#cheap candle holders

[mdcgifts]

How Can You Find The Best Candle Holders in the UK?

Candle holders are essential in any home decor, and finding the right one can be challenging. With so many options available in the market, choosing the best candle holder for your needs can be a daunting task. In this blog, we will provide you with a comprehensive guide on how to find the best candle holders in the UK.

Material:

The material of the candle holder plays a crucial role in determining its durability and overall aesthetic. Some of the most popular materials used for candle holders include glass, metal, wood, and ceramic. Choose the material that best fits your style and matches the overall decor of your room.

Size:

It is essential to choose the right candle holder to suit the size of the candle you will be using. A candle holder that is too small may not hold the candle securely, while one that is too large may look out of place. Consider the height and diameter of the candle holder and measure it against the size of your candle.

Style:

Candle holders come in various styles, from classic and traditional to modern and contemporary. Choose a style that fits your taste and your room's overall aesthetic. For example, a sleek, geometric candle holder would be a great choice if you have a minimalist, modern home. On the other hand, an ornate brass candle holder may be more suitable if you have a more classic, traditional home.

Purpose:

Think about the purpose of the candle holder. Are you looking for something to use as a centrepiece for a dinner party or something to add a soft glow to your bedroom? That will help you determine the size, style, and number of candle holders you need.

Price:

Candle holders can range from a few pounds to several hundred pounds, so it is important to consider your budget before making a purchase. Remember that high-quality candle holders often come with a higher price tag. Still, they will likely last longer and provide a more aesthetically pleasing look.

Reviews:

One of the best ways to find the best candle holders in the UK is to read reviews from other customers. Look for products with high ratings and read both positive and negative reviews to better understand the product’s performance, quality, and overall value.

Brand:

Consider purchasing candle holders from a well-known and reputable brand. These brands often have a proven track record of producing high-quality products and offer a warranty or guarantee.

Finding the best candle holder for your needs can be a challenge. Still, with a little research and consideration, you can find the perfect piece to complement your home decor. Consider the material, size, style, purpose, price, reviews, and brand of each candle holder before making your final decision. Happy shopping!

[wildestheart4ever]

I have a empty room I have full ideas for and none of the money for it

[1-800-local-slut]

House of Memories (Spencer's Version)

Spencer Reid x Black! Fem! FBI! Reader

A look at your life with Spencer through the eyes of his team mates

Warnings: none really, just fluff, the team being observant, adult objects (condoms, alcohol, etc.,), not a warning but a note: reader isn't in the BAU but she works in the FBI, through Emily's POV

“I wasn’t expecting an invite from you, Reid. Thanks for having me over.” The front door to the apartment opened. Emily was holding a bottle of cheap wine that she grabbed from the liquor store down the street when she realized she forgot to bring a house gift. It was a close call too, she was literally driving past it when she realized and had to make a very hasty u-turn. 

“It’s no problem, thank you for coming! Derek, Garcia and Hotch are in the living room, Rossi’s in the bathroom and JJ’s coming late. Her loss though, I think she’d really enjoy Interstellar and if she comes late I know she’s going to complain. Come in, just take your shoes off if you don’t mind.” Emily nodded, after Spencer gave her a light side hug and accepted the bottle from her. 

He wore a white tee-shirt, pajama bottoms, and smelt fresh. His hair was damp as well, like he’d showered a few hours ago but his hair is so thick that it takes a minute for it to dry. She noticed his light shrug, as if it wasn’t his preference but he would take it anyways. 

Ghosting through the threshold, she bent down and slipped off her boots. She heard light chatter, music, smelt a vanilla and sea salt (it was a rough guess) candle burning, and heard the clatter of pots in the kitchen. 

She couldn’t help it, her analytical mind working before she could stop it. Sometimes she would find herself profiling strangers even when it was rude. And profiling your coworker who invited you into his home was very rude. 

Spencer’s shoes were thrown on the floor, one knocked on its side but still close together. As if it was an attempt on his end to be some sort of neat. Pairs of heels, pumps, boots were lined on the shoe rack but after doing a quick count, she noticed something. There were far more womens shoes than there were mens shoes. About six pairs of men's shoes to a 10 women’s shoe ratio.

Aaron, David, Derek make three, and the other three were clearly Spencer’s. Pen’s shoes obviously were one of those female shoes. The bright purple heels sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the browns, blacks, and deep reds of the female shoes. 

‘Enough Emily, stop being rude.’ 

“Your house is beautiful Spencer.” She couldn’t help but look around in slight awe. She wasn’t expecting Spencer’s house to be so…neat? No, that sounds mean. Neat in a way that didn’t seem like it was all Spencer. Sure Spencer’s little unique touches were sprinkled about the apartment and she was still standing at the doorway.

There were pictures of nature hanging on the wall, of a young black woman standing in front of a large pond far from the camera. She wore a pink baseball cap and had her hands flung out as if to emphasize how big the pond was. Who was that? A secret lover? She looked familiar, like a face Emily had seen in passing.

“Oh thanks. I just moved in a few months ago so not everything is fully set up.” Spencer called from the kitchen, and there were three clicks from the stove. Then he slid out, wiping his hands on a towel. As she walked through the house, she noticed more.

Potted plants with lush green leaves, knitted plant holders hanging from the ceiling, a red and dark blue patterned rug on the floor in the hall. From where she stood, she could see there was a small dining area. A nice wooden table, with papers and files scattered all over. 

She found her way to the living room and saw her coworkers engaged in whispers on the couch. More papers and files were on the small tables on either side of the couch, a contrast to the neatness of the rest of the house.

“Hey everybody, what’s up?” Emily asked. Heads snapped towards her, and she noticed Penelope’s eyes curved up in a mischievous grin. 

“Hi! Come sit, come sit.” Penelope motioned next to her, Derek and Rossi sliding over to make room for her. 

“Did you make it in okay?” Hotch asked and Emily nodded while she slipped onto the brown leather sofa. A dark purple hand knitted black was thrown over the back of it. Did Spencer take up knitting or was this just a nice purchase? 

Spencer plopped down into the brown leather armchair and rested his feet on the pouf in front of him. Emily noticed how spotless the glass coffee table in front of them was. 

The whole house was ridiculously clean. The wooden floors sparkled, the carpets meticulously vacuumed, the TV sparkled and the speakers next to the TV were flawlessly dusted. The large oak bookshelf that was up against the wall that was closest to the kitchen was also dusted and the books neatly organized. 

When would Spencer have time to clean his house so thoroughly? They were on a mission all of last week, got back two nights ago and have been at work since then. Sure, it’s Spencer he could just be very clean but the way things sparkled, it was clear they were cleaned merely a few hours ago. 

When they did go home it was late at night and they were back at work early the next day. Did he spend his whole Saturday afternoon scrubbing his floors, and preparing to cook for them? Spencer wasn’t the type to have a housekeeper, especially when he does his work all over and you can’t exactly leave FBI documents in the eye of the eye of a random house keeper.

“Sorry about the paperwork, I still have to set up my study. I have to put up my desk and everything.” Everyone voiced a consolation, some variation of ‘I don’t mind’ or ‘you should see my place’.

“Not the handyman?” Derek teased, wiggling his eyebrows. Spencer chuckled and shook his head. Spencer’s been smiling a lot more lately.

“I like keeping myself out of the hospital. Did you know every 45 minutes a piece of furniture falls on someone, and 25,000 people a year are treated at the hospital for a furniture related incident?” Spencer rattled off, emphasizing the numbers with his fingers.

Before anyone else could say anything, the doorbell rang. Spencer glanced back at the door, before he sprung to his feet with enthusiasm like he was expecting  Emily and Penelope exchanged looks, giggling while Rossi lightly rolled his eyes.

“Of course he knows that. Also, did any of you know that Spencer moved to a new place?” Derek asked.

“Well I knew. I know where all of you live. But it was very considerate of him to invite us over.” Hotch nodded, taking a sip of a bottle of water. Not Spencer’s usual brand but she did notice a switch some time ago. From Purelife to Poland Spring.

“Did you see the coat? Hanging by the door rack?” Penelope whispered, motioning for everyone to come in closer. There was a devilish twinkle in her eyes, her brain working overtime.

“What, you think he has some… extra company? A secret lover?” Rossi chuckled. Of course she noticed, but she just thought it was Penelope’s. 

“Maybe! Do you think?” Penelope asked excitedly, her hands flapping around with enthusiasm. Oh Penelope, ever the romantic. Derek giggled next to Penelope. He was lightly smacked by Penelope as a rebuttal and he giggled as if the slaps tickled him and they heard Spencer’s reapproaching foot steps along with an extra pair of heels. 

They all turned, eager to see who it was. Would it be the woman in the photo? His mom? Someone else?

“JJ!” Emily exclaimed when the final member of their team came in. She twisted around in her seat, happy to see her friend. JJ wasn’t able to make it on their last assignment so it had been a minute since they’d seen her. For people who practically live together, spending almost every moment together while at work was normal. They’d all fallen into a natural balance of being around each other. Of course they’d missed JJ while she was out sick.

“Hi!” She held her arms open for hugs, while the entire team voiced their hellos.

“Sorry I’m late, the grocery store was ridiculous. You wouldn’t believe what I saw, some lady's ex boyfriend came there and she called the cops on him like right there in the store. Apparently, he gave her something on purpose. She got on the speaker and called him ‘Dirty Dick David’. And then they fired her for playing with the mic that way!” She told her story while passing out hugs and then plopped down in the opposite arm chair across from the one Spencer was sitting in before.

“What?” Spencer laughed while he sat back down. 

“Right there it happened.” The whole team was laughing and Emily remembered that this was why she got along with her team so well. The easy laughter was so simple and refreshing.

“Woah, right there is insane! I guess she was sick of him.” Emily leaned slightly into Penny, allowing herself more comfort

“Imagine being at work and your ex who purposely infected you with something shows up to both you? I’d be pissed too.” Derek chuckled.

“I’ve been through three wives and never got a reaction like that, Dirty Dick David certainly had it coming.” Rossi added before they all laughed even harder.

Then there was a loud ringing noise. Spencer’s phone was going off and he patted himself down, lifting himself up checking to see if he was sitting on it. Then he got up, his face making a tiny expression like he could finally recall.

“I’ll be right back guys.” He ran into the kitchen and Penelope pulled everyone into a huddle.

“Okay, here’s what you missed JJ, you ready?”

“I’m ready?” She asked with an arch eyebrow and a nervous smile.

“There’s a bunch of lady stuff around here, like a coat and I don’t know if you saw the shoes but there are a lot of lady shoes. Rossi was in the bathroom and saw a bunch of lady stuff too, like a special face cleanser but he didn’t wanna snoop. I think he should’ve gone for it but whatever. Also I don’t know if you know but I know that Spencer doesn’t cook. 

His house is also really clean like really really clean like it was just clean but when would he have gotten the time to clean it? I mean we got off work like three hours ago. Running theories? Spencer has a housekeeper, a secret girlfriend, or his moms visiting. Got it? Okay, got it.” 

JJ blinked after Garcia’s rapid rundown, Derek nodding like he was able to keep up with that and Hotch all around looked displeased.

“We are guests in Spencer’s home, don’t go looking through his stuff. Maybe Spencer likes that stuff, that’s not any of our concern.” He frowned with a crease in his eyebrows. 

“Yeah Garcia, besides if Spence did get a girlfriend then I think that’s great for him.” JJ chuckled and Derek rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

“I’m back! I picked up the shrimp and some wine. I also got some beers if you want any. The coolers are for me, you can have one but don’t take any of the pink ones. I like those ones.”  A familiar voice sounded through the house.

The sound of socks hitting the floor padded through the house and a young woman walked in. The woman from the photo more specifically. Her hair was in long braids that curled around her waist. She was gorgeous, a red scarf was wrapped around her neck to protect her from the chilly winter air. More specifically she was familiar. 

More specifically she was from a different team. More specifically a member of the HRT. The Hostage Rescue Unit. They’ve seen Spencer speaking with her a lot. They’ve teased him for their closeness multiple times, and knew they were a bit closer. But Emily didn’t know they were such close friends. For her to just walk into his home this way.

No offense to Spencer but when Emily said she was hot, she meant she was hot. Like she just stepped out of a magazine. And she never thought Spencer would have it in him to pull. Spencer was certainly nothing to sneeze at but my god was this woman attractive.

She was making her way through the house, to the kitchen lightly waddling. She held a bag of groceries and as if she could feel all the eyes on her she turned. 

“Oh hi! I’m sorry, I ran out to the grocery store. I didn’t realize we ran out of shrimp but the food will be done soon.” She beamed at them and put one of her hands on her hips. And Emily did as profilers do. She profiled even if she didn’t truly mean too. She was wearing pajama pants, and a puffy coat that was zipped open to reveal a white tank top. Above all she radiated joy, confidence and comfort.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Hotch cleared his throat, and she nodded at the members of the BAU.

“You got the shrimp?” Spencer called, coming out of the kitchen, slipping his phone into the pocket of his pants. He came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She instinctively angled her head to his and pushed herself up onto her tippy toes to plant a kiss on his lips.

Penelope was on the verge of exploding, her mouth open in a wide grin. She let out an excited squeal. The two agents jumped upon hearing the high pitched noise and everyone on the couch turned to face her.

“What?! Oh my god, when were you gonna tell us?!” Penelope asked, bounding up from the couch. Spencer looked confused above all as Penelope raced towards him and his apparent girlfriend.

“I didn’t think I had to, we weren’t exactly shy about it.” Spencer laughed as he looked at Penelope basically bouncing up and down in front of him. She giggled and Penelope paused.

“Dude we thought you were just friends?” Derek questioned from the couch. Spencer shook his head, looking more and more shocked by the second.

“So how long has this been going on?” Emily asked with a laugh. She had to laugh! How could she not be happy for Spencer? He looked so happy, he literally hadn’t stopped smiling since she came into the door and they kissed.

“Like a year? I mean, I know we jumped the gun with moving, but my lease was up and I decided that this would work and I couldn’t find anywhere close enough to work. We decided to go for it.” Spencer added, scratching the back of his neck.

“You guys really had no idea? I mean I tell you guys that we go out every weekend, I have a picture of her on my desk. We literally come to work together everyday.” Spencer exclaimed, motioning around with his hands.

“I don't see you that often at work, they probably don’t really notice those things.” She rationalized to him and rubbed a hand over his chest. He never moved his hand from around her waist. 

It all made sense. The candles littered around the house, the small basket of yarn and needles on the floor next to one of the arm chairs. The food even smelt too seasoned to be like anything Spencer could cook, the photos that Emily was just now realizing were taken of Spencer. The romance novel that Emily saw sitting on the glass coffee table. How spotless the entire house was. The shoes, the coat, Emily was just mad at herself for not recognizing the photo.

“Well. Way to go Reid, I didn’t know you had it in you.” She smirked at Derek’s remark and stood on her toes again. She whispered something in Spencer’s ear and he cackled with his mouth open in shock. 

He was turning a bashful shade of red and his voice squeaked as he sent her away. 

“I’ll be finished with your food soon, you guys.” Trailing into the kitchen, Spencer glanced over as if to check if she needed anything.

“Oh gosh, you didn’t have to cook for us! Thank you so much!” Emily exclaimed, realizing that she was just sitting there like a fish with her mouth wide open. 

“Let her cook, why not enjoy dinner and a movie?” Rossi joked. It seemed like the shock had dissipated and JJ giggled, her blonde hair shining like the Sun and Emily noted how her entire face lit up like a star.

“Honey, can you come help me with these groceries?” Spencer nodded, following her into the kitchen. They watched, waiting to watch them fully go into the kitchen. Then like little girls at a sleepover, they leaned back into their huddle. 

“Wow!”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” Hotch tried to keep the peace before his team of impatient agents ran rampant. Emily herself felt like she needed answers and she needed them now. 

“Did you see the way he looked at her? They’re so cute, I had a feeling when he came to work that one time smelling like perfume and wearing the same clothes but they were like all up on each other.” Penelope whispered excitedly. 

“I always knew opposites attract. You know they make a handsome couple too.” The excitement died down for a second and everyone had to look at Rossi. Who even used that phrasing anymore?

“You’re so old, Rossi.” JJ giggled and Hotch shook his head. Rossi smiled playfully, the way he always did when they made fun of him for being ancient.

“What do they even talk about? I mean sure they have stuff in common but for a whole year? I wasn’t expecting that!” Emily exclaimed.

“Reid’s never short on things to talk about.” Derek teased and Penelope swatted him again.

“I mean I noticed he’d been a bit happier but I wasn’t expecting this! I guess you just never know.” JJ added in, glancing over to the kitchen to make sure the two weren’t standing right there. 

“We can find out what they talk about.” No one wanted to admit it but they wanted to snoop so bad. So bad that when Penelope suggested it the best thing to do was to stop talking and be extra quiet so they could hear. Even Hotch, slowly reclined.

Over the clatter of pans, the soft clinking of bottles and things being put away, and dishes being taken out they heard her voice. 

“Emily brought us some wine. Pink.” Spencer’s voice broke through and Emily tensed up. Oh god, what if they hated the wine? 

“Oh my favorite. I’ve always liked that Emily. If it wasn’t for you, I’d go for her.” She laughed and plopped something into what sounded like a liquid. 

Derek made some funny eyebrows at Emily and Emily felt her cheeks heat up. JJ and Penelope both grabbed each other to stifle a laugh. As bad as it was to listen to your teammate and his girlfriend's conversation, they couldn’t stop.

“Aw babe don’t pout.” Then a kissing noise.

“There’s that smile. Also I picked up some condoms, we were down to six and you know we go through those like crazy. Speaking of which, I was thinking, do we really need those? I mean I’m on the pill and at the rate we go we’d save more money just not having sex. To be honest we spend a bit too much money on that stuff anyways and I don’t want to replace another bed frame. I like this one and we literally just got it. That or we just need to stop having sex so often. The call is totally yours but that bitch who works at the front cashier keeps looking at me funny everytime she sees me walk up.” It took a moment for everyone to process what she was talking about. It really took a moment. An identical frown spread over both Rossi and Hotch, and Derek had to put his fist in his mouth to avoid cackling. 

Oh god, this was an awful idea. Now there was just awkward silence. None of them could say anything even if they wanted to.

“So my options are death, death or going raw?” Spencer whined immediately.  Emily focused her eyes on something else instantly, the patterned carpet on the floor, the TV that was showing different scenery as it was in rest mode.

“Oh my god, you are so dramatic! You’re not going to die if we don’t have sexy every day.” The sound of a spoon clattering down and then she broke out into a fit of giggles.

“But how do you know!” He whined again.

“Like I said, it's your choice. It doesn’t really matter to me, I’m just sick of always having to go to the store. And you’re squeezing my ribs.”

“I like your idea. Besides, we have abortion money.” She gasped softly and then broke into light laughter. JJ’s jaw dropped open and Derek snorted before he covered his nose. Of everything that was expected it wasn’t that.

“That’s awful, baby.” She scolded and Emily got a mental image of the two. Was she standing in front of the stove, the smell of food wafting through the house, Spencer standing behind her with arms wrapped firmly around her? If Emily wasn’t so uncomfortable right now her mouth would be watering. It would also warm her heart to hear how happy her friend was.

“I’m sorry.” He joined in on the laughter.

“Oh my god we’re being awful host! Plate up the soup and I’ll pour the wine.”

Once the two came back out, it was hard to even look at Spencer knowing that he had apparently helped break a bed frame. Even if he was holding trays of the most mouth watering gumbo.

“Who wants to watch Interstellar?”

[obsessive-valentine]

5 stages of Grief (pt2)

Platonic Vampire Family + Fem!Reader

You attempt to come to terms with what you have become and youre new life with the Beaumont vampires, some more accepting than others. Part 2 of forever and always

You woke up amongst fine fabrics and soft pillows, it was like you were sinking into a cloud being hugged from all angles. Had you died in the night and now gifted an eternity on a cloud, you never thought so deeply about the afterlife. Was this heaven that so many speak of, or something different, maybe a waiting cloud as you wait in the in-between for your turn to move on.

Your eyes are heavy and your body is taking a lot longer to start up again. Your thoughts were slow, disjointed, as though your mind had been emptied and was slowly being pieced back together, you couldn't think of anything logical or of meaning.

But your body didn't ache and rattle like it had before. Devoid of the sting in your chest and weight of your limbs.

Only one thing remained—a dull, growing sting on your inner wrist.

As you came closer to reality, you could feel a presence beside you, a hand running through your hair, slow and deliberate. It felt so tender, you don't think you've felt such softness for some time. Between that and the sound of a fireplace crackling reaching your ears, you were almost soothed back asleep.

You clenched your hands into a fist and then relieved the pressure once again, slowly moved your toes and drew in a long breath before letting go of a sigh. All signs you are, in-fact, alive. You cracked your eyes open but you only saw blur and the minimal light is so hard on your eyes.

The hand running through your hair had stopped and now rested on the crown of your head. Then a sweet voice broke through the stillness of the room and traveled gently to your ear, almost a whisper "You're safe now, sweet girl. Don't strain, be slow" She encouraged.

You knew that voice "Lavinia?" you whispered twisting your head to the side to see for yourself if your assumption was right. "Yes, It's me. You're here with me" she said almost reassuring herself more than you. She sat beside the bed in a plain wooden chair, her face softening even more under your gaze, a hand still extended to rest on your head unable to part.

What you didn't know is the incomprehensible amount of relief she was experiencing- that her girl had woken up. There was the chance that she could still lose you, that a complication could have arouse.

As you slept, your body no longer needing to breathe, your skin pale and cold to the touch, Lavinia had begun to fear the worst. The night had felt endless, each hour creeping by as you lay there, motionless. No twitch of your fingers, no flutter of your eyelids.

"Where am I?" you questioned as you noticed more and more about this unfamiliar room as the blur coving your vision dissipated. The bed was a work of art in itself dark wood polished to shine -nothing like your flimsy wooden cot, the wallpaper a beautiful deep forest green with intricate patterns that extended all the way up the towering walls -your wallpaper was a cheap old and childish pattern.

The fireplace made from a beautiful stone with crackling logs, and candle holders that looked to be solid gold shone as they reflected the fire. The house is quiet, no one to be heard inside or out, only objects seemed to talk like the incredibly expensive-looking clock ticking away on the wall.

"This is my home, we're in your room" she added as specification but as calmly as she could, slow and trying to read your face "My room? This isn't my room" you stated matter-of-factly, your brows now sewn together in confusion.

"It will be a while until you can understand whats happening, but this is your home now" she tried again gently but regretted her approach once confusion was replaced with worry. You'd fully woken up now, dread beginning to bubble up in you. The memories of last night and trusting the strange man to cure you, that didn't help you solve what was happening currently though, it only deepened the confused creases on your brow.

You pushed up off the pillows causing Lavinia to draw back her hand, you sat up and shuffled back to get some distance- some breathing room "I know you're scared," she murmured softly, though she could feel her own unease building. "It’s confusing, but you’re safer here now. I can’t send you home… you’d be in danger." It's been a while since Lavinia had to deal with this sort of thing with something as fragile as you and the untouched human mind, and she was struggling to explain without making you even more frantic.

She only really spoke the straight truth (usually an appreciated trait amongst the family, but the truth could be hard and scary for a young being), and while she tried to do so gently with you, there is no easy way to do this. Her boys went through this exact experience, and she supposed it was inevitable.

“Danger?” Your voice was firmer now, as you sat up, your gaze unwavering. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand any of this… it’s my choice to go home if I want, isn’t it? Why am I even here?”

Lavinia took a deep breath, steadying herself before speaking again, her hands folding calmly in her lap. “If it were safe, I would let you go back to your family,” she lied, There no way you're leaving her sight again. She held your gaze with a tempered but resolute calm expression “But things have changed in ways that even I couldn’t undo. And, to let you go back home -amongst humans. I'd be putting you in terrible danger, as you are not one of them anymore.”

your face went from one of fear and confusion to a deadpan stare "Not human?" you whispered in disbelief, not that you supposedly weren't human but the audacity of Lavinia thinking she'd gone mad. "Just tell me what's going on" you demanded with twisting dread and emotion once again taking control of you

The words sat heavy between you both, and you felt your stomach twist. Her expression softened as she continued, “You’re here because… last night, Soren and I did what we thought was necessary to save you. You’re no longer ill, but neither are you… quite the same as you were.” Soren? the man that came to you in the night promising you an escape to cheat death? he was apart of this too?

She sucked in a breath and sighed watching your steady stare, waiting for a clear explanation, there was no getting around this.

Lavinia reached for one of your hands, ignoring you trying to pull it back out of her grasp. She sat closer- on the edge of the bed and placed your fingers against her neck "What do you feel?" she questioned.

You've never been more confused "Just tell me what's happening" you demanded again she shook her head "I'm trying to. Tell me what you feel" she managed to keep her composed tone this whole time despite dreadfully waiting for your moment of realisation.

You tried to focus, what answer did she want? you sat there for a minute contemplating, you were feeling nothing? "Nothing, right?" Lavinia answered for you. You shrugged still not understanding.

"...not even a pulse?" she questioned watching you expectantly. "What" you questioned "Vampires don't have pulses little one" You're face dropped at the mention of such a monster.

The words sank in slowly, your hand still pressed against her neck as if you’d feel it any moment—a heartbeat, a sign of life—but there was nothing. The emptiness under your fingertips sent a chill through you.

Your voice wavered. “Vampire?”

Lavinia nodded, her expression a blend of sadness and conviction. “Yes. You’re here because Soren and I chose to save you… this way. It was the only way to stop the sickness from taking you. Making you a Vampire.”

You pulled your hand back, the realisation of what she had been implying crashing over you. Your hand raised to your own neck this time, you have to have a pulse. Vampires aren't real, everyone has told you to stop fearing those stupid stories. you couldn't feel anything, no beat.

"This makes no se-" you trailed off shaking your head. you threw off the blankets the still clung to your lower half and slid off the bed.

Your feet hit the cold floor, grounding you just enough to cling to one last shred of disbelief. This was a nightmare; it had to be. You ignored the weakness still lingering in your legs, gripping the bedpost for stability, but even that felt unfamiliar—the world too sharp, the air somehow thicker. You couldn’t let her words settle in, couldn’t even entertain the idea of what she was telling you.

“I’m going home,” you insisted, trying to steady yourself, your voice laced with desperation. “You’re crazy! You and that man—this whole place!”

Lavinia’s expression didn’t change; she just sat calmly, watching you, as if she'd expected this exact response. "I understand," she said gently, with the patience of someone who’d seen this scene unfold countless times before. "But where would you go, love? Do you even know where you are?” she tried to reason with you.

"I don't care- anywhere but here!" you attempted to push the door open but got stopped by Lavinia's hand around your wrist. She tried to continue to reason with logic, but you didn't let her before pulling your hand away and stumbling back. She let go, afraid of hurting you.

You ran through the door, ignoring Lavinia calling for you from behind. A large figure stood menacingly in the hallway seemingly ready to stop you, his eyes seemed to glow in the darkness of the hall and you're sure you saw long shiny fangs when he playfully smiled at you as you halted just in front of him. His dark hair stark against his pale skin, you began to believe the monster, vampires, existed and you had to get away.

He reached for you as you slipped past him and ran down the hall, but he stopped himself when Lavinia scolded him "Leave her be Dorian. Let us handle her for now" You then heard the fast steps of her heels close behind you once again.

You continued through the grand house, finding the staircase and rushing down it. You were in such a rush and focused on getting to the front door that was so close to your reach you hadn't realised that Lavinia's footfalls had stopped at the stairs and others had snuck up behind you.

Hands grasped your shoulders and ripped you away from the door, before pulling you to turn around and look at him. The man that had started this all, hed stolen you away in the night, he had done all this.

"Get away from me you monster!" your hands beat against his chest as your legs worked to try and pull yourself free and away from him "What have you done to me?!" you continued to struggle.

Your cries echoed through the silent hall, but Soren’s expression remained unmoved. He watched your struggles with a deep, quiet disdain, as if you were no more than a child throwing a tantrum. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and chilling, edged with absolute authority.

“Enough.”

The single word stopped you cold, not just because of the harshness, but because of the power it held. You felt yourself shrink under his unwavering stare, a dark glint in his eye as he watched you wilt.

“This outburst,” he continued, his voice as sharp as a blade, “will not be tolerated. Do you understand me?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, his hands clamping tighter, nearly bruising as he spoke. “You are not a prisoner here, but neither are you a fool. This is your reality now; no other place will take you as you are now. And while you are under my roof you will learn to control yourself, or suffer the consequences of your childish defiance.”

At that, Lavinia descended the stairs, her face laced with worry as she approached carefully. Her hand lifted to touch Soren’s arm, a soft pressure as if to keep him from hardening further. “Soren,” she began, voice low and calm, “she’s just frightened… please, be gentle. She’s overwhelmed and acting out of panic.” Her eyes searched his face, an unspoken plea for restraint and mercy.

Soren’s gaze flicked to Lavinia, his jaw clenching. For a brief moment, the irritation in his eyes softened. But the stern lines of his face quickly returned as he looked back at you. With a slow exhale, he released his hold abruptly, the action so sudden that you stumbled backward, just managing to catch your balance. Instinctively, you retreated behind Lavinia, clutching the back of her dress and peeking around her to keep your eyes locked on Soren, wary of his every move.

He took a measured breath, his eyes studying you with a detached, calculating expression. “Take her upstairs,” he said to Lavinia in a voice that brooked no refusal. “She has exerted herself enough already. She’ll go back to her room and sleep—without any further dramatics. Yes?” His eyes bore into you with a steady command that made you feel rooted in place.

Words failed you under his harsh gaze, and you could only nod. The strength in his tone left no room for argument; all your earlier fight dissolved into a shaky obedience. You felt Lavinia’s warm hand on your back, gently guiding you to turn toward the stairs.

“Come now,” she whispered, her tone gentle and soothing. Her arm slipped around your shoulders, shielding you as much as guiding you, her warmth and closeness a sharp contrast to the cold, stony presence that lingered behind.

As she led you up the stairs, Soren’s gaze remained fixed on you both, his expression unreadable yet intense. You didn’t dare look back at him, even as the distance grew and you ascended away from his intimidating presence. You could still feel his eyes on you like a brand, marking this moment as the first time you’d dared to defy him—and the last time you might try.

In the quiet of the upstairs hallway, Lavinia paused, her hand resting lightly on your arm. “I know this is confusing, and I know you’re frightened,” she murmured, her gaze soft as she looked down at you. “But it’s important now that you trust me and let us help you. You don’t have to be afraid.”

You bit your lip, still shaken, the lingering memory of Soren’s grip on your arms reminding you of the intensity and strictness of this new life. Yet in Lavinia’s gentle, steady gaze, there was a promise of safety—a warmth that almost made you believe her.

She gave a small smile, almost apologetic. “Come, let’s go back to your room. I’ll stay with you as long as you like.” With a final reassuring glance, she led you down the hall, her hand warm and steady on your shoulder, guiding you into the unknown with patience and care.

Lavinia helped you back into the bed and lay multiple soft and weighted blankets over you, the pressure comforting. your head sunk into the pillows as your body weakened from the lack of adrenaline.

The room, quiet as Lavinia tucked the blankets tightly around you and pulled the chair back to the bedside that she must have pushed away when trying to keep up with you earlier.

"There has to be a way I can return home for a while. say goodbye," you spoke in a hushed, and defeated tone, you turned your head to look at Lavinia who now sat in the chair next to you, listening carefully.

"I wouldn't tell them, I'll keep our secret, I promise" You tried to convince her. She gave you a sad smile "You know I can't do that sweet girl" her hand returned to you head like it had been before, slowly and softly.

Your face crumpled as you swallowed back a sob, regret surfacing as you stared at the ceiling “If I was just left alone… if I just stayed home, I might’ve gotten better on my own... Maybe I didn’t need this… Maybe—maybe I wasn’t even that sick…”

Lavinia’s hands cupped your face, anchoring you. Her eyes searched yours with such gentle, unyielding honesty that you felt your resolve falter. “If you’d stayed where you were, my love… you wouldn’t have lived to see another day.”

The truth of her words washed over you, hitting you with the cold finality that left no more room to argue, no words left to bargain. You took in a ragged breath.

Lavinia bent down and took off her shoes, she stood to lay on top of the bed. She gently gathered you bundled in blankets into her arms and hushed you. A silent comfort, loyal to your side the whole night as you tried and failed to fight sleep.

Your old life had truly slipped away in a matter of hours, beyond all bargaining.

...

The days blurred together in a hazy, dim stillness. Lavinia was a constant, hardly ever straying far from your side. If she left, it was only for brief moments to bring you something.

Your body is quite sensitive and even began to ache at certain stimulants, Lavinia did her beast to ease you in any way she could think—warm cloths for your aches, a cup of tea laced with soothing herbs, or a soft book to occupy your mind as you healed.

Your orders were simple: remain in your room, rest, let the change complete itself without resistance. The windows were draped in thick, dark curtains, shielding you from even the gentlest daylight that now pricked painfully at your eyes.

Your ears were particularly sensitive, too, they seemed to ring for hours after your escape attempt. Luckily the house was quiet, and any small sound you did pick up was gentle and low: the soft whisper and footsteps in the halls, a faint clinking of silver in a nearby room, and, on rare occasions, music—a piano drifting down the hall or the gentle hum of strings.

But recently, you'd been allowed to roam the house, and Lavinia had noticed discomfort begin to settle and boredom rise in you. So it's become a bit of a habit to follow her on trips to the kitchen or library like her little shadow.

And on this particular day Lavinia had to go into town to pick up a few things for you, to sooth the ache of your shifting teeth that recently made it hard to even talk.

So instead you were greeted by Soren as evening fell. A gentle knock to the door was enough to stir you awake. Lavinia wasn't by your side and she never knocked, you were tucked in tightly and the smell of a fabric pocket of lavender placed on your pillow that Lavinia insisted would help you sleep.

You sat up a bit "Hello?" you called out to whoever stood on the other-side of the door. The handle turned and the door opened just enough for Soren to slip in, careful to not let too much light and stun you when you'd just woken.

"Lavinia will be away for a few hours, she needed to pick up some things from town but didnt have the heart to wake you to tell you." Soren explained as he walked over to your bedside table and pulled out a palm sized box from his pocket.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his tone flat but gentler than usual. You nodded, too busy watching as he took out a matchstick and struck it against the box. You rarely saw such a thing—matchsticks were expensive, and you were used to flint and steel. The smell of sulfur tickled your nose, and you grimaced as he lit the candle on your table, the soft glow now illuminating the room.

“Well?” He straightened and looked at you expectantly. You realized he wanted a verbal answer.

“I’m… okay," you replied, though your voice was uncertain. "Everything is just alot... its alot" you tried to explain but just sighed when you couldn't find the words to describe the physical and emotional overstimulation.

Soren nodded, a hint of understanding in his gaze. “I understand,” he said quietly. “Though it was long ago, I still remember how it felt.” He paused, glancing at the faint candlelight. “It will become your new normal soon enough.”

He turned to leave, adding as he reached the door, “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” Then, without another word, he slipped out, leaving you alone in the flickering glow.

...

It was that afternoon when you longed to get out of your room, youd left your bed and slipped on your house shoes that Lavinia had placed beside your bed for your nightly wanders. You'd gotten the impression they don't walk around bearfooted, far too sophisticated for that.

You rummaged curiously through the draws, and explored the room a bit closer now. Its fully furnished and some draws had items in them already. Lavinia used this room for any overspill she couldn't fit in her jewellery boxes or hang on the walls. So you came across alot of seemingly collectable things for the finer side of living.

The room itself felt like a small museum of elegant oddities, carefully curated items from a lifestyle you’d only read about. There were small touches of whimsy—a lace fan with fine embroidery, a silver compact mirror with a scene painted on the lid. As nice as it is, it just isn't your room, and you owned nothing in it. Feeling a displaced after rummaging through the room you decided to step out into the hall.

You wandered with careful steps, your fingers drug against the polished banister, eyes explored the pattern of the carpet below you and the intricate door nobs you passed. You found yourself looking out a window in a rather grand drawing room.

The garden is just as grand and beautiful, the hedges and flowers could be considered an art within themselves. The fountains flowing water into a pond could have belonged to a palace for all you know.

A voice broke the quiet behind you, sharp and cutting:

“You shouldn’t linger where you aren’t wanted,” Lucien’s low tone curled through the room, each word edged with contempt. You turned quickly, catching his cold gaze on you. Lavinia had told you about him but she didn't mention how mean he could be, 'anti-social' was the word she used. He sat poised in a grand leather chair in the corner, nearly hidden in shadow, a book open in his hands. You must have missed him when you’d first entered, his stillness as exacting as his words.

“Oh, I… I didn’t realise you were here. Sorry,” you said, your apology almost automatic. Lucien had the same icy air as his father—unpredictable and sharp-edged. And without Lavinia nearby, that feeling only intensified, leaving you feeling exposed.

He didn’t respond immediately, only closed his book with a measured snap that seemed almost a reprimand. He remained seated, but every detail of his posture suggested he was looking down on you all the same.

"You're more trouble than you're worth, some sickly poor kid off the street roaming our halls and using our stuff. How could you possibly benefit us, hm?" He challenged you.

Attempting to avoid confrontation you decided to slip away back to your room, but as your eyes looked towards your escape someone is already there blocking your way.

“No.” Soren’s interruption was swift, his tone final. “You are only disrespecting my wishes,” he continued, his gaze hardening. “This household is built on loyalty and trust. She is part of this family now. My decision isn’t up for debate.”

Lucien’s mouth opened as if to argue, but his words faltered under his father’s stare. He understood well enough: Soren’s decisions, once made, are law within these walls.

“She’s here because I believe it’s best for us—and for your mother,” Soren said, his voice carrying an undeniable weight. “I have accepted her as a daughter, and you will accept her as a sister. I don’t recall you making such a fuss when Dorian arrived.” His eyes narrowed, daring Lucien to continue his defiance.

"That was different, and you know it,” Lucien shot back, his voice low but brimming with frustration. “She’s… she’s just some random girl, a stranger who's disrupting the order here, making a ruckus.”

Soren’s gaze turned cold and cutting. “A stranger? She’s no more a stranger than you were once—and no less than I was, to my own maker. I suggest you remember that.”

Lucien’s jaw clenched, his retort dying on his lips. He could feel the finality in Soren’s tone, a hard line drawn that he knew better than to cross. After a long, silent moment, his shoulders slumped, and he rose to leave, giving Soren a single lingering look before turning toward the door.

As Lucien reached the doorway, Soren delivered his final words. “And I remember you making much more of a ruckus in those early days than she has. Perhaps a bit of empathy would do you good, Lucien.”

Lucien stiffened at the remark, his pride pricked, but he didn’t respond. With a barely-contained scowl, he left the room, the weight of Soren’s words hanging heavily in the air.

Lucien walked down the hall, a muffled laugh echoed from around the corner. Dorian was waiting, clearly having overheard the tail end of the exchange, and couldn’t resist the opportunity to needle his brother.

“Oh, shut it, Dorian.” Lucien snapped, his voice low and venomous as he stormed past, not even sparing his younger sibling a glance. The laughter trailed off down the hall, Dorian probably following his brother to poke more fun at him.

The room felt charged with the memory of his glare and the prickling intensity of the words exchanged. Soren remained silent for a moment, his gaze softening as he turned back to you. He moved with a certain gentleness that seemed unusual for him, crossing the room to stand beside you.

“I apologise for his behaviour,” Soren said quietly, his tone low but steady. “Lucien… he can be difficult. Change has never been easy for him.”

“You’re doing better than we’d expected,” he continued, his voice as steady as ever but touched with something warmer, he glanced away almost like it pained him “Just keep it up.” he gave your back a gentle but curt pat.

"Should he bother you again, you're to come straight to me. I will not tolerate such childishness." he demanded before leaving. A promise of protection.

His sons were carefully picked to continue his legacy. But you aren't here for that, you aren't his protégé, not someone he’s training. More of an indulgence for the family, a calmness and gentleness. He already is letting himself slip into a gentleness that only Lavina sees occasionally.

...

Lavinia returned and you hadn't told her about Lucien's insults just that you had bumped into him briefly, trying to save the family from any more drama that night.

"I've found some herbs that can numb that nasty toothache" Lavinia came into your room with a cup of steaming herbal tea. She gently gave it to you, her hands cradling yours for a moment to make sure you had a steady hold on the cup.

"Thank you" you couldn't wait to get rid of the constant ache in your jaw you quickly began sipping.

"I'm going down for dinner, I'll come and check on you later" her hand smoothing your hair and only leaving when you gave a nod of understanding.

You hated to imagine what she meant by dinner. If the stories are true, they are drinking people dry.

You'd begun to feel that familiar feeling of hunger yesterday, you hadn't eaten since that night you were changed which was days ago- but only now you've started to feel its effects. And have been dreading to ask about it.

The hunger grew slowly though, and it wasn't bad at the moment. You tried not to think about it.

...

You long finished your tea and the discomfort in your gums had settled. By candlelight you doodled in the leatherbound drawing book Lavinia had found for you, using pencils that Lavinia had carefully sharpened.

Until you heard your door creak open, you looked up expecting Lavinia to return. Instead the second son, Dorian, stepped inside and quietly stepped inside.

"Hi" He grinned stepping further into the room "Hello?" you responded in more of a question.

He chuckled softly at the apprehension in your voice "Don't worry, I'm not as crude as my brother. I don't intend to interrogate you" With that, he settled comfortably in Lavinia’s chair beside your bed.

"What are you drawing?" He asks casually, leaning in his elbows resting on his knees, trying to bridge the gap with some small talk. "Nothing interesting, just sketches... shouldn't you be at dinner?" you murmured, still guarded.

“Technically, yes" he admitted with a laugh, "but dinners finished, and they are having some boring conversations. And I thought I’d formally introduce myself.” His smile was warm "I'm Dorian, by the way. No longer the baby of the family, thanks to you," he added, a glint of humour in his eyes.

You relaxed just a little, feeling the genuine friendliness in his tone. There was a warmth about him, a sharp contrast to Lucien's harshness.

“Lucky me,” you replied dryly, but a small smile crept in.

Dorian noticed you at ease and leaned back, folding his arms in pride "You know, it took me a while to get used to this place too. It can be... intimidating. But you are doing great okay?"

The kindness in his voice, and his way of words is very much like Lavinia helped ease some tension from your shoulders.

“It’s… different,” you admitted, looking away, “but I guess I don’t have much choice now.”

Dorian nodded, understanding. “No, but that’s the thing about this family. Once you’re in, you’re in for good. Besides-” he added with a wink, “I could use an ally. Lucien can be... a handful and fathers a bit of a grump”

You laughed -more genuinely this time, as he grinned back at you.

Dorian fussed over you a bit, recounting his aches and discomforts from his turning and asking if you were okay. You assured him that Lavinia had been taking good care of you.

Curiosity got the best of you while talking about tooth pain "The fangs... Its like in the stories right?" You couldn't get to the point hoping he'd understand where you are coming from.

His face fell a bit, you think its the first time seeing him not smile "You're asking about blood, right?" he clarified. You nodded hesitantly "...Do I have to drink it? Do you kill people?" in a hushed wisper

“Yes, it’s like in the stories,” he began, voice low and gentle. “The fangs, the… need for blood. But it’s not as simple or as brutal as you might think. We don’t hurt anyone innocent.” He paused, giving you a reassuring glance. “But we do still need it, and some people are victims of that"

he chose his words carefully, watching your face for any signs of being overwhelmed "But never the innocent, we pick the ones who deserve less mercy." He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, the warmth grounding you "And yes -You will have to drink soon, but from cups for a while, you won't have to be a part of that process right away- or ever if that's how you choose to do it. I'll do all the messy work for you if you want"

Having Dorian’s explanation helped more than you’d expected. With the worst of your fears quieted, though still dreading the inevitable, you managed a small “Okay,” as much for yourself as for him.

Dorian’s eyes softened with understanding. “We’ll help you through it,” he promised, his hand squeezing yours a few more times, gentle and reassuring. “Try not to dwell on it too much. It’s just one step at a time.”

“Five hundred?!” you repeated, incredulous. He chuckled, brushing it off. “Oh, that’s a conversation for another time. I think you’ve had your fill of life-changing revelations today” he teased. “But on the bright side, I’ll never run out of stories for you—five centuries of bedtime tales at your disposal.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you shifted your sketchbook to sit between you, handing him a pencil. “Alright, another time then” you agreed, the tension in your chest easing. Side by side, you both began to draw, with him casting sidelong glances to mimic your strokes.

Growing up, your older brothers were always too busy to pay you much attention. But sitting here now, Dorian’s easy company made you wonder if he might just be the big brother you’d always wanted. You just hoped Lucian is a fraction as good at being a brother as Dorian is.

[windvexer]

In your opinion, if a spell calls for a candle to be burnt entirely, does this mean "actually all burnt down until it goes out by itself" or is leaving enough to get it more easily out of the holder acceptable?

I do not think it is necessary to burn a candle until it goes out by itself.

After all, for many candles, there is going to be some wax left over no matter what. A cheap or badly maintained candle may become ruined with a great deal of wax still left over.

I would likely err on the side of convenience and make it easier for myself to remove leftover wax from the holder. I doubt the efficacy of any spell would come down to a few grams of unspent wax anyway.

[laufreyjarson]

i use this candle holder for offerings dedicated to freyja!

i'll either burn a votive candle in it or put tea in it (i clean it out between uses). it's the avon 1980 indiana glass sleeping cat candle holder; i thrifted mine, but it's pretty cheap online too.

i just wanted to post because i think it's so cute!! freyja likes it as well!

[anne-the-witch-ish]

Where to find witchcraft materials in Brazil

(without being SCAMED)

When i started learning about witchcraft, one of the first problems i run into was acess to materials. I knew their names, what they should look like, but had no clue where to go to buy. The first time i entered a Esoteric store i was blown away for two reasons:one, everything was beautifull; two, everything was expansive.

Online, most the resources i find are in english and for EUA and Europe. So I've decided to make this post listing some palces in brazil, where we brazilian witches can find tools and materials for our craft.

*All images are from google as an exemple of how these places might look like, but their apparece can change from state-to-state.

Casas de religião (Religious houses)

These places sell iteams used in Quimbanda and Ubanda practices, but not only that. You see: candles, incense and herbs can also be found there. As well as incense holders, statues and more. Of course we aren't going to pick up things from closed practices, we know that much! But we there is a lot in the casas de religião that we can use.

Mercadão

The mercadão usually exists in big cities (like são paulo e porto alegre), and i love it. Is where i bought most of my stuff, like candles, herbs, and the pilão(an wood tool used to smash and grind herbs). The nice thing in the Mercadão is that there are multiple stores within it, like a mall but cheaper. So inside we can find a couple casas de religião, general nature stores, etc. If you are also looking for fruits, vegetables and fresh fish, this is your spot!

Feira (fair)

The feira usually happens once a week, in a set spot, and they sell local grown fruits and vegetables. Besides selling the best pastel you will ever eat, you might just be lucky enough to find some herbs that you can use in your craft.

But there are also the "fairas para turistas", which are a bit more tricky. In there you can find a bunch of different things: antique items, old books, and crystals. The thing is that because these places are more for tourists, they tend to be more expensive.

Loja de tudo 10 ("Everything is 10 bucks" store, would be our dolla tree or equivalent)

Once called loja de 1,99, these stores ware the og shain and amazon for brazilians. We know the stuff there is bad quality, but it is soo cheap too! In there you gotta focus on finding tools (scissors, knifes, plates), offering bowls, and incense! All my incense are from these stores, they have some very unique smells, but i like it.

O Supermercado (The supermarket)

If it all fails, go to your local supermarket in brazil. It will sell some white candels and comun herbs too. We have the small local markets, and also the big supermarket chains. Usually, the local small supermarkets sell the same thing from the big chains, but cheaper.

EXTRAS:

Sebos

Do you want to find some witchcraft books, but don't want to give money to bezos? Then try the Sebos, second hand bookstores that might have what you want. The thing is that they are much like gambling, so it depends a lot on luck. However, even if you don't find what you are lookign for, i bet you will find some other cool book to take home with you

Floriculturas

The flower shops sell, well flowers (and valantine's day gifts,too), but not only. Its there where you will find some herbs to plant in your garden, if you want to keep one! You can also find the alive herb to buy in the casas de religião e nos mercadões.

[godesssiri]

Champaign Tastes on a Bottled Water Budget (because let’s face it, even beer isn’t cheap anymore) Thrift Tips

People are over living in white boxes. We now want richness and texture and colors and interest. Traditional design styles with lots of molding and detail and antiques are very in. People are making a living selling antiques online. Décor bloggers aspire to being able to bring back a container from European flea markets. People want to make their homes look like you have generational wealth.  But how do you have a home full of beautiful old things when you’ve got no money? Thrifting.

1. Always always check the art. Remember if you love the art but hate the frame you can always put it in a new frame, or makeover the current one. And vice versa, if you love the frame but hate what’s in it then it’s the simplest thing in the world to swap it out for something else, another piece of thrifted art, a print from Etsy or one of the many other places artists sell digital copies of their work, a color photocopy from a library book. And frames are very easy to make over, sometimes just changing the matting or painting a frame a different color or adding a little rub n buff makes a world of difference.

2. Rub n Buff or similar waxes are your friend for getting a gorgeous, antiqued look. The thrift stores are full of pieces that have great shape but they’re too modern looking for what you’re trying to achieve. But rub gold on the high points or a dark wax into the crevasses and suddenly they look completely different. I’ve got a ceramic parrot that looked very 80s when I got my hands on it but when I covered it with gold (leaving the original dark colors in the crevasses) he immediately looked like an antique. Just spray-painting something gold doesn’t have the same effect, using a wax creates depth.

3. Darken it up. Most old things are darker than new things. Darker furniture, fabrics, accessories, add depth and richness. If something is already dark, then when you thrift it then great. If it’s not then that’s what dye, paint, and stain are for.

4. Old souvenir pieces. I’ve got a load of old pieces that people have bought back from Greece and Rome, from Egypt, from China. They make my home look like it belongs to someone who has been on a Grand Tour. A lot of them are copies of ancient pieces which means they look timeless. They’re cheap tchotchkes that people have bought at gift shops but mix them in with old books and candle holders and natural pieces like chunks or crystal or large seashells, and they look classy and interesting.

5. Old books. Do you have any idea how many old books get thrown out by thrift stores? Like genuine antiques that get sent to landfill? Most thrift stores don’t want to deal with old books because they smell and harbor dust mites and are out of date and often look tatty. You may even be able to get a bunch for free if you sweet talk the volunteers. If you’re worried about dust mites, then pop them in the freezer for a few days. I know there are those who look down on people who use books just as décor, but if you using it as décor saves it from a landfill or a junk journaler and preserves it for a future generation then isn’t that a good thing?

6. Glass display items. Putting things behind glass makes them look lux and precious even if it’s some cheap trinket or even a bunch of dried leaves or other completely free natural items. Look for domes, plain clear vases you can turn upside down and glue a knob on top, display boxes holding ugly stuff that you can rip the ugly stuff out and re-purpose.

7. Antique reproductions. There’s been many points in history since humans started to mass manufacture stuff, that we have looked to the past a re-created what our forbears made by hand. There’s so much that ends up in thrift stores that looks old even if it’s no more than a few decades old. Cleverly mixing this stuff in to your décor can help you achieve the look of a home furnished with antiques at a fraction of the price.

8. Search ‘Old’ ‘Antique’ and ‘Vintage’ on FB Marketplace. Don’t get more specific than that, just literally type those terms into the search bar, set a distance you’re willing to travel, and scroll. People are always selling stuff that they don’t quite know what the heck it is, but they know it’s old. Yeah you’re gonna see a lot of trash but it’s worth it to find the treasures.

9. Candle holders and candles. I’m actually pretty meh about candles, I get why other people like them but scented candles mess with my allergies and I don’t get any joy out of candlelight – but if you feel the opposite to me, I do understand and encourage that. Candles are wonderful décor objects if you’re going to light them or not. Always check the section where your thrift store keeps candles, there’s often some really good ones. And candle holders come in so many different forms that you will always find beautiful and interesting ones. A figural brass candle holder will make my heart go pitty-pat. You don’t just have to use them for candles either, I have a gorgeously detailed pewter candle holder that I use as a display stand for a large mother-of-pearl shell, and my pair of huge Victorian cherubs currently have clear quartz crystals sticking out of them.

10. Actual antiques. I have hundreds of antiques big and small. I just tried to remember how many of them had been bought at actual antique stores and I think the total is 5. Real genuine antiques turn up in thrift stores All The Time. Sometimes the thrift store realizes what they’ve got and will price it up, more than you’d usually pay at the thrift but still way less than it’s really worth. Sometimes they don’t know/don’t care, they just want to turn over stock so they price it at whatever will get it out the door. You CAN furnish your home with antiques entirely from thrift stores. It just takes time and patience.

[oneforthemunny]

Always wanted to ask, how does each Eddie's house/apartment look like; where do you envision each of them living?

dom!eddie i picture living in a trailer sorta similar to wayne's. less stuff if that makes sense, since he hasn't lived there as long??? very boy decorated. mismatch, hand-me-down furniture. he tries to make it homey and tapes pictures of you and him on the wall lol. no frame, just packing tape and it's sweet and a little funny. quilts on the bed he got from wayne, posters in his room- maybe the living room. not a throw pillow in sight until you move in lol. probably like one plate, one fork, one spoon, one knife type vibe lol. very boy coded.

janitor!eddie i picture the same vibe as before (i'll call dom!eddie the default) until he moves in with you. i think it would be a small home. two bedrooms (technically three if you count the small 'office' space that you turned into a room). no garage, but he built a covering for you. it's very homey. he built shelves in the living room for all your books (i fuckin' lost the book blurb if anyone has it lol). lots of pictures on the wall, over the mantle. really just a very homey cozy vibe, and i'll leave how that looks up to you :)

older!eddie also has a house. it's not huge by any means, bigger than average. like a one story, three or four bedroom, two and a half bath kinda vibe. he got it after the divorce and he could afford it. he wanted brielle to have her own space and have some extra room for the hopeful future, and he's glad he did. probably very bare minimum as well before you moved in. like a nicer couch- no throw pillows, maybe one throw brielle bought at target, like one of those cheap ones from the $5 section lol. pictures of brielle in frames, but that's the only decor. not even a doormat. two flat ass pillows on the bed, but in nice sheets. a toothbrush holder, hand soap, and no towel on the bathroom. has a music room with his guitar and stuff, garage full of tools to do oil changes and stuff if he needs to. one half broken plastic laundry basket, and candles brielle brings home from bath and body works lol. please tell me you're getting the vibe lol.

mafia!eddie is a 180 entirely. ENTIRELY. mansion. he built it so it's new, but he wanted it to look gothic and ominous as fuck. like very unapproachable. dark exterior, steel gates at the front of the property. he bought land out in the middle of the woods in hawkins, off the beaten path for sure so you wouldn't see the entrance unless you were looking for it type? lots of dark red oriental carpets, red sheets, mahogany wood, chandeliers that are kinda dramatic and dark. all the furniture looks victorian but dark. i think it's mentioned in curiosity killed the cat that he was going for a vibe that was "a mix between dracula and the godfather" lol. large book shelves, candle opera lighting, dark grand stair well, bear skin rug (with the head bc he thought it looked sick). large, tall windows but all the glass is one way glass so it looks even freakier from the outside. very gothic victorian chic.

rockstar!eddie ok so pre-kids- he had a home in malibu, a penthouse in la. owns a couple different properties bc why not. he hired someone to decorate, but really it's like he put weird shit in there lol. like very rockstar- bachelor pad coded. like there's a fifty thousand dollar imported couch... next to light sabers on the wall that he won at a bidding bc they were used in a movie. bedroom is very... interesting lol. def has a waterbed in at least one room. has a bed post with clips for his... activities lol. probably a hook for a sex swing too. then a whole music memorabilia type room. plaques, his achievements, but also things he's collected.

tamed rockstar!eddie with kids- he lets nb decorate mainly but he also adds a few things. he designs the sex dungeon and it does in fact look like a dungeon. dramatic ass lighting, literal chain cuffs on the wall, a bed that with thick posts, mirror on the ceiling, a whole wall of toys. it's so him, like his mind. then he also has a studio in his basement. really, it started bc when he started having kids, he didn't want to leave his house. didn't want to drive into the city to record, so had one put there bc why not? he's got the $$ lol. he also gets the flowers pressed from their three weddings, the baby showers, any really big achievement- he'll get a bouquet made and pressed and preserved. nb always hangs them and decorates with them, and it makes him so proud lol.

bouncer!eddie lives in an apartment. it's very sketch, very cheap. like one bedroom, one bath, tiny ass kitchen and little living room. he literally just lives there. no personal touches beside a tv, a boombox. mattress on the ground, card table and folding chairs, leftover box as a nightstand, towel as a bath mat. he mainly stays at your place so he's not too worried about it, but the first time you come in, you're a little horrified.

cowboy!eddie- i know this is going to sound cliche but if you've ever seen the ranch on netflix lol. that's what i picture. like that wooden, ranch style house. a little older, i think it's been renovated since it was built like forever ago. small screened in porch, wooden dutch doors. a sun room in the back of the house with some house plants. an older couch and recliner, a wooden heater stove in the living room- it was apart of the original design of the house so he kept it, even with the ac/heating unit. patterned quilts on the bed, old school floral sheets that came with the house lol. really, he didn't do much to it besides add a few of his things when he moved in, because it was his grandparent's home before his.

modern!eddie had an apartment close to the park for a very small time. roomed with gareth, and then once he started staying with you, he didn't stay there anymore. probably didn't have a bed, but a futon they put in one of the rooms and had all their gaming stuff in it. he's victim of the striped, blue comforter that's faded as hell. has a rick and morty poster he put on the wall with thumb tacks. tv on the ground with his gaming stuff, wires everywhere. a closet that has shit spilling out of it. very messy lol.

[cupids-baby]

Aphrodite Altar inspo

Red roses (you can dry these by hanging them upside down so that they last longer)

Incense in a cute holder, I like rose or spiced apple but there's tons to choose from! Choose intuitively 💕

Love letters! Ones you've written for Aphrodite or ones you've received, I'm sure she'd love to read them with you ✨️

Shells/shell candles🐚 these are fairly cheap and easy to make but if you aren't feeling crafty use your shells as trinket dishes ✨️

Wine bottle candles 🍷 wedge a tapered candle into a pretty wine bottle (after you've drank it), I like Rosè. If you dont drink I've seen really cute pink lemonade bottles with a similar look. Use red, pink or blue candles for maximum effect.

Rose Quarts and Pearl, whether its jewellery or tumbles she'll love them.

Swan trinkets, I see these all of the time in charity stores/thrift shops.

An image of Aphrodite, whether it's a statue, a print out, or a painting you've done yourself.

[maniakminis]

Thrift Store Hobby Haul

I went thrifting over the weekend looking for stuff I could use for wargaming terrain. Found a bunch of very promising stuff in the ceramics sections!

This run down Christmas Village house is perfect for some fantasy games and especially modern/WW2 games. I'll need to fix up the paintjob a bit but should be good for the table relatively quickly.

A small Fishing Shack and a pair of Salt and Pepper Shaker Outhouses (???) The fishing shack I'll use for my Mordheim Board and the outhouses I'll probably use for Turnip28.

Speaking of Turnip, check out these Thanksgiving candle holders I found.

These just need smoke or fire coming from the top and they'd be perfect for the Tall Man, or just neat terrain pieces on their own. I think some people have problems with using non root vegetables for Turnip28 but hear me out... there is so much cheap Halloween and Thanksgiving decorations out there! It's really easy to turn into terrain so I'm gonna keep doing it!

Last in my terrain haul, here are a few more Gnome Homes and one Easter Rabbit Home that again will be for playing Turnip28. Though these could probably work for any Fantasy game.

I love this giant carrot house and the weird dog rabbits. I'm going to do my best to remove the rabbits but keep them in one piece because they're weird and cute.

So yeah, expect some more weird terrain projects in the future and if you're looking for cheap terrain options for your fantasy wargames, check out the ceramics/holiday sections. Most of that stuff is close to Heroic Scale for some reason and only a few dollars at your local thrift stores.

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

My sister doesn’t like, really celebrate Christmas but she does culturally if only for extended family so she usually gets presents and sometimes gives presents in December or so. And I’ve gotten her a few things in the past, last year something I hand embroidered for her. And this year recently she mentioned how she wanted a candle holder, right, like one for like simple unscented dipped candlesticks. and she did buy one of those like funky cheap minimalist colored glass ones she can put like a simple candlestick on. But I was considering maybe like idk going on Etsy or smth and buying her like, one of those fancy vintage chambersticks. She’s pretty minimalist in her decor but she also has really loved historical shows/movies and such so I feel like she may enjoy it, especially one with the basin or w/e to catch dripping wax. But I’m also like. Autistically terrible with knowing what people like so I’m worried to actually get her one bcuz what if she doesn’t like it??

[roaenexists]

FOOL BABY'S FIRST FIRE SAFETY LESSON

I accidentally set my altar on fire just now, which could've been catastrophic as my altar sits right before my biggest bookshelf. The cheap plastic candle holder I had caught fire and that caught on the palm cushion I use for my singing bowl. If it weren't for 1) the fire alarm in my apartment, and 2) the wax-sealed pentagram paper i kept under that candle, things might be a lot worse right now. I was even sitting right in front of altar, I was just looking down at my tarot cards. My response wasn't particularly good either: I blew that bitch out like a birthday cake—one strong huff. Very thankful it wasn't worse. Lessons learned: keep a fire blanket and an extinguisher near the bookshelf and altar; wax-sealed paper can buy you a couple of seconds of reaction time; $3 dollar target candle holders are a Bad Idea. Finally and most important: PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR FLAMES ALWAYS.

[yatiso]

going to the goodwill to get an ashtray on the cheap cuz i threw mine away when i quit and the candle holder ive been using broke

[darkestforestsoul]

things

my poetry notebook

my favorite coconut vanilla candle

tobacco

sage

howlite and amethyst

my favorite cheap perfume that smells amazing

bullet lipstick

my cards holder

and last my diary

[amaskofmanyshades-archive]

~The Descent Down Below~

(A/N - Hopefully, this attempt sticks. This is actually attempt number 2 of writing this original fic, and we can actually see this one to the end. This was actually based upon a concept i had when i was younger to give another OC an attempt at a relationship; i decided that, "Yes. But it will not be easy for her. She shall go through Hell and back to get it"--and thus this was birthed.

Fair warning to you as well, the following fic will be containing a LOT of themes unsuitable for the faint of heart, varying from violence of varying kinds to gore and much, much worse. Trigger warnings will be placed in the beginning after the Author's Note.)

-Really, Cel? A ouija board? We’re not kids anymore; why’d you pull this old thing out?-

“Humor me, Josie. It was one’a th’ first things i played, growing as a witch in trainin’...an’ one of the first magically inclined tools i really ever played with as a fledgling. A ouija board can be quite fun an’ thrillin’ IF ye know all th’ stops.”, Celeste responded, straightening the cloth atop the dining room table.

The Valentina residence’s dining room was lit by only the light of candles, giving way to an almost romantic, comforting ambience. While Celeste set up for the ritual, with Josephine burning off white sage and rosemary, Lucinda watched skeptically as all of this took place. It wasn’t necessarily the first time she’d ever taken part in a ouija board ritual. It wasn’t so much that she minded being there…but something about the entire act felt so…tasteless. Tasteless, yet also so simple and quite honestly, a bore. It felt like something a teenager would do at a sleepover out of boredom and for a quick, cheap thrill. Still, she wasn’t about to question it, since—as much as she hated to admit it—Celeste was definitely right about one thing: with the correct experience and technique, a ouija board could actually quite interesting. 

Bringing the glass of wine to her dark red lips, blue eyes watched carefully as the middle oldest of the three brought out the board she was talking about. Something about the damn thing shot chills down her spine, which...said quite a lot, but also, raised questions.

“You...played with this thing...? I hope you know NOW that this thing is no toy, Celeste. The board has been the subject to those who fiddle with becoming a demon’s plaything for centuries. It is why whole slumber parties end up dead by daylight.”

“Well, of course. It took...one good time o’ summoning somethin’ i shouldn’t have t’ fully grasp the concept. I wouldn’t be havin’ Jo burn all this sage an’ rosemary IF i didn’t know, Lucy. Have faith.”

The woman scoffed, “Here is where the misunderstanding lies, dear. I have plenty of faith in you; after all, had I not, I would have been the one to lead and not you. I just don’t think this is a safe idea. Even with all the precautions you’re taking...don’t you see that even with all this, there’s a chance that something could still go wrong?”

“Maybe so...but give it a chance. If something goes wrong...all of us are capable of protecting ourselves.”

With that, they placed the last incense in its holder and Josephine took her seat at the table, along with the other two. Celeste sat at the center, between Lucinda and Josephine, staring down at the swarthy mahogany board. Despite how glossy and well-kept it looked, it was ancient, having been in Celeste’s possession for centuries.

A stiletto-tipped hand rested gently on the planchette, and all three pairs of hands were sitting there with hers. All was silent, waiting for Celeste’s lead. With a clarifying breath, she then spoke the following phrase in Latin —

“Intrate hoc sanctum, omnes spiritus de ultra. Rogamus loqui tecum.”

(Enter this sanctum, all ye spirits from beyond. We ask to speak with you.)

With that, the room shuddered and grew darker, leaving only but the lone gentle light of the candles as a guide for them to see. It was then it felt as if they were being watched by eyes they could not see, although from what direction, none were sure of. Once she was certain of the surrounding atmosphere, Celeste spoke once more.

“...Is anyone here? Speak now, or leave us in the dark forever more.”

As if responding, a fourth pair of hands joined theirs. While Celeste didn’t flinch, Josephine hissed in surprise while Lucinda gasped, growling curses in a demonic tongue. Then, with a light force, it moved their hands over to its response.

>YES.<

They were no longer alone, and so Celeste’s gaze remained straight ahead, focused on the empty seat where the force seemed to stem from. “Might i know your name, strange one? We mean you no harm. We only wish to talk. Nothing more than such.”, she replied politely, a smile curling at deep terracotta red lips.

A pause before the entity gave its answer. >ICARUS.<

-Oh, like the kid in Greek mythos...probably died because of his own damn hubris. Seen it before. I mean…man is known for the primary trait that caused the fall of The Morningstar straight to Hell. What else is new?-

Lucinda shot a scathing glance. If her eyes could kill, Josephine would’ve been dead 10 times over. “Josie--! That was quite rude!”

-Luce, you an’ i both know humans are some arrogant bastards. You’re surprised at this because...?-

“Both of you, HUSH. Now...Icarus, was it? Beautiful name, by th’ way...may i, if it isn’t too much...may i…inquire of when it was that ye passed...?”

A few more moments passed by, and then, slowly…the phrase was spelled out in front of them.

>1896. DIED BY BOARD.<

Board...

Did he mean...a ouija board? It would’ve been made since the invention of the board was about 5, maybe even 6 years prior to the death of this poor man. Maybe he was trying to contact someone, and it went wrong? That was the only thing that Celeste could properly come up with that may have been the cause of death for the soul she was speaking to. It saddened her; just what made him consider using such a thing was a good idea?

...Should she even ask that?

“1896, hm...? And you say you died from the...board, was it? Do you mean...a ouija board, love? Can...can you be a bit more precise? How? I c’n think o’ quite a few ways one’s end might come wi’ ouija boards.”

>TRICKED. THEY LIED. POSSESSED.<

-GREAT! A demon-possessed man! Already off to a wonderful start, Cellie!-, Josephine sent sarcastically.

“Well...this is jus’ from what we’re able t’ get from th’ board. It’s like clipped textin’; y’ know how when an older person’s learnin’ t’ text an’ they can jus’ get a few words down at a time? ‘S like that for older spirits. I actually know a way t’ make speakin’ t’ Icarus easier...but ‘s a bit more complicated than some sage an’ incantation. This is where y’ gotta get a bit more...personal.”

With that, she reached from her left pocket a small athame: something she always used for when she needed blood for a ritual, should it call for it. And this night, it did...

“For this t’ work, i need th’ blood o’ the one who wants t’ see ‘im. Not much. Jus’ a pinch...there’s a reason they made this board of th’ material it’s made of. For purposes such as this...”, and with that explanation, Celeste stuck the tip of the blade into the tip of her right pointer finger and pressed until blood rushed from the small nick.

She then passed the blade to Josephine, who seemed more than eager to be doing something regarding the use of blood. She gladly took the knife and slid the blade across her own fingers to draw a fair bit of blood, before handing the somewhat dirty knife to Lucinda with a wide grin. Out of the two, Lucinda looked the slightest bit disturbed by the act. However, she didn’t want to be the only one to not be able to see the spirit they were speaking to, and so she followed.

Shakily, she took the knife and pressed the tip into her palm, letting the crimson red liquid trail down her fingers until it reached the very tips. There, she touched the board with the others, completing the circle of blood that pooled about the planchette glass. The piece glinted and emanated a soft light at first, and Celeste allowed her eyes to flutter shut as her entire body tingled. The feeling of static electricity filled the room, descending upon the other two who had resigned themselves to the act.

A drowsiness filled the both of them, until suddenly, there was a small lapse of consciousness.

Once it all came flooding back to them, it was then they could hear a voice. A man’s...it was soft-spoken and mild, but sweet and one neither woman expected to hear fill their ears. When Celeste’s eyes then opened again, she was greeted to the sight of a well-dressed man from what she assumed was the late Victorian era. With mousy brown hair and wide-open, unseeing white eyes that had the lightest tint of a powder blue, it was jarring to behold.

He definitely appeared the part of an undead ghost, with eyes that looked as if he’d seen things no man should have ever had to lay witness to, and a general look as if he’d not been sleeping well. He also looked fairly young, and if one had to guess, he appeared to be roughly younger than Celeste but also older than Josephine.

Something about this brought about the Mother Hen in both Celeste and Lucinda, but neither woman dared to show this. Instead, it manifested in sheer curiosity. Josephine only stared back, with only the opposite. Disinterest and even slight amusement in the other’s reactions...a smirk curled at the corner of her mouth.

He was cute, yes...but to her, ‘cute’ meant something she could tease with ease.

The man who called himself Icarus looked ahead, but something about those eyes held a key indicator that perhaps his sight was not the best. He knew there were three women sitting in front of him, which meant with this inference alone, he could look between the three individually. Nervousness and distrust were blatant in those large, doll-like eyes.

He finally, after the longest time, mustered up the courage to speak. His voice was tiny and shaky, but audible to the three. “You...you can...?”

“Yes, love. We c’n see you...perfectly, in fact. It’s...quite odd, really.”, Celeste laughed. “I’ve had that spell in th’ back o’ my mind for ages...but never ‘ad th’ right application for it. A ouija board is...a limited method of communication, but this...we c’n see you jus’ as if there was someone there before us...”

“And, by the Gods...it works. I truly forget that there’s a method to your madness, Cel...”

“Mmm...so you’re th’ one this board summoned, ah? I actually expected an older gentleman with that name...but i guess tis th’ con of assumin’, right? You...may i ask you another sensitive question, carino...?”

“You may. I assure you whatever it may be...i probably have heard it before. I don’t believe there is much that can truly frighten me...i lost all fear of the unknown long ago, my dear lady...”, he responded gently, a small smile curling at his mouth.

“Right...when you mentioned the ‘board’, which i guess was t’ mean th’ Ouija board...what did’ja mean by that? How was it tha’ this board ended your life?”

The smile on his lips then died to a spacy stare. He looked away, unsure of how to answer that question honestly without having the horrific memory tied to that response replay in his head. On one end, she was being so sincere and kind about her questioning that he felt compelled to continue answering, but on the other, how was he to answer something like that?

Icarus was torn between two evils: being dishonest with the woman or his own horrific trauma and death being relived again.

Fiddling with his hands, the act of toying with his fingers was enough to comfort him enough into not outright panicking before them. “I’d...i’d sooner not...answer that, ma’am. I...I can’t...not like...l-like...oh...”, he trailed off, mumbling into deafening silence.

It was then Celeste felt absolutely horrible for even asking him, if his shift in demeanor wasn’t much to go by. She felt as if she’d just kicked a puppy, and it took everything in her to not sever the circuit, keeping him visible and audible to all of them and embrace him. She looked over to Lucinda, who seemed to share in this grievance while Josephine’s impish expression softened.

-I mean...i s’ppose i would too if somethin’ came out from th’ board an’ used me as their personal lil joy-ride before killin’ my ass deader than a doornail—HEY!-, Josephine’s response was briefly cut short by a sharp punt to the ankle under the table. A low, agitated grunt left Lucinda at this.

“That’s ENOUGH! Haven’t you anything else better to say, or are you actively trying to start something with this poor man?! If you don’t want to be here, Josephine, simply say so!”

-...Ok, i could’ve phrased that better...but in my defense, you DID tell me t’ be honest. That’s all i was doing...an’ besides...yer acting as if that’s not pretty much what just happened. For God’s sake, LOOK. He even said it. The board killed him; what do you think that means? It means somethin’ looking t’ take advantage gave him th’ smoke an’ here he is!-

Both women glared her down , but it was Celeste who kept her eye on Icarus the entire time out of the corner of her peripherals, waiting for the phantom of the young man to go completely undone from grief and panic from the flooding memories of how his death came to be. 

But, no. Instead, he slumped over until his head was practically down on the table, shielding his face from view.

Her heart ached, and with her untethered hand, she reached out—stopping for a moment mid-way, as if reconsidering it—before finally then deciding to console him. Her fingertips barely grazed the back of his arm, ghosting over his sleeve. Even if he was dead, she could feel a warmth radiating from his skin.

Was it just an illusion...or was it a result of her magic trying to compensate and make him seem as real as possible?

She wasn’t sure...but she knew he was reactive to her consoling touch. He didn’t touch her back, but didn’t push her hand away.

“Pardon her...sometimes, i forget she’s overly mouthy, so feel free to ignore that...if you are uncomfortable by the questions, then by all means: you are not obligated to answer them.”

“I...I’m aware of this, but...she also speaks the truth. In my darkest hour, something…i couldn’t quite tell you nor explain…but something, with no intention of playing nice sought to take my life. I thought it was them—the one i lost...but t’was a horrible lie. My death was nothing more than a fluke, and so shall it be—”

“Maybe so...but it is the way of fate. Sometimes, she can be cruel...and other times, she can play cruel games...none of it is fair, nor was how you passed...and for that, i truly am sorry...”

A mournful hum, before he looked up at her once more with solemn, clouded over eyes. “...My time in your hold wanes, sadly...i must go...but if you ever wish to speak with me again. All you need to do is call my name...i assure you, miss...i will come. As one who is as well-versed in the art of specters as you, i can confirm it...to call the full name of the deceased soul will make them come to you, as you would if someone called for you.”, he spoke, his voice as quiet and reverent as a prayer.

Celeste blinked, but an understanding gleam filled those dark emerald eyes. He was right—while the spell was effective in keeping spirits visible and audible to those contacting them; it was never for too long. She could’ve begged him to stay, but alas, that was outside of his own control as a phantom. So, with a nod, she returned the same tone of voice.

“Alright...until next time, Mr. Icarus...goodbye.”

As soon as all three women’s hands let go of the planchette, the spell was broken and the world around them regained its natural lighting. Icarus was now no longer able to be seen or heard from, which only further confirmed the spell had dissipated to nothing, leaving the trio in both wonder and slight sadness for the man.

The one who seemed the most affected by this was, of course, the leader of the seance herself.

Her questions only left her with more questions, but mostly about the man she’d just spoken to; not only did his appearance leave her wanting to talk to him more, but what he had told her also struck her as fascinating. By how he talked about the dead and spirits, he was possibly a medium of some type, which only drew her into him more just by default.

Be that because of her own fascination with spirits and the afterlife (Hell, her closest companion and guardian was this!), or because of the longing of her own Elias...

Elias...

She remembered the night she learned about his demise by the man who had wanted her as his own bride and as a trophy. It made her glad that he’d taken her sight from her when he’d first had her locked within the dungeons of his manor; a world without Elias was a world she no longer wished to see. Even after she could restore her sight after finally being free of El Antiguo Mal, it made her wish after then that she hadn’t.

So...maybe he could tell her something about him?

Was that even possible?

...Would Icarus even want to do that...?

It sounded quite selfish for her to make him use a gift that he’d been given, likely to bring closure to the bereaved and the dead. It was a gift meant for everyone, not just her. She then felt ashamed for even considering that as a possibility, but...it was a possibility.

A small one, but not an asinine one.

She had to see him again...

She HAD to see Icarus again...

-...I know that look in yer eyes, Cel...what is it?-

“...Nothin’. It’s...it’s nothin’. Really, Josie. Come on, let’s...let’s get this mess cleaned up, yes? Who’s on for a movie and a bottle o’ Sauvignon? After that, i’m sure you both ‘ave ‘ad enough o’ th’ smoke an’ mirrors routine...”

Both Lucinda and Josephine looked at one another. Something didn’t feel right about this; the dazed expression and current countenance didn’t suit Celeste, and they knew it. Something about the experience had set something off for the woman, and being ever the brave soul, she was trying to repress it.

Be that with other activities or alcohol, as if the act of offering a bottle of wine didn’t say it all.

Still...was it wise to make her talk about it? Both knew that once Celeste was dead-set on something, there was no stopping the draconian woman...so what made it any different here...?