#are ghosts a part of the necromancy thing?

[abigail-pent]

some things I'm noticing (again) in my ??th gtn reread:

- Cytherea has a whole little monologue about how if you're going to create or pull thanergy it has to be by taking thalergy and vice versa. You can only join death to life or life to death, kind of like batteries

- Basically I'm more convinced than ever that the entrance to the Tower is under the Canaan House facility -- Teacher says it's the most dangerous place in the whole Nine Houses, and we know by now that Alecto was not there, so I am pretty sure it's the Tower

- ten billion unfed ghosts in the Tower, under Canaan House, which were there since the Resurrection; sounds like the tongue guys tbh.

- there's a whole bit about how Silas sends Colum's soul *away* and exploits the space it leaves behind, which is meant to be the opposite of what the Second House does. the Second House takes enemy thanergy to create more thalergy for the cavalier. so I think that means the Eighth takes in thalergy - like from the whole room, I think this is why the color starts draining from everyone whenever Silas does it to Colum - to create more thanergy for ... maybe both the necromancer and the cavalier?

- Anyway I just kind of think John's bomb + eating Earth basically ripped open a wormhole to tongue guy space (the stoma) and he pushed the ten billion through. giving up a shit ton of thalergy to create the first source of thanergy. like Silas does to Colum but bigger. and this created the tongue guys and the tower was built to contain them.

- this is maybe also why John has said siphoning is the most dangerous thing any House had ever thought up - he does like to say this kind of thing from personal experience

- there are sure a lot of towers referenced in Canaan House and then we don't really get towers again until Nona, with the Tower Princes and, obvi, the Tower.

- I am very fine and normal about Silas and Colum and have never cried about them, what are you even talking about

- the Tower is a tarot card that "is associated with sudden, disruptive revelation, and potentially destructive change." Sounds like John's flashbacks in Nona to me tbh

- the Eighth breeding program is still interesting and a mystery to me, mainly because I'm not very clear on what blood type matches have to do with necromancy. But it does feel like the most medical aspect of the modern Eighth and therefore probably the part that Mercy had the most influence over.

- but actually I think "the Eighth breeds batteries" makes more sense to me than ever if the point of sending Colum's soul away is to take his thalergy to bring Silas more thanergy. Which is siphoning, exactly - it's the avulsion trial. And I suppose that would be easier to do if the necromancer and cavalier were a closer genetic match. But then I guess I don't understand why everyone else in the room loses color when that happens. Is that because of where Silas is sending Colum in those moments?

- also then it makes me wonder if Cam and Pal really could have done the avulsion trial without giving Cam brain damage. They are a super close genetic match. Harrow and Gideon are *not*, of course, but I think they pulled through because Gideon has extra thalergy from her dad's side.

- you know who would be a PERFECT genetic match? the Tridentarii! really wondering if this will come up in Alecto... Corona actually would be perfect for Ianthe to siphon because there is no genetic difference between them.

- is it going to be important at some point that the Chaturs have been cavaliers since the time of the Resurrection? is Jeannemary a descendant of Titania?

- when Teacher laments the "poor child" he could be talking about... almost anyone. Dulcinea, Cytherea, Isaac, Jeannemary. Anastasia. Like really anyone

- in retrospect it's extremely weird that Aiglamene tells Gideon she's up to the standards of "a bad cavalier, one who's terrible" and then when Gideon gets to Canaan House and starts dueling people, she's like one of the best? Crazy fast, hero-worshipped by Jeannemary, and even Babs said it was "incredible" to fight her. Like that's strange that Aiglamene's expectations were apparently much higher than any House cavalier primary.

- there's something so fascinating about the scene where Babs stops Corona from fighting Gideon. like it becomes really clear to me that he is in on Ianthe's ruse, and that Corona has been fighting to get out of it for a long time - maybe her whole life - and can't. They're both terrified of Ianthe and Babs is constantly trying to protect Corona *from Ianthe*. But Corona is so tied up in the toxicity of the relationship, and the love of it, that she can't accept Babs' help even when consists only of taking her side in an argument between the twins, as in the first scene when they're overheard on the stairs. She can't even accept Babs' help when it consists of dying instead of her. Ugh the whole thing is so domestic-abuse coded...

- "she had bitten him, apparently to soothe her own obscure feelings" I say this to/about my cats often

idk probably more later

[bug-game-blogging]

Just came up with an AU idea. Someone’s probably already done it before but I want to write this down.

Dream No More ending AU where the Radiance’s power disperses after her death, and since Ghost and Hollow are the closest ones to her when she’s killed, that same power flows through their shades, intertwining with the void and becoming a part of them. Most of the void and Vessels return to their slumber, but Ghost and Hollow live on — albeit with a mask split in two (Ghost) and a cracked mask, missing arm, and a gaping hole in their chest (Hollow).

With new divinity comes new powers, and soon the two are struggling to control them. They flee to the Ancient Basin, determined to figure out how to master these new abilities. But they can’t do it alone; not without help… and then Ghost has an idea.

Cue a field trip to the White Palace and unconventional necromancy to raise their father from the dead and interrogate him on how to control light powers. He’s very confused about the whole thing.

[waterdeepweave]

his velvet nightshirt (18+) - gale x reader

Turns out Gale just doesn't really like to get naked. He's very here for sex. Just... not naked. (prompt)

Tags: gale x gender neutral tav (no explicit genital description), second person pov, clothed sex, dry humping, hand jobs (male receiving), communicative sex, constant checking ins, fluff and smut

read here on ao3, or under the cut:

As much as the two of you vowed to find more time alone, the adventuring road left little room for more things than short, quiet moments. Even the nights crept up on the two of you in equal measure, desire washed away by the heaviness of sleep, spent in each other’s arms. 

It wasn’t until the road led to Balder’s Gate that you found yourself in the presence of a reprieve – and, mercifully, a private room at the Elfsong Tavern. 

You spend the first part of the night in polite company with each other, an unspoken agreement to let the anticipation build. Or perhaps to warm yourselves up, acclimate to the mood of indulgence – something neither of you had entertained since long before the nautiloid. Gale sits on a padded sofa by the fireplace, nose-deep in a book, and you curl up beside him, feet on his lap, reading from the same book once in a while. But for the most part, you admire him – his features lit in the glow of the fire, a flickering orange fleck in the endlessness of his brown eyes, deep pools of warm chocolate. The way his fingers glide over the page before he turns it – a flick so gentle you can almost feel it on your own skin. 

His chuckle rumbles against your face, and you sit a little straighter, reading from over his shoulder. You frown, confused as to what could possibly be so amusing about the ethics of necromancy. The words swim before you, melting into the glow of the fire, and you find another warmth growing in the core of your belly. You crane your head and press a kiss into the crook of Gale’s neck. 

“Hmm? Mmm.” Gale lets out something between a query and a sigh of contentment, his right arm leaving the book to wrap around your waist, nudging you closer to him. His left hand – and his attention – remain on the book.

Not for long, though. Not if you had your way. 

You nuzzle his neck, your face rubbing between the soft velvet of his tunic and the warmth of his skin. Your cheek grazes against his beard and you nudge deeper, alternating between kisses and nuzzles. Your hand travels across the expanse of his shirt, plush fabric beneath your touch, his heartbeat pulsing strong underneath. Your hand rests on a pec and you give it a gentle squeeze. 

That catches his attention – his heartbeat quickens underneath you, and shadows flutter in the periphery of your vision as he sets down the book, clearing his throat.

“Well. What do we have here?” His voice is sticky with growing lust as he shuffles you so that you are straddling his lap, kneeling on the seat. “There we go. Hello, my love.” Gale leans forward to greet you with a kiss, but you keep your face aloof, ever so slightly out of reach. You feel his grip on your waist tighten with frustration, and you grin, diving into his neck to lavish it with more kisses. You run your tongue along his jawline, fascinated by the texture of his beard. A soft moan escapes his lips, even as he turns his head instinctively, inviting you to taste him, to mark him all over. His hands begin to slide up and down your back, nails ghosting down your skin through the fabric, and your thighs bear down on his as you arch your back against his touch. 

“Mm - ah, fuck,” Gale manages as you grab a fistful of his hair, greasy with the lack of wash and whatever product he slicks into it to keep it back. It feels luscious in your hands, as does the rest of him when you tug gently, sending him rising into you. “Please,” he groans, a hand rising to catch your cheek, bringing your face to his. His eyes were dark, oozing pools of desire, pleading, adoring, all at once. “Kiss me.” 

He would make fun of you, after the fact, for how easily you folded at once, melted into his touch, letting him pull your lips to his, letting him capture you, taste you, have you. With a grunt, and a hand on each side of your ass, he pulls you toward him as your lips stay interlocked. You gasp a little in his mouth as you feel his growing bulge pressed right against you, so close to where you want it, and your hip jerks, desperate for the friction, desperate for his warmth. He chuckles at your wanton display and presses his hips upward into you, even as he holds you down with either hand.

It’s growing too much for you to bear.

Your hand slips under his shirt and you gather the hem in a fist, preparing to hoist the whole thing over him. Gale stops in his tracks, and a hand flies to catch yours. Your gaze flickers to his, and you unclasp his shirt. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how to say this,” he begins. From the way he trips over his words, you can tell he is nervous. You slip off his lap and sit next to him, a tentative hand resting on his thigh. He reaches for it immediately, interlacing it in his own.

“You do recall the last time we shared a night. It was… well, it transcended the body. So to speak.” You nod, remembering the feeling of sailing across stars, of being caught in his arms, and then another pair of arms, and then another. Weightless. Glowing, but not warm. A breath of cold air, so refreshing, but almost… clean. 

“Such was the way I’d laid with another for many years in my life. Mystra, as you know. Then you. I realise now I had led you to it without asking for your preference, and for that I apologise. I was… eager to perform, and the familiarity gave me my best chance.

“My point is, it’s been quite a while since I’ve slept with someone on the… well, mortal plane, shall we say. Body to body. And that’s not saying I don’t want to – you, my love, are exquisite. However –” He clears his throat, somewhat in shame. “For the first time in a long time, of sorts, I’m suddenly finding myself rather… well, shy.” 

“Gale, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You know I am equally satisfied to simply share space with you,” you say quickly, searching his gaze. 

“Oh, no, it’s not quite that. I do want to have sex. Rather badly, if… well, if this is to be believed.” He gestures to his erection straining against his trousers, moisture weeping through the outline of his head. Your lips part at the sight, your breath catching in your throat, and it takes all of your concentration to focus on him, and what he has to say. 

“What I’m saying is… for tonight, at least, I would prefer to leave my clothes on. If that’s alright with you. And before you take it personally, I would have you know I make Tara leave the room before I undress, back in Waterdeep.” 

“Of course.” You reach up to kiss him on the cheek as you squeeze his hand. 

“And for whatever it’s worth, you are more than welcome to take your clothes off. I think I would rather enjoy the sight, actually.” 

“Is that so?” You flutter your eyelids at him, a look you know he cannot resist. “I may need some help with that.” 

“Come here,” he growls, a dark glint of mischief in his eye as he pulls you onto his lap once more. His fingers tangle eagerly into your shirt and he slides it off hungrily, your undergarments joining it on the floor with due haste. His thumb flicks over your nipple, hard and sensitive, and as you arch into his touch you find his thumb quickly replaced with his tongue. You moan, your hands curling around his face as his hand moves to pinch your other nipple. The sensation shoots from your chest across your body like sparks of lightning, and your hands glide down his neck. 

But then you find yourself faltering, pausing at his collarbones, half-obscured by his shirt. Gale notices you hesitate and resurfaces, his eyes meeting yours. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I’m… I’m not sure how to proceed,” you admit, a finger tracing the embroidery along the collar of his tunic. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“I see.” Gale takes your hand. 

“First of all, thank you. For this. For being so endlessly patient. I cannot overstate how much that means to me.” He presses a long kiss into your hand. “Shall I?” You nod.

“Guide me, Gale.” 

With a soft moan, he guides your hand to his waist and slides it under his shirt, leading your palm up his torso, over the soft fold of his belly, and onto his chest. His shirt rides up as he does, exposing his skin to the air, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He drags your hand across his chest, gasping softly as your skin grazes against his pert nipples, and back again, the friction so delicious. 

Understanding, you match his rhythm on your own, your fingers awakening to massage his pec, your thumb ghosting over his sensitive nipple. He rises against you, so responsive to your touch. Sandwiched between his tunic and his warm body, you press your forehead against his, letting your other hand slide under his shirt, toying with both his nipples at once. He groans at the sensation, throwing his head back.

“Fuck, I may come from this alone,” he rasps, his hand moving to cup the back of your neck. “You drive me insane, love.” 

You dip your head with a smirk, deciding to nibble his chest through the fabric of his shirt. As your velvet-lined lips graze a particularly sensitive area he groans again, his hips thrusting up into you, his desire meeting yours. His heartbeat pulses through the fabric, and down where you are wet and wanting, swollen and sensitive, you feel it all the more. 

“Fuck.” You grind down against him, holding onto his chest, the canvas of your trousers offering some form of friction – new to you, but somehow equally enjoyable, if not more. You rock your hips harder, chasing the feeling. “Fuck, Gale.” 

“Fuck, say that again.” Gale slips a hand between your legs and begins to palm his bulge through his trousers. His body – and yours on his – sink even deeper into the sofa. “Say my name. Show me how much you want me.” 

“Gale.” You gasp as you rock against his hand, feeling yourself grow closer with every motion.

“Gods above. Come here.” Gale grasps your hand and shakily brings you into his breeches, past his undergarments. “Please,” he whispers, and it is all you need to hear. Your fingers curl around his shaft, and as soon as it does he moans, his grip on you tightening. You stroke down his length and back up, your thumb swirling around his throbbing head, smearing precum all over. His hand reaches for your chest again, and you welcome his touch with a sigh. 

“Gods, you are magnificent,” he groans as you continue to stroke his cock, slowing your pace and squeezing just a little tighter every time you reach the tip, and releasing it with a languid motion down his shaft once more. “And incredibly frustrating,” he adds with a half-mustered frown, even as the rest of him quivers at your touch. 

You move your hand faster, and with a groan he thrusts up into your grip, shifting his trousers lower. He repeats the motion again, and again, until he finally nudges his cock free of his breeches, leaving it at the mercy of your touch alone. Encouraged, you quicken your pace, panting into the crook of his neck as your hand worked, feeling his chest rise and fall in quick succession as he thrust unevenly under you, too lost in ecstasy to keep time or tempo. 

“I’m close,” he gasps, catching your hand over his cock. “Fuck, come here, grind against me.” He guides you over his bare cock, and you drag yourself against him, experimentally at first. 

“Gods, your breeches… they feel wonderful. And damp.” He rubs two fingers down between your legs, and you flush at the knowing gaze he gives you, smug and heavy with lust. “Is that how I make you feel, my love?” 

“Yes,” you breathe, rocking into his beckoning fingers. Gale removes his hand, relishing your whine, and replaces you over his cock. “Show me,” he growls into your neck as you wrap your arms around his’. 

With a strangled moan, you bear down upon him, thrusting with abandon, chasing the friction of fabric sandwiched between throbbing, sensitive flesh. He groans at the sensation, drawing you closer, his hips twitching wildly underneath yours. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck, I’m going to -”

Your own pleasure builds as you move even faster, clenching fistfuls of his shirt for leverage, your forehead pressed against his. 

“Do it,” you gasp, a finger tracing down his jawline. 

“Come for me, Gale.” 

With a cry and a final thrust, he spills all over his shirt, crying your name as he does. Pearlescent streaks litter his purple shirt as he rides out the waves of his pleasure, his hips jerking wildly. 

His desperate rocking against you is too much to bear, and you find yourself unravelling not long after, his name spilling from your lips as you come, wrapped firmly in his embrace, muffling your moans in his chest as you sink into him, gasping for breath, utterly spent.

“Oh, gods. Gods.” He chuckles softly, one hand holding onto you, the other tugging at his shirt, examining the sticky streaks on top of it. “I suppose I’ll have to give it a wash.” You laugh softly, nuzzling deeper into his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat. He nudges you off gently. 

“One moment, love. Don’t want to get your face all sticky.” He pulls the shirt over his chest and lets it flutter to the floor before dragging you back on top of him. “There we go. Much better.” You hum in agreement – his chest made for an excellent pillow, and you weren’t one to complain for the warmth of his bare skin. Your hand curls into a fist in the centre of his orb tattoo, and he places a hand over yours. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, love?” His free hand strokes your hair, and you nod, sleepy and sated, growing more so by the minute. 

“I wanted to thank you again,” he murmurs. “For your understanding. And your patience. I felt utterly safe with you. Something I haven’t felt in a long time.”

“Funny you should say that,” you mumble against his skin. “I feel utterly safe, wrapped up in your arms right now.” 

“An equal exchange, then.” 

Gale wraps both arms around you, holding you closer to him. You have a feeling he would never let go. 

He doesn’t, until the dawn comes.

[the-mortuary-witch]

SATANISM INFO

WHAT IS THEISTIC SATANISM?

Theistic Satanism, otherwise known as traditional Satanism, is a religion where we worship one or more supernatural beings. Our major deity, Lord Satan, is often viewed as a father/brotherly figure. Although, some theistic Satanists actually believe in a version of the Egyptian God “set”.

Regardless of which one you believe in, none of them resemble the Christian Satan (we do not worship the biblical Satan). They both share the qualities of the symbolic Satan, which are sexuality, pleasure, strength, and rebellion against Western mores. Satan as an entity can be found all throughout Paganism as several different Gods.

The same role, the same realm, etc. He also traces back all the way to the Egyptians. The term “Satan” originated in Judaism as a title for those who were opposers and accusers, many people held that role, not just one. The role can also be seen throughout different Pagan Gods as well. Many demons hold the role of a Satan, there is not just one. They are not all abrahamic and certainly are not evil.

Theistic Satanists follow a more Pagan lifestyle, as it is considered a Pagan religion. Therefore, the Satan we follow also has Pagan aspects. Not biblical whatsoever. Worshipping the biblical Satan and believing he is not evil is actually Diabolism, not Theistic Satanism.

Theistic Satanists never have and never will worship the biblical Satan.

Don’t listen to anyone who says we do and that there is “only one” Satan. They’re very uneducated.

WHAT IS ATHEISTIC SATANISM?

Atheistic Satanism, otherwise known as LaVeyan Satanism, is an atheistic branch of Satanism made in 1966, where you do not believe in a supernatural being, rather they view Satan as a symbol. There is no God nor Satan, the only “God” is the Satanist themself.

Atheistic Satanism is a religion that questions authority, stands up for the truth and fights for justice.

Atheistic Satanism also takes part in magic and rituals of self-empowerment and therapy (not everyone does, but many do). As defined by LaVey, Satanism is celebration of the self. It encourages people to seek their own truths, indulge in desire without fear of sociable taboos and perfect the self.

UNDERWORLD GODS:

• Cerberus: Hound of Hades, guarded the gates of the Underworld and prevented the escape of the shapes of the dead.

• Charon: ferryman of the dead.

• Cronus: King of the Titanes, and the hod of time.

• Erinyes: three goddesses of vengeance and retribution.

• Hades: King of the Underworld and god of the dead.

• Hecate: hoddess of magic, witchcraft, the night, moon, ghosts, and necromancy.

• Hermes: the guide of the dead who led souls down to the Underworld.

• Hypnos: god (or Daimon) of sleep.

• Moirai: three goddesses of fate.

• Nyx: the goddess of the night.

• Persephone: Queen of the Underworld and goddess and spring growth.

• Thanatos: god (or Daimon) of non-violent death.

FAQ:

HOW CAN I ASK A DEITY RESPECTFULLY THAT I WOULD LIKE TO WORK WITH THEM?

To ask a deity respectfully that you would like to work with them, you could say something like this:

"Dear (deity's name),

I have heard great things about you and feel a connection to your energy.

I am seeking guidance and knowledge, and I was wondering if you would be willing to work with me?

If you are interested, please let me know what I need to do to establish a connection with you.

Thank you for considering my request,

(Your name)."

After you have written the note, you can either keep it as a record of the prayer or dispose of it in a way that demonstrates respect and gratitude. If you decide to keep it, you can place it in a special box or file to keep as a reminder of your connection with the deity. For disposal, you could burn the note as an offering to the deity, to represent sending the message with your intention and energy. Or, you could bury the note in the ground, as a way of returning it to the earth and giving thanks for the energy and guidance you received.

IS THERE A TIME LIMIT TO LEAVING OFFERINGS OUT FOR DEITITES?

There is no specific time limit for leaving offerings out for deities. You can leave offerings for as long as you feel that they are needed or wanted, and then take them away when you feel the connection has been made or when you feel it has run its course. It's important to be respectful of the deities and to approach offerings with the intention of connecting with them rather than simply "paying tribute." As long as you're mindful and respectful of the deities and their energies, you can leave offerings for as long or as short a time as you wish.

DO I NEED TO ASK EACH DEITY IF THEY WOULD LIKE TO WORK WITH ME BEFORE PRAYING TO THEM?

It's not necessary to ask each deity if they want to work with you before praying to them. However, it can be a good idea to do so out of respect and as a way of establishing a connection with them. Each deity has their own personality and energy, and different deities may be more or less willing to work with you based on your compatibility and their own interests. By asking first, you're showing consideration and respect for the deity you're wanting to work with, and they may be more likely to respond positively to your request.

CAN I USE ONE ALTAR FOR PRAYING TO MORE THAN ONE DEITY?

Yes, you can absolutely use one altar for praying to more than one deity. Each deity has their own energy, but using one altar is a convenient way to streamline the process. By having one altar, you can create a space for all your deity work, saving time and effort on setup and cleanup. Additionally, you might find that the synergy of multiple deities on one altar provides an even greater connection between you and the deities you're working with.

CAN I PRAY TO MORE THAN ONE DEITY IN A DAY?

You can absolutely pray to more than one deity in a day. Each deity has their own energies, so it can be beneficial to invoke different deities at different times for different purposes. For example, you might pray to Lucifer in the morning to gain strength and confidence, and then pray to Lilith in the evening to gain insight and inspiration. There's no right or wrong way to work with different deities, so feel free to experiment and find what works best for you.

DO I ALWAYS NEED TO GIVE OFFERINGS TO DEITIES I WORK WITH?

No, you do not always need to give offerings to the deities you work with. It's a matter of personal preference and the individual relationship you have with the deity. Some people give offerings to establish a connection and build a relationship of respect and reciprocation. Others may have a different arrangement with deities that may not involve offerings, such as exchanging energy or favors. Ultimately, it is up to you and the deity to determine what arrangement works best for both of you.

DO I HAVE TO USE A HAND SIGN WHEN PRAYING?

Some people feel that using a hand sign or gesture when praying to a deity can help you to better connect with their energy and express your intentions. However, it's not a requirement. The important thing is to make sure that you are being sincere and genuine in your prayers. The deity you are speaking to won't require any specific gestures from you, so focus on communicating your true feelings and desires.

CAN I USE THE SAME OFFERING BOWL FOR OFFERING STUFF TO MANY DIFFERENT DEITIES?

Yes, you can absolutely use the same offering bowl to make offerings to multiple deities. This is quite common and can be a respectful way of showing gratitude to multiple deities or expressing your devotion to a variety of energies and forces.


When making offerings to multiple deities, it's important to keep in mind the differences in their energies and preferences. You should make sure to choose items that are appropriate and relatable to each of the deities you are offering to. You can experiment and see what combination of offerings seems to suit the different energies you are working with best.

WHAT DO I DO AFTER OFFERING A PHYSICAL OBJECT TO A DEITY THAT I CAN’T BURN, EAT, OR DRINK?

After offering a physical object to a deity that you can't burn, eat, or drink, you can keep the offering as a sign of devotion and appreciation. You could display the object on an altar or shrine dedicated to the deity, or place it in a special spot in your home as a reminder of your connection with them. The important thing is to show respect and gratitude for the deity's presence and influence in your life.

It's up to you whether or not you would like to cleanse the object after offering it. Some people believe that offering items to deities can create a spiritual connection or attachment between the deity and the object, and that a cleansing can help to reset the energy and clear out any negative energies that may be lingering. If you feel drawn to cleansing the object, it can be a good way to ensure that it is a pure and clean vessel for the energy of your deity.

WHAT CAN I USE TO CARVE A DEITY’S SIGIL OR RUNES INTO THEIR CANDLES?

• A sharp, pointy object such as a knife or pin.

• Sewing needle.

• Wood-burning pen or tool.

• A marker or felt tip pen.

• The edge of a metal object (e.g. a pen or paperclip).

• Paintbrush: to apply acrylic or oil paint for more elaborate designs.

• Small tool: You can also use a small chisel or carving tool to carve the shape of the sigil or rune into the candle.

WHAT CAN I USE TO CLEANSE AN OBJECT?

• Moonlight: exposure to moonlight can be a powerful way to cleanse an object of negative energy.

• Natural cleaning agents: you can use natural cleaning agents such as salt water or herbal infusions to cleanse an object.

• Smoke: burning incense or white sage is a common way to clear negative energies and cleanse objects.

• Sound: you could also use sound such as bells, chimes, or chanting to help remove any unwanted attachments to the object.

• Energy clearing: some people utilize reiki or other forms of energy clearing to remove negative energies from an object.

• Burning herbs or sage (or other cleansing materials): is a common and straightforward way to cleanse and purify an object.

• Sound cleansing: playing certain tones, mantras, or frequencies to cleanse is a simple and effective method.

• Water cleansing: spraying water or soaking an object in purified water is a simple and effective way to cleanse and purify it.

• Crystals: using crystal energy and/or placing crystals on or around an object is a unique and effective way to cleanse and purify it.

HOW CAN I TELL IF SOMETHING IS A SIGN FROM A DEITY OR IF IT’S JUST A COINCIDENCE?

• A physical sensation or feeling: when you pray or meditate and experience a physical sensation or feeling that feels distinct or out of the ordinary, it could be a sign from a deity, especially if the feeling is unexpected or unaccounted for.

• An unexpected event or occurrence: sometimes, something unexpected or out of the ordinary can be a sign from a deity.

• Change in energy or vibe: if you notice a noticeable shift in the atmosphere or energy of the space, it could be a sign from a deity, as energies can be very strongly felt and can often be very distinctive.

• Sudden synchronicity or coincidence: when you notice something that feels too uncanny or too specific to be just a coincidence, it could be sign from a deity, as they often communicate through synchronicities and meaningful coincidences.

• Unexpected thought or feeling: when you experience an unexpected thought or feeling that feels out of place or unusually strong, it could be a sign from a deity.

HOW TO RESPECTFULLY DISPOSE OF A BURNED OUT CANDLE THAT WAS USED FOR A DEITY?

When you have burned out a candle that you used for a deity, you can dispose of it in multiple ways, depending on your personal beliefs and practices. You can either bury it in the ground, recycle it and dispose of it as a normal candle, or discard it in a ritualized manner. It's important to take into account the candle's symbolism and your relationship with the deity you used it for. This will help you decide on what disposal method is right for you and your practice. Ultimately, it is up to you to decide how to dispose of the candle properly and honor the deity.

CAN I LIGHT ALL MY DEITIES CANDLES AT ONCE?

Yes, you can light all of your deities candles at once. It is appropriate to honour each deity in their own way, and lighting candles is a common way to dedicate offerings and prayers to your deities. You can either light each candle individually, with a specific prayer or dedication to each deity, or you can light all of the candles together with a single prayer or dedication for all of the deities collectively. The choice is up to you and how the candles resonate with you and the deities that you seek to connect with.

[aschriles]

tim's ghost problem

I’m not sure if this has been done yet, but everyone knows that part in canon when Tim was so distraught about Kon’s death, he tried to clone him a hundred times, right? Anyway, consider an AU where Tim was so intent on cloning Kon again, he actually resorted to magic to do it.

So, picture Tim, having learned the basics of necromancy, aka the magic of raising your best friend back from the dead, from illegal spell books he procured from the internet. (The internet never has shortages of books for necromancy, for some reason.)

He’s in one of the many, many abandoned rooms of Drake Manor, because he’d rather Drake Manor get the short end of the stick in case things would go from bad to worse. There’s a magic circle he’s sketched out on the hardwood floor, not as clean as the ones the magic-users from the Justice League Dark sketch out, but it’ll have to do. He starts to chant, the Latin words flowing freely from his lips, while his mind inwardly begs for the ritual to work. (It has to.)

The circle glows a bright green. It reminds him of the green of the Lazarus Pit, but he forces himself not to dwell on it. Instead, he says the words louder, repeats ‘white’ and ‘death’ and ‘ghost’ over and over until the flash of light makes him screw his eyes shut.

When he opens his eyes again, he feels his heart skip a beat at the sight of the dark-haired guy encased inside the magic circle. Then the guy raises his head, and Tim’s heart promptly sinks.

Because the guy’s eyes might blue, but they’re the wrong kind of blue, and he doesn’t look anything like Kon either, and Tim is very, very screwed for summoning the wrong guy instead of his dead best friend.

[angelr-fish]

NPMD characters if they were in percy jackson cabins?

I do this thing where I always end up crossing over my hyperfixations so I NEEDED to do this.

Peter Spankoffski - Child of Athena

Peter is quite obviously a nerd, and while he doesn't come up with many strategies, he does have a some qualities in common with other children of Athena. (he is also the only one to notice that the building was not structurally sound)

Ruth Fleming - Child of Dionysus

Ruth loves theater, so much so that she'll do anything to be around it even though she cant be on stage. he is also the god of fertility which kinda fits yeah

Richard Lipschitz - Child of Hecate

now this one is kind of a stretch, I had a very hard time placing Richie somewhere. I landed on this one because Hecate is the goddess of "magic, witchcraft, the moon, graves, ghosts, necromancy, and sorcery." now while that is a mouthful most of those is what led me to this in the first place. magic and sorcery? that is some anime shit and Richie loves anime shit. now graves, ghosts, and necromancy that one was more of a stretch for me, I mostly chose it because he dies first. yes very big leap. in this little universe I've created for myself there could be a tie to this as to why Richie is the one who interacts with max first idk I'm rambling here.

Stephanie Lauter - Child of Jupiter

we are bringing in the roman gods now. Steph is a child of Jupiter because there is no way she isn't a child of the Big 3. I chose Jupiter specifically because she is often seen leading the group and if i were to chose a character she was similar to it would probably be Thalia. as for the roman thing well its just another way for max to forbid Pete from liking her cause of the camp rivalry. This is quite ironic in the same way it is in the show because....

Grace Chasity - Child of Janus (Huntress of Artemis)

yep grace is also a roman kid, kind of like how she's the exception of being a nerd in the show. I chose Janus specifically because he's the god of "beginnings, gates, transitions, duality, doorways, passages, and endings." Grace is the catalyst to the entire show, she unintentionally causes a lot of the issues that happen so I thought that slightly fit the doorways and passages part cause she kind of leads them through this maze. Grace has A LOT of duality to her. she is a nerdy prude through and through and yet, she does so many things like touching herself and lying to the police! next, she causes the ending of Max Jagerman's life as well as the end of his afterlife so that part fits. as for gates, she just talks about the gates of hell so much and I thought it was kind of funny. being a huntress is kind of self-explanatory though. I mean being abstinent and immortal? sign this girl up!

Max Jagerman - Child of Ares

I really don't even think I need to explain this one. 1. Competitive, its in a Ares kids blood to be competitive, lets be so real right now. 2. Daddy Issues, Every Ares kid has them, I mean why wouldn't they? they are all constantly competing with there siblings for just an ounce of his attention or approval and it just fits in my eyes 3. Bloodlust? have you seen this guy? he killed like 4 people! 4. Fuck Clivesdale

okay that's all I have of the main characters, but I might work on some of the others. or maybe even just Hatchetfield characters in general

[ancha-aus]

Ghost & Medium AU Drabble - The Necromancing Medium

Remember how I said I had an idea? That was angst and heartbreaking? This is the idea :D Again, still not sure if they will become a whole series thing.

The drabble is both a thank you for everyone being nice and drawing stuff and writing stuff! And also because I had an idea and as all of you know. I don't have self control :D

This one again includes a lot of my own headcanons for this idea/AU and even Dust. The most obvious one that I should probably mention? That Ash is the older brother and Dust is the younger brother.

Anyway. How Dust got so into necromancy and medium stuff and the tragedy that was his and his older brother's life.

WARNINGS: Child death. Survivor's guilt. implied child abuse. Child Neglect. Mention and implied child harrassment and molestation. attempt at child grooming (the bad BAD kind). technically attempted suicide. nothing is graphic or overexplained but it is implied and slightly mentioned.

I am serious. This one is angst and trauma filled and I am trying to not make it too triggering for anyone but please be careful, mind the warnings and if you aren't 18+ don't read.

*------------------*

Dust rubs his hands down his pants and checks the circle he made.

This has to work.

It just has too.

If this doens't work then... then...

Dust quickly grabs the book near him and squints his sockets at the writen words. It is old and written in another language but Dust has figured out most of it.

He is very lucky the library is open for eveyrone or else he would not have had a place to reasearch... or sleep... or wash up...

It doesn't matter. This ritual should fix everything.

Ash appears near him and glares at the drawn circle "Oh for crying out loud. Not another one of these."

Dust hugs the book closely "This one will be different..." It has to be.

Ash sighs as he floats near Dust "look... I appreciate it.. but i don't want to feel like i am being thorn apart again okay? It is about to rain soon anyway...." he looks up.

Dust nods "It has to rain..."

After all... it had rained the day Ash was murdered. It is part of the ritual to help the soul return.

Ash sighs and shakes his floating skull. He is clearly disappointed.

Dust frowns and tries to focus on the circle he is making. It has to be perfect. How else will he get Ash back?

He still remembers it so clearly.

Dust waits in his room for Ash to return from his after school activities. He is the star gymnastic at school and has a scholarship lined up for him for when he goes to college and to continue training.

Dust knows that it is just a matter of time before Ash is requested for the olympics. Ash is just that amazing! Even at fifteen Ash is many times better than most!

Dust himself doesn't have any after school activities. He normally just watches Ash and walks home with Ash afterwards. Dust gets why of course. He has no talents whatsoever. His parents have told him that many times.

At least Ash likes having him around and giving him ideas for tricks!

Dust looks at the clock and frowns. It is well past dinner time... their parents having gone out for food themselves.

He... he had hoped that when Ash got back Ash and him could make something together. ash had been teaching him how to cook. Said that it was an important skill for him to learn even if he was only ten.

More time passes. No one comes home.

It is half past eleven when the front door opens and Dust peaks out only to quickly disappear into his room again. His parents are home. Why isn't Ash home yet? Did he have another meetup? extra training? Did he go out wiht friends?

He goes to sleep uneasy and hungry.

His guts twist together and his dreams quickly form. Visions of lives never his own. of the restless spirits who try to speak to him and pull him along. Take his body and his energy.

Ash is the only one who believes him. When Dust told him that Dust hadn't thrown over the glass vase but a ghost had done it. When something went missing Dust swore he hadn't touched it. No one ever believed him. Except Ash.

The Dreams change and suddenly Ash stands before him. Looking angry.

Dust doesn't get it... Why is Ash angry? Ash is never angry with him.

Dust reaches for him "Ash?"

Ash pulls away from him. He looks furious "find me."

Dust blinks but takes a step away from his brother "what?"

Ash groans and waves out his arms "Find me! Use your stupid powers and find me!"

Dust doesn't understand. Why would he need to find him? "But.. you were at practise?"

Ash groans "Fuck you are just so stupid sometimes!"

That hurts and Dsut hugs himself "I... I will search?"

Ash goes to say something else but then he is gone.

Then Dust wakes up. it is still early but he grabs his few school things and escapes the house before his parents wake up. He rushes to school and looks around. Searching.

He isn't sure what he is searching for. But if Ash tells him he needs to find him he can. He will figure out why Ash would appear in his dreams like other spirits but that is for later. He needs to find his brother. Maybe he got locked in somewhere? Or maybe he got hurt and can't move?!

Dust rushes towards the gym

He quickly gets inside but every light is still off. Everything is cleaned up and empty. Then again it is only 6 and the morning workouts don't start until half past 6.

Still. Dust rushes towards the locker rooms and searching both sides. Finding nothing there he searches the toilets next before returning to the empty gym.

"Dust! what are you doing here?"

Dust jumps and turns quickly. It is the coach. Dust can never remember his name and honestly he never wants to. Dust... doesnt like being near the other. Something about him is off. Maybe it is because the spirits seem to glare at the coach whenever they pass. Maybe it is because Dust thinks the man stares too long when his brother practised.

Dust told Ash once. How he doesn't like Coach and how the spirits dislike him too. Ash had just smiled and said that Coach was actually always very nice and took them all serious and treated them as adults.

Dust shrugs at the teacher as the other waits for a reply. He mutters a weak excuse "wanted to see brother practise..." he rubs his arm.

Every spirit is screaming at him. He doesn't understand what they say. he thinks spirits need to be strong for him to be able to hear or see them but he can feel them still. The spirits are tugging at him. To go. to leave. to go with them? Dust doesn't know what they want.

Coach nods "I see! I am sorry to disappoint. I haven't seen your brother yet. Not since yesterday morning practise!"

Dust frowns "Ash doesn't skip." Ash never skips. He has more determination than anyone.

Coach nods "I agree. I was going to see if Ash joins us for practise today. If he didn't i was planning on calling your parents. Do you wish to wait with me?"

Dust shakes his skull "No that is okay... I am going to keep searching..." and he rushes out of the door before Coach can answer.

Dust can't believe he was that stupid. two years and he still feels like kicking himself in the skull for not seeing it sooner. To not realise it sooner. Maybe if he had noticed the obvious clues...

Ash wouldn't... He wouldn't have...

It doesn't matter.

Dust lays down another line and checks the ritual in the book. That all looks right and the same. He nods and reaches for his necklace.

Ash looks alarmed "Hey! What are you doing? Stop that my dust is in there!"

Dust freezes and mutters "I don't need all of it... just a tiny bit for the ritual..."

Ash looks deeply unhappy as he mutters "But it makes sure i am anchored to you still... at least until you can do the whole haunting bond thing."

Dust shrugs "if this works you won't need to anchor to your dust or me anymore." this will fix eveyrthing. He will make it right.

Ash looks unsure but floats near him as he gets things ready.

The news of Ash's disappearance shook the school. Dust swore he searched everywhere! He tried to get answers from Ash in his dreams but all the dream Ash told him was to 'search' and to 'actually think for once.'.

His parents were inconsolable. Neither were the teaches adn other students. Ash was loved. Ash was wanted. Ash had a bright future ahead of him.

Dust... Dust was lucky that Ash liked him...

Though... dream Ash didn't like him at all it seemed... dream Ash was just angry at him.

Dust knew what they whispered of course. It wasn't as if anyone tried to hide it. People spoke about how it was a shame that Ash had disappeared. How it was a shame it hadn't been Dust instead.

Dust tried not to let it bother him. He was always the weird kid. He had always been the weird kid. He spoke to people not there. strange things happened around him. Dust seemed to lie about thingsthat he obviously did because no one else was near to could ahve caused it.

He hadn't cared much before even if it hurt to not be believed becuase at least Ash had believed him.

His parents hadn't been for whispers however. They just looked at him and sneered that it should ahve been him who disappeared. not their dear golden boy who had such a bright future and would have made them proud. instead they were stuck with him, the disappointing freak.

Dust hadnt gone home since Ash didn't return home.

others whispered that Ash ran away.

But Dust knew that wasn't the case! It couldn't be! Ash... Ash wouldn't just leave! Not without him!

When their parents argued and on nights after they yelled at him. Ash would hold him close. promise that once he was old enough the two of them would just disappear. that Dust just had to be patient. Once Ash went to college he would take Dust wiht him and they would never have to see their parents ever again.

Ash... ash wouldn't break that promise. Ash was honest! Ash kept his promises! always!

Dust sobs as he hides beneath the seats. Hiding.

"Dust? Waht are you doing here?"

Dust blinks through the tears and looks up. He sobs as he pushes himself upright. Ash. Ash. IT IS ASH! He jumps to hug him only to go right through him and land in the mud leftover from the rain.

He turns and realises... he had been so focussed on his face that... that is only a floating skull and hands... but... but that can't be...

Ash flickers in and out of view. He moves his mouth clearly speaking but Dust can't hear anymore.

No... no no no no. He needs to tell people. Something terrible happened to Ash!

Dust finishes the last view lines and reads the information given in the book.

Ash frowns as he flies over and around it "It looks complex... Waht ritual is this even?"

Dust rechecks the text "A Life force transfer."

Ash blinks and turns sharply "what?"

Dust nods as he checks the different tinier circles to signify where eveyrone has to stand "I think... the reason why the other spells failed was because you don't have enough life force. which i think is just soul energy. You died and are just your left over soul energy now. that affects how you look and everything. It is why we need to anchor you with your dust." he taps his pendant. "Which is why we even use this."

Ash frowns and looks at the ritual considerate "So what... you think we just need to boost my life force and i may be able to be resurrected?"

Dust nods "That is the plan."

Ash frowns "I don't know about this Dust... stealing someone else's life?"

Dust shrugs "It is fine. The one who gives it needs to be willing."

Ash snrots and shakes his skull "Who would be an idiot big enough to give their life force awya freely?"

Dust shrugs "don't worry... i got that part of the ritual covered. Mind going over there? I need to check if the runes to transfer the energy to you would work."

No one believed him.

Everyone just looked at him with pity when he told them he saw his brother's spirit.

that his brother had been murdered or got into an accident.

He wouldn't have left him otherwise!

No one believed him. No one.

The funeral was terrible. He hated every second of it as they jsut spoke some words. They didn't even have his brother's dust to spread on his favourite things.

his parents wanted to do a burial. Even though Dust knew Ash hated the idea of being underground. All that meant was that most things important to Ash were being burried.

forever out of reach. Now he can't even get comfort out of those things.

Dust goes home wiht his parents but neither look at him beyond this dirty look. Dust doesn't care. He has a mission.

His brother's spirit is weak. very weak. He can do some rituals to strengthen it maybe. normally offerings and stuff like that works to get spirits to be stronger, at least for a little while.

If Dust wants to find his brother he needs to do that.

He grabs what he needs and goes back to the school. It is where Ash spend most of his time and most liekly has the strongest imprint of him. Not to forget dust saw him on the sport field. He gets there and makes the offering.

A flicker. Dust smiles but Ash just looks panicked. Telling him to go. let him go as well.

Dust shakes his head. he can't let go of Ash.

Ash is still too weak to say a lot but a tiny bit gets through "... stay away... coach..."

oh. it is so obvious! Of course the creepy coach had something to do with it! Dust stands up and looks at the gym. So that is where the answers lie. Ash looks more panicked but Dust just smiles at him "It is okay Ash... I swear i will fix this!"

He will find out what happened. make sure Coach got what he deserved for hurting his brother and then... then... Ash can move on... Ash will be able to rest...

Ash will leave him...

No. don't think like that. Ash deserves to move on. Ash deserves to find peace! even if it means Dust will lose him forever. He won't force Ash to become a wandering restless spirit.

Ash is shaking his skull at him and trying to keep him from going towards the gym. That is fair. it ist still night. He will need a better timing for this. luckily it is the weekend soon and he will be able to get to work.

Dust nods and smiles "ther. everything is in place."

Ash frowns as he floats above it "so let me be clear." he points to one spot "this is the spot of the life force giver." he floats to another spot "This is the spot of the life force gainer, me?" Dust nods and Ash floats to the small circle wiht the tiny bit of dust "why is the dust needed?"

Dust looks to the side "To make your body... I had to combine the ritual to give you life force and to give you a body... otherwise you would just get m- the giver's body and i doubted you like that."

Ash blinks and snorts "I thought you tod me that performing two rituals at once is too dangerous for mixups or to drain you." he grins at him "You can be so forgetful sometimes."

Dumb and stupid and useless-

Dust shrugs "It is better if it is done at once..." he mutters softer "only get one chance at this..."

Ash frowns at him and flaots over "hey... i know i made a big deal of the whole... it hurting thing before... but if you mess up and mix up words we can try again." he grins "I am already dead anyway. can't get much deader!"

Dust shrugs "maybe..." No. there is only one chance at this. It has to be perfect.

He gets one chance at this.

Dust stands before the office of the coach and takes a deep breath. trying to ignore the panicked flickering vision of his brother.

He was such an idiot. his brother had tried to warn him before in his dreams. yet Dust hadn't seen the signs. if he had done this that day... Ash may still be alive.

It is oaky though. Dust can do this.

He knocks on the door.

everything in the air is screaming at him. spirits of his past victims maybe? All trying to warn him to run and hide. Dust will not let his brother become just another wandering spirit. stuck to this disgusting excuse of a person.

The door opens and the coach gives a wide smile "Dust! I am so happy to see you. How are you doing? The news of your brother must have devastated you."

Dust nods and mutters "I miss him.. a lot.. but he liked gymnastics... i was wondering... could i get some training?"

The man blinks before his smile grows and he looks very excited "of course! It is an amazing thing to want to connect with your brother that way. such a grown up thing to do to!" he steps aside.

Dust is about to take a step when ash appears in the doorway. his arms crossed and him shaking his skull.

Dust takes a deep breath and walks into the office.

Coach and him... talk... it is mostly about ash. How ash was so far ahead of everyone. the hardest worker and how he was admired by everyone around him. How he enchanted people.

Dust agrees of course. his brother is the best. Which is why he is here.

Coach mentions that it may be hard for Dust to do what Ash did. As ash was older and had been training from a young age. But that he was willing to give Dust private lessons and tutoring to get him ona level where he can safely join the others in class. That the Coach would be happy to guide him and teach him anything he could want.

Dust mutters it sounds interesting and that he just wants to be closer to Ash. at least feel closer to him again.

The coach smiles and petted his shoulder as he stood behind him, it raised every instinct in Dust to run but he stayed put. The coach muttered about how that was a very grown up and honourable thing to do. Asking him again how old he was.

Dust answered truthfully that he is ten and the coach hummed "You act much older." he smirks.

Dust mentions that he should go to class but the coach just pats his shoulder. saying that he will have a word with his teachers and see if Dust can skip a few days of class to get some training and practise in. get those private classes started right away.

Dust eaisly agreed and nodded when the coach told him to stay put before he rushed out.

Dust immediantly got off his chair and started to search through the office. It didn't take long until he found a locked drawer. another weak spirit. one of a young human girl appeared before him. and held up numbers wiht her fingers. 4. 5. 3. 9.

Dust entered the numbers and the lock springs open. He looks inside and finds a file and a camera. He takes out his own old phone, a gift from Ash for emergencies. and takes a picture of what he found.

then he looks through the file and... oh... oh god.

Dust shakes as he feels vomit crawl up his throat. No. focus. he aims his camera and snaps a picture. Of every picture in there. of every child in tears and bond as the coach... touches... them...

He is shaking by the end before he reaches for the camera. searching and snapping pictures.

Find him. find him. find him. he has to-

found him.

Dust manages to take a picture before refering to his very first picture. he places everything back in the same place nad relocks the lock. and then he waits.

The coach returns with his homeroom teacher who gently reminds him that he can't just skip classes to learn gymnastic. but that he could look into getting him into it as a past school activity.

Dust nods nad mutters that he understands. trying to remain calm and hoping everything about him just screams disappointed over sick to the stomach.

He walks out of the office phycially fine.

But this isn't the end. He has one more thing to do.

Ash yawns as he looks up at the sky "Rain is still coming."

Dust hums "need rain. It was raining when you left your body. Need stuff to be alike."

Ash hums as he floats near the book wiht a frown "Hey Dust."

Dust nods "yeah?"

Ash speaks "I am not fluent in this language... what does this whole paragraph about pain passing?"

Dust feels his hand shake but forces it still "oh... it is part of the life force ritual... the giver... gives the life force... but to make it work to strengthen the one who gets it... well. the trauma of the one receiving it needs to go... so when the life force gets given the one who gives also takes the pain of the other... so waht they felt when they died. i think." Dust isn't looking forwards to that part. but maybe it is for the better.

After all.

It would ahve been better if Dust had died instead of Ash.

He is just righting a wrong.

He doesn't take this information to the teachers. or his parents. or the principle.

Dust walks 10 miles towards the police station. He goes right to the man at the reception and laid down his phone "Got the proof you needed that my brother was murdered."

It would be an udnerstatement to say that brought chaos.

The policeman behind the counter had at first looked amused but then he grabbed his phone adn started to scroll through the pictures. Each one making the other look more horrified.

Dust was rushed into a room with a very nice lady who asked him if he had any allergies or any health issues. Dust shook his skull.

another policeman returned with his phone and thanked him for his brave actions and that he was asking a lot of him that he would need to continue to be brave.

Dust didn't see it as being brave but answered the questions. Why he searched. He was honest. They looked sceptical when he mentioned ghosts.

Dust was ready to start crying. after everything. everything he did. would they not believe him? He was being honest. he doesn't know what else to do and-

And something had appeared on the white board. a pen floating and slowly writing the words "My brother is right. I am here. please... please listen..."

if there was chaos before it was nothing compared to this. the people working there got to work in a frenzy. They send people to the school to investigate. they called in professionals from the bigger cities and priests as well.

They asked him so many questions. if the coach had hurt him. if he had seen anything else. noticed anything.

Dust told them what he knew and noticed before just having to wait.

An high priest of some church came by. someone who could speak wiht spirits. the priest took one look around the room and spoke about how there are many spirits nearby. the priest than looked at Dust and nodded. saying it is nice to meet a new medium. something about him having talent for it and being a strong medium.

Dust didn't feel strong. he said as much. if he had been strong he would have known ages ago that something was seriously wrong with the coach.

The priest tells him he did amazing. more than amazing. but that this burden shouldn't have been his. that others should have notified people specialised in things in this nature as soon as Dust showed promise.

In the end it was anticlimatic. the coach was thrown in prison but he wouldn't admit where he hid Ash's body.

In the end Ash showed Dust where he ahd been burried. right under the playing field. and there were more hallow graves under there.

Dust hadn't been able to stop himself. as soon as the thing holding his brother's remains had opened he had thrown himself in. Only dust. of course there was only dust and left over clothes left.

scratching marks on the coffin. Ash had tried to get out...

Dust finally cries.

Dust nods and steps back "all ready. Ash? can you go to your spot?"

Ash floats over lazily "finally. I am honestly getting impatient. I think you actually got this one Dust." Ash looks excited "It would be awesome to be alive again."

Dust smiles as he slowly inches towards his spot "You could pick up gymnastics again?"

Ash groans "maybe. Coach kinda ruined that experience though... but college is still fun. What do you think? Think i can still be a cook?" he grins "You can also go back to highschool then. actually finish your own schooling."

Dust smiles as he gets near the offering circle "of course you could."

Ash nods as he looks around "so... who did you manage to convince to give over the life force and stuff? Someone already sick? someone very old?" Ash grins at him.

Dust is hoenstly trying to smile for his brother. but he is so scared. his whole arm is shaking.

Ash frowns "Dust?"

Dust takes a deep breath and steps in his circle.

Ash's sockets widen "what are you doing?! Get the fuck out of there!" he goes to fly over but the circle keeps him in his spot. a safety meassurement. It had been to make sure ash didn't accidentally leave his circle.

Dust slowly raises his hands as he tries to keep his panicking soul calm "it is okay... should be quick."

Ash shakes and looks furious "NO! YOu get out of that circle right now or so help me! I don't agree with this! I don't! This is not willing! I don't want this!"

the ritual circle that had all been glowing a soft green turns red and Dust can feel the affect that had been slowly starting to take place stop. Dust stares down adn glares at Ash "what are you doing? I am fixing things!"

Ash shakes his skull "this isn't fixing shit! You would be dead!"

Dust glares "So?! Everyone would be hapyp with it!"

silence around them.

Ash reaches for him "Dusty..."

Dust shakes as he tries to calm his shaking. stop being dramatic. you are twelve now. get over it. Ash can come back now. as seventeen and still pick up his life again.

Don't ruin this.

Dust rubs the tear away as he mutters "Just let me fix this..."

Ash shakes his skull "I don't want this..."

Dust glares "since when not!? You are always telling me how much you miss being alive. How much you wished you could ahve just amde a run for it when you were alive! How you would eat better food! Visit cooler places! Actually go to college and make something of your life!" Dust shakes "I know this is wasted on me... This chance... jsut take it!" he is shaking and crying "Just let me fix this... let me do soemthing that makes you love me again..."

The shaking gets to back and Dust just grumbles to the ground. He is so tired. everything is hard and no one likes him. No one trusts him. His parents left him as soon as Dust had to stay at the police station. Is it so bad? so bad that he just wnats his brother to love him again? if only for a few moments? and then just sleep forever?

the glow disappears as his concentration breaks and Dust tries to pull hismelf together. Rub his tears from his sockets as he tries to mutter the start of the spell again.

He feels Ash close and he flinches "sorry... i can do it and..."

"don't... please don't..." Ash looks heartbroken as he floats near him "damnit i wish i coudl hug you..."

Dust sobs and nods "me too..." his last hug was the mornign before Ash went to that last faithful practise.

Ash speaks softly "you don't ahve to fix anything..."

Dust shakes his skull "but if i hadn't been so dumb i would have known it were other victims. i could have warned you!"

Ash just shakes his skull "Not your fault."

Dust sobs "If... if i had searched faster i could ahve found you sooner."

ash shakes his skull again.

Dust looks downa dn mutters "i messed something up... and now you can't move on... I keep you stuck here because i don't want to be alone..."

Ash snorts and shakes his skull "Dust... you did everything right. You got my murderer brought to justice and you guys found my remains. I had felt it. I had been able to move on right then and there but... well..." he looks at dust "I wasn't going to leave you after that.."

dust looks down and rubs his tear angry "so... you feel like you ahve to stay because i am weak and pathetic..." he needs to do this ritual. give ash the life he deserves and-

Ash laughs "no you dum-dum." he grins "I am here because i don't want to move on without you." Ash floats around him and rests on his skull. Dust can't feel pressure from him but he feels the energy of his brother near "there was no way i was going to leave you because i don't want to leave you. It is just as much for me as it is for you dusty. You are my brother."

Dust feels hismefl relax "i am sorry."

Ash gently hushes him "hush. No need to feel sorry, well aside form the fact you scared the unliving daylight out of me. Promise me you will never do something this stupid ever again. No giving your life or soul or any of that or the energy of either to others. you hear me?!"

Dust laughs and nods "promise..."

Ash hums "good. Now. Mess up this ritual circle thing. and burn the pages of the book detailing it."

Dust frowns "but what if we actually ened it and-"

Ash hushes him "no. None of that. No life force trading."

Dust sighs but does as told. messes up his circle. retrieves his brother's dust. and he uses a lighter to burn the page of the book holding the ritual.

Ash nods "much better."

Dust sighs as he starts to leave the forest "I don't know any other way to bring you back."

Ash shrugs as he floats with him "we aren't in a hurry."

dust frowns "you will miss things you could do in life?"

Ash grins "that is the great part. you can always catch up. I don't ened to be young to go to college. to start to learn how to cook. or any of that." he floats around him and it now looks like they are both wearing the red scarf "so no hurry."

DUst sighs and nods before muttering "we are going to have to find a stronger anchor for you. at least until i am old and strong enough to be the anchor myself."

Ash nods "much better. Time yo go to our favourite spot the library and do some research. AFTER! You ate and showered. You are soaking wet and don't think i didn't notice you skipped breakfast again."

Dust nods and sets into the right direction. Maybe one day he will figure it out. For now he will jsut learn what he can.

*------------------*

[seafoamreadings]

types of psychic

people have a tendency to associate the moon and neptune mostly with psychic abilities. there are good reasons for that! but what about all the other planets?

the sun - aka apollo. i don't think most astrologers or even pagans/witches/suchlike associate the sun much with psychic ability but apollo is 1. the twin brother of artemis (the moon), whom everyone DOES associate with psychicness, and also 2. the god of prophecy. y'all have heard of delphi right? the sun can be associated with your ability to prophesy, especially if under the influence or unexpectedly. the truth may be a riddle but it doesn't stop it from being true.

the moon - people automatically associate this with psychic ability and intuition and pretty much always have. this is FEELINGS, empathy, just kind of knowing things without knowing how or why. it CAN also be but isn't always related to visions, divination, etc.

mercury - the psychopomp and ruler of communicative exchanges. this is telepathy and maybe also a bit of astral travel. arguably not 'psychic' per se but related for sure and imo it is a form of it. along with telepathy a bit of psychometry - you can feel stories through holding an object or being in the right area.

venus - connection through love and pleasure. often physical touch. some psychometry here as well. you know which clothing items or perfumes will bring you success. people may see this talent as vapid but it is sacred and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

mars - if telekinesis is a thing it's under this planet's rulership. it is also that feeling in the body, that compulsion or urge or impulse to move to a certain place, to be in the right place at the right time, to step out of the way in the most spookily perfect moment.

jupiter - a strong jupiter is a law of attraction style manifestation boss. you ask and it is given. and if that doesn't seem psychic to you consider that part of you always knew you were going to have it, and then you get it; it's a form of clairvoyance and time travel.

saturn - very "know it in your bones" kind of psychic, plus a boost from your ancestors who gave you your bones in the first place. they talk to you sometimes, you know.

uranus - divine inspiration. flashes of genius. a spiritual download. unintended insights. you can't typically control these, they just happen.

neptune - prophetic dreams, clairvoyance, transcendent empathy, and perhaps even a little bit of telepathy. the classic psychic medium of spiritualism. can definitely talk to spirits, although this is also the realm of pluto.

pluto - definitely some channeling, seeing ghosts, necromancy even. while saturn knows things in the bones, pluto knows in the guts, especially the colon, very viscerally.

[rubyroboticalt]

Minecrafters grab your pickaxes, and catch up on the QBLR QUATERLY!

What's up guys, update just dropped! It sure is something to try and decipher, huh. We've got pages of new stuff to go over, so let me learn you a thing about all the events and mishaps that happened on the server this week!

This week, we missed last week, and I messed this part up in the video. oops.

A quick recap of last week: Ghost, Andor, and Katie completed a full 24 hours online playing! Ghost also got possessed and killed all her spouses except Clenex. Mozzarella got maimed at the school and is suing for an insurance payout.

Gummy's new body is looking pretty good! At the statue garden, the white baby's statue book reads like a twitter hate thread. Seren ate a deadly amanita muscaria mushroom and died. Snowball had a dance party with their carers!

The backpack organization ratings begin, and while the news must remain a neutral source of information, I personally am making some judgements.

Mozzarella throws a popular party that a ton of people totally came to. The school goes on a field trip to the Nether! Tonmy builds a very pretty glass gazebo and invites some friends over to hang at it!

Through the power of dark magic and ritual necromancy, Dollie's family is complete again. Teivel thinks of only the best names for pets. Popcorn and their family find Zephyrous in a beautiful Radiant Crypt! I mean, look at that palette! Ignore all that stuff about the Radiant Swarm I'm sure it's nothing.

Nightmare has some sort of awful Food Boy style incident with pies. That is a lot of pie. The Void Sanctum is once again safe for visitors though if you ask me, anywhere is safe for visitors when you have a clipboard and high-vis vest. Gummy invites Nightmare over to see the kids and through an unfortunate series of events, a hole is broken in the wall.

Berry finds a prism geode that isn't even buried underground. How can this happen? Is it true a geode can form in this way? More at 6.

And now, some autistic Minecraft behaviors.

Apple shares some lovely photographs of their beautiful base. Val and Kia finally find tables big enough for their 18 children to share a meal at. Splat uses stacks and stacks of glass to make a roof for a greenhouse even though this house looks pretty white to me.

And now, a reading from r/malelivingspaces. Cherry plank floors. Pine walls with dark oak baseboards. Cinder(?) brick wall on the left side of the room. Single doorway leading to identical room on the back wall. No door. No furniture. Ambiguous dim light source. Bug hiding in a cranny on the left side of the room. Swamp staring at the brick wall. This has been a reading from r/malelivingspaces.

And this week on the server ends with the bite of 87?

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Undead Heart

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.4K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: necromancy, defensive reader, Astarion being a supportive little baby (he is so precious), doubt, reassurance, flufffff, kinda angst? idk

———————————-

Astarion laid his head on your chest, smushing his face in for good measure. You let out a breathy laugh. It was still early, the birds hadn’t graced the winds with their songs yet. The sun hadn’t peeked over the horizon to start the new day. You held Astarion close, one hand gently caressing his soft curls at the base of his neck - the other drawing circles on his bicep that was holding your waist. For a creature who didn’t sleep he appeared pretty dead to the world currently. You listened to the little breaths that left his mouth. You watched his eyes move beneath his closed lids. You loved looking at him, especially when he was like this. His face was calm and smoothed over with rest. Nothing could hurt him here, you wouldn’t let it. 

“Staring is rude.” he mumbled into your chest, somewhere between sleep and wake. 

“It’s not staring, it’s admiring.” you whispered into his ear, kissing the side of his face softly. You could feel a begrudging smile form on his face for a moment before his breathing evened out again. 

You slowly slipped away from him. You were a necromancer, of unknown origin. Your past was muddled but you had found histories of yourself at the citadel from the far reaches of Faerun. You had lived a life. Full of good and bad but your future was yours alone to define. You were ancient, you never aged. The years, for the most part, had been kind to you. Your powers were unmatched and your beauty was unparalleled. Slipping out of the tent you walked out of camp through the fog of the early morning. You could feel the sweet dewdrops kissing your feet as you walked barefoot to the cemetery you had passed yesterday before setting up camp. The souls there called to you. They wished to be released, to visit one another after an eternity apart. As you walked to the center of the graveyard you felt your powers start to flow from your palms. Black smoke and glowing green light emanated from you, swirling and twisting about. Figures started to arise from the graves, transparent and ghostly. You kept your concentration as the ghosts mingled. Laughing and dancing with one another as if they were in the midst of a ball. Your power enveloped the graveyard in a shimmering light, as if millions of little sparkles had graced the small event you created. You walked through the endless rows of graves, quietly admiring everyone. Out of all the things you could do with your abilities, this was always your favorite. Reuniting old friends, families, lovers. Even some enemies who decided to call truces due to their undead circumstances. Everyone always looked so happy, so relieved. The ghosts could see you just as you could see them. One floated through you before another held your hand, spinning you about to the quiet tune that drifted through the air. An enthusiastic bard playing his instrument, as if he had never put it down all those centuries ago. You knew the sight was strange, and that people often found you strange yourself. Death did not scare you. You were its equal and enjoyed teetering that otherworldly line. 

You had never shown this power to Astarion, concerned he would find it odd. You had been together for  a few months. He knew you were ancient and powerful but beyond that you tried to be quite vague. You continued to smile and laugh amongst the ghosts, feeling relieved to use your powers. In battle you were skilled with necrotic and psychic attacks along with general melee fighting but this is truly what you enjoyed using your powers for. Bringing peace, unity. After a while though, the air shifted. You felt eyes watching you. You searched for the source, eyes finding a very much awake Astarion leaning against the graveyard gate.You jumped, sucking in a shocked gasp. You made the shimmer fade, the swirling slow, the smoke dissipate. The ghosts slowly drift back to their respective graves, solemn looks on their faces. No amount of time living or dead would be long enough with each other. And yet, you felt their appreciation radiate to you. You felt pale, almost sickly. Astarion was going to think you were some sort of freak, you just knew it. You slowly made your way to him, keeping your head low and arms tight across your chest to protect yourself from some unknown threat. 

Astarion’s face wore a slight frown, his eyebrows drawn up in a furrow “Little love, whatever could be the matter?”

Your heart raced at the pet name. “How long have you been standing there?” you asked, walking past him, heading back to camp. 

He trailed after you, “Long enough. You looked like you were enjoying yourself.” he quipped. There was no malice in his tone, nor teasing but it made you cringe internally anyways.

“I wish you hadn’t.” you whispered, walking into your tent. 

Astarion felt confused, he tried to follow you into your tent but was stopped by a similar shimmering force at the entrance of your tent. He stepped back, he could still see and hear you but he couldn’t get to you, couldn’t touch you. 

“I would like to be alone.” you said picking up a book and sitting down, eyes never meeting him.

“Darling…” Astarion said quietly, noticing a few tears on your face. “Please let me in.” 

“Why?” you spat, you wanted to fill your heart with anger in preparation for the negativity you were sure you were about to receive. 

“I let you in.” he spoke softly, you knew he wasn’t just talking about his tent. He had shown you every facet of himself, the least you could do was let him into your damn tent. 

He slowly pulled the book from your hands as he sat down, attempting to take them in his own. You pulled away quickly, crossing your arms over your chest. He felt a pang of hurt within him but pushed it aside. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Well, get on with it…” you huffed  out shakily. 

“I have to say… that was pretty powerful magic you were doing back there…” you snorted a bit at his comment. ‘If only you knew’ you thought. 

“Freaky, right? Strange? Unnatural? Unholy?” you rambled off sounding angrier by the second. Your walls were building back up at breakneck speed, preparing for the worst. 

“My sweet, why do you sound so upset? I thought what you were doing was quite… amazing. Honestly… everyone looked so elated, thanks to you.” your eyes flicked to his. 

“I know it’s weird to be so… involved with the dead. I never wanted you to see me doing anything like that… but they sounded so sad, so lonely…” you tried to explain yourself.

Astarion chuckled, causing you to snap your head up. “My precious, you do realize I am undead? I think I might understand better than anyone why you wanted to give those souls a reprieve. It was… sweet of you.” he smiled at you tentatively, hesitantly going for your hand. He smoothed his thumb over the back of it. 

You wanted to trust him, to believe him. Yet a voice still tugged at your mind. “You think so?” you whispered.

“Darling you gave them a few minutes of life, do you know how sacred that must be for them? And you did it out of the kindness of your heart. Now that, is truly meaningful. That shows the soul you possess.” Astarion moved his other hand to cup your cheek, tilting your face to be level with his. 

Your eyes were glossy, “I just don’t want to be too different. Too strange.”

“You are quite strange… it’s quite possibly my favorite thing about you.” he smiled, his fangs peaking out a bit. “Do you know why I rest on your chest so much?”

You shook your head ‘no’ at him.

“I do it so I can listen to your heart. I feel almost as if mine beats with yours for the first time in centuries when I hear it. Strong. Compassionate. Wonderful.” you tilted your head into his hand, kissing his palm. 

“I love you.” you said quietly. 

Astarion smiled, you had only said those words to each other once before when your emotions became too much to hold inside. 

“And I you, endlessly my strange little love.” he kissed you deeply yet gently before laying you both down. He settled in his usual spot, listening to your heart. Strong, even, calm.

-------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello! I hope everyone likes this piece, it came to me suddenly as I am in fact writing and posting it at damn near 2 AM #worthit. I think I might try to write another this weekend but I work tomorrow and have been pretty exhausted (mentally and physically) as of late so idk, no promises. Anyways - thanks for all the likes comments, reblogs, and requests! Ilysm xoxoxoxo, talk soon.

[mikimakiboo]

Ghosts & Medium AU by @ancha-aus :3

I'M FINALLY DOOOONE I was busy so I couldn't finish sooner :(

A nice AU idea where Dust is a medium and goes to haunted places to help the ghosts leave and rest in peace :)

Until he finds Killer, a very flirty and clingy ghost who seems to have fallen in love with him at first sight

The post that started it all

And my interpretation of everyone's backstories under the cut !

Tw: mention of torture, death, starvation, possession, religious trauma, sect

Medium Dust

( official backstory )

He had a rough childhood, being bullied most of his life because he kept saying he "could talk to ghosts", that made him the weird kid

He can really talk to ghosts tho, but it depends on how strong the ghost is, if it is a weak ghost he will need material to be able to communicate with them, but if the ghost is strong (like his brother, Killer, Horror and Cross) he will be able to see and talk to them without any material needed

He later decided to use this ability to work as an exorcist and soon became popular as he was one of the rare ghost hunters to actually have good results and not doing it for tv

That's when he met Killer, and regretted chosing this job

He used to be a lone wolf, only talking to his dead brother who never left his side after Dust failed to reanimate his body after studying necromancy, but now he is a tired guy trying to monitor four ghosts and a demon, and killing himself isn't an option for a very obvious reason that is: he would become a ghost too

Ghost Killer

( official backstory )

I wrote his backstory in an ask before making this post

Quick summary: Killer was a hitman who killed a very important man (possibly mafia boss), the man's family got mad, kidnapped him, kept him tied up in their cave to torture him and make him pay for the murder, and ended up leaving him to die in an abandoned train wagon, still tied up so he wouldn't escape, due to that Killer is deeply afraid of loneliness and ropes (and just restraints in general)

He caught an interest in Dust because for the first time someone wanted to know him, and having been manipulated all his life the fact that Dust asked him things about himself and listened to what he had to say made him fall for him in an instant

He then swore to stay by his side no matter what ! Dust is not happy about that

Priest Cross

Why did he become a priest ? To please his father, and as a punishment too

( official backstory )

Cross is the priest of the universe !

Cross's father, XGaster, didn't like that his son was bisexual and after trying many conversion therapies he forced him to go to the church and become a priest so that he would devote his life to God, never take a partner, and hopefully quit being bi

Cross, of course, got influenced by his father's opinions and thinks that being a priest is the best choice, he got traumatized by the therapies and genuinely thinks that being bi is a sin and that he will burn in hell of he ever feels attracted to a man

Needless to say he didn't take it well when he realized he was attracted to FOUR men, one of them being a demon, two of them being dead, and one of them (Killer) having possessed his body to flirt with Dust (Cross was supposed to exorcize him but messed up and Killer possessed his body instead, so now Cross is the ghost following Dust around, waiting to take his body back, and having to witness his own body flirting with Dust)

Ghost Horror

Horror was born and spent all of his life in a sect in the middle of nowhere, not that he wanted to leave anyway, but even if he wanted to he couldn't have reached out to anyone because there wasn't anyone aware of their existence

Food was sacred in the sect, so much that it would be used as sacrifice for their supreme leader (Undyne) and that only the worthy would be allowed to eat, and they still didn't have much food left

Horror was part of the worthy, he believed whole heartedly that the sect was good and only ever acted for its good

Until his brother made a mistake and was left to starve

And Horror loved his brother way more than he loved the sect, so needless to say his death greatly affected him

He started questioning Undyne, questioning the sect, and of course he got into troubles for that

He was hit, his head got badly injured, and he got locked up in the room where they left those unworthy of food, he later died of hunger

He haunts Dust now, and he always makes sure he eats during the day, being very scared that he might be hungry too as he had been hungry all of his life and died because of that, he is very insecure about food and always scared that there won't be enough

Demon Nightmare

A demon born in heaven and banished in hell, twin brother of an angel

Angels don't want to hear about him as he is a demon and demons don't trust him as he has angel magic in him and angel magic is more powerful than demon magic

Thanks to, or because of, the angel magic Nightmare is one of the most powerful demons in hell and quickly got a reputation among mortals who summon him quite often

But the thing is, he is too powerful, and demons don't trust him even if he never showed any sign of rebellion, but to prevent any risk they decided to lock him away, separating his spirit (not his soul as demons don't have souls) from his body, leaving him as a broken version of himself only able to do small spells

But he still has a reputation, and Dust summoned him in hope he could do something for all the ghosts already following him, and Nightmare agreed on one condition: Dust had to give him his body back

Lots of things happened, Nightmare got his body back and is now tied to Dust because of their deal, but he never gets rid of the ghosts because he grew attached to them even tho he won't admit it, he will say that he finds them untertaining instead

Anyway Nightmare has big trust issues as he was betrayed by heaven first (and by Dream who did nothing to defend him) and then by hell, so it takes a long time for him to admit liking the group as deep inside he's still afraid they're gonna turn their back on him like everyone else did

(He also tries to convince Dream to stop trying to exorcize Dust when there is clearly no need to (Dust doesn't agree with him))

God Error

A God with not many followers but the few he's got are very devoted

His followers tried to sacrifice Dust once as they recognized he had a great power (plus the fact he had a demon following him around), but of course Dust's mates stalkers intervened and killed the followers

Blood having been spilled, and followers' blood being a greater sacrifice than other people's blood, Error got summoned, but instead of being mad that his followers got killed he was actually curious of Dust and declared him as his high priest to keep an eye on him and his little teammates

Error now shows up once in a while to appreciate some drama, Nightmare also became his new gossip buddy as Error talks shit about other Gods and Nightmare talks shit about Angels and Demons

[cowboybrunch]

writerblr intro

hi! i'm sav (she/her). i'm a twenty-something poet turned novelist.

i mostly write character-driven stories with unreliable narrators and complex villains. if that sounds like your kind of thing, hop in!

i love tag games (please tag me please please) but it might take me a while to get to them

feel free to say hi! let me know what you're reading! tell me about your WIPs! and my final demand: have a great day!

Poems/Journal Dumps

WIP Intros:

Burden of the Reluctant Death (revising)

“Energy,” he says finally, so quiet that I strain to hear him. “The universe is saturated with it. It’s how I can read your thoughts, how I can travel through shadows. When someone dies, their soul is… recycled. Turned into sparks that Mortae can use for various purposes.” “That’s a comforting thought.” He turns his attention towards me, letting the coin fall. “Is it?” I nod, biting my lip as I try to find the words. “Nobody is ever really gone, then. Just returned, like water evaporating from the ocean and coming back down as raindrops.”

Character Introductions

Tag

Judas Wept (finished)

A prequel to Burden of the Reluctant Death that follows Elias as he tries to balance loyalty, love, and duty.

He does not remember his first thought after he dies, likely something so inane that even white-knuckle sifting through his wretched brain leaves him with nothing but a resounding headache. He does, however, remember his second thought: Christ alive, that sucked, and his third: Why is there a beautiful woman straddling me?

Posted here

Tag

Dust to Dust (first draft in progress)

A murder mystery with necromancy, ghosts, politics, and an absolutely non-sentient skeleton.

The rattling of bones warned her approach. She kept the skeleton with her when she was nervous, and she was nervous more often than not, try as she might to deny it. Nobody else would’ve been able to tell; her anxiety manifested as bursts of irritation, often lashing out at whoever (or whatever) was nearest. Robbie had known her for far too long and was not fooled. Most thought her immature and youthfully rebellious, a phase she’d grow out of— or not. It was of no consequence. She was not the heir, only the younger sister. Her fits did not matter. She also had greater necromantic ability than the crown prince. This did not matter either.

Posted here

Tag

You Were Warned About the Forest

You were warned about the forest. Mama told you that the trees speak when the sun goes down. Mama told you not to speak back, even if they’re calling your name. Especially if they’re calling your name. You’re young though, so when the moon comes out, you think, Mama would tell me not to breathe if she thought the air would tickle my lungs. That’s how you end up here, half-blind and dead tired and not lost.

A twine game! Play it here!

Untitled Vampire Story (first draft in progress)

“You are exactly how he described you.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a neatly folded paper, extending it towards me. “The prodigy. Nicolai’s assassin.” “In the flesh.” I take the paper from her, unfolding it and skimming over the names. Seven, and none that I recognize. “Any special requests? Parting remarks, items you’d like me to leave, messages you’d like me to relay?” She grins, fangs glinting in the dim moonlight. “You’re not one for small talk, are you?” I don’t reply, proving her point. “Start at the top and go down the line. I want them to know you’re coming. I want them afraid. Your dagger in their heart will be enough of a message, don’t you think?”

Tag

[scrivenger-grimgar]

they said it so well

In hindsight the popularity of using “demonic cultivation” for what Wei Wuxian uses is running counter to what is actually in MDZS being used. It is resulting in a lot of fandom confusion, particularly since demonic cultivation is a xianxia genre standard. But that’s not what is going on in MDZS. The genre standard demonic cultivation revolves around stealing qi, absorbing life energy from others, possessing others to get access to their greater cultivation abilities, and in general much more assholery than what Wei Wuxian does. The actual term used by Wei Wuxian and most of the narration in the novel is Guǐdào; aka Ghost Cultivation. It revolves around manipulating the dead, using resentful energy as a power source, and to be absolutely blunt it is a form of necromancy. It is the “redirection” option in dealing with the dead; drain away resentful energy so that you can convince the dead to finally let go and be liberated. Either by getting the justice they were denied in life or having lifted the worst of their anger and attachment so they can think clearer. Not demonic cultivation. The very title “Mo Dao Zu Shi” is part of the subversion element and part of setting in motion assumptions about the story for the original Chinese readers who know the genre and what the usual tropes are. Because calling it “Gui Dao Zu Shi” would give away too much from the start of what is actually going on. Also per MXTX, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are “morally perfect” and as that is the intention given by the author herself, that means nothing Wei Wuxian does with ghost cultivation has to actually harm the ghosts in a way that would be morally wrong. Like destroying them, preventing them from reincarnating, that kind of thing. He does not hurt the dead. He’s honestly shown to be more friendly with the undead; he is endlessly kind to them in fact and even gentle. Polite too and that deserves marking because Wei Wuxian ignores most manners because he generally doesn’t care. But he puts that care into how he treats the gui (undead) he commands and works with. He gives them rewards for a job well done as shown in the Yi City arc! The one who does use ghost cultivation to hurt both the living and dead is Xue Yang who is repudiated by Wei Wuxian; “Xue Yang has to die” is what he says and that is what he helps Lan Wangji do. But the actual founder? The guy who made it and is the absolute master of it? Rejects that kind of thinking all the way through the story, even at his lowest.

written by lovepsychothefirst on pillowfort

the tag on ao3 is Demonic Cultivation (Modao Zushi) when it should really be Ghost Cultivation | Guidao (Modao Zushi) or something similar, and there should also be specification on which canon is being used, bc in CQL, the manhua, and the donghua, Guidao has adverse affects when in the novel it doesn't do shit to the practitioner.

[herbgerblin]

Graphic Novel Sample Pages be upon Ye!

Have a peek at part of the pitch deck that @anonymousalchemist and I have been working on. The complete package is still in progress but will be queried out to agents (hopefully) later this month.

Right now, we need feedback! We've been scratching our heads for comparisons of existing media, so if there's anything recent or popular that this story reminds you of, feel free to shoot me an ask! (or just tell us if you like it :3)

Summary:

Emory Arrowgant thought he was safely dead. Then his psychopomp boyfriend, Isaac Yong, yanked him back to the land of the living. If only Isaac had been successful. Torn from the White City and stuck in the slipstream haze of the radio, Emory must help Isaac solve the mystery of his murder in order to be laid to rest. But Emory’s not the only thing that Isaac brought back. All sorts of undead horrors have slipped through the crack in reality created by Isaac’s rituals. And Isaac is honor-bound to hunt them down--if the Glassfall police don’t put him away first. What they’ll soon learn, though, is that the botched necromancy, the monsters, and Emory’s murder are all connected. After all, Isaac wasn’t the only necromancer in town that night. And Emory isn’t the only ghost.

Draft of Transcript up to Page 10 (A lot of dialogue has changed over the course of making the pages. I haven't had time to edit, sorry. I will do so this weekend!)

[witchlingcirce]

To be honest, I wonder how the necromancy thing will be dealt with in TDA!!

Because there are two types of consequences that Ty will be dealing with. The physical and the more social side of bringing someone back from the dead.

1. We already see that Ty is having physical pains/ weird attachments with ghost Livvy!! Like in GOTSM when we see that when Livvy is to far away and he falls unconscious.

I wonder if maybe something similar will happen in TWP. I think we can also see that Livvys ghost is unstable, mentally and I will assume physically. We see her shatter the windows at the fought of trying to inhabit Mina’s soul!!

So I wonder if maybe the problems are growing stronger and worse. And so that could be the reason he asks Kit for help, since Kit is the only person he can ask for help about this issue.

I think the strain that the ghost bond is leaving on both of them is probably what will lead to Ty finally saying goodbye.

2. THE SOCIAL ramifications. I honestly think this is the most interesting part of this whole situations.

How will Julian react, along with Helen, Mark, Emma ect. I honestly think this reveal is going to be really interesting because there’s going to be a massive blame game. At least I think so.

Julian will blame himself for not being there, for not turning his emotions on. I think Emma would probably feel similarly to Julian.

Mark I think will also feel similarly to Julian, about not being there to support him. But I also think Mark will be upset with himself for understanding enough how to properly handle the grief of his siblings. like at the start of TDA, where he tells Simon that he had already thought his sister was dead along time ago- and had grieved her before.

And HELEN, Will probably be thinking she was there but she doesn’t/didn’t know her siblings enough to help them. She wasn’t able to recognise that something was wrong with Ty, she couldn’t see all of the suffering he was going through.

Anyways I hope this scene is MESSY. It would be kind of interesting to see the Blackthorns, a very closely knit family also kind of turn on each other. They would obviously make up cuz they love each other sm- but yk ANGST.

And than there’s the political aspects of the resurrections. Honestly think is kind of hard to speculate because we’ve never actually seen the clave react to a resurrection like this.

Because honestly? I think Ty is going to be heavily reprimanded and probably punished. I don’t think they’ll be like “well you where sad :,(((“ I genuinely do think they’ll give me a serious sentence.

Maybe something like jailing him??? OR, threatening and or planning to strip him of his runes 👀

Anyways the twp needed to come out by like yesterday…

[i-luvsang]

song for the dead — kang yeosang

pairing : hecate!yeosang x gn!ghost!reader ➖⟢ genres : angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, fantasy, strangers to lovers ➖⟢ cw : murder & death, drowning, mythological inaccuracies, nightmares ➖⟢ wc : 2.5K ➖⟢ for : the elysium falling collaboration event !

bonus : inspo pinterest board & playlist

about hecate : hecate (often pronounced heh . kah . tee) is the greek goddess of magic, witchcraft, the night, the moon, ghosts, necromancy, and is the protector of entryways/crossroads. she is closely associated with dogs, torches, and liminality.

if you were an idiot, you’d think the strikingly handsome man with a doberman at his side could see you. he’s all the way across the street, looking right in your direction, but you know it’s the old stone wall behind you that he’s really seeing. you turn your head to look for anything interesting, maybe a plant growing in the space between the rocks.

there’s nothing, just grey, boring stone, lit by the yellow-tinted street lamps lining the road.

when you turn your head back in his direction, you nearly yelp aloud. he’s staring straight into your eyes.

the thought that he’s like you flashes through your mind, and then a pedestrian who’s distracted by the phone in their hand swerves at the last moment to avoid crashing into him. that means they can see him. people who are seen are alive and people who are alive can’t see ghosts.

but the way his eyes stay trained right to yours sends a shiver crawling up your spine. as if he’s challenging you, telling you that he can see you.

you're convinced he can when his gaze never falters from you as your dead feet carry you to him. the solidifying factor is the way his dog’s eyes follow your figure too.

“you can see me.”

“i can.” the doberman doesn’t move from the man’s side, but its gaze is somehow wary and calculating. you’ve never seen that kind of look in a dog’s eyes before. you turn your attention back to the man in front of you.

“but you’re not a ghost.”

“no, i’m not.” it’s almost disappointing when he says that. you think it would have been nice to have a gorgeous ghost friend to wander the streets and coffee shops with. he would perfectly fulfill the “gorgeous” part of the application.

“so what are you?” you’ve found yourself to be far more brazzen in death now that you reckon there’s nothing else for you to lose. 

“a god,” he answers simply, no conceit to the word, just honesty. that’s what convinces you it’s true. a human who thinks they are a god thinks they are better than what they really are. a god is a god, you suppose. he certainly looks like a god, his features sculpted to perfection and dark attire immaculate. the combination of his turtleneck, dress pants, oxford shoes, and long wool coat compliment his dark hair and eyes perfectly.

“not the god?” you question further, both of you easily ignoring the strange glances that people passing by throw at the man, or god, rather. he appears to be having a conversation with the air in front of him.

“not the one you think of.” he’s keen to giving answers that are straightforward, and yet they beg the asking of more questions. “there are many gods.”

“so which god are you?”

“i’m the god of many things. magic, the moon and the night, necromancy. and you, among other things.”

“me? how so?” you can’t lie and say he doesn’t intrigue you. it’s interesting that he can claim to be your god without sounding like he thinks he’s everything better than you.

“you’re a ghost.”

“so you’re the god of ghosts. and what, you’ve come to collect me and bring me to the underworld? seems like quite a menial task for the god of so many grand things.”

when he says your name aloud without ever having asked for it, you begin to wish you could take back the sarcasm you put into your words just moments ago. and yet, the tone of his voice is not threatening, more chiding than anything else. “you are right, it is not my duty to collect lost souls who still roam the earth. but the world is far different now than it once was for gods such as i. in the modern era, most ghosts do not know that i see them. evidently, you can tell. thus, you fall under my protection.”

a sort of warmth is planted in your chest at these words, a warmth you’ve been missing since the moment you realized that you were dead. you’re always, always cold. you’d think physical discomfort would leave you in death, but you can’t escape the chill that’s settled all the way down to your ghostly bones.

“but i’m already dead. what’s there to protect me from?” you keep up the cold front regardless of the way he made you feel just now. his gaze softens.

“your human life is over. your consciousness, clearly, is not. i think you’ve forgotten that you can still feel. ghosts are haunted too.” this time his words make you want to cry. you didn’t forget to feel. you simply choose to ignore it all and now he’s pulling it out of its box and showing it to you. you tear your gaze away from the sincere look on his face.

“can i pet your dog?” you make eye contact with the animal instead. he sighs.

“you may. she doesn’t bite unless i say.” talking about her he doesn’t sound so stern anymore, despite the vaguely threatening nature of the words he says.

a small smile finds its way to your face as you crouch to be more level with her. she’s stunning, her look just as god-like as her companion.

“hello,” you say, voice soft, but full of respect. reaching out, the feel of her fur and the warmth of her very living body sends a shiver through you. you forget you haven’t touched anything alive and breathing since you became a ghost until you feel her move underneath your touch. it’s exhilarating and comforting all at once. a breath you didn’t realize you were holding falls from your lips in a heavy, heavy sigh. as if she knows the way you feel, she steps closer to you and rests her long snout on your shoulder. it’s the closest thing to a hug that you’ve received since the night of the dark new moon and the dark eyes and the dark water and your breath catches in your throat as if it’s been stolen from you.

a hand on your shoulder startles you and breath comes rushing into your lungs in the form of a gasp. suddenly, you’re not dying anymore, like you were just a moment ago. then you realize you were dying over again in your head, that you’re already dead, and the god is calling your name softly.

you look up at him and the hint of melancholy in his eyes. the dog’s comfort is still there.

“you see now? i’m not forcing you to come with me or accept my help, but there are things i can provide you that no one else can. and i’d like to help if you’ll let me.” he’s genuine. who knew a god could be so kind.

when he holds out his hand, you are quick to take it. his flesh is not warm like that of his dog’s, but there’s comfort in his grip notheless. you stand and let your hand fall from his.

“thank you.” your voice is barely audible, but he hears it. you let your eyes meet his and realize you don’t know his name.

“you may call me yeosang.” he gives you the answer to the question you didn’t even ask aloud. then he does it again. “and, no, i can’t read your mind. but i can read enough from your eyes.”

“thank you, yeosang.”

“you’re welcome,” he says with that velvety deep voice of his. “i’d like to take you to a place for you to call home from now on. is that alright?”

it sounds lovely, but you hesitate. you think of the people you loved, the one’s you’ve been searching for. somehow, you can never find them, like they’re the ghosts and not you. you’re almost grateful, barely able to acknowledge how much seeing them would hurt.

your hesitance speaks loud enough for yeosang to know. “you will not ever be able to see them. just as they cannot see you, the people you loved in this life will not appear to you again until they too are dead. i’m sorry.” you sigh at the confirmation of what you already expected.

“then yes. take me there.” anywhere but here.

he nods to you, then to his doberman and she takes the lead, down the cobblestone road.

that night is the first time that you see magic. you see it now everyday. first is the moon, almost full, and following you as you walk. really, it’s following him, forever hanging right over his head no matter which direction you turn. you’re sure no one else can see it, but you can’t stop watching it move through the sky, completely disregarding any laws of science.

then, you get to see the way sparks fly from the palms of his hands and cast flickering shadows on the walls of a darkened alleyway. this time, when he grabs your hand, it’s so searing hot that you shut your eyes tight and almost yank yourself away despite the warning he gave moments ago. then, there’s wind whipping at your hair and a numbing chill in the air that wasn’t there moments ago. you open your eyes and it’s clear that you’re no longer in that alley. of course, he warned you about this too—the fact that you’d be teleporting halfway across the globe to the edge of the human world and walking into the prison turned paradise of the old, forgotten gods such as himself.

that night is the first night that you sleep in his home. you sleep there every night now. he gives you a room in the house that he claims is far smaller than anything he lived in during his prime, but is grander than any building you think you ever set foot in during your life.

slowly, he introduces you to friends of his. some gods, a few other ghosts or servants from the old underworld.

and slowly, he introduces you to feeling again. sometimes, it’s a nightmare. literally. you’ll wake in a cold sweat, the kind you thought you could avoid after departing from your physical body. but still, even in front of his warm hearth, you can’t rid yourself of the cold that soaks you through. those nights are the ones where you forget how to breathe for a moment, the ones where he started with holding your hand to calm you, the ones where, now, he’ll pull you right into his arms and tell you that it’s alright. that it’s over. 

other times, feeling isn’t too bad at all. nice, even. because he’s learned how to make you smile, with a joke or a clumsy mistake you didn’t know a god could make. he gives you books and flowers for your room. his dog, basillea will curl up next to you by the fire and fall asleep with her head in your lap. he shyly taught you an oddly comforting lullaby called song for the dead, and he’ll press a kiss to your forehead and hum it when he thinks that you’ve finally fallen back asleep after your nightmare. you’re glad that you can feel all that too.

but every time, you reject his suggestions to find out how it happened. how you died. he thinks it will help you move on. you think you’d rather not know. 

you haven’t told him that you remember some of it; you know why you feel soaked in coldness, why you can’t breathe when you wake up. but you don’t want to know how it came to be, because it feels like there’s something horrible lurking in the deep end of your memory, waiting to be uncovered.

but you’re insistent on ignoring that. until it can no longer be ignored.

this time, there’s a scream, so raw and terrified that yeosang uses his magic to be by your side in an instant.

“what’s wrong?” he demands, convinced of an active threat. you’ve never woken from nightmares with a scream. but it takes him less than a moment to see that it’s just you, gasping and clawing at the blankets like you’re drowning in them. soft and careful, his voice calls your name and begins a mantra of “it’s alright” and “i’m right here.” when his hands meet your shoulders to pull you up and into his arms, you bolt upright with a start before melting into his embrace. your tears are already wetting his shirt and he feels his own eyes well up at the sight and sound of you so afraid.

“breathe,” he reminds you, hand rubbing up and down your back to mimic the rhythm of “in” and “out.” when you can finally breathe properly, you’re still crying, clinging to him like he’s your lifeline. in that moment, he is.

he doesn’t speak once you’re still in his arms, save for the rise and fall of your chest. he just holds you close, for so long he thinks you’ve fallen back asleep without saying a word. and like he always does, he presses the gentlest of kisses to the crown of your head and whispers, “goodnight, my love.”

“don’t go,” you whisper back, before he can begin humming your song, voice pleading and broken. there’s a long moment of silence. “i- i drowned. in the lake.” he doesn’t say anything because he knows there’s more. you try to speak again, but the words get caught in your throat. “it…it wasn’t— yeosang, it wasn’t an accident.” your voice is so quiet that he can barely hear it. his heart drops. he feared it before, as the reason why you were trying so hard not to remember it. but he certainly didn’t want it to be true.

he wanted to protect you from the moment he saw you, out of duty and the natural role of protector he’s always been in. but it’s different now that he’s in love with you. it fuels a deep, deep despair and the kind of rage that he’s never been prone to have. for a moment, his heart seeks revenge, before it recenters itself to you.

for once in his immortal life, he’s a god at a loss for words. he’s seen murder and treachery far more brutal than yours, and yet nothing could have prepared him for this. he feels so humbled when he can only hope that his words will be enough.

“you’re safe now. i’m sorry, my love. i am so, so sorry. you did not deserve a death like this, or death at all—” he means it, even though it means you would not be his had you been given a fraction of what you did deserve, “—but i promise, no one will ever hurt you again.”

you nod and bask in his words. while you don’t think you can even begin to process your death all over again with this gruesome detail added, you find comfort that it will be with him by your side.

and with your throat ragged from crying, you begin to sing, still curled up in his arms. he joins you on the second line. and you sing until your voice gives out, and he sings until long after you’ve fallen asleep, the song for the dead.