#crimson witch of embers

[genshinincorrectquotes]

Signora: Thanks to your little gesture, she actually believes that the earth is full of people who, deep down, are filled with kindness and caring!

Scaramouche: Well that’s absurd. People are bastard-coated bastards with bastard filling.

Signora: Exactly!

[eldridgecandell]

"Is this the part where we run?" The guard whispered softly as the shadowed form floated through the wood.

Eld grimaced hard as she stared at the many eyed thing floating through the air, his hands gripping tightly to the stock of his crossbow.

The eyes turned and found them.

"Yes," Eld spoke harshly as he grabbed the guard as they began to back up deeper into the Crimson.

Maéna

[rainybyday]

Pt 2 | Pt 3

Jazz was in awe of her baby brother. Sure, she had seen him in her Ma’s tummy but seeing him in person was different. 

He was so.... squishy and tiny and small and soft! His hands waving in slow motions with legs kicking in the air, closed eyes and baby soft clothes on his new body. Jazz was content on watching her brother like this, hearing his soft coos and simply staying with him but she felt a nudge from her left. 

“Touch him Jasmin,” Big Sister Rosa said. “Hold out your finger to greet him.”

Jazz looked back at her Big Sis. Her dirty (mud covered) blond (dark red) hair shifted so her green (missing) eyes stared at her in gentleness (and understanding, for she too was a big sister once upon a time). Seeing Jazz’s hesitation, she nudged her again towards the crib to encourage her.

Jazz looked at her, then glanced back at her brother. The baby was still wiggling in his position. Hesitantly she reached out her hand to hover over her brother, still a bit unsure as to what she should do. Just when she was about to retreat her hand when the nerves got the best of her, she felt the touch of feathery soft skin. 

Wide blues eyes watched in awe as a tinny tiny hand grazed her’s. Danny was blindly waving his arm to feel her own before little fingers with even tinnier nails finally unclenched from his fist and latching on to her hand. 

A moment of silence passed by before the tiny ittiy bitty baby made a soft whining sound. 

And then-! And then-!

He opened his eyes!

Jazz felt all her breath escaped her in a loud gasp as blurry blue eyes blinked against the bright lights of his nursery. He blinked for a long time before his eyes seemed adjust enough to seek out the soft thing he was touching. 

“Hi baby,” Jazz breathed. “I’m your sister.”

Little eyes blinked as responding hums answered back. 

(The specters watched the two living breathing beings as they conversed with each other. Neither of the siblings knew that those words would have taken a hold of them both. A bind that transcends beyond blood and water.)

(Both pair of eyes glowed under the veil, ebony hair became wispy white and crimson hair became blazing embers.)

(One held the starting of a star in his eyes, space under his shadow, and eternity written in his future.)

(One held the shine of a sun in her eyes, magic on her fingertips, and the birth of infinity that will be the tale of her destiny.)

Jazz protected and loved her brother. Twin laughter can be heard in rooms they claim to play in. Jazz would always insist on feeding him when her parents come to grab him for food. Giddiness would push Jazz to rush to her brother once school is over to tell him about her day. Slowly, Jazz’s life was becoming brighter with her little star by her side. 

The birth of her brother also had another side effect. She would converse with her Big Sisters more, asking questions about her brother's health or ask them what stories her brother would love to hear. Craft projects were made with the upmost care in order to gift them to her little star. She spent a large about of time digging for pretty rocks and wildflowers to present to him as well. More and more she planned her days around what she can do to make her little brother the happiest he can be. 

More and more she started to spend more time outside 

(More and more people of the town started to notice how the predator began to prowl the streets of their uneasy town.)

(Tension began to rise, and every person would start to slow down around corners of their homes. Afraid to meet the gaze of something unnatural, the beginning of something dangerous with too white teeth and too bright eyes. Tension was becoming thicker and only time will tell when it snaps.)

(And it did.)

“What are you smiling about?”

“Hmm?” Jazz hummed as she turned questioning to the voice behind her.

“You heard me!” A classmate yelled. “What are smiling about Witch!”

Jazz tilt her head at the term, not noticing the growing uneasiness of her classmates around her who were staring at the altercation. She pondered at the new word as she answered. “I was smiling because I was thinking of my brother.”

The classmate waited, clearly looking for more of an explanation but got none which agitated them. “So what? You just smiling thinking of your pet?”

Jazz frowned. “Pet? Danny is not my pet.”

No, Danny was her little brother. Her sweet little brother who would smile so adorably with so soft cheeks and playing with ever do gently. Her little brother was her prefect little star. He wasn’t some pet.

Her classmate looked at her disgust. “Thats what a Witch would say.”

“What’s a Witch?”

“What you are!”

She doesn’t understand what that means at all. 

(The unseen dead children cower under the name. The name that was said with such fear yet hunger. The need to destroy and take and light on fire because of that name. Many have seen those that set ablaze, many have been there longer than what their appearance may imply.)

(Many have seen the start of the hunt.)

(The Witch Hunt.)

“Why would you ask that?” Big Sister Annie asked Jazz. 

Jazz, unaware of the troubled look her Big Sister had, answered. “A classmate called me a Witch, but I don’t know what that means.”

(The Fenton Household became still. The elderly couple at the back stopped gossiping with each other as their auras became a deadly shade of black. Big Sister Rosa frozen in kitchen, her open wound on her neck started to drip blood once more and her mulated hands tumbled. The women in dresses of fire started to burn, skin turning black and the smell of ozone.)

Big Sister Annie stayed silent for a long moment. So long that Jazz started to shift every so often for waiting for so long. Finally, as years of waiting (not) Big Sister Annie crouched down to meet her eyes. 

“Listen to me Jasmin.” A̸̰̹̬̭͌̏̅̍͜n̷̺̆͌̽̈́̽́͝n̴͔͉̻̯̪̤͇̐̐͛͋̚͝ę̶̦̓̀̃b̵̈̀̓̀͛ͅë̷̡͚̬̳͎̪́̚t̴̡͊h̷̜̪͖̓ͅ ̷̡͖͎̥̇M̴̡̛̠͖͚͈͋̈́̑̾a̷̢̺̝̭̣͎̾̈́̋̾̑r̷͕̣̐ḯ̶̢̤̉͗̔̒̽͝b̸͍̓̅̂̀ͅe̶̝̬̹̪͇̒̄͒̌́̃͝l̴̰̍l̸̼͕̭̞͂̋̽͝ ̴͖̼̙̞̬̈́̔̃̓G̴̠̭̖̥̦̮̙̓̓͆̉͋̋r̴̜͙͊̽̉͗ã̸͖̞̬̠͎̦̓͆̃͂͜c̷̱͙̬͈̺͗͐͌͆̚e̶̪̭̦̬͉̯̩̔̇̽͂̀ demanded. “Listen to me very carefully to what I am about to tell you. Do you understand?”

“Uh.. Yes?”

“Jasmin.”

“Yes!”

(There's something about history. History always tells us the stories of the past, the winnings of war and the start of buildings anew. History is always taught to show the mistakes we make so that we will be blessed to no repeat them.)

“Witches are people that are hurt by others because people fear them. They don’t mean to cause fear, it's just that people are scared of things they don’t understand, things they deem strange.”

(But we often forget that History is written by the survivors, the winners.)

“Jasmin, you're not strange to me nor to Roselle or Madame Victoria or Master Wischer. We love you so very much, but you have to understand something Jasmin. Not everyone can see us, they don’t understand us, nor do they accept us. It's not their fault nor yours, but sometimes people believe in stories that are passed down far to earnestly.”

(And History, is not always right.)

“We don’t want you to be hurt, so please, listen to me Jasmin. Listen to me.”

(Witches, as they all know, were always burned at the stake.)

That day was the day that Jazz learned how to pretend. Pretend because if she did not, then she will be hurt. 

She doesn’t want to be hurt so she pretends, even if she doesn’t like to pretend that she can’t see the children in her classroom. Or how she can no longer call out to the madams in beautiful gown in the streets or dance in the forest with them anymore without getting caught. Sure, she could still talk with them behind closed doors, but her family started to come less and less by the day. 

Slowly, it became just Jazz and Danny. But her and Danny. And no one else.

(She wonders why they left her.)

It would be years of being normal, years of pretending to read more silently and walk away a bit faster. Years of pretending to be someone she is not. 

It was years of fakeness when she meet someone new, someone lost. 

His name was Jason. 

[infamous-light]

Only Mine

Dark! Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Only Mine

Summary: Driven by desperation, you rush to escape, fully aware that if Wanda catches you, there will be no way out.

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: Possessive/obsessive behavior, yandere, non-con kissing, magical restraints

The forest was silent – too silent, as if even the wildlife had sensed her presence and fled.

You stumbled through the tangled undergrowth, your breath coming in ragged gasps, every snapped twig underfoot echoing like a gunshot in the oppressive stillness. The moon hung low in the sky, its pale glow shrouded by swirling crimson clouds that twisted unnaturally, as though the night itself bent to her will.

Your heart thundered in your chest, the sound nearly drowning out everything else as you cast a frantic glance over your shoulder. You saw nothing, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t there. The Scarlet Witch had a way of blending into the shadows when it suited her. It wasn’t just her powers that made her terrifying – it was the unwavering intensity in her gaze, the fiery obsession that burned in her eyes every time they met yours.

“Run all you like, darling,” Wanda’s voice drifted through the air, soft and lilting. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. “You can’t escape me. You belong to me.”

A branch snagged your sleeve, and you ripped free, panting as you pushed deeper into the trees. Just when you dared to believe you had gained some distance, a faint glimmer of crimson light would catch your eye – a cruel reminder that she was toying with you, giving you the illusion of hope.

You pushed your legs to move faster, each step sending a sharp pain lancing through your calves. Your muscles burned with protest, but you refused to give in. You couldn’t stop – not now. You had to keep going. You had to –

A sudden force seized your ankles, wrenching you off balance and slamming you face-first into the ground. The impact drove the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping as a broken cry escaped your lips. Dirt and leaves clung to your palms as you scrambled to push yourself upright, but her magic's hold only grew stronger, its sinister glow pulsing brighter with each passing second. Panic surged through you as you thrashed wildly, yet the crimson tendrils slithered higher, coiling around your legs like a serpent trapping its prey.

It pulled you back, tearing you away from your desperate dash for freedom.

“No!” You screamed, clawing at the ground, your fingernails digging into roots and soil in a futile attempt to hold on, but everything slipped from your grasp.

The tendrils gave a final, brutal tug, dragging you mercilessly toward her.

At last, Wanda emerged from the shadows, her crimson eyes blazing like twin embers in the darkness. Her stare seemed to cut right through you, pinning you in place. The weight of it sent a sinking chill through your stomach.

“Don’t make this harder on yourself,” Wanda purred, her voice smooth as it wrapped around you like a vice. “We both know how this ends.”

The tendrils lifted you off the ground, and you struggled against them, twisting and turning, but her magic held fast, keeping your wrists and ankles bound tightly. Wanda tilted her head slightly, watching you with a predatory smile. She moved towards you slowly, each step calculated, her eyes never leaving yours.

“I only wanted to protect you,” Wanda continued, stopping just in front of you. She raised her right hand, letting her fingers graze your cheek in a mockery of tenderness while her magic kept you suspended, helpless in the air. “But you had to defy me. You had to run,” her voice hardened, the warmth in her tone replaced by something colder, more dangerous. “And now, I’ll have to remind you of who you belong to.”

Her magical tendrils shifted, curling their way around your chest before constricting with suffocating force. You gasped, the pressure stealing the breath from your lungs. Wanda’s face hovered just inches from yours, her breath warm against your lips.

“Tell me you’re mine,” she murmured, her tone softening again, though her grip on you did not. “Say it.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest as Wanda loomed too close, her presence almost overbearing. Desperately, you averted your gaze, trying to create some distance, but she was everywhere. Her magic grew fiercer, pressing down on your mind like a thousand heavy stones.

“Say it.” Wanda repeated, her voice low and threatening.

Her magic tightened around you and a strained cry slipped from your lips.

“I…” Your voice faltered; the words stuck in your throat.

Her expression darkened, and she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. “Say it, or I’ll make you.”

Tears stung your eyes as you whispered, barely audible, “I’m yours.”

Wanda’s smile stretched slowly, a quiet satisfaction in her eyes, but it lacked warmth. It was pure possession. Pure victory. She reached out, her fingers curling around your jaw with a grip that was firm, almost cruel, and pulled you in. Wanda’s lips crashed against yours with such force that it left no room for resistance. The kiss was demanding, urgent, her tongue sweeping into your mouth as if to mark you, to claim you completely.

Every instinct in you screamed to pull away but you couldn’t. The grip on your jaw tightened, anchoring you in place as Wanda deepened the kiss, leaving you helpless to do anything but surrender to her.

Thankfully, Wanda pulled back a moment later. Her lips lingered for a moment longer than necessary before her magic finally loosened just enough to release you. You collapsed to your knees before her, trembling and broken.

Wanda's lips curled into a sly, mocking smile as her eyes studied you with dark amusement.

“What’s the matter?” She teased, her fingers sliding beneath your chin, tilting your face upward to meet hers. “Can’t handle a simple kiss?”

A bitter surge of frustration rose within you, but you couldn't muster the words to protest.

With a soft, almost indifferent sigh, Wanda stepped back.

“Let’s go home.” She said, her voice casual, as if nothing had just happened.

And then, with a sudden burst of red light, the world around you dissolved into darkness.

[pupsmailbox]

GOTH ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　abby. ace. addam. alister. amelia. amoret. ange. angel. angelo. anubis. arch. archette. ash. aslan. aspen. astor. astoria. astrophel. atticus. axelle. azazel. azrael. bael. bat. batsy. bella. bellatrix. blade. blair. blanchette. brahms. branwen. cain. callan. calliope. cannibelle. caskeite. casketta. caskette. caspian. celeste. celestia. chaos. charlotte. cherry. chira. chiraelle. chiro. chiroptairre. chiroptelle. chiropteranne. choir. christian. cofette. coffin. coffine. constantine. corbin. corpse. crimson. crow. crowley. damian. damien. demonesse. divina. dorian. draven. edgar. elatha. elijah. elix. elwin, elwin. elwood. ember. emmaline. etienne. evan. evangeline. eve. faith. forest. forrest. frill. frille. frilleine. frilliette. frilly. genesis. ghost. gothita. gothitelle. gothitess. gothitesse. grey. gwen. gypsy. hades. hawthorne. hecate. hemlock. imortalle. imortella. iris. israel. jakob. jet. jett. johnas. josiah. judas. kain. kane. kedi. keir. lacey. laciene. laciette. lazarus. leo. lilith. lilithe. lolita. lucid. lucien. lucifer. lucius. luscious. lynx. maeve. malice. mana. martyr. max. melancholy. merle. micah. michael. misery. mordred. morris. mors. morte. mortis. mourge. mourgette. myrette. nightshade. noah. noctre. nocturne. noir. obsidian. oleander. omen. onyx. orion. orpheus. ozul. ozzy. prince. prophet. raven. ravenie. raveniette. rook. rowan. ruby. saber. saint. salem. samael. samuel. scarlet. secrette. seraph. serenity. shilo. shiloh. silas. silver. silvester. skelly. skulliene. skulliette. skully. sorrow. sylvester. syn. thorn. thorne. tobias. tommy. trix. umbriel. valkyrie. valo. vervain. vesper. victoria. ville. violetta. vito. vlad. woundie. zeon. zephyrine.

PRONOUNS ⌇　abby/abby. ae/aer. ash/ash. bat/bat. bleed/bleed. blood/blood. book/book. bug/bug. burn/burn. chain/chain. chap/chapel. chill/chill. claw/claw. cloud/cloud. cob/cobweb. cof/coffin. coffin/coffin. corps/corpse. creep/creep. cri/cross. cro/cros. cross/cross. cross/crosse. da/dark. dae/dae. dae/daem. dark/dark. decay/decay. dee/dark. des/despair. devout/devout. div/divine. dust/dust. echo/echo. edge/edgy. en/envie. fae/fang. fang/fang. fe/fear. fie/fiend. fog/fog. fri/frill. frill/frill. ghost/ghost. ghoul/ghoul. gore/gore. goth/goth. goth/gothic. gra/grave. grave/grave. ha/haunt. halo/halo. hie/hiem. ho/holy. holy/holy. horn/horn. hx/hxm. hy/hym. ink/ink. lace/lace. lae/lace. lost/lost. mist/mist. moon/moon. net/fishnet. ni/night. night/night. null/null. par/parasol. parasol/parasol. pray/pray. pray/prayer. proph/prophet. ro/rose. rose/rose. rot/rot. rust/rust. sac/sacrifice. saint/saint. scar/scar. shx/hxr. shy/hyr. si/sinister. sin/sin. sku/skull. skull/skull. snake/snake. spider/spider. spike/spike. sto/storm. stud/stud. thou/thorn. thron/thorn. thxy/thxm. vae/vaer. ve/ver. velvet/velvet. vo/void. whis/whisper. whisper/whisper. witch/witch. wood/wood. x/x. xae/xaer. × . ♠️ . ♣️ . ⚰️ . ⛓️ . 🌑 . 💀 . 🕯 . 🕷 . 🕸 . 🖤 . 🥀 . 🦇 .

[daybreak-overture]

Love Nikki Genshin-Inspired Looks: Harbingers Pt. 1

Tartaglia

Tartaglia- Foul Legacy

La Signora

Crimson Witch of Embers

Scaramouche

Shouki no Kami

Arlecchino

The Knave

| Mondstadt Part 1 | Mondstadt Part 2 |

| Liyue Part 1 | Liyue Part 2 |

Inazuma Part 1 | Inazuma Part 2

| Sumeru Part 1 | Sumeru Part 2|

| Fontaine | 4.4 + |

[dummiebrat]

𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗲, 𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗲

Agatha Harkness X Rio Vidal.

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: A powerfully charged confrontation between a Agatha Harkness and her lover, Rio Vidal. The scene unfolds with Rio challenging Agatha after discovering her stealing powers from other witches through seduction. Tension runs high as Rio's jealousy and defiance clash with Agatha’s dominant nature.

Notes: Power Dynamics, Jealousy, Brat Tamer Dynamics, Dominance and Submission, Emotional Conflict, Aftercare, Intimacy.

Author's Notes: Just me, spitting out the random crazy things that come into my head. I'm still not sure about writing smut, but I like the power exchange dynamic, so here we are. English is not my native language so please forgive any mistakes

ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe room was drenched in darkness, save for the flickering dance of candlelight casting shadows that swayed like specters upon the stone walls. The air was thick with the heady scent of incense, a haze of cloves and myrrh that clung to the skin like a lover's whisper. Agatha Harkness stood in the center of the room, her silhouette regal and unyielding, draped in midnight-black velvet that seemed to swallow the light. Her eyes, twin orbs of molten silver, glinted with a dangerous curiosity as they fixed upon the figure kneeling before her.

Rio Vidal — Lady Death — was a vision of defiance, her raven hair cascading in wild, untamed waves that framed her face like a stormy halo. She was all sharp edges and simmering fury, the perfect contradiction of rebellion and allure. Her hands were bound behind her back with crimson silk, the delicate fabric a striking contrast to the cold, pale perfection of her skin. Yet even in her captivity, there was a fire in her eyes, a challenge that smoldered like embers waiting to ignite.

— You think I didn't see you? — Rio spat, her voice a low, sultry growl that quivered with barely restrained anger. — Stealing their power... their very essence with nothing but a kiss. How many witches have you drained, Agatha? How many more will you seduce with those honeyed words and poisoned lips?

Agatha's smile was a slow, deliberate thing-a curve of crimson lips that spoke of secrets and sins, a smile that promised both pleasure and pain in equal measure. She stepped forward, each movement a calculated grace, her boots echoing against the stone floor with a rhythmic, taunting click.

— Jealousy, my dear? — Agatha purred, her voice as smooth and dark as velvet. She tilted Rio's chin upward with a single finger, forcing those stormy eyes to meet her own. — How charming. I thought you enjoyed watching me play with my prey. Or is it that you're afraid you're no longer enough to sate me?

A flash of hurt crossed Rio's face, so fleeting that it could have been imagined, but Agatha saw it-relishing the vulnerability beneath the defiance. Leaning closer, Agatha let her breath ghost over Rio's lips, their proximity charged with a heat that bordered on violence.

— You've always been my favorite, little brat. — she whispered, the words a caress and a command all at once. — But you seem to have forgotten your place.

Rio's lips twisted into a defiant smirk, a dangerous glint in her eyes. — Perhaps it's you who's forgotten, Mistress. — she shot back, her voice dripping with insolence. — Perhaps I need to remind you of how much you crave the challenge.

Agatha's response was a sharp tug on the silk that bound Rio's wrists, pulling her closer until their bodies were pressed together, a battle of wills made flesh. There was no softness in the kiss that followed, only a clash of tongues and teeth, a bruising, punishing claiming of territory. But beneath the fury, there was something else-a desperation, a need that neither could fully acknowledge, even as it consumed them.

When they finally broke apart, both were panting, their breaths mingling in the scant inches that separated them.

Agatha's eyes were dark with something that bordered on feral, but Rio was the first to speak, her voice softer now, tinged with something that might have been regret.

— I just... I hate sharing you. — she admitted, her defiance crumbling to reveal a raw vulnerability that was as rare as it was precious. — I want to be the only one who has your attention, your power... your love.

For a moment, the mask slipped from Agatha's face, replaced by a tenderness that was as fleeting as a candle's flicker. She loosened the bonds around Rio's wrists, massaging the reddened skin with a gentleness that seemed out of place after the brutality of their encounter.

— My darling, — Agatha murmured, pressing a kiss to each wrist in turn, as if in penance. — You are the only one who truly has me. The others are... mere distractions.

Rio's eyes softened at the words, and she leaned into Agatha's touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips. — Then prove it. — she whispered, almost a plea. — Show me that I'm the only one.

And so Agatha did, but this time, with a gentleness that spoke of devotion rather than dominance. She held Rio close, caressing away the hurt, the jealousy, the anger. This was their ritual, their unspoken dance between power and surrender, a constant push and pull that only strengthened their bond.

Afterwards, they lay entwined in the afterglow, Agatha's fingers tracing lazy patterns along Rio's spine, grounding her, comforting her.

— Better? — Agatha asked softly, a rare smile curving her lips, one meant only for Rio.

Rio nodded, a contented sigh escaping her as she buried her face against Agatha's neck. — Yes, Mistress, — she murmured, her voice soft and sleepy. — I'm a good girl... your good girl.

Agatha's smile widened as she pulled the covers over them, the firelight casting a warm glow upon their tangled forms. — Yes, you are, baby. — she whispered, pressing a final kiss to Rio's temple. — And you're mine. Always.

ㅤㅤㅤ

[venti-the-bard-rumor-mill]

am i the only one who remembers the goddamn crimson witch of embers kicking Venti down the stairs?????? what did he do to you, fuck your dead husband? or was he the nearest mondstatian to chuck? did they have prior beef? he didn't seem all that affected by her death, although neither was 90% of mondstat....

Anon, what are you going on about???

[youraveragetorturedpoet]

Taylor Swift Albums As: Aesthetics/Random Things

DEBUT: green meadows, wildflowers, sundresses with boots, car radios, back country roads, laughing so hard you cry, pickup trucks, butterflies, innocence, freckles, having all the time in the world, fireflies, moonlit lakes, old blue jeans, front porches, sweet tea, hot lazy summer days

FEARLESS: gold sparkles, rainfall/storms, high school years, fairy tales, schoolyards, princesses and princes, old books of ancient tales, waiting, clocks, knights in armor, prom, phone calls, broken promises, smiles, fighting for a cause, mutual pining, school gyms, band practice

SPEAK NOW: any and all shades of purple, trepidation in love, storybooks, fancy ballgowns, big cities, liars, awkward meetings, sparklers, crowded rooms, flames to embers, poetic endings, fighting dragons, castles, old antiques, summertime, fireworks, roses, using your voice, farewell to childhood

RED: classic red lipstick, foggy mornings, notes on pictures, trains, planes, autumn, things changing in the blink of an eye, lockets, distance, mosaics, busy streets, vintage, weeping alone, yearning, longing, the cost of fame, scarves, lattes, sleek hair, echoes, starlight, cafes, hoping against hope

1989: retro, blinding lights, vanilla ice cream, seagulls, daisies, carefree days, the beach/the ocean, tabloids, paper planes, rumors, sky blue, car rides at twilight, waves/water, wild parties, sequins, marquees, running, finding yourself, reinvention, recklessness, prime of life

REP: haunted by living ghosts, sexy, buried alive, black & crimson & white, illusions, hard liquor, snakes, "burn the witch", the perfect crime, revenge, trickery, love is a drug, cautiously optimistic, the girl you knew is dead, sleeping a lot, burning bridges, darkest nights with a starry sky

LOVER: pastels, summer nights, dirty jokes, star signs, cozy home, American classic, cheers, full moons, sunsets, rooftops, drunk in a car, new chapters, religious themes, pleading, any and all shades of pink, playing games, accepting someone fully, denial, kitchens, memories, apologies, bars, sunsets

FOLKLORE: grays & muted blacks, beginnings, spring, summer, stars, bleeding from old wounds, trains, a midnight sea, bus stops, old film reels, funeral for old self, braids, lies, pretending, rumors, waiting by the phone, malls, wishes, drowning, jewels, old tales of those who came before, August and July

EVERMORE: bronze & shades of brown, snow, endings, reunions, fall and winter, moving on, old friends, a weekend tryst, true crime podcasts, healing from deep wounds, ivy and greenery, stuck on repeat, crescent moons, November and December, willow trees, bubbling champagne, following dreams, watching from the sidelines

MIDNIGHTS: sultry, dark wine, hurt but not dead, friendship bracelets, navy blue and mustard yellow, moonstones, honey, cats, vulnerability, auroras, impossible things, growing up, rain and snow, time portals, politics, meteors, shimmering, recognizing your worth, simplicity, chess, emotional infidelity, glitches

TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT: quill pens, white, the scent of old books, denial & anger & bargaining & grief & acceptance, typewriters, exhaustion, profound sadness, mental institutions, the price of fame, refiners fire, childhood stories, nostalgia, ancient prophecies, hotel rooms, dolls, mental health issues, reading Aristotle just because, going in kicking and screaming but coming out alive

[colorfuldreamsmkg]

Full res link

Congratulations to our cast of 20! Prologue proper should be starting in roughly a week, as your SEKAIs are born!

Below the cut is the text version of the roster.

Unit 1

Bo Lau Fei - K-Pop Visual, played by Lovely

Hitome Hoshikawa - Cosmetology Student, played by Hes

Inazuma Dauza - Dance Game Mascot, played by Azurite

Pellonia - VTuber, played by Faust

Unit 2

Cecilie Erdon - Message in a Bottle Writer, played by Ser

Clarabell - Clown, played by Ember

Swan Song - Biomusician, played by Crow

Witch - NEET, played by Diddgery

Unit 3

Crimson - K-Pop Vocalist, Played by Rei

Dahlia Howardson - Percussionist, Played by Penny

Kanji Mochizuki - Florist, Played by Gato

Suzie Dean - Librarian, Played by Luca

Unit 4

Emile Dupont - Orchestral Music Director, Played by Ash

Johann Reiher - Abstract Artist, Played by Roadie

María Dolores Aguiar - Singing Competition Judge, Played by Zwei

Sonny Desirée - Roboticist, Played by Pastry

Unit 5

Erika Singer - Retail Worker, Played by Nan

Jedidiah Jones - Mechanic, Played by Roark

Ozzy Driscoll - Tattoo Artist, Played by Maya

Takuma Sanzou - Bartender, Played by Aster

[fatuismooches]

Playing HSR and thinking about Foxttore made me think about Dottore and/or Reader making creatures similar to cake cats from HSR's "Critter Pick" event because they're so cuuute. I imagine Cattore and Readcat just can't get off each other, like their prototypes. Dottore is also a type of person who's like:

*Doesn't want a cat*

*Reader gets a cat anyway*

*Dottore and cat: ❤️❤️❤️*

It's now in handbook guide that if you work under Dottore, you must keep an eye on creatures, especially on Readcat. If this was an actual event, Cattore and Readcat would have special interactions, like Wisteria Cake and Lambda's Friend. Rare creatures would include:

Crow Cake - Dottore

Sparrow Cake - Reader

Court Jester - Pierro

Armored Cake - Capitano

Angel Strawberry Shortcake - Columbina

Cake from Hearth - Arlecchino

Chicken Patty - Pulchinella

Bitter Choco - Scaramouche

Teacake - Sandrone

Iced Cake - Signora

Mora Candy - Pantalone (yknow those candies that look like coins, but are actually chocolate)

Ginger Loaf - Tartaglia

(this is verg cringy and took way too long ;;)

Dottore and other fatui have to write the wildest reports about cat cakes, like:

*Crow Cake hisses at people, who try to pet him or Sparrow Cake, only accepting affection from Lord Harbinger or his lover

*Ginger Loaf tried to fight Armored Cake, but the latter one didn't react

*Angel Strawberry Shortcake lets out sounds, that resemble singing. Other creatures are mesmerised

*Bitter Choco has no interest in spending tine with other creatures, prefering sunbathing

*Mora Candy stole a few Mora coins and kept playing with them. It's assumed he likes how they shine in sun

*Crow Cake tried to make a copy of himself and suceeded..??

I also imagine Reader eventually making more cats to represent Dottore's segments, Foul Legacy, Crimson Witch of Embers... They're unstoppable once they start, so the two have many many cats... When Doctor stays in lab at nights, sparrow cake can and will sit on his lap and purr loudly, demanding attention. As for Reader, when their lover pulls an all-nighter in lab, they have a cat version of him to cuddle with :3

-🥀 (can you tell im a cat person--)

YESSS WJBWEJBEW I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS IDEA AND THE CRITTER CAKES AHHH. These names too? Oh my gosh I'm giving you a kith 🥀 anon I'M EATING THIS UP. Dottore is SO a cat lover in denial. He gets all annoyed and huffy because he 'doesn't see why you'd want a creature like that'. He acts like he doesn't care about them but in private... the cat is lying on his lap and he's giving it many head pats and ear scratches.

You were the one who begged Dottore to work on making the cake cat critters with you and he begrudgingly gave in... because you're the one asking. You're the one who named and designed all of them of course! (Dottore was rather impressed with your skill, he noted. If only you put that energy to other experiments...)

I love how we're just adding to the Fatui Handbook 😭 (If Readcat is found by itself, return to a segment immediately. Do not feed sweets to another critter in front of Crow Cake or Cattore, it will not be happy.) Crow Cake has probably also stolen some of the stash to share with Sparrow Cake... it has also stolen your attention from Dottore, much to the Harbinger's dismay. Cake From Hearth can be seen with three smaller cakes following it around sometimes, wonder who they could be? Sparrow Cake and Angel Strawberry Shortcake often spend time together. Crow Cake can be seen watching jealously in the distance. Sparrow Cake likes to stack itself on top of Crow Cake, with its... somehow created copy on top.

Eventually, you got a ton of these circular cats chilling in various corners of the lab... you might even give some away to the Harbingers who are interested! The only problem is that, there is only one Sparrow Cake and numerous similar blue cakes wanting its attention...

(I too am a cat person.)

[darkdemeter]

(Spoilers if you haven't watched so...) So, I just got into Agatha All Along a bit and now I had this little idea in my head: Death with male S/O who's like a witch that has lived for hundreds of years, similar to Agatha Harkness and Lady Death.

CHARMED TO MEET YOUR CENTURIES OLD ACQUAINTANCE Death x Male Witch!Reader ・2.1k words ・

Rumour has it that a witch hides in the Crimson Forests. A powerful sorcerer of dark magics that incites a threatening challenge to the balance. Poses hostility to humanity. Vile incubus, a heathen of malevolence. Scorned of name and renounced of belonging. Thus why you dwell in hiding. 

And the reaper comes for you, intending to do what he does best. Kill. 

So why did he not wander in through the leather flaps of your large tent, your humble abode, with his scythes drawn? Instead wearing a tightly bound drawstring bag to his belt that swung with each powerful stride he made. His sense of touch was muted yet it was felt as the flap brushed over his knuckles, hand raised to push his intrusion forward. In the subtle coziness of the tent a strong perfume hung in the air, smoked trails of incense wafted above like scented waterfalls. Despite his mask he was still suffocated from the smell. Lanterns were strung up and gave off a low ambient source that flickered to an unspeakable tandem. 

The  reaper found himself ducking beneath the bound herbs and accessories of beads, reed-grass dolls and bones tied to leather strips that hung from the wooden branches fashioned into support beams above, his stature inside the tent uncomfortably too big for the space. In the tent’s center a fire cracks and spits a flurry of embers that waft upward, the devourer of wood coughing up the ashen remnants like bones and fat not belonging to the stomach of its hearth. Above it a dark cauldron froths and bubbles with a swampy pigment, any form of appeal long since taken from the water. 

Not even Death would drink it. 

He continues to trace around the open space, skeptical to sharply turn and face the fleeting shadow he swore moved and followed him behind his back. A cunning and vile demon stalking him. 

“You look lost, Reaper.” Death spins with a jerked pivot on the soles of his worn, tattered boots, hand braced to his side and to Harvester’s hilt. You had not been standing at the entrance before. The lashes and skin around your eyes fold thinly, pointedly as if to press him with glaring study. But your lips twist into a coy, almost beguiling smile. “I’m awfully flattered if one of the Four deigns to grace me with his presence.”

“Perhaps it’s to bring your witchcraft to an end,” drawls the reaper. His answer makes you laugh, cynical. “Really now? And why, may I ask, the reason? I surely pose no threat reading one’s fate through the splinter of their offered mind.” 

You stalk closer and the ruffled cuffs of your robe trails behind you, its fabric doing less to conceal the sight of your chest. Around your neck hangs those same adornments of beads and bones, attached to thinly woven threads of leather, some fitting perfectly while others loosely extend down your sternum. 

Your hands reach out, the prickly nature of your short, sharp nails attempt to scratch at his mask with intrigue but Death recoils from you. He arches his face higher and out of reach to which your lips falter, forming into a displeased sneer. No fun. 

“That is what you came here for, is it not?” 

For a face so placid and made of bone, the reaper’s gaze is so… revealing. The transparent gloss of amber that hides the yellowish iris shrinks and the dark, purplish bruised skin wrinkled and furrowed release that tension of his well guarded glare. “You think too highly of your magic if you think my reason would to be here is—”

You wiggle your fingers with a musing motion and tut of your tongue, pointing down at the drawstring bag at his hip. “And yet… you bring the required offerings to know your future.”

A noise hitches in the Grim Reaper’s throat as his hand clenches tautly at the bag as though your very gaze on it will pry it from him, sealing himself into having his fortunes told… He was caught. His purpose was known. You give another powerful and rich laugh. 

“So what exactly do you seek to know in your future, Pale Rider?” 

Around the fire, you each slowly circle the pit, your shadows dancing upon the tent’s canvas like an ancient story being foretold through their sauntering waver, loosely camouflaged in the dimmer portions of the light and accentuated in the brighter tones. 

He unties the sack from his belt and drops it to the mat placed before the cauldron with a heavy, rumpled thump of the cloth being pummeled by its contents. 

His eyes, however, remain locked on you. Transfixed. “Is that answer mandatory?” 

“Do you doubt your future?”

“No.” His answer came far too quickly to be valued as anything other than urgency. “And yet you hide something from me. Even now.”

His eyes thin more into a pointed glare. “Not everything is yours to know.” 

You each stop in tandem with the other and your hands clasp together in front of your sternum. Your head moving to tilt slowly aside and the trick of the light captures a sight most horrifying for a human to wear. Golden eyes, fearsome hues of hellfire with obsidian slits. But then it vanishes just as quickly as he’d seen it. 

“But my lord does,” you coo with a scoff lurching in your lungs, lips pursed coyly. He states factually with an air of skepticism, “You work beneath the demon lord, Samael.”

Your fingers gently rap the contour of your palm with a slow, beating clap. “Bravo. You’re a clever one.” 

“And what do you get out of that arrangement?” He had reason to speculate that the font of your power stemmed from Samael. That the lord bestowed upon you some essence of his power so long as you conducted duty under his whim. You both continue to circle around the fire and you feign a grasp at your chest, wounded by his intrusive question. As if you’d ever tell… 

“A witch does not kiss and tell, rider. But I wonder…” Your chin tilts higher and your finger flirtatiously points, bowing in indication to him. “Has anyone ever kissed you?” 

Somehow you’ve drawn closer to him now and he doesn’t know how. Like a dance, you arch forward and he bends back, reluctant to allow you to touch him and toying with reckless abandon, you hand flitters and hovers over the bust of his wide chest. But ever by the caress of your fingers that manage to run over his skin, you are poisoned by a chill that shrouds him like a cloak. The longer you would have held there, that cold would spread through the length of your fingers and into your palms like venom taking over. 

“So the tales are true,” you sigh under your breath, “Colder than the grave. Not even ash and soot want nothing to do with you.” 

Death studies the twitch of a smirk that spreads through your lips and a silent chuckle emanating from your shoulders, your very touch haunts the place on his chest where that sensation lingers. “Come.” 

You beckon the rider to sit before the fire and though reluctant given the hesitant shift of his boots that stomp and shuffle about, your eyes watch him like a keen feline, a thousand secrets within your piercing gaze. A million answers no mortal should be capable of knowing. 

You sit on the mat and take hold of the sack he dropped there, retrieving from it the offerings. 

“Wonderful,” you hum in an unknown tongue. It’s one that scratches at the back of his mind like a feverish itch. Though the bag remains unopened you can sense the presence of the offerings as though they call to you and that is enough to suffice. Death’s body coils back when you rise to your feet, perhaps concerned that you would pounce into his lap, but you walk towards your altar and retrieve a large, milk-clouded orb. A leviathan’s eye and bring it back to where you both sit at the fire. 

Upon a chant in that same, unknown language the fire grows cold and black, embers of a dullened blue fluttering up as you place the eye into the flames. The dark gradient of your fingertips becomes a blur to his eyes, almost falling into a state of hypnosis. “Look into the eye, Pale Rider. Open up that sliver within your soul… and let the future’s vision intrude.” 

The moment your hands lifted away, Death was pulled into the vision through a blinding light that made his eyes physically wince and shut almost completely. 

He stands atop a platform with a swirling current beneath him in the depths, energies that soar in a churning well. He feels himself fall, the wind tousling his hair and against his naked face, his mask no longer one with him, a calming serene comes over him but through it, he continues to fall as he’s then consumed by hot, molten fire. The force of impact fractures the world around him as he lands amidst the Kingdom of Man. 

Death shoves his weight back, catching himself abruptly by the skin of his bandaged and braced hands with a hiss and his chest rises and falls quickly. The third kingdom. Did he… gaze into the future of the apocalypse?

“I trust you will not say what it is you saw,” you say, languidly grasping the leviathan’s eye and the moment the orb is plucked from the swirl of flames, they flourish with that bright yellow and orange, painting the tent with its warm colour once more. The reaper watches you silently return the eye to its place at the altar and then face him, your eyes narrowed slightly but your smirk still ever present. 

“What… did you do to me?” he growls only for you to raise a hand. “I did nothing. I merely… hold the door open for the future and present to meet.” 

Death pushes himself to his feet and takes hold of his scythes the moment you take another advancing step towards him. “Don’t you dare come any closer, witch!”

Your lips purse into an ‘o’ shape. “Ooh, that’s a new one,” you scoff. The raised threat of his blade that’s poised directly at you is one you show the absence of fear for. Not a single, weary flinch of your body nor casted glance. 

How were you so calm in the presence of Death? 

“What are you?” 

“I am many things.” Your hand coasts down the middle of your ever revealing sternum, only pausing at the fabric of your belt that wraps around your waist. You cock a teasing brow at the reaper when you notice how his eyes follow your hands. “Some… which you are not ready to know.”

You hum a soft tune, a long-since gone lullaby robbed from you the day they burned your family on those pyres. You chuckle and tickle your fingers, wriggling them along the blade’s edge, creeping closer to him. “You’re cute when you’re scared, Reaper.”

Death’s eyes widened and that translucent layer that hides a faint pupil shrinks. His body falls back and under the poison of your magic, his hands go numb. He’s powerless as the scythes in his hands drop to his side and his body falls back suddenly on a pile of pooled blankets and cushions, teleported to another space of the tent within the blink of an eye. You lower yourself to straddle his lap. The drapes of your robes fall loosely down your shoulders, revealing the bareness of your skin and chest further. Death squints his eyes at you, warning you. 

“Samael has told me many things about you, Pale Rider. And I must say… you have my intimate intrigue,” you purr lowly. You raise your hand to once again rake your nails down the mouthless shell of his mask and he hisses, jerking his head away from you. “I’ve always wondered what’s under there~” 

“And you never will,” he seethes. Death grabs hold of your wrists and you cutely gasp before he flips you over and stands up from the pile. You coo and pout after him as he walks away. Death storms out of the tent, shoving aside the flaps with an angered ruffled that almost tears them down but he is chased after by the whistle of your words, even as he mounts Despair and rides off into the realm, through the Crimson Forest. 

“I’ll be seeing you around in a century or two, Horseman. Of that… my master promises.”

Your dark magic knows no bounds truly. And you find yourself eager to supplant yourself as his new haunter now that, unknown to him, he has an open wound in which you can manifest. You’ll be making yourself very well acquainted with the Horseman soon enough.

[pupsmailbox]

HALLOWEEN ID PACK

NAMES︰ abraham. abraxas. adam. adrian. adrienne. alaric. alfred. alistair. amity. ann. annabelle. apple. arawn. ash. avaric. azazel. azrael. azriel. barnabas. belladonna. berry. blair. blaize. blake. blanche. boq. brain. bram. bridgette. bronwen. burton. candi. candy. caradoc. carmilla. carrie. casper. cassia. castor. choco. claire. clarice. claudia. cole. coraline. corbin. crimson. cuthbert. damien. damon. daphne. dark. debra. dexter. draco. dracula. drake. duncan. ebony. edgar. elena. eli. elphaba. elvira. ember. estelle. eve. eye. fable. fang. fergus. finn. fiyero. frankenstein. freddie. freddy. frederick. george. ghost. ghoul. giles. glinda. griffin. grimm. gummy. hades. hallorann. hallow. hawthorne. heath. heathcliff. hecate. hekate. hela. hemlock. henry. ichabod. igor. ike. ivan. jack. jason. jasper. josette. knox. layla. lazarus. lenore. lester. licorice. lilith. lolly. lucinda. luella. luna. lunette. mab. malcolm. marnie. mary. matilda. mike. mikey. mina. morgan. morgana. mortimer. nancy. neoma. nessarose. nimue. norman. obsidian. onyx. orenda. orion. osiris. othello. pandora. payne. peach. perdita. poe. poison. pumpkin. radcliff. raven. reese. remus. renwick. requiem. rhiannon. romero. rosalie. rosemary. ross. ruby. rune. ruth. saber. sabrina. sage. salem. sally. sam. samhain. scarlett. sebastian. semyazza. seth. sibyl. sid. sirius. stella. stephen. sylvia. tabitha. thackery. trick. twila. twilight. udolpho. vamp. vampire. vanellope. vespera. victor. victoria. viktor. vincent. vlad. voltaire. wanda. wednesday. wendy. werewolf. wes. wesley. wilhelmina. willow. winifred. winter. wolf. wren. xander. zelda.

PRONOUNS︰ attic/attic. bat/bat. bell/bell. black/black. blood/blood. bone/bone. boo/boo. cabre/macabre. candle/candle. candy/bar. candy/candy. candybar/candybar. carve/carve. cavity/cavity. cem/cemetery. chaos/chaos. choco/chocola. claw/claw. co/coffin. costume/costume. crim/crimson. cry/crypt. dark/dark. darkroom/darkroom. demon/demon. devil/devil. dread/dreadful. end/ender. eve/eve. fair/fair. fang/fang. fest/festival. flick/flick. ghost/ghost. ghoul/ghoul. grem/gremlin. grim/grim. grue/gruesome. hallo/ween. hallow/hallow. hallow/halloween. halloween/halloween. haunt/haunt. haunted/haunted. hay/hayride. hex/hex. hide/hide. howl/howl. imp/imp. mis/mischeif. mon/monster. monster/monster. myst/mystery. para/normal. poi/poison. poison/poison. polter/geist. prank/prank. pum/pumpkin. pump/kin. pump/pumpkin. pumpkin/pumpkin. scare/crow. scream/scream. shriek/shriek. skel/skeleton. skeleton/skeleton. skull/skull. so/soul. spider/spider. spirit/spirit. spook/spook. spooky/spooky. static/static. sweet/sweet. tale/tale. thrill/thriller. tomb/tomb. treat/treat. tri/trick. trick/treat. trick/trick. trickster/trickster. vamp/vamp. vamp/vampire. vampire/vampire. venom/venom. voi/void. web/web. werewolf/werewolf. witch/witch. wolf/wolf. zomb/zomb. zombie/zombie. ⚰️. 🍁. 🍂. 🍫. 🍬. 🍭. 🎃. 👻. 💀. 💚. 💜. 🕯. 🕷. 🕷️. 🕸. 🖤. 🦇. 🦴. 🧡.

[sentfromwolves]

Thanks so much for the tag, @maddstermind!! I love find the word tag games. >:3 I'm going to be doing this for HBABL!

The words I got were: greeting, scream, pendant, and junk!

◈—« greet/ing » HIS BODY A BROKEN LAW ; Chapter Four

A face emerged from the writhing mass of rat bodies in front of him, a pale white apparition with lidless crimson eyes that bled the sclera scarlet, pale pink lips pulling back to reveal rows and rows of jagged teeth.  “Now, now,” the demon infesting the rats purred, “is that any way to greet a friend?”  Pain exploded over Nemesis’s calf, a harder, fiercer force than all the rest, like enamel tearing straight through his skin to his muscle, and slicing that too. He disappeared beneath the surface of the tide, a million rodents writhing all around him, dragging Nemesis down into the dark. 

◈—« scream » HIS BODY A BROKEN LAW ; Chapter Sixteen

“Nemesis,” Judge snarled behind him, but beyond all his anger, Nemesis could sense the fear in him too. Horror and agony and confusion—the final destination of any beast backed into the corner of a cage. “Nemesis—wait—”  His voice cut off into a roar of anguish as the demon prowling around him lunged again, the air bloating with the scent of fresh spilled blood. Nemesis heard flesh tear, bones crack and shatter. Nemesis heard Judge scream, all that agony becoming unbearable. 

◈—« pendant » HIS BODY A BROKEN LAW ; Chapter Two

“I know.” The demon smirked. “I know you’re not. But how’s this instead? We make an old-fashioned kinda deal. Something simple, the kind we shake hands on, nothing more.” Nemesis paused halfway through wrangling off his other boot to hurl at the demon’s head. Suspicion snarled up his spine, but something stopped it stupidly in its tracks. Not hope. Nemesis wasn’t stupid enough anymore to cling onto something as reckless and deadly as that. But something. Intuition, maybe. Curiosity, fanged and sharp. He lifted his right hand, twitching his fingers. Excalibur soared free of the blazing inferno that had become the barn at his back.  By the time Nemesis caught it, the holy blade was a pendant again. He dragged the chain back around his neck, ruffled his sweaty, grimy hair, and said, “and what’s that? You know, most demons don’t exactly have hands to shake with.”

◈—« junk » HIS BODY A BROKEN LAW ; Chapter

“You say that, but you’re the demon who had us wait three hours while they made two hundred burgers to satisfy your appetite,” Nemesis growled as he crawled over the baking leather of the backseat and stuck his head through the middle console. “You sure you aren’t just gonna puke it up by the time we get to the Mirage?”  “I think I have a far better handle on my stomach than you, little witch,” Judge purred, catching Nemesis’s chin with his claws and leaning in close. “Appreciate your concern though. This diet of junk food and jackasses ain’t exactly my style.” 

I'm going to tag @tananaphone, @juls-writes, @saintedseraph @awritingcaitlin, @k-v-briarwood, @forthesanityofstorytellers, @crwn-nrth, and anyone else who wants to do this!

Your words are: rust, ember, damp, breath, teeth. ( •̀ ω •́ )y les GOOOOO

[genshinresource]

Genshin Impact Enemy & Monster Icons (1/?) : Weekly Bosses

Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom, Shouki no Kami the Prodigal

La Signora, Eighth of the Fatui Harbingers (Crimson Witch of Embers, Rosalyne-Kruzchka Lohefalter)

Magatsu Mitake Narukami no Mikoto, Raiden no Inazuma Tono

Andrius, Dominator of Wolves

Stormterror Dvalin, Erstwhile King of the Skies

Azhdaha, Sealed Lord of Vishaps

[the-writing-mobster]

The Witch, The Judge & the 3 Card Gamble | Western

♠️

♥️

♣️

— Excerpt —

Sparks and stars… Nearly indistinguishable from each other. Each wheeling into the abyssal dome caging them on that blood-stained earth. 

The wind stood still and the world held its breath with it. And with the world, so joined The Witch. 

She held the burning pressure within her chest. Let it build up within her throat. She dared not inhale. As if the moment she did, she’d invite the night and all its spirits into her mind to torture her into the morning. 

Her chapped lips trembled as a chill ran down her backside, and a blossom of agony seared into the side of her ribs. She bitterly recounted that she’d wasted nearly half a flagon of water cleaning the torn flesh. And now her body was demanding even more warmth to offer some form of comfort against the chilled desert air.

She would not give in. Not to the pain, nor her body’s oblivious demands. No. She kept her fire small; merely a few dying embers she nursed from time to time so as not to draw the attention of vagabonds who’d surely make her pay for existing.

Her soot-mixed-blood-stained hand reached over it, not only for warmth, but also control. Small bursts of faint, sage mana flickered from the cracks of her palm like heatless electricity; encasing the embers before melting back into nothing. Enough to cut the oxygen… to suffocate it… and keep her precious warmth, the only comfort she had besides her own horse, on the brink of death. 

The Witch and the Embers; kindred spirits. 

Her horse, Onyx, stood tied to the driftwood the witch sat on now. The black mare’s large head swayed near her shoulder. Soft, even breaths puffed from the mare’s velvet nostrils. Onyx’s peace was almost enough to set the witch’s mind at ease. After all, if her horse wasn’t spooked, she shouldn’t be either. 

The thought was enough for her to suck in a deep breath. 

Risk the nightmares. 

The burning ceased. Weight lifted. The embers flared as if it had been her own held breath that kept it quiet. 

Snort! 

The witch flinched as her horse reared its head and let out a soft but nervous whinny. She regretted breathing then. Her hand lifted to tangle itself into Onyx’s reigns and she hushed her horse, in an attempt at salvaging the peace that had so suddenly been shattered.

Onyx’s black face was contoured with red light like a mountain crested by the rising, crimson sun. The white’s of her inky eyes flashed against her black form. 

The witch followed the horse’s line of sight until she saw the stars on the horizon were blotted out by a shadow… All but two binary stars. 

Pricks of crimson floating in a hole in the sky. 

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