#if they worked /together/ with the rune she created

[spacedace]

It was the final hour. Doomsday at their door, with only hours left before the world was consumed entirely and every last living thing was devoured right along with it.

Summoning the High King of the Infinite Realms was the only option left, and even then felt more like choosing a firing squad rather than a noose at the end of the day. Pariah Dark might - might - accept the task of destroying the foe they faced, but tmit would come at a cost that was near equal to doing nothing at all. Provided the tyrannical ruler simply didn't let them all die, an entire planet dead was an entire planet to add to his endless armies.

They had to try. Stupid and suicidal as it was.

Zantanna and John worked in silence as they created the summoning circle, hands shaking and stomachs cramping as they worked under the apprehensive eyes of the rest of the League. They all understood that no matter what happened, they would all likely end up dead by the end of it. That the best case scenario meant that death was only the beginning of their problems.

Candles were lit. Insense burned. Blood spilled. Words spoken.

Nothing.

Nothing.

It failed, not so much as a flicker of magic. Which was impossible, they'd checked and confirmed a dozen times that they had the right ritual, that they were following the steps, they had done everything right way wasn't it working? What had they done wr-

"Ugh, gross is that blood?"

Elle Phantom, fifteen minuted late to the site of the ritual with both the boys Super, the most murderous Robin and a sugary abomination of an iced coffee from Starbucks, scrunched her nose in disgust as she looked at the summoning circle.

"This ritual is so out of date, where did you even find it? Wait is that Latin? Who tries to summon someone from the Ghost Zone in Latin?"

John had burned through every drop of alcohol and cigarette he owned hours ago while trying to find this bloody damn ritual and was very much not in the mood for the little hellspawn's color commentary on the process.

"I don't bloody well seeing you providing with any alternatives for summoning the Ghost King." He swore, turning away from the gremlin to tear through the ancient book he and Zantanna had discovered with the ritual inside.

There was a loud slurping noise as the undead hero sucked the last remnants of her drink through the straw. John's brow twitched, even Zantanna - who usually seemed endeared by the chaos goblin - looked at the end of her rope.

Then - "Oh, is that who you wanted to summon? Why didn't you say so?" She drifted over, handing her empty drink off to a disgruntled looking Batman, and began rummaging through the unused magival supplies left over from the - failed - summoning circle. "Here, give me like, five minutes."

John was fairly certain his head was about to explode.

"You know how to summon the Ghost King? You?"

Phantom rolled her eyes at him. "Duh, obviously."

"Obviously." Zantanna repeated, looking like she was half a moment away from having a breakdown. She didn't try to stop the ghostly girl, though, and to be fair neither was John. They were already fucked, might as well let the gremlin try her hand at it.

It took less than the five minutes Phantom had claimed she needed.

When she was done there was a significantly smaller circle on the ground. At the cardinal directions of the circle, written clockwise she'd drawn not any magical runes but instead what appeared to be the Roman Numerals for one, then two, then something akin to a sideways T with an additional mark rising upward from the long horizontal bar, then the letter L.

It had to have some kind of ancient magical significance John didn't know as Shazam made a noise like a dying goose and squeaked out the word Loss like it was a question. Phantom gave the Champion of Magic a sharp toothed grin before adding some words in a language John didn't know before she finally allowed gravity to pull her back to earth and plant her feet on the ground.

She wiped her hands together a bit dramatically, looking pleased with herself, but at that point John didn't care. He could feel the building magic, heavy and oppressive as she had begun her task. Unlike the circle he and Zantanna had attempted, this one was working.

He couldn't help thr nervous swallow he gave as Phantom then declared, with a strange amount of seriousness. "All that’s left are the words."

She took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment, and the world went utterly silent around them. This, John could feel, this was the real deal. Fuck him sideways the hellspawn was actually doing it.

Phantom's eyes opened, glowing with that bright eerie green light of her power. Another deep breath and then -

"You are my dad! You're my dad!" He watched, any scraps of hope she'd instilled in him dying an undignified death as she gave a terrible little wiggle dance while she sang(?) Off key, "Boogie woogie woogie!"

Every last person on Earth was going to die and one of John's last moments was going to be spent watching the little undead shit do the Macarena. Well fuck him, he guessed.

Then there was the sound of the veil between the world's tearing in two and the fucking Ghost King was standing in Phantom's summoning circle screaming in a screeching falsetto:

"When will you learn? When will you learn that your actions have consequences!"

You know what actually at this point John would rather the apocalypse kill him.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Little Seer

Pairing: Sihtric x reader(female) x Finan

Authors note: there was something in the air again 😅 Brainstorming and writing together with the talented and amazing @little-diable is an absolute pleasure. Thank you so much for co-writing this little story with me! 💖💖💖

Warnings: SMUT 18+, a bit of angst, the usual things

Summary: as if being Skade's sister wasn't challenge enough, you are faced with an impossible choice between two warriors, competing over your heart

Word Count: 4,8 K

You closed your eyes and inhaled the cool, crisp morning air. A fleeting aroma of freshly baked bread wafted toward you, evoking a vivid memory of work-worn hands kneading dough on a high table, so tall that your nose barely reached its surface.

"Go fetch your sister," a soft voice urged, and you giggled as a finger touched your nose, leaving a white flour mark on it.

"Skade, Skade, where are you? Mom is baking bread," you called out cheerfully, your voice ringing through the yard like a bright, joyful stream. Your small feet carried you from one building to the next.

"Shhh, what are you doing? Stop yelling! You just scared all my spirits away," an irritated hiss made you freeze in your tracks as your lively, smiling eyes met two stormy, piercing blue ones. Your face twisted into a mocking grimace as you stuck out your tongue at your sister. Her giggle was soft and sparkling, reminiscent of a tiny bell's chime, as she took your hand and you both skipped joyfully back to the house.

Long before the big wooden gates of Dunholm creaked open to welcome the small traveling party, you had already known she was approaching Dunholm. The runes never lied to you. Bound by the same blood and the same divine gift, your destinies were intricately woven together in a delicate tapestry of love and hate. You knew you couldn’t escape each other and  no matter how hard you tried to defy this fate, you had always failed.

Your palm tightened around the shaft of the Nithstang you had crafted tonight, wet and sticky with the warm blood dripping down your fingers, as you forced your eyes open. Your steps, steady and resolute, carried you to the small paddock across the inner yard, now a makeshift prison.

"Release him!" Your voice, edged with a metallic tone, carried a hint of the anger simmering deep within you. Something stirred in the shadows at the back, and a silhouette began to move closer to the bars. Two familiar, deep pools of dazzling blue met your gaze.

"You know I won't," a challenge danced on the plush lips curved into a smirk. "You should know me better by now, little sis."

"Don't make me use my power against you," you warned, your breath forming small clouds of mist as you spoke, casting a shimmering, translucent veil over your sister's face and giving it a mysterious glow.

"You wouldn't dare," Skade smirked, tilting her head defiantly.

"You leave me no choice," you replied, not with anger but with a surge of resolve. With a loud cry, you swung the Nithstang high into the air, driving it deep into the ground to face the place where your sister was imprisoned.

Your love for her was deeply rooted in every fibre of your being, yet you despised the monster she had become, transformed by power-hungry men who sought to use her for their own ascension. It was this profound care for her, this need to protect her even from herself, that had driven you to carve the ancient runes into the wood under the cover of night. The power of love was stronger than the power of hate, yet your sister, as mighty as she might be, still failed to recognize this simple truth.

Fear and caution had long been your constant companions, often mingled with respect, but genuine fascination and appeal seldom visited your life. You struggled to suppress your smile as you constantly felt two pairs of eyes almost burning into your back each time when you turned away.

The dark brown eyes exuded warmth, strength, and protectiveness, creating a comforting presence that seemed to envelop you each time you entered the great hall. The peculiar, mismatched eyes sparkled with mischief and curiosity, radiating a sense of possessiveness. They darted around the room, absorbing every detail, as if laying claim to every word you spoke and every move you made.

An Irish-accented voice, rich and booming, reached you near the stream just as you were about to lift the heavy buckets brimming with water. "May I help you?"

"Thank you, that's very kind," you replied with a smile, watching the sturdy, well-built Irishman effortlessly lift your load and nod for you to lead the way.

To break the somewhat awkward silence, you inquired, "How's Lord Uhtred?"

"He's well, thanks to you, lady. On the way here, I had my doubts he'd even make it," the warrior replied, his voice thick with genuine worry and care. The soothing quality of his words made you turn and cast a warm smile back at him while noticing his shoulders straighten and his eyes light up with a friendly glow.

Having seen him spar before, it was clear that beneath his somewhat soft and pappy shell lay a core of steel, marked by agility and resolve.

"Lady, I was looking for you..." greeted a cheerful voice accompanied by a bright smile at the steps before your hut. "I... I was riding out the horses, and there, in the meadow, I thought of you when I saw these," stammered the young, handsome Dane, revealing a bouquet of wildflowers he had been hiding behind his back. His gaze quickly shifted to his feet.

The bouquet was not a mere haphazard cluster; it was artfully arranged—a vibrant swirl of colours with bright yellow flowers at the centre, gently transitioning to soft pink and white ones around the edges, framed by green leaves.

"They are beautiful, thank you so much, Sihtric," you said, your eyes widening in surprise. Your fingers lightly brushed against his as you accepted the flowers, inhaling their sweet scent. A muffled scoff from behind made you bury your face deeper into the bouquet to hide your amused smirk upon seeing Finan roll his eyes in annoyance.

"Lady, let me..." Sihtric hurriedly ascended the few steps and swung the door open for you, you stepped inside and Sihtric followed you, letting the door close just before Finan could enter. You turned to him with a surprised smile and, hearing Finan’s disgruntled curse behind the door, Sihtric quickly opened it again to let in the visibly annoyed Irishman.

"Please put the buckets there," you directed, pointing to a wooden bench in the corner while turning to fetch a vase for the flowers from the cupboard.

The sound of shuffling feet and muffled murmurs behind you indicated that both warriors were hesitant to leave. As you turned to face them, Finan spoke first, "I... I placed the buckets on the bench... I..." He scratched the back of his head, his eyes darting around the room, seemingly searching for something to say.

"Oh, your door is half ajar; it needs fixing," Sihtric suddenly exclaimed. "I'll fetch some tools and be right back."

"You've never held a hammer and nail in your life, you don’t even know what they look like, and now you want to pretend you can fix a door?" Finan scoffed, clearly upset he hadn’t noticed the issue first.

Sihtric hurried off to fetch the tools, leaving Finan behind, still bristling from the earlier mishap and determined not to be outdone by the young Dane. “I can fix that just fine without his help,” Finan muttered, eyeing the slightly ajar door as if it were a direct challenge to his capabilities.

When Sihtric returned, he clumsily carried a bundle of tools wrapped in cloth. Finan was already examining the door, squinting critically. “Here, let me show you how it’s done,” Sihtric announced with a confident swagger, setting the bundle down with a thud.

The two warriors stood side by side, peering at the assortment of tools, which included a couple of misshapen awls and a few worn hammers. “This one looks about right,” Sihtric said, picking up an awl with an uncertain glance.

“That’s not how you hold it, give it here,” Finan scoffed, snatching the tool and holding it upside down. You watched, amused, as they fumbled, each trying to outdo the other with bravado that was clearly unfounded.

“Here, you need to tighten the hinges,” Sihtric suggested.

“No, the alignment’s off. It needs a new hole,” Finan countered, eyeing the frame as if he could will it into compliance.

Sihtric attempted to use a hammer, gently tapping around the hinge as if coaxing it to tighten by itself. Meanwhile, Finan, now wielding an awl, tried to carve a new hole in the wood, his efforts resulting in a crooked and unnecessary indentation.

The result was a door that hung even more awkwardly than before. 

“You know, maybe we should just ask the carpenter in the village,” Sihtric finally conceded, stepping back to examine their handiwork, which looked worse than when they started.

Finan, though reluctant to admit defeat, nodded in agreement. “Let’s just say woodworking isn’t our calling,” he said, chuckling awkwardly.

You couldn’t help but laugh at their earnest but bungled efforts, appreciating the entertainment, if not the craftsmanship. “I think that’s wise,” you agreed, still smiling. “But thank you both for trying. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

Everything went quiet suddenly, with just shy glances and nervous shuffling of feet filling the air. It was getting awkward, but it was obvious neither warrior wanted to leave. The question in their eyes was so clear and so charming that this time, you couldn't help but let a grin slip.

Their fondness for you was apparent, neither attempting to conceal it, as they'd been playfully fighting for your attention for a week now, and you'd be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying it. The two warriors were as different as fire and water, their contrasting energies sparking against each other with every word and gesture. 

You really appreciated how Finan always looked out for you, always there to lend a hand, careful and attentive. His support was rock solid, his eyes always warm, and he never missed a chance to gently tease you.

Then there was Sihtric, with his wild, spontaneous streak that drew you in just as much. He’d show up at all sorts of odd times with flowers, or suddenly appear at your hut with a huge smile and a basket full of goodies, just because he’d found the perfect spot on a nearby hill to catch the sunset. No matter how tired you were, his laughter and sheer joy were contagious, always managing to sweep you up in another adventure.

Both warriors truly brightened up your life, even helping you momentarily forget the deep worry your sister's presence constantly evoked. As time passed, it was clear Uhtred was committed to his decision to stay with his brother, which only seemed to make the boys more hopeful whenever they looked your way. But what really amazed you was something quite rare, something you hadn’t seen before—even with their ongoing competition for your attention, their friendship didn’t waver—not even a bit.

They were both waiting for you to make a choice between them. And honestly, as much as you wanted to decide, making up your mind just seemed impossible.

Stars were twinkling in the sky as you rolled your head back, letting the river run through your hair as you took your bath. Darkness wrapped itself around you like a veil, hidden from the drunken men you didn’t want to cross paths with, the nosy fighters who’d give a lot for a good look at your naked frame. 

Your body had ached as you found your way down to the river, desperate for some moments alone, away from the confusion of being close to Sihtric and Finan pushed through you and the confusion your sister managed to push through your veins with every rising of the sun. It was a steady back and forth you should be all too used to by now. 

“Here’s good!” The raspy voice echoed through the air, dripping with his Irish accent while forcing your eyes away from the sky to watch the two men walk closer. For a moment, you didn’t move, letting your curious eyes watch the two as you waited for them to notice you. But Finan and Sihtric kept undressing, not picking up on your closeness just now.

“It’s not very honourable of you to disturb a woman’s bath, now is it?” Humour flushed through you as you spoke the word, chasing the protection the dark water offered. Only your head and throat were visible, hiding the body both Finan and Sihtric had been imagining the past days, chasing highs with their minds solemnly focused on you. 

“Apologies, lady.” SIhtric stumbled over his words, drawing a loud laugh from you as you kept on watching them. 

“Would you mind some company?” It was a bold question the Irishman asked, knowing that this could take an ugly turn. Perhaps it was the mead flushing through your system, perhaps it was the thrilling coldness of the river, whatever it was, it forced your mouth open once again, giving room to your words rolling off your tongue. 

“If you can behave, I wouldn’t mind your company, no.” The hum leaving Finan seemed to snap Sihtric out of his trance, averting his gaze as the two kept undressing. For some more seconds, you allowed yourself to study their muscular frames, a sight that left you trembling with heat pooling between your thighs before you eventually let your eyes wander back up to the sky. 

“It’s a beautiful sight, aye.” Finan’s voice wrapped itself around you as he moved closer, marvelling at the starry sky. Even though you kept your eyes focused on the sky, you couldn’t help but focus on the heat he emanated – a heat that only grew stronger as Sihtric also stepped towards you. “But we are fortunate men, us two, we don’t have to look that far for a beautiful sight.”

The words left you laughing, unable to bite down your smile as you turned towards the two men. Mischief was swimming in their pupils, it seemed as if whatever back-and-forth they had felt between one another had found some end, a compromise perhaps. Whatever it was, it drew them even closer, giving you the chance to pull away before overstepping any boundaries 

“Others may no longer respect your honour if they see you here with us, lady.” Sihtric’s husky voice was about to draw a moan out of you, reminding you of the words you had imagined them to speak as you had chased your high just this morning, thinking of these two warriors now caging you between their bodies. 

“And why is that?” Slowly, you rose, exposing your naked chest to Finan, who was standing in front of you. You felt Sihtric tugging himself against your back, with his tensed abs pressing into your soft skin, with his hardening cock pressed against your behind. An unfamiliar heat took over, guiding your every moment – you were about to slip up, about to give in while your mind was silenced. And for the first time, you were alright with letting go, diving head-first into an adventure you had been dreaming of for days. 

Sihtric’s hands found your waist, keeping you pressed to him as Finan’s warm hand cupped your cheek. You could feel their breaths teasing your skin, making you feel as if you were their sacrifice, one with the fire they were about to toss you into, leaving you trembling and aching – all because of them. 

“Once you lose your honour to us, we won’t let you go again, little lady.” You scoffed at the nickname Finan used for you, a sound that was turned into a moan as Sihtric’s fingers danced down your stomach, finding their way to your pulsing bundle. The moan that clawed through you had nothing human-like to it, torn between a warrior’s cry and an animalistic growl. A sound so sinful, you felt both men chuckle; a chuckle of victory; a chuckle of excitement. 

Tonight you were theirs. Tonight you wouldn’t break free from their grasp. Not tonight. 

“Oh, gods.” The words clawed through you as Sihtric’s fingers began to move in circular motions, rubbing your bundle of nerves just enough to make the hairs at the back of your neck rise. It felt as if you were trapped by some kind of spell, chaining you to these two men who explored your body with their lips. Finan’s beard scratched your skin as he kissed your throat, dipping his head down to find your hardening nipples, all while Sihtric’s teeth teased the spot where your shoulder met your neck. 

“No gods will answer your prayers tonight, pretty lady. For now, you’re ours to play with.” Sihtric’s raspy words were about to push you over the edge, chasing your release without feeling either one of them buried deep inside of you yet. You were desperate for more, torn between different sensations that left you trembling and aching for more. 

“I want you, please.” It was pathetic almost how needy you were, too far in to pick up on the sly grin tugging on Finan’s lips, wordlessly communicating with Sihtric. 

“How do you want us?” Finan’s lips teased yours, not kissing you fully, as if he was giving you a chance to pull away. But nothing could pull you from these two, not tonight at least. Sihtric tightened his grip on you as you kept quiet, adding more pressure to his moving fingers, toying with your pulsing bundle. 

“Speak when you’re asked to, don’t play any games.” You choked on your gasps at Sihtric’s demanding command, leaving you shuddering between them. 

“Both of you, I don’t care how, I just need you.” Within moments you were shifted around, pressed down on a nearby stone to balance your body as Finan positioned himself behind you. You were close to passing out, letting your racing heart guide you as your glassy eyes wandered down Sihtric’s muscular front, straight to his twitching cock. The Dane positioned himself in front of you, fingers pulling your hair together to draw your mouth closer to him. 

“Who are we to deny a pretty lady’s wish, huh?” Finan pushed into you without another warning, tearing another moan from you that was silenced by Sihtric’s cock. Your mouth engulfed him, lips wrapped around his tip to suck on him. His taste stuck to your tongue, a taste you’d forever remember, just like the feeling of Finan finally fucking you. The Irishman didn’t grant you any mercy, he fucked you as if the Devil himself was chasing him, a sensation so strong your walls kept fluttering around him.

“What a devilish mouth for such a sweet seer.” Sihtric’s praises shot shudders down your spine and drew sounds from you that vibrated on his cock as he pushed further down your throat. You were close to seeing stars, close to letting the darkness that called your name swallow you. Tonight you didn’t care about what may happen to you. Tonight you didn’t care about losing yourself to these two handsome warriors. Tonight you were simply theirs. 

“You feel divine, lady.” Finan groaned his words as he fucked you even deeper, pressed down on the cold stone that would surely leave its marks on your body. This night would leave its bruises on you, bruises you’d forever remember, while silently hoping that they’d leave some more on your body in the upcoming days and weeks. 

Tears ran down your warm cheeks, tears of desperation and lust, drawn from your eyes by the feeling of Sihtric’s cock nudging your throat, by the feeling of Finan’s calloused fingertips rubbing your overstimulated bundle, pushing you over the edge within moments. 

Finan fucked you through your high as Sihtric groaned your name, painting your tongue and cheeks white with his release. You didn’t dare break eye contact with the handsome Dane as you swallowed, not even as you felt Finan stain your behind with his cum. It was a moment so intimate that you were sure neither Finan nor Sihtric could ever forget about it, just like you. 

The three of you were heavily panting as silence wrapped itself around you, drawing a laugh out of you as you rose back to your feet. You couldn’t help but shake your head as you studied the two for another moment, trying to accept what had just happened. 

“What’s so funny, lady?” Finan pulled you against his broad chest, grinning in success as you clung to him, wordlessly telling the two that you weren’t planning on running anytime soon. 

“I’m just happy, I think.” Your eyes wandered towards Sihtric, grinning at the man who looked at you as if you had hung up the stars in the sky yourself, a true masterpiece only a few were fortunate enough to take in. 

“We won’t let you go again, we stay true to our words.” As much as you wanted to give in, to let this dream suck you into its grasp for some more moments, you couldn’t, breaking out of your hazy trance. Carefully you stepped away from Finan to sink back into the cold water, cleaning yourself for one last time that evening. 

“Don’t make any promises, Irishman. You don’t know what’s coming upon us, it will be cruel, guided by my sister’s hands.”

The clang of weapons and the wild shouts from the crowd echoed off the walls of Dunholm, deafening you with the force of a thunderstorm. You had always been certain of the foolishness and recklessness of men, yet they continued to surprise you.

Your decision to serve Ragnar was based on his ability to listen and consider matters without letting emotions cloud his judgement—a rare trait among men. But this time was different.

Your eyes shifted, catching a glimpse of Skade at the far end of the square. How had you missed it? Distracted by a fuzzy haze of love and admiration, you hadn't noticed the spider spinning its web behind you, the viper weaving its venom into the hearts of men. Now, you were forced to watch as arrogance and false pride shattered the fragile peace you had so carefully helped to nurture.

"Are you satisfied? Do you really think this will bring you anything?" you hissed into Skade's ear.

"I’ve won, little sister. I always win, whatever it takes. There’s no turning back. Uhtred is mine. He will come to rule all Danes and Saxons; he’s been born to lead. I’ve seen that. And I'll rise with him. He's bound to me, and there's nothing you can do about it," she whispered back, her words slicing through you like the sharpest knife, reopening old wounds you had struggled to heal.

“This is no game, Skade. Stop this madness. You’ve gone too far. You took a life that wasn’t yours to claim, just to replace her. This will have consequences, and you know it. Release him and stay here with me. Please, sister,” you pleaded, knowing deep down it was likely futile, but you had to try.

There was a subtle shuffle of feet before your sister finally turned to face you. Your pleading gaze met her icy stare, the chill from her eyes almost freezing your words in midair.

“Did you enjoy the company of those two fools, calling themselves warriors?” she asked coldly, her chin lifting slightly as she tilted her head to the right, scrutinising you through her long lashes. “Tell those two hounds to stay behind, or if they're foolish enough to follow their master, tell them not to interfere with me. You know better than anyone what happens to those who get in my way.”

You couldn’t remember how you got home, the sound of the door, shutting behind you with a loud thud as you slammed your back against the gnarled wood, startling you. You slid down the door to the floor, elbows on your knees, cradling your head in your hands.

Sobs wracked your body, starting quietly and gradually becoming louder and uncontrollable, until you threw back your head, releasing a loud, desperate cry that tore through you. Yes, you knew all too well what happened when someone interfered with your sister. You knew the agony of feeling like your heart was being ripped from your chest, leaving a wound that wouldn't heal, a wound that lingered for years.

She had taken everything from you once, and without a moment’s hesitation, she would do it again. Of that, you were certain.

"Come with us," Finan urged, his large, rough palm reaching out for yours while his thumb gently traced circles on your skin.

"We will care for you, protect you," Sihtric added, his two-coloured eyes searching for yours, but you stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. You pulled your hands away from Finan’s gentle grip and, needing something to occupy them, began nervously adjusting and straightening your clothes. You shook your head, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. 

"Stay here, both of you, stay with me," you countered, finally lifting your head, your eyes pleading as they moved between Sihtric and Finan.

Silence stretching between you, Finan stepped forward first. He enveloped you in a strong embrace, his arms a fortress that for a brief moment, warded off what was about to come. As he pulled back, his hands cupped your face, and he leaned in to place a tender, lingering kiss on your lips

Sihtric, his expression a complex tapestry of regret and resolve, moved closer. His farewell was quieter, more restrained, as if he feared that any show of passion might crumble his resolve. He took your hands in his, holding them between you both, his gaze finally locking with yours. Slowly, he brought your hands to his lips, kissing them softly, his breath warm against your skin.

Words were superfluous; everything that needed to be said shimmered in the air around you, poignant and bittersweet.

“Be careful. Don’t underestimate my sister,” you finally broke the silence, “She can turn Uhtred against you.”

You saw the disbelief in their eyes and sighed deeply. “You have no idea of what she is capable of. This is just the beginning.”

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[moonselune]

Could I request a woof elf/druid tav who goes with halsin after the events of the main game and once she and halsin return to the reclaimed lands she works with a team of wizards, clerics, sorcerers, paladins, and Druids to cleanse the land from the hundreds of thousands of rotting dead bodies including the gauntlet of shar, and the mindflayer colony which they destroy with rune powder but the Blight from the seemingly endless dead bodies cause an extended sickness with symptoms such as fever, chils, cold sweats, nightmares, severe coughing, vertigo, migraines that manifests just after they finish clearing the dead bodies and when she goes home to Halsin she collapses in the entryway of their home

oooo angsty

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin x reader | Ridding the Blight

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The journey had been long and arduous, but you had expected nothing less. After the defeat of the Absolute and the final battles that shook the land, there was still a great deal of work to be done. The land had been left broken, scarred, and corrupted by the death and decay of countless fallen foes.

It was in your nature to feel the pain of the earth, to sense its suffering, and to dedicate yourself to its healing. And so, alongside Halsin, you stayed behind to help cleanse the world that had borne the brunt of such horrific conflict.

You found yourself working alongside a team of wizards, clerics, sorcerers, paladins, and other druids, all dedicated to the same goal: purifying the land, ridding it of the sickness and rot that festered after the battles. It wasn’t just the gauntlet of Shar that needed attention, though that was one of the most challenging places to cleanse. You delved into the shadowed depths, purging the lingering darkness that seeped from every crack and crevice, and in those moments, you felt the weight of that unholy place in every breath you took.

The mindflayer colony, with its grotesque, pulsing remains, required a more direct approach. You worked together with the others to strategically place barrels of rune powder, ensuring that when it was finally ignited, the entire cavern collapsed inward, taking the corruption with it. The explosion was deafening, the ground trembled, and the dark taint that clung to the air seemed to disperse, but not without leaving its mark.

The endless rotting bodies and the festering blight they spread proved to be a challenge that magic alone could not conquer. You worked tirelessly, invoking nature’s power to break down the decay, to return it to the earth as nutrients rather than poison. But it was not enough to prevent the spread of sickness that had begun to rise from the very land you sought to save.

It began as a persistent cough, one you dismissed as nothing more than the result of dust and smoke. Then came the fever, burning hot through the nights, though you tried to conceal it from the others, especially from Halsin.

You knew he had noticed—he always noticed—but he said nothing, trusting you to tell him when you were ready. But as the days turned to weeks, your strength began to fade, and the symptoms grew worse. Cold sweats drenched your skin, nightmares tore through your sleep, and vertigo left you stumbling. Still, you pressed on, refusing to rest until the work was done.

Finally, when the last of the dead had been cleansed, when the land began to show the first signs of life returning, you and Halsin made your way back to the reclaimed lands that you now called home. It was a modest cottage, surrounded by the wild beauty of the forest, a place of peace you had worked so hard to create together. But as you crossed the threshold, exhaustion overwhelmed you, and the world seemed to tilt and spin.

You barely managed to take a step inside before your vision blurred, and your legs gave way beneath you. Halsin was at your side in an instant, catching you before you hit the ground, his strong arms cradling you with a tenderness that broke through the haze of your fever.

“Easy, my heart,” he murmured, his voice a deep, soothing rumble. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

You tried to speak, to tell him you were fine, that you just needed a moment, but all that escaped was a choked cough, your body wracked with shivers. Halsin’s brow furrowed with concern, his eyes flickering over you, taking in the flush of fever across your cheeks, the tremors that ran through your limbs. He scooped you up without a word, carrying you over to the bed and laying you down with infinite care.

“Halsin, I’m—” you began, but he hushed you gently, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“Shh, don’t speak,” he said softly. “You’ve pushed yourself too hard. Rest now. Let me take care of you.”

You tried to protest, to tell him that you could manage, that you didn’t want to be a burden, but as his hand moved to brush the hair from your face, the warmth of his touch melted your resolve. You leaned into him, allowing yourself to finally let go, the pain and exhaustion catching up to you all at once.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Halsin asked quietly, his thumb tracing the line of your cheek, his eyes filled with worry.

You swallowed, the effort painful, and managed to whisper, “Didn’t want to worry you. There was so much to be done…”

“And yet, you would carry this burden alone?” he chided gently, though there was no anger in his tone—only sadness and love. “You are not alone, my heart. You never have to be.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the reality of your sickness crashing over you now that you had finally allowed yourself to feel it.

“I didn’t want to fail,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I didn’t want to be weak.”

Halsin leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“You are not weak,” he said firmly. “You are the strongest person I know. But even the strongest must rest, must heal. And I will be here to help you do that, every step of the way.”

You clung to him then, the dam breaking as sobs wracked your body, and Halsin held you, murmuring soft reassurances, his presence anchoring you as the sickness raged inside. He stayed with you through the fever’s worst, cooling your skin with damp cloths, holding you through the nightmares, and whispering words of love and encouragement when the coughing fits left you gasping for breath.

As the days passed, you slowly began to heal, the symptoms fading little by little, and with Halsin by your side, you found the strength to face them. He never wavered, never left you, his love and care a constant light in the darkness.

And as the blight that had taken root in your body began to recede, you knew, with absolute certainty, that no matter how difficult the road ahead might be, Halsin would be there with you to walk it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Little bit of an angst snippet for y'all hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[paeliae-occasionally]

Hello! Intro Post.

Hi, so I’ve been hanging around for a while now, but I have recently started posting more so I have decided to write an intro.

Online I go by Pae, (or Pae pae) I am non-binary. (they/them) and I write and draw.

Current WIPs

Blue Posts are the essentials of you want to send me an ask , or if you just want an intro to the blog.

Pink are my personal favourites.

I’m doing 12 days of Christmas asks here!

Scenes

Memory and death

Marsh Prison scene

Lore stuff:

Magic

Magic Systems

The history of the runes

More runes lore

Culture

The mages immortality lore

The death realms

The gardens

Languages

The Druids

The Mulai’Kaleppi

The Opyri

The Tiel’Drysar

(More Necromancy)

The lighthouse keepers

Laith’Zairel

Gods Culture

History

The blood wars

Blood wars 2

The mist war

The Separation, Dissolution and Accords

Maps

-Laith’Emeris 1

-Laith’Emeris 2

-30BD map

-Laith’Zairel

-How I make maps (continents)

Join the Tag List~

Summaries:

Paeliae - Magic politician

A mage living in the period when the god vs mages war starts. (8 BD, before dissolution) He is a politician, despite having no patience for the ages old elvish mages who currently run the council. He is obsessed with leaving a lasting legacy even if that means dying today. As such he is vehemently against the concept of immortality, During the war he helps negotiate with the gods to come to a truce. 27, He/Him.

Xaeren - Runic Inventor

Xaeren designed 42 of the 47 runes and uses them to protect himself from the vengeful goddess Schaeres. When she finally attacks him, Xaeren realises there were very few limits to what he could do with the runes and sets out to kill Schaeres, both as payback and just to prove that he can. But some things can’t be done alone…

Xaeren lore 1

Xaeren lore 2- (This is a bit old so some of the Kell stuff has changed)

Xaeren lore 3

Kell - Magic Student

Xaeren rescues her from a small dock town and gets her a place at the Lysandri school of magic. Kell is thrust into a world of magic and has to keep up with the help of Xaeren’s tutoring, but as she begins to fit in with the mages there, her loyalty to the criminal godkiller Xaeren comes into question.

Tyro - Traumatised Sorcerer

lives in the modern day (about 1500 PD, post-dissolution). They have recently escaped from the abusive cult that adopted them as a child, with their adoptive brother Apollo. They are a sorcerer, so have born magic, but also we’re taught to use runes by the cult. They never used them because of trauma but they could if they wanted to. They are currently running from the cult and trying not to be noticed by the government, who take in all sorcerer children so they can have a monopoly on magic. They have found a family in some other sorcerers living in an abandoned manor outside the city. 17, They/them

Apollo - adopted older brother of Tyro.

He took care of them and the others in the cult, despite being abused severely himself. Despite the trauma he is a very powerful runic. He is currently being attacked by, and looking for other cults like the one he was adopted into to help other children like him. 21, He/They

Ez and Rin (~1000 BD)- The gay bois, who definitely don’t start the apocalypse.

Ez (short for Ezemhaziel) is the god of refined magic. He falls in love with Rin when he is researching to create the runes. He is somewhat of a Prometheus figure, as he brings the first magic to mortals by teaching Rin.

Rin is a gardener working for one of the altic kings, who equally loves Ez for his magic and creativity. Ez and Rin end up working on the runes together. The other gods get mad that Ez gave magic to a mortal, and they let the mortals murder Rin. Ez is mad. This will spiral and cause the start of the godly war, which then ushers in the godly mages war, where 3/4 of all mages die and the gods are removed from the world.

Ezemhaziel lore

Daimion and Marsh - the regretful and the merry murderer

Daimion and marsh grew up together being trained for an elite military unit, which they both got into. While in the unit they are ordered to fire on civilians and they do it, but later Daimion regrets killing innocents and leaves the unit without notice. He goes on to find the daughter of one of the people he murdered that day and the woman who has been taking care of her. He protects them fiercely and tries to make up for what he did. Marsh however, fully commits to the ‘I kill people as a job, I might as well enjoy it’ and ends up being so recklessly violent that he is imprisoned in the highest security jail in the country, which he later breaks out of to commit a massacre, then returns to his cell like nothing happened. This occurs a couple of times until Daimion has to go get him. - Marsh intro - Marsh lore

Just a brief overview of some of the things I am currently working on. I plan to post more about the magic systems and historical events of the world. I also post maps.

Feel free to ask me about this, and tag me in games. Interact here to join the tag list:

Tag List~

Thanks for visiting, feel free to stick around <3

[romione-trope-fest]

Call It What You Want - Romione Hidden Relationship

Title: Call It What You Want

Author: adenei

Selected Trope: Fake NOT Dating (Hidden Relationship)

Brief Summary: In a world where there is no Voldemort, Hogwarts is just an ordinary school for witchcraft and wizardry. The Golden Trio still pass through its hallowed halls for their seventh year, but not as you’d expect. Hermione Granger, of Ravenclaw is—naturally—Head Girl, and Ron Weasley, of Gryffindor, was named alongside her as Head Boy. It’s everything Hermione’s ever dreamed of, except there’s one small problem. After a falling out in fifth year, Hermione and Ron don’t get along. Or so everyone thinks.

Word Count: 2,771 (Chapter 1 of a multichapter story)

Rating: T

TW: None

This is not how tonight was supposed to go.

Hermione rubs her temples with the thumb and middle finger of her left hand, squeezing her eyes shut. Blots of ink drip from the tip of the quill in her right hand, hovering over the box labeled ‘7 November’ on the magically duplicated parchment, soaking through and threatening to stain the old maple of the worn desk. There are other things she’d like to be doing against this desk right now instead of creating the rounds schedule like the dutiful Head Girl she is. Like writing her Ancient Runes essay. 

Yes, her Runes essay is exactly what she’d rather be doing. Not this stupid round schedule that she shouldn’t even be completing alone. The Head Boy should be helping. The Head Boy who should also be back by now. The one she’s been daydreaming about for the last thirty minutes. Visions of him shoving everything off the smooth desktop to lay her down on it so they can—nope. That’s definitely not what she’d rather be doing instead.

She sets down the quill, bunches up the parchment and tosses it in the bin. “Ugh. This is stupid.”

The whole thing is stupid, really. Hermione swore to herself she’d play this whole thing cool. She can manage ‘cool’, right? It shouldn’t be hard. 

Yet here she is, fixating on him, the boy who’s always intent on letting her down. Who can’t even bother being on time after he said he would.

Empty promises. 

Maybe this is a bad idea, after all.

She pushes the wooden chair with leather upholstery out from the desk and escapes into her bedroom. There’s no point in staying in her uniform anymore. Tonight’s assigned Prefects are already on duty. It’s not like they’re going to come and request assistance. Hermione doesn’t know why she bothers to stay dressed until at least ten every evening.

I know why.

God, she hates the singsong voice taunting her mind. She will not think about the other reasons she’s still dressed in her uniform. How the tie makes it easy for him to pull her close. How the white button-up shirt is translucent enough to pique his imagination, making it impossible for him to hide his desire. How the loose pleated skirt can offer easy access for him to—

Nope. I said we weren’t going there. 

Plus, it’s not like she’s let things go that far. Though, she wonders if that could possibly be the reason she’s so fixated on her desire right now. Maybe she needs to experience the release and then she can not be so wound up for no damn reason. Because she’s being ridiculous—she needs to get it together. When has Hermione Granger ever let her thoughts distract her to this level of being completely incapable of doing anything?

She pulls out her comfiest pair of blue plaid pajama bottoms and a matching black vest with Ravenclaw’s crest on the upper right chest. Once she’s slipped off her skirt and replaced it with the worn-in, faded fabric, she works slowly at the buttons of her shirt. Is she going to fully turn-in for the evening? Does she really not want to see him at all? Can she fall asleep without knowing why he blew her off?

With fingertips grazing the front clasp of her periwinkle bralette, she ultimately decides to leave it for now. She’s not quite ready to shut him out tonight. Not yet. She’ll give him thirty more minutes while she reads by the fire.

Still, there’s a voice in the back of her mind trying to convince her to just shut and lock her door. ‘Ice him out. Give him the silent treatment.’ But she wants the satisfaction of seeing him squirm as he tries to make some half-arsed excuse as to why he’s late. 

Clearly, he’s not taking his duties seriously—not taking her seriously. What a typical Gryffindor. What on earth was Professor McGonagall thinking?

Hermione swipes the novel she’s currently reading off of her nightstand and stomps back out to the common area, plopping down on the sofa in front of the fireplace. She doesn’t even need the wool blue and bronze blanket draped over the back because the fire manages to keep the small room so warm—almost too warm.

Well, something needs to keep me warm tonight.

She tries desperately to get lost in her book. It takes longer than necessary, but eventually, the plot takes a turn, drawing her in with the promise of a mysterious prince taking interest in the stubborn, independent main character who is out to prove that she doesn’t need a man to complete her.

And naturally, once she’s sucked into the witty banter of the main characters, there’s a soft click that echoes across the mostly empty space as the door opens and shuts. In walks the bane of her existence, forehead glistening with what she assumes to be sweat; the tips of his red fringe wet.

Eyes peering over the top of her book—and against her better judgment—she drinks him in as he kicks off his standard broom-riding leather boots. Damn him for bending over and showing off the sculpted muscles of his arse in those tight khaki pants. And damn her for all but drooling over it. It’s like he knows she’s going to be pissed and needs to break her resolve. The red and gold jersey doesn’t help either, given that it threatens to rip open any time his arms flex. How she’d love to grab it by the number ‘two’ plastered on his back and rip it off of him so it’ll stop turning her on when she’s supposed to be mad at him.

Yes, because getting him shirtless is going to help the anger situation.

Hermione forces her eyes back to the book, but still catches the way he beams his stupid lopsided smile at her when he finally turns around. Why does he have to be so cocky and confident and put together all the freaking time? Even when he’s not, he still manages to pull off ‘effortless’ like it’s nothing. She should be lucky he wants to spend time with her at all, given he’s so out of her league.

Sure, pair the brainy little Ravenclaw with the jocky Gryffindor fuckboy. Dumbledore probably had a right laugh making that decision. They get along fine. Ha. That’s what he thinks. Of course, they used to, before he did the one thing that fucked everything up fifth year.

Stop. Things have been fine so far. More than fine. I’m sure he has a perfectly good excuse for why he’s—

“Hey.” He breaks her out of her spiral. “Sorry I’m late. Practice ran a little over, then I thought I’d hit the Prefects Bathroom to shower before heading—”

Hermione huffs a little too loudly. 

“What?”

“Save it, Ron. I don’t need your excuses.”

“It’s…not? Demelza would not let up tonight. She wanted the Chasers to perfect this play and begged me to stay an extra twenty minutes.”

She raises an eyebrow and allows her gaze to settle on him, searching for sincerity in the striking cornflower blue of his eyes. Ugh, she hates how those eyes can damn near melt her with a single heated look, much like the one he’s giving her now. Like he knows what she’s about to say, but is challenging her to do it anyway.

And naturally, she does. “Right. So, then you needed a, what, thirty minute shower? In the Prefects Bathroom, no less, when you could have come straight here?”

Even though he’s goading her and should be fully expecting it, his jaw still drops. He folds his arms, and—ugh, for Merlin’s sake she needs to stop staring at the contours of his chest—shakes his head slightly. A scoff escapes his throat.

“You don’t believe me.”

“Do you really expect me to? It’s okay, you can tell me if you got mauled by your groupies. I can’t imagine having a fan club follow me around like the sun shines out of my—”

“I do not have groupies. Those fourth and fifth years are always after Harry.”

“Right—”

“And I’m not lying to you.”

“Of course you’re not. Because the first thing I always like to do after taking a shower is put on the sweaty clothes I just stripped off to get clean from.” She shoves the bookmark in her book and slams it down on the sofa as she finally stands to face him.

The frustration in his eyes shifts as soon as the words come tumbling out of her mouth. She’s not even sure if he’s still listening, given the way his eyes flit down to her heaving chest. Unabashed desire falls over his face as his eyes darken and the corner of his lip curls upward. For a split second, she wonders what could possibly possess his face to transform that way. Because it’s not entirely want. If it was, she doesn’t think they’d be standing this far apart. 

Studying his expression a little longer, she wills her mind to connect the dots. She knows that look from somewhere. But…where? And then the familiarity suddenly hits her. It’s the face he makes when he finds the checkmate.

Nice try, Weasley, but you’re not winning this one.

It’s beyond annoying, not to mention ridiculous. There’s no way he can win this. Her logic is sound and his story doesn’t line up. If he thinks he’s going to get out of this one, she’d like to see him try. 

He takes a step closer, but remains on the other side of the sofa. His arms relax as his hands grip the back of the sofa while he stares intently at her. “You know I have two practice jerseys right?”

“No,” she responds automatically before her eyes go wide. 

She purses her lips and is tempted to stand down, but she refuses. Hermione Granger does not back down from a fight. Even if she knows what’s coming and he’s got her cornered. As much as she doesn’t want to, there’s nothing left to do but brace herself for the inevitable checkmate and prepare for a rematch.

“Mental, isn’t it? Having more than one? I mean, I could see why you’d think that—most players offer their jerseys to girlfriends or boyfriends to wear as support during matches. But considering our first match isn’t for another month, I haven’t given mine away yet. It’s still sitting in my Prefect locker—well, it was. You haven’t forgotten we have those too, have you?”

Her nostrils flare. She hates the way he gloats. “No,” she spits, knowing he won’t go on until she acknowledges the question. 

“Yeah, well, you were right, though. I was a sweaty mess and didn’t want to come back looking like that. But I also know how much you like the uniform, so…it seemed like the perfect solution.”

Her jaw twitches. Okay, so he wasn’t off with another girl. Not that she really thought he would be anyway. She supposes maybe she’s just overcompensating—desperate to hear him say he only has eyes for her. But that would be delusional. 

Just because they do, in fact, work well together, and they happen to have an agreement in place, doesn’t mean he’s going to be that forward. Besides, he clearly isn’t as serious as she is about their agreement given his tardiness—which further reiterates her decision to take things slow—and that’s precisely what she hones in on next.

“Yes, well, it’s already well past nine, and if you happen to recall, we were supposed to start the Round schedule for November tonight.”

“I’m aware.” His hands clench and Hermione’s gaze follows as the tightness ripples up his forearms, through his biceps to his neck and jaw.

Satisfied she’s swiped the relaxed, cocky demeanor out from beneath him, she’s certain she’ll take the next win. “Well, I don’t particularly appreciate having all the work shoved on me. Just because I’m a Ravenclaw with a high work ethic and the need to have everything organized and done weeks in advance does not mean I will be picking up your slack by completing it on my own.”

And he doesn’t need to know that I almost did, either.

“Hermione, who says I’m shoving the work off on—it’s October fifteenth—”

She cuts him off. “And we promised McGonagall a draft by Monday! Just because I can manage my schedule does not mean I’ll be bailing you out. The Heads are supposed to work together. It’s not my fault you’ve got Quidditch and Chess and all your classes to account for. I’m busy too, you know. I’ve got a heavy NEWT load, and can’t lose precious study time working on schedules by myself because you’re too busy playing Gryffindor’s savior on the pitch.”

“Are you seriously going to hold that team meeting on the Express over my head all year? I told you it wouldn’t be long and I’d be back to help. No one asked you to make the first week’s schedule on your own. I wanted to help.”

Hermione throws up her hands and turns to head to her room. “I’m not holding anything against you. I’m just saying, if I’m not important—if this isn’t important—then maybe we should rethink—”

Ron’s large, warm, freckly hand grabs hers and spins her around before he backs her into the frame of the door, his body flush against hers. It nearly knocks the wind right out of her lungs. Her spine is so erect that she almost doesn’t notice how her chest is pushed out, but when she tilts her head up to meet his gaze, she realizes very quickly that he does.

“You are important. But we have an image to maintain, remember? The one we agreed on? I couldn’t exactly tell my teammates to sod off because I had somewhere to be. They probably thought they were doing me a favor, keeping me later.”

It’s all she can do not to let her eyelids flutter shut as his hot breath hits her cheek. He definitely showered, all right. The warm, spiced scent of his soap invades her senses, and suddenly it’s difficult to think of anything else.

“I guess,” she concedes.

His knuckles graze her hips before blazing a tantalizing trail up her sides. It’s slow. It’s sensual. It’s everything she’s ever dreamed of. Eventually, his fingers tangle in her hair as his palms cup her face. Twenty-nine days and counting and she’s still not used to it. She doesn’t think she’ll ever be.

But before she lets herself get lost in his touch, his smell, his gaze, she notices his face split into a wide grin. He’s got one more trick up his sleeve, but at this point she doesn’t care. She just wants to feel his lips on hers. Because fourteen hours and three minutes—give or take—is far too long since the last time.

“By the way, if you’d checked the top right drawer, you might have noticed I already filled out half of November’s schedule.”

“You—what?”

His smile softens so that it’s more sheepish, but it’s still radiant as ever. “Yeah. Figured I owed you for September.”

“But we’re supposed to be doing it—”

“Together, I know. Except I’d rather be doing this instead.”

He swoops down and captures her lips with his, taking her breath away. She should really be used to this by now, but she’s not. Not even close. Her hands drift up his chest, grasping the jersey she was ogling not fifteen minutes ago, tugging and pulling at it. Because as good as it looks on him, she wants it off. Now.

His hands shift down to cup her arse, lifting her up and she wraps her legs around his waist. Her teeth scrape his bottom lip before her tongue darts into his mouth, eliciting a groan from deep within his chest.

“Fuck,” he says as he tears his mouth away from hers, peppering kisses along her jaw and down toward her neck. “So, we’re done rowing about the rounds schedule now, yeah? Because if it’s all the same to you, I’ve been waiting all day to do this.”

Hermione tilts her neck to give him easier access as her hands rake through the soft thicket of red hair as she guides him to the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Please,” she sighs with contented relief. All the tension she’s been holding evaporates with every kiss. “Though, I can think of some more comfortable places to snog other than against this door frame.

He smiles against her collarbone. “Right. Your room okay?”

“Always.”

As he carries her into her bedroom and kicks the door shut, Hermione can’t help feeling foolish for picking such a ridiculous fight. But she loves the thrill of going toe-to-toe with him because it makes the snogging—and then some—so much better.

It’s okay that he’s late—really, it is—because it means that their secret is safe. Outside these walls, it’s all an act. They’re indifferent toward each other, tolerable for the sake of being Head Boy and Head Girl. Working together only because they have to.

Little does everyone know they’re doing a lot more than working. It’s thrilling, really. Unbeknownst to the rest of the school, Ron Weasley is her boyfriend. And so far, it’s practically perfect in every way.

[junowritings]

Gale with an artificer significant other who makes him magic items for him to absorb?

:0 I never considered this idea before but holy hells if that wouldn't be such a fascinating scenario. I'm not the most well versed on artificers so I had to do a lil reading and wing the rest but hopefully this is alright~!

=======

♡ An artificer partner who can create magic infused items for him? Hells you may as well be a knight in shining armor for Gale, showing up in his hour of need when circumstances were most dire.

♡ Before the abduction upon the nautiloid ship, Gale’s lack of orb-based implosions was credited only to the magical objects he had amassed over the years. And where his supply had begun to dwindle, Tara had been invaluable, retrieving magical objects and bringing them back to the tower to aid the wizard like the ruffled caretaker she always had been. It certainly wasn’t a pleasant existence, locked away constantly fighting to stem the tide of something he once hoped could earn him the forgiveness he craved. But it sated the orb, for a while; gave him the time that he desperately needed as he scoured every tome and followed every lead for answers in quelling the thing’s lethal nature away from any who could get caught up in the destruction, should his plans go awry.

♡ After the crash however? Gale has neither, and the orb within his chest burns at the knowledge, churning away with that incessant need to consume and nothing to fulfill it besides the few measly trinkets left on his person.

♡ Thankfully he has a saving grace, in the form of the very person that helped free him from that rune circle back at the beach. Even without your constant tinkering with magic infused items, you’ve got an uncanny knack for stumbling across things that are absolutely thrumming with powerful magic. Weapons, armor and trinkets that brim with enough power to keep the orb quiet for hours, days even if he’s fortunate. 

♡ You make no fact to hide that you’re an artificer by trade and soon enough Gale learns that the items you’ve been giving him alongside the ones that you find are of your own making. You’ve got a way with magic, enough that the items you give him are enough to effectively sate the orb - did you learn this all yourself? Or were you so gifted that the art came naturally to you? Whatever the reason, the items that you create are invaluable to the wizard, one that you offer up freely before he even reveals the reason why he needs them in the first place.

♡ The time eventually comes where Gale can’t hide his affliction any longer, and finally opens up to you about the orb and its constant need for consuming potent magical items. He can see the cogs turning in your head already, piecing things togethers as you realize why he’s asked you for those magical items in the past. He apologizes for keeping that factor in the dark until he knew he could really trust you, hoping that his words will at least earn some modicum of forgiveness considering just how many items you’ve handed over. 

♡ His apology is cut off abruptly, earning a thump to the shoulder from you when you realize the man has been eeking out the time between ‘feeding’ the orb so as to not raise suspicion. Needless suffering, considering how easily that pain could be mitigated by something that you could have made in abundance. Gale’s surprised when you forgive him just as quickly, a determined glint that he’s seen whenever you’re at work with your craft present in your gaze as you jump up and dart over to your tent. He calls after you, only to be met by a quick “I need to get to work!” before you all but disappear from view.

♡ The morning after this conversation Gale’s all but woken up by a loud clatter right outside his bedroll, startled by the sight of you unceremoniously dropping half a dozen handcrafted items right into his lap. You don’t need to tell him what they are - he can sense the magic within each one with but a glance, and the bewildered expression upon the wizard’s face is well worth the time you spent working into the late hours of the morning to make them. You look exhausted but smug, proudly gesturing to the pile with open arms as though expecting him to use one there and then. 

♡ Maybe you actually do, as Gale ends up having to convince you that he’ll test them later at your insistence. Probably better to get breakfast together first, so that he at least has some sustenance and you can get a break before he attempts to do anything else.

♡ Gale often finds himself transfixed watching you as you tinker, fascinated seeing you at work. Of course he never wants to intrude whilst you’re hard at work, and wouldn't dream of interrupting you. But it’s hard to miss the guy practically burning holes into your hands, inquisitive eyes peeking over from the book he’s pretending to read trying to figure out every step of your practice by observation alone. It’s kind of cute, in a way - and having the actual process of your work appreciated is rather vindicating.

♡ Offer to show him how you work and the wizard will be by your side the moment you give him the all clear. He’s naturally got a curious disposition - one that’s gotten you both into more trouble than you can count actually - and his eyes are practically trained to the movements of dexterous hands along with your words of explanation, mapping out the intricacies. A perfect mix of the mundane arts and the magical to make something that is basically saving everyone in a few miles radius from an impromptu end - how could that not be fascinating to a man like Gale?

♡ He doesn’t want you to feel like he’s just using you for the magical items that you provide. The lengths you go to to help him cope with his affliction aren’t lost on him for a second, and he fears he’ll never be able to repay for that kindness. The man will essentially put himself at your disposal should you need anything. He doesn’t mean to brag, but he’s learned enough that he’s confident he can at least be of some use to you with his proficiencies. You’ll notice the little things - the extra portion he gives you when it’s his turn to cook; the little gifts of tools or items that caught your eye from passing merchants. He knows it’s not enough to repay you - you deserve something better, something grander - but till things have settled and he can give that to you this will have to do. 

♡ Admittedly the pair of you experiment with the usefulness of your creations. Does the kind of magic or spell infused within the object have any effect on how long he can last before the next one? Unfortunately not; but the fact that the ability to test such a theory is even possible is extraordinary. With the threat of living from magic item to magic item no longer the catastrophic issue that it once was. The orb is always a lingering thought in the back of his mind; even on the best days it never fails to remind Gale of its presence ceaselessly beating away in his chest. But now it feels as though he’s gained some control back; a stable supply that does more than buy him time. And it’s all because of you - his wonderfully avid creator.

♡ Even after the orb is temporarily stabilized you still continue to make items for him. Maybe it’s out of habit, or maybe you worry that the spell that’s holding the orb back won’t last as long as you both hope. Whatever the reasoning, Gale never misses the spare magically infused trinkets hidden away in his pack; his ‘emergency supply’ for the worst case scenario that you’re not there and he needs it. He may hopefully never need to use them, but gods if he doesn’t cling to each and every item you make for him like it’s still the dearest lifeline you’ve ever given him.

[placiotrash]

Arcane s2 act 1 & 2 SPOILERS

Arcane is gonna make me end it all I swear What do you MEAN the first words Jayce said to Viktor when he first saw him emerge from his cocoon is "Viktor, My God" what do you MEAN "it was Affection that held us together"

And like the first thing Viktor said when he sees Jayce again is "I'd feared I wouldn't hace the chance to speak to you again" and "I was clouded by emotions. Come, visit me." LIKE WHAT

Lets not even get to the comparisons of Viktor becoming a messiah and healing the sick and poor in Zaun vs Jayce becoming a "traitor" and killing him when he was warmly welcomed. Of course, The roles of traitor and savior can be switched, since I don't think Viktor was doing the right thing, making his little cult and seemingly stripping people of their autonomy (whether he wanted to or was even aware he was doing it) and Jayce seemingly seeing past what was going on/having some reason (based on what he presumingly experienced in the wild rune) for doing what he does- everyone knows Jayce is a rightious person- if he thinks what he's doing will have save more people than it will hurt, he'll do it.

He and Viktor are the same in that they both want to save as many lives as possible, but they both tend to ignore the possible consequences (to varying degrees). Viktor was trying to merge parts of himself with the hextech thing to augment himself, without considering the real life consequences (if the expirement was unsuccesful, he could have made his disability worse, or even died- rip Sky, she was a real one- and if it DID work, who could guarantee i would work for everyone? - Sky, again. For Jayce, it the chaos his weapons would create without being guarded for misuse. He accidently killed a child in a fight because he was using his hextech, meant to HELP PEOPLE, in a way it wasn't designed to be used, without authorization or thinking through his plan enough)

NOW, though, Viktor became a part of the hextech he feared, and is helping people without really thinking through the consequences (again) like the horrifying fact that he can use the people he heals as a conduit for his consciousness, literally possessing their bodies, or the fact that they all seem to abandon their old lives and dedicate themselves wholy to him. Like has it occured that hmm, maybe these people are a little TOO into the whole "Im their savior" thing? Like we even see salo, a prideful man, become so devoted to Vik in such a short amount of time. Viktor's so hot. And let's not even mention the fact that as Viktor was walking in the fissures, the Hexcore literally SHOWS HIM where to go. Like if that doesn't scream some sort of manipulation, i don't know what does.

and we see the fact that the second Viktor (or rather the Hexcore) is destoryed (which might have been inevitable since Sky -or someone else i can't remember rn- mentioned how he was weakening with every miracle he performed, and something about how even machines have their limits. either this implies that Viktor himself was weakening as the conduit to the arcane in the hexcore, or the hexcore inside him itself was weakening with all vik was doing) all his followers seem to cry out with Viktor's own voice and falling limp, the arcane flowing out of them. Without the Hexcore, they die. Sure, they experienced a short existence without their illnesses, but if it comes at the price of literally needing the Hexcore to exist, how is it any better than an addicting drug? Exctasy in exchange for dependence. Life or death is the choice one makes when they are healed by Viktor, without them even knowing.

And Jayce. What has Jayce SEEN in the wild rune to become so disturbed by even the sight of Salo, one of Vik's followers. His 'glitches' always seem to respond with close proxy to them, and it makes me think that whatever is going on with Viktor and the hexcore, he's able to see right through it. Jayce's so hot. Jayce is ultimately a rightious man, so he wouldn't have 'killed' Viktor, the man he literally revived against his principles or promises, without REALLY GOOD REASONS. But that doesn't mean Jayce is in his right mind either. Like with Viktor, I think both of them are being (whether lightly or strongly) influenced. Viktor with the Hexcore, and Jayce with the Wild Rune.

But I do want to point out I think Jayce wanted to destroy the hexcore he put in Viktor, since he shot him in the chest where the core was, but this is up to debate. I think Jayce might know he didn't kill Viktor, since Jayce, whether influenced or not, would have MOURNED that man. Jayce started crying and ran who knows how far with Viktor in his arms when he thought that man died, you're telling me he wouldn't have fallen to his knees and cried both in grief and in guilt at what he'd done? No, Viktor had him wrapped around his finger, no way he'd walk away (disturbed and confused and in chaos, but not sad, not truly) without the show making this more of a big deal. That's how much I trust this show- no way they'd build up the relationship with these two without more going on.

Viktor, on the surface, seemed like the messiah the people in the fissures were saying he was, but in reality was betraying his principles to 'save' other and making them beholden to him. Jayce, who shot Viktor, the man who welcomed him back with open arms, stopped forsaking his principles and the promise he made to Viktor (before his first rebirth) and stuck his guns fueled by the knowledge he'd gained in the wild rune- that he was, in the end, saving more people than he was forsaking (and i do believe he saved viktor).

I don't play LoL, so I don't know the endgame outcome for these characters. Im hanging by a thread that they'll be okay (Act 3 is going to devistate me)

[nadas-dirthalen]

Veilguard Theorycrafting Thursdays: The Evanuris & Their Lyrium War

Welcome, one and all! While I count down to Veilguard's Halloween release, I'm going to dissect one tinfoil hat theory I have per week.

This week: I think the Evanuris were waging war over lyrium, and I think that in their desire to Blight the world, they killed the only one standing in their way - Mythal.

Elaboration, brainstorming, and sources below the cut! Be warned: this post is LONG.

SPOILERS for the Trespasser DLC, Tevinter Nights, and all Dragon Age games so far, INCLUDING VEILGUARD PROMOTIONAL CONTENT.

"The First of My People:" from Earth and Sky

Before I talk about what the Evanuris became, it's important to lay out my theories about how they came to be. So, to start, let's talk about Elgar'nan, first of the gods, and what the wiki says about his origins:

He was the first of the elven gods, born of the sun and the earth.

Now, to understand the deeper meaning I glean from that sentence alone, I want to talk about how the ancient elves view "the sun" and "the earth," and how neither of these things are as simple as they sound.

First, we can talk about Skyhold: literally the place where the sky was held back, where Solas first created the Veil. With this translation, we can understand that to the ancient elves, the sky and the Fade are interchangeable terms.

From what we can glean from the wiki, we can assume that the elven word 'elgar' means 'spirit.' The word for 'sun' is incredibly similar: 'elgara.'

Therefore, I conclude that the sun and the Fade are the same. One part of Elgar'nan comes from the Fade, in my interpretation. As do all elvhen: I interpret it to mean spirit-essence or spirit-people, suggesting the elvhen are spirits given shape (versus the elven, ostensibly their descendants).

In the Vir Dirthara, you find this codex:

The pages of this book—memory?—show a solemn group of elves in an ampitheater of living wood, entire trees grown into seats and stairs for the listeners to recline on. Two other elves and a spirit of learning are speaking in turn on ways to bend the properties of the material world when casting spells. At the end, the spirit, with the air of a senior lecturer, floats forward and booms in a surprisingly deep voice. "The unchanging world is delicate: spells of power invite disaster and annihilation. The unchanging world is stubborn: the pull of the earth fiercely resists making fire run like water or stone rise like mist. The unchanging world rings with its own harmony. Listen with fearless hearts, and great works will unfold."

Note how these words are being used. The unchanging world is a reference to the waking world, what would become our side of the Veil. But in that world, there is a pull of the earth. This references the deep earth, and its own magic: the magic of the Titans.

Therefore, Elgar'nan is one part "earth" and one part "sun" or "sky." One part Fade, one part Titan magic. In my interpretation? One part lyrium.

I believe Elgar'nan and Mythal, first of the Evanuris, are spirits who became corporeal, somehow involving the magic of Titans. Even though Mythal is said to have risen from the sea, I believe Elgar'nan and Mythal both began their existence spontaneously. They made themselves corporeal, and would go on to create more together. (More on that in a different post!)

From lyrium they came; to lyrium they all would fall.

Mythal and the Titans

Before we go into the Evanuris waging war on one another, we must understand their relationship to lyrium in the first place. How did they go from their own domain to underground, and what laid the groundwork for this infighting?

In the light of the veilfire, the runes seem to shift, coiling and uncoiling like snakes. A thunderous voice shatters the stillness, shouting: "Hail Mythal, adjudicator and savior! She has struck down the pillars of the earth and rendered their demesne unto the People! Praise her name forever!"

If you've done the Descent DLC, the Inquisitor will go on to say, "The runes say the Evanuris fought the Titans. They mined their bodies for lyrium and... something else. It's not clear."

Personally, I'm not sure when Mythal and the Evanuris first began slaying titans. Maybe this precipitated their own corporeal origins. Maybe she and Elgar'nan became corporeal using the bodies of the slain.

What is clear is this: their demesne was given to the People. What is the Titans' property? All we know is that lyrium is their lifeblood. Other than territory underground, this is all that could be given to the People. (More on my thoughts on this and the origin of the other Evanuris in a later week, I promise.)

The Evanuris and Lyrium

For now, one theory I have is that the Evanuris then created unliving servants from lyrium. We see this in another Vir Dirthara codex.

The pages of this book—memory?—show a narrow plateau on top of a mountain, Two armored figures—one in gold, one in black—are fighting in the snow. Steel flickers so fast the air hums. Blood dots the ground. They do not stop for breath. The one in black makes no sound as a blade parts his throat. "Mythal, in her wisdom, interceded in an argument between Elgar'nan and Falon'Din. With clever words, she convinced them to settle their grievance through a battle of their champions. Elgar'nan and Falon'Din agreed, and set their champions against each other rather than declare war among the gods. May those knights long be remembered, and Mythal's wisdom be praised."

These things aren't human! They bleed, but don't breathe. They never stop fighting. This duel lasts 100 years.

But we know that the Evanuris' handling of the Titans and lyrium did not end there.

For a moment, the scent of blood fills the air, and there is a vivid image of green vines growing and enveloping a sphere of fire. The vision grows dark. An aeon seems to pass. Then the runes crackle, as if filled with an angry energy. A new vision appears: elves collapsing caverns, sealing the Deep Roads with stone and magic. Terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spells is cast. A voice whispers: "What the Evanuris in their greed could unleash would end us all. Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger. The People must rise before their false gods destroy them all."

The Hubris of Andruil and the Origin of the Blight

Let me be clear. I think there is so much more to Mythal's murder than "Andruil and Falon'din were greedy and upset." But I do know that Andruil and Falon'din are both cited in Inquisition, from various sources, as being greedy and willing to push boundaries in order to further their own gain.

First, we have Andruil: goddess not of the hunt, as the Dalish believe, but of sacrifice, according to Solas in the Temple of Mythal.

One day Andruil grew tired of hunting mortal men and beasts. She began stalking the Forgotten Ones, wicked things that thrive in the abyss. Yet even a god should not linger there, and each time she entered the Void, Andruil suffered longer and longer periods of madness after returning. Andruil put on armor made of the Void, and all forgot her true face. She made weapons of darkness, and plague ate her lands. She howled things meant to be forgotten, and the other gods became fearful Andruil would hunt them in turn.

We know that blight disease is sometimes referred to as a "plague." We also know that prolonged lyrium use causes mutations in mages. We also know that red lyrium is Blighted lyrium - the blood of a Blighted Titan.

We also know that regular lyrium can, at the very least, empower a templar's anti-magic abilities. And we know what Mythal did to Andruil for her frequent trips to the Void.

[Andruil] howled things meant to be forgotten, and the other gods became fearful Andruil would hunt them in turn. So Mythal spread rumors of a monstrous creature and took the form of a great serpent, waiting for Andruil at the base of a mountain. When Andruil came, Mythal sprang on the hunter. They fought for three day and nights, Andruil slashing deep gouges in the serpent's hide. But Mythal's magic sapped Andruil's strength, and stole her knowledge of how to find the Void. After this, the great hunter could never make her way back to the abyss, and peace returned.

The moment I found out that memories are stored in lyrium, I had strong feelings about this codex. Especially since Solas, once absorbing Mythal's power at the end of Inquisition, gains the ability to use dwarven magic (turning people to stone with a thought). My interpretation is that Mythal has always been able to use this magic, for whatever reason, and was able to take Andruil's memories from her, storing those memories somewhere else. (There's a whole other theory branching from that, but it is not for this post.)

Point being: Mythal actively worked to prevent the other Evanuris from delving too deep into lyrium/Stone magic/the Void.

And it would be her downfall.

The Lone Voice of Reason, Doomed

Given the Evanuris' relationship to lyrium and the Titans, it would only be a matter of time before their desire to amass power would bring them too far, past the point of no return.

This would drive them to murdering Mythal, but not right away.

First, we can see countless examples of Evanuris greed leading up to Mythal's murder. Ghilan'nain created monsters of all shapes and sizes before the Evanuris raised her to godhood in fear. In Horror of Hormak, we gain a little insight into this process: a laboratory in the Deep Roads, an awful briny fluid, and a yellow-green lyrium crystal powering everything, which is then used to collapse the strange mountain above the laboratory, destroying it.

Later, Ghilan'nain encourages one of Dirthamen's followers to take a winged shape reserved for the gods, presumably a dragon. This sends Mythal into such quick anger that she turns this person to Elgar'nan for judgement, knowing his judgement is violent and cannot be trusted.

Second, Solas talking about Falon'Din in the Temple of Mythal makes me think that Falon'Din attempted a very similar rebellion, only to meet a similar failure.

INQUISITOR: Do you know any legends? SOLAS: It is said Falon’Din’s appetite for adulation was so great, he began wars to amass more worshippers. The blood of those who wouldn’t bow low filled lakes as wide as oceans. Mythal rallied the gods, once the shadow of Falon’Din’s hunger stretched across her own people. It was almost too late. Falon’Din only surrendered when his brethren bloodied him in his own temple. INQUISITOR: Did ancient elves believe all their gods so terrifying? SOLAS: Yes. I believe they did.

For a time, the Evanuris were on Mythal's side - at least when others were watching. I think, more likely, no one wanted to be publicly associated with failed rebellions.

Taken together, I conclude that the elven gods were quietly trying to rebel against Mythal for a long time, and would only succeed when they all worked together.

We know from the Veilguard trailer that the elven gods are all Blighted. This suggests to me that they all united on their desire to exploit lyrium and spread the Blight.

What Does This Mean for Veilguard?

Well! I'm a bit late in writing this all down, so the Veilguard Release Trailer has already hit a lot of my talking points. BUT. Tinfoil hat on, this is what I could see:

Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan are both Blighted. I'm guessing Elgar'nan's dragon form is also Blighted, and this will have implications for Solas/the Dread Wolf form.

I think the original valasslin used by the Evanuris were inked in lyrium, and since Solas' spell to remove them still works on a present-day Inquisitor, I wonder if some lyrium component is still involved -- and if it is, I imagine some of the Dalish might be puppetted by the Evanuris in DA:tV.

We know at least one Titan is Blighted, because of the existence and spread of red lyrium in DA:I. I'm thinking we see this not only spread, but mutate, due to the differently-appearing darkspawn in DA:tV and the existence of altered darkspawn in the short story Horror of Hormak.

We know Weisshaupt is supposedly dealing with its own "problems," and can also be seen with red lyrium in that one map trailer for DA:tV.

I think something is going to happen to everyone presently affected by lyrium. Vivienne and Solas both say that even regular lyrium permanently affects a mage who consumes it.

I think Mythal/Flemeth/Morrigan is going to tell us the intricacies of the lyrium war, as well as reveal secrets about lyrium's uses.

So... YEAH! If you got this far, thank you for reading this much. Let me know if you agree, or if I've missed anything important!

Happy 70 days 'til Veilguard, my dudes.

[everlastingmooncoven]

Lesson #1: Introduction to Magic

Witchcraft vs. Wicca vs. Paganism:

Paganism is a religion as well as an umbrella term to describe different religions. In the past, it was seen as anyone who wasn’t a Christian. Currently, a lot of practices and religions fall under the category of Pagan. No witchcraft or certain practices are required to be Pagan. Most Pagans do believe in the circles of life and death, with a strong connection to nature.

Wicca is a religion that usually involves witchcraft but not always. It was founded in 1954 by Gerald Garner and involves documents and beliefs such as the Wiccan Rede and the Harm None laws. The Wiccan religion falls under Paganism.

Witchcraft is a practice, not a religion. It can be used inside and outside of religious practices. There are many branches of The Craft, including Green Witchcraft and Cosmic Witchcraft.

Different Paths:

Not all Alchemists are witches, but Alchemy can be paired with the Craft.

Angelic Witches work closely with Angels in their practice.

A Celtic Witch would be a witch who follows the traditions and rituals of the Celtic religion. They may work with or worship Celtic deities and read Celtic myths, legends, and history. This could also include working with the fae, but it’s not required.

In a Ceremonial Witch's practice, it’s all focused on the sacred ceremonies and rituals of witchcraft. It’s more intricate than everyday magic.

Cosmic/Celestial Witches are the astrologers. Focused on the moon, sun, star, and planet cycles, zodiac signs and birth charts are their specialty. They use the energies from the cycles of the universe to fuel their spell work. Lunar Witches and Solar Witches would fall in this category, as their focus is mostly towards the phases of the moon or the sun.

Coven Witches are a part of a coven, this would include a high priest, or priestess along with members of a coven. They bring their powers together to cast spells and do rituals together.

Crystal Witches are all about the use of crystals and gems. Creating crystal grids, understanding the power of their properties, and using that power to manifest or attract the energies that the witch is trying to bring in their craft.

When it comes to Eclectic Witches they are a hit or miss. They mix and match their own practice from other religions or branches of witchcraft. That can be a good thing and a bad thing. You can make your practice your own and not be tied down to one thing. However, if you are taking from closed practices or taking from spaces where you aren’t welcomed then that is never okay. No matter what branch you practice.

A Death Witch is someone who works with the dead, or practices necromancy. This can also include helping them cross to the other side, honoring the dead in rituals, or helping people through periods of mourning their loved ones. Death deities such as Hel (Norse Goddess of Death) or Hades (Greek King of the Underworld) may be some deities a death witch might be interested in working with.

Demonologists are people who study, work with, or worship Demons and include them into their Craft.

Divination Witches are usually your psychics. They work with tools such as tarot or oracle cards, palm readings, pendulums, runes, etc. They can show the future or receive messages from the other side or from your guides.

Draconian Witches are people who work with Dragons. It is a very intricate path that isn’t made for everyone. You may approach dragons, but when it comes time dragons may or may not choose you.

Elemental Witches use the power of the elements in their practices. Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and sometimes the fifth element known as the Spirit or Either. Through bonding with the elements, she’s able to call on them in her practice. This could also be broken down by Fire Witches, who connect mostly with Fire elements. Water Witches also could fall under Sea Witchcraft. Air Witches could include playing instruments, listening to music, or singing in their practice. And Earth Witches could be classified as a Green or Plant Witch.

Fae Witches are those who work with the Fae in their craft. This is usually paired with the Celtic pantheon, but not always.

A Folk Witch can be hereditary, but not always. They include practices that are either passed down from family members, or their community. They use their ethnicities and the origins of their ancestors in their practices. Sometimes they can be closed practices, sometimes they are just not shared with people outside of those communities.

Gray Witches practice both the left-hand path (black magic) of the right-hand path (white magic). What kind of magic they practice depends on the situation.

Green Witches are all about nature, they use herbology, healing, gardening, and plant magic in witchcraft. They prefer to be outside and in nature, especially when doing their craft. Plant Witches are in a subcategory of Green Witchcraft whose main focus is plants.

Both Hearth Witches and House/Cottage Witches overlap when it comes to how they practice. They are both focused on making their home peaceful and full of magic. This can include candle magic, kitchen witchery, house rituals, etc.

A Hedge Witch is similar to an eclectic witch. But hedge witches are more focused on herbology, elements, astral protection, auras, and nature.

A Hellenic Witch is someone who works with or worships the ancient Greek or Roman deities. They perform rites and give offerings that were presented to the deities long ago.

Hereditary Witches are people whose family practices witchcraft. Power or certain practices are passed through their family line.

Kitchen Witches incorporate magic into their food or drink. They understand the properties that certain foods or herbs have and are able to pair them together to create a delicious, magical-filled dish or drink.

Sea Witches have a strong connection to the ocean. They can incorporate water, seashells, sand, and moon phases in their practices. Any body of water will do, you don’t have to live near any ocean to do sea magic. Lakes, rivers, or any natural body of water will do. They can also work with water spirits, such as mermaids.

Sex Witches use sexual acts and sexual energy to enhance their rituals. This can be done alone or with consenting partners.

A Solitary Witch practices alone or without a coven. They can be any type of Witch.

A Traditional Witch can be a hereditary, a folk, or a ceremonial witch. Any kind of practice that follows a long-standing tradition.

Wiccan Witch follows the Wiccan Rede and the Harm None laws, within their practice. They can include almost any other branch of witchcraft as well. They worship a God and Goddess as the masculine and feminine energies, and love and respect nature.

These are just a handful of witches that are out there, I know I missed many of them. Feel free to mix and match titles or have no title at all. It’s whatever you are most comfortable with and what you have a connection to the most.

Altars:

Altars are prominent in most religions; they are concentrated, personal, and sacred spaces meant for worship, spell castings, honoring ancestors, celebrating holidays and more. They can be simple and hidden, large and extravagant or anything in between. It should be created to please you and no one else.

The arrangement of tools on the altar can vary to each person, there is a basic outline, but you’re not required to follow it. When picking out the tools and decorations make sure you don’t choose random items that might clutter your altar. No matter how big or small your space is, you don’t want a messy place to work in; so make sure everything has a meaning or purpose.

Altars can also come in any aesthetic that you enjoy; some choose a very traditional altar, while others love a modern take on things. They can also be based around an element, deity, crystal, or even your favorite color.

There are so many ways you can present your altar, but as long as you make it your own precious space then the sky's the limit!

Witchcraft Tools:

A Book of Shadows, Grimoire, or another Spell Book can be anything you wish it to be, from a simple notebook, a file on your computer, or a fancy leather-bound book. No matter what it is, always keep it nearby when you are casting; you never know when you might need to jot something down or need a reference.

A Pentagram or Pentacle can be sat in the center of an altar, or worn on a necklace. It represents the five elements and can be used for protection.

Divination Tools would also be kept on your altar or nearby if you are doing spellwork. Whether it be tarot or oracle cards, pendulums, runes, tea leaves, or a crystal ball.

Photos or Statues are great ways to honor your ancestors and loved ones who have passed on (including pets!). You can add photos, notes, and other offerings on your altar as a way to honor them and call upon them. You can also add photos and statues of your guides or deities to dedicate a space to them.

Athames are beautifully crafted knives meant for spell casting or energy channeling only. They are usually not meant for cooking or other purposes.

Wands are created for energy channeling and circle casting, they can be made out of wood, crystal, metal, or glass. You can also craft your own and add crystals, charms, or other decorations to personalize it.

Candles can be used for multiple things. It can represent the element of fire and air, can represent a space for deities or ancestors, or for simple color magic. It’s good to have multiple colors and sizes, but white is usually a good substitute. You could also use birthday candles for spells that have to melt all the way down but you don’t want to wait or leave a burning candle unattended.

For the Earth Element anything that comes from the Earth naturally such as dirt, sand, flowers, leaves, certain herbs, sticks, crystals, rocks, etc can be used to represent the Earth element and be used in many ways.

Cauldrons or other heatproof bowls would be needed for making potions, burning herbs, casting spells, or scrying.

A Chalice could represent the Moon Goddess and the element of water; a chalice can hold water, wine, or other offerings. It can also be used for fertility rituals and spells.

Feathers represent the elements of air, they can be nice offerings for certain spirits, guides, or deities or be used for waving away negative energies.

Bells can represent the air element and are known for cleansing a space of negative energies to leave a peaceful feeling environment.

Each Herb, Plant, or Flower has different properties, each being unique and special. With that being said, some ingredients can be very dangerous and harmful to handle if you are unfamiliar with them; so always proceed with caution when using unknown herbs. And make sure to keep poisonous ones away from your furry or scaly friends and curious children!

Incense not only smells lovely, but they represent the elements of air and fire. They are wonderful for cleansing and each scent has its own special property.

Waters from ocean, lake, rain, storm, tap, or even bottled water can represent the water element; each can be used in a different way in a spell. But also can be used for cleansing yourself or your tools.

Poppets are very powerful tools that can be used for causing harm to enemies, initiating protection around a household, or casting a blessing on those closest to you.

Crystals are helpful for healing, protection, peace, and many other things. They are gorgeous pieces for offerings, or to just keep on your altar or in your car.

Pouches, Boxes, and Jars are a very simple way to hold any spell that you create, usually kept with the person it was made for, buried in the ground, on your altar. It can contain anything from blessings to curses.

Book of Shadows:

1. Create your own spellbooks:

Decide if you are going to have a physical book or binder or if you want a digital book, which could be left online or if you are going to print it out. Figure out the style, do you want traditional, cute, full of stickers, dried herbs or plants included, add artwork. Make it your own. You don’t have to call your spellbook the typical names, you can name your book anything you want. If you work with Spirits, Book of the Dead. If you work with the water element, Storm Book or Way of the Waters. Or sometimes more traditional like The Book of Ways. You can be creative when naming your Grimoire if you want. You can also have more than one spellbook for different tasks or information.

2. Layouts:

The layout of your book is unique to you. Personally, I tend to group similar things together. But here are things you can add to your book.

Some type of index to keep your book organized. You could also include a glossary of common-use terms or phrases.

A book blessing, protection sigils, and/or book dedications.

Your personal correspondences such as astrology charts, what type of path you practice, coven meetings (if you’re involved in one), information about the deities or guides you work with, and favorite divination methods. You could also add your favorite crystals, colors, herbs, flowers, etc.

Basic information about magic. Tools used in your craft, how to make sigils, cleansing, protection, correspondences about crystals, herbs, incense, aromatherapy, etc.

Animal correspondences, what it means when you see certain animals. This could also include familiar work, or any animal guides you work with.

Moon, sun, and planet phases. This can also include constellations, zodiac signs, birth charts, and how to read them.

The Wheel of the Year, any holidays or sabbats that you celebrate and how to celebrate them. This could also include days of the week correspondences and time correspondences.

You can add recipes that you make for offerings or holidays or even have a spellbook be a cookbook instead if you are a kitchen witch or just love cooking.

Any rituals or spells that you perform, what it is, when you cast them, the herbs or crystals you use, what the moon or sun phase was, the phrases you said, what the results were, and if you would change anything.

Divination tools that you use, the meaning behind tarot cards or runes, etc. And you can keep a journal track of when you do any kind of divination, the questions you asked and the answers you received.

History of magic, the path you practice, the deities or guides you work with. Folklore or myths from certain areas that you are interested in.

Lists of deities or guides from the pantheon(s) or groups that you’re involved in.

Different psychic abilities and keeping track of your meditation progress, dreams, affirmations, yoga, and any other energy workings that you do.

Any mythical beings (mermaids, dragons, fae, etc) that you work with and information about them. How you work with them, favorite offerings, spellwork that they’ve helped you with, etc.

Covens:

Covens are usually made up of 13 members that come together to practice Magick or celebrate a Sabbath together. They are normally very private groups that use their energies to reach a common goal or need.

Some Witches prefer Covens rather than solitary because you are able to learn and grow from the other members that you surround yourself with. If you are open with your practices then there can be a lot of backlash from non-pagans who don’t understand or accept your beliefs; so it’s always nice to have like-minded individuals in your life who you can communicate and socialize with.

However, if you are wanting to practice in solitude then that is completely up to you and your personal path. There is nothing wrong with not joining a Coven if your heart says no.

[theceolacanther]

Ranni IS canonically trans.

because if she is trans it reframes her entire character arc giving her so much more conviction and depth. my understanding of rannis arc is that shes a demigod, child of renalla who discards her great rune as well as her body and turns her back on the fingers to take control of her own destiny. this makes sense if she is a cis woman, who worships the cosmos instead of the erdtree and wants to usurp the throne and put her own ideologies into power.

HOWEVER if shes a trans woman who is actively working to dismantle the system that oppressed her and refused to let her express her true self, that makes a lot more sense narratively and makes her character arc a lot more satisfying imo. it also creates a parallel to (my understanding) of mohg and morgotts character arcs, about being outcasts and denied the light of the erdtree. however mohg and morgott were actively denied the light of the erdtree, but Ranni was told that she could have as long as she wasnt trans. so instead of hiding who she is, she discards her body and great rune divorcing herself from who she was and actively turning her back on the erdtree and marikas rule stating "i am a woman. i will always be a woman. and if you will deny me my birthrite because of that then i do not want it".

This also means that when ranni gives you the key to scale the tower of liurnia and collect her great rune it means SO much. she is trusting you with who she was, letting you take the power that she discarded and trusting you with the knowledge of who she is (im not saying that being trans is a terrible secret, or that people who are trans are cosplaying, just that after facing a life of discrimination of course she would want to keep the fact that shes trans close to her chest). when you find her body as well its a dried out corpse, the only defining feature is the dress that its wearing. the one thing that ranni left with that body is its feminity, refusing even after she discards it to let it be masculine or androgenous. she makes an active choice to keep her old body feminine even after she discards it.

you can also see her transness reflected directly in her dialogue aswell, as when you have the final conversation with her before the ending, where she is telling you what she wants this is what she says:

I take it thou'st noticed? I shouldn't be surprised. I thought I might expound a little further... Upon the order I envision.

Mine will be an order not of gold, but the stars and moon of the chill night. I would keep them far from the earth beneath our feet. As it is now, life, and souls, and order are bound tightly together, but I would have them at great remove.

And have the certainties of sight, emotion, faith, and touch... All become impossibilities. Which is why I would abandon this soil, with mine order. Wouldst thou come to me, even now, my one and only lord?

the line "life, souls and order are bound tightly together but i would have them at great remove" is saying that she wants to allow people the freedom to do what they want with their bodies. because under the reign marika the body is a gift given by the erdtree, so to change it would be heresy. and i wonder why she would want to unbind life, soul and order. the line "wouldst thou come to me, even now, my one and only lord?" is her asking if you accept her for who she is. shes laid her soul bare and shes asking to be accepted by you, and then you do!

ranni being a trans woman also greatly deepens her bond with iji and blaid. the two were gifted to her as consorts, made by the fingers. however when ranni wishes to turn her back on marikas order, on her great rune and on the fingers, blaidd and iji follow her. if she was cis, this would be sweet, like they love her so much that theyre willing to turn against their creators to follow her and try and help her instate her religion. however if shes trans this changes everything. theyre no longer following her because just because theyre loyal to her, they're also saying "i accept you". theyre seeing the injustices that shes facing, and theyre standing up for her. they see how shes been persecuted for being trans, and theyre saying this isnt right. they believe that it isnt right so strongly that they turn on the beings that created them! that wrote their personalities and constructed their bodies. thats how much they care for ranni. theyre willing to burn the world down because of how its treated their maiden, and i love that so much.

so like. ranni is trans. it deepens her convictions and relationships and also shows that marikas reign is one that has to change.

this post started because i was like "hehe ranni is trans because she discards her body and literally becomes a doll" and then i thought about it for 1 more second and was like. wait a sec. also im not super in the elden ring fandom so idk if this is like. common knowledge and im just late to the party

if a terf interacts with this post i will use their vertebrae to play air hockey 👍

[fantomette22]

Okay but what do you think about each of 'main seven' SoTE NPCs? (Leda, Freyja, Hornsent, Ansbach, Moore, Thiollier and Dane)? Which one is your favourite?

I'm glad you ask! But again I can't have ONE FAVORITE I'm bad at choosing one above all. ALL THE TIME!!!! 😂

Ok anyway I think each of those characters are very well done! Both individually and as a group!

They are all unique and quite interesting and I love their designs! And it is just so rare to have a big group like that of 7 SEVEN WHOLE PEOPLE who clearly have connections and interactions in a fromsoftware title like Hello?!?! (not just implied or in the lore).

Usually we have just a couple of like 2-3 characters per quest who really interact with each others. (and not just acknowledge/know the persons. Like Gideon & co or Sellen/Jerren quest or even Eileen/Henryk/Bloody Crow quest. It's usually a very limited number of npc per quests. Even for Ranni's quest there's not that much characters. As for Oedon Chapel all the characters don't really interact for each other besides Arianna/Adella and it's not positive XD

I found amazing they finally made a group of npcs we can really picture and see for our own eye!

Even if it's just in a cinematic of all of them together once lol or a battle to death. Just look at this...

I mean, in Bloodborne, many people do agree that, for exemple many important lore characters actually knew each others or even were hunters together at the same time (because it's up to interpretations, simpler and really fun & create cool& crazy stories!) but we can never be fully sure. For exemple did Laurence, Micolash, Rom, Caryll actually went at Byrgenwerth around the same time? If not years/decades apart? Same for old hunters like Maria, Ludwig, Izzy Gratia & co etc did they really hunt side by side and nit years apart?

On the contrary we are sure that Ornstein, Artorias, Ciaran & Gough fought together, same for Gwen & co but we don't really see it in game with our character.

I mean idk how to explain but it feel very impactful and unique to have all this unique characters work together/have links and made us the player, and our characters do quests with all of them! I'm glad Fromsoftaware did that at least!

And can we talk about this masterpiece of a fight and music?!!? they went so hard! omg it was incredible and so emotional! 10/10

Now what do I think of each of them? Oh boy

Well first they are seven of them. Like the seven guardians of light of kingdom hearts and many other thing. Like the number of runes we got on the main bosses 👀

This is a joke yes

-Ok let's go with Leda now

Since that artwork pop out I'm absolutely in love with the aesthetic ❤️ absolutely beautiful! Was very intrigued for sure. A dear a loyal follower of Miquella, what many people wanted to see or be! What an occasion. I appreciated her quickly for helping us!

But the more I advanced in the dlc the more I grew concerned, worried, scarred and even a bit terrified of her! I think no one expected it but she's capable of coldly doing the worst & killed past allies and that's terrifying. We know her sword literally have the blood of the past other needle knights too 😰 Still, I want to give a bit of nuance because it's up to interpretations but perhaps they did killed each others one by one and Leda just didn't kill her old squad all alone scary that things repeat itself... man must have been a big mess I really wonder what went down... probably a big tragedy too.

-Freyja : I really enjoyed her the antic/grec armor! That's so cool. It's so funny but when I met Freyja it went like this :

*Arrived in front of the npc* Hello sir! *talk to the npc*

*Freyja start to speak*

Me : Oh hello Ma'am?! 👀

I think many had assumptions with just the trailer! 😂 Likewise for Thiollier, on first trailer impression I would have assume a woman.

And I'm just so so happy that actually basic trope are swap! It just even more cool I love them so much!! <3

I really like her link with other characters and her quest in the storehouse. Girl is really the strong friend that need help in maths XD also her backstory with Radahn & Miquella is very interesting

-Speaking of Thiollier, I really like the guy too! <3 poor baby just wanted a hug from Trina... same fr I pity him a bit during that but after he calm down I know he's a true homies that will stand with me! I'm very intrigued by his backstory too... fell sad.

-Moore : aww look at this little guy 🥺 who like to collect stuff. So much autistic vibe jckfbh. Anyway he deserved better 😭

-Dane: really mysterious and interesting character for sure. I beat him first or 2nd try I thinK? Not that hard but he don't have weapons and is very strong respect! I like that he leave us message/ stuff around waterfall too

-Hornsent : very intriguing too 🤔 Also I screw up his quest kinda 💀 forgot to help him against Leda before Messmer dcnfnvnjfv also his link with Grandam (scorpion stew etc) and potentially Romina are very interesting! Why Romina? Well when I couldn't beat the final boss I discovered bro invade us just before Romina somehow?! I have no idea how did I missed him ?! So yes he try to block the way to the tower but more directly Romina. And he's a hornsent. So idk maybe there's a connection ?😅

-Ansbach : ah the goat! Of course I like the grandpa with a scythe and a helmet like the cainhurst one! 😂 What can I say I really like this character, he's wise and very kind towards us and looks so cool! He help us a lot. he have crazy ass revelation too O_O the only thing I can reproach him is that he used to work for Mohg and when he was younger probably did some very wild if not awful thing... he really don't feel that now hm? Anyway really like him too!

[loraluna]

Rating Rune Factory Wedding Dresses (Because I have some opinions)

Rune Factory (1)

10/10

I honestly think this dress is top tier in terms of design. The snowy white with pops of color, the scalloped flowy sleeves, the barely exposed shoulders, that lovely subtle headdress and veil, it's all so pretty and elegant to me. I believe it suits all the girls in RF1 beautifully, though I do feel like Tabatha (center) and Rosetta (right) are standouts~

Rune Factory 2

6/10

It's a very lovely design overall though I do think it creates a bit of an odd silhouette. There are still many elements to appreciate, like the lacey detailed edges and the bold but uncommon use of green. I also give them bonus points for containing a dress sprite of he/him character Ray (right) in the game's data (Trans RF character confirmed?) I think the dress best suits curvier girls like Yue (left) but it's also a real treat to finally see Dorothy's (center) lovely eyes~

Rune Factory Frontier

2/10

This dress really doesn't do it for me. I can tell they were going for more of a ceremonial robes vibe rather than a traditional wedding dress and from a distance it almost works but the outfit up close is just bulky and unflattering. Maybe if they fixed the headdress or gave the robe some really pretty accents or beading it could work, but as it is, it's probably the last thing I'd wanna be virtually married in. The one thing I do like is that it gives most of the girls a unique updo for their wedding day.

Rune Factory 3/RF3 Special

3/10

This used to be my least favorite RF wedding dress before that honor went to Frontier. The more I look at it, the more I realize that most of my disdain lies with the headdress and not the dress itself. The actual dress is fine, in fact there are some parts I really like, the sheer material on the upper arms for one, or the shawl, I just don't think it particularly looks like a wedding dress. That headdress though...oh boy, it looks like someone just glued a bunch of random sh*t they found to a headband and called it a day. It's just very cluttered and doesn't scream 'wedding' at all. If I have to pick a stand out it would probably be Raven (center) since her pose and hair color hide many of the design fails. Also Daria (right) because it seems like the sort of chaotic outfit she, herself would design.

Rune Factory Tides of Destiny/Oceans

5/10

This game didn't get the usual character portraits so the images aren't great, but my opinion on these dresses was very so-so, I definitely wouldn't call them ugly, and I do love the colors and rare use of a real bouquet, they just didn't seem to stand out all that much. Especially in terms of RF costumes. They seem a little bulky on the models but I honestly think they could have fixed that by just having character portraits. Not bad. Not great. Just middle of the road dresses. As standouts I'd pick Sonja and Electra (left and center). Their hair colors complement the dress and Electra is already suited to the poofy ballgown look anyway.

Rune Factory 4/RF4 Special

8/10

RF4's dress has a very ethereal, almost fairy-like look to it, which I personally find very gorgeous. It's pretty busy like many of the previous dresses, but unlike those, I feel like the elements here actually work together. The long flowy veil and blue rose accents are just beautiful, as is the detailed corset and neckpiece making up the torso. I'm not personally a huge fan of the flower petal looking design on the hips, but it does fit well with the whole aesthetic. As for standouts, It looks tailor made for Frey (left), but I definitely think taller, long haired girls like Dolce and Margaret (center and right) look amazing in it as well.

Rune Factory 5

9/10

I think this dress is beautiful as a whole, a bit more traditional and subdued than previous wedding outfits but personally I love it. The silhouette is flattering on everyone and the color scheme is unique among the other dresses by sticking with only warmer colors as opposed to the cool blues and greens of past games. I also love how the tint of the roses changes slightly depending on who's wearing the dress. All in all it reminds me a lot of the subtle elegance of RF1's dress and that makes it a win for me. For standouts I think Fukka's (center) complexion and hair go beautifully with the dresses colors. Ludmilla (right) also looks divine with the rosy aesthetic~

What's your favorite wedding look from the RF series? Who wore it best? Comment or tag if you feel like dishing some opinions of your own (Or just answer my poll ;)

[wildhvnt]

Violet’s second signet

Here me out, I could be wrong, but I think Violet’s second signet is tied to the runes.

Rebecca has said that Violet’s signet from Andarna has manifested and she uses it in Iron Flame. Well, every time Violet creates lightning, she consciously pulls from Tairn’s power.

And when do we see her consciously pull from the stream of Andarna’s magic in her Archives? When she’s creating the runes for class.

And signets are manifested out of the rider’s biggest need. What has been Violet’s strongest need the entire book? To buff the wards, to understand the lost magic of the runes that protect the people she loves. To know how everything works so she can make sure it can continue to work. And Andarna is significantly linked to the ward stones and runes.

I think Violet will be able to weave or create runes that most people can’t or that most people have forgotten about. They’re made from a lost language that she can read (one of the few who can).

And I think she’ll be able to combine both of her signets together to save the godsdamn world. She wields pure energy (that’s what her primary signet is) - who’s to say she wouldn’t be able to create a powerful enough rune embedded with that power and funnel pure energy, pure magic, back into the earth where it’s been stolen by venin?

A rider with the mind of a scribe.

[pyraelia]

November 19 Day 3 - Strength

Pyraelia frowned at the crates of books and scrolls that had piled up in one of the Magistry archive's storage rooms. She'd tried to lift one — an effort that previously had not been an impediment — but now, the amount that her prosthetic right arm could lift was certainly out of sync with what her flesh and bone arm could. Perhaps being tortured by the Puppetmaster in their particular way had more of a physical effect on her than she'd anticipated.

Not that she'd ever been particularly strong to begin with. Growing up as ill as she had ruled out most sports, not that she liked doing sports herself anyway. It was more fun to stay inside and read, or go outside and read, or be anywhere and read, really.

Still, this presented somewhat of a problem.

Her rank was technically high enough that she could make some of her subordinate Magisters do the work for her, but that didn't feel quite right. She could also simply leave it for another day if needs must, there were, after all, dozens of other projects lingering around the archive. There was certainly something tempting about being the Magistrix able to finally unravel the layers of curses that had a stranglehold on the upper floor of the closed stacks that had been designated forbidden to anyone below her classification.

It was going to bother her if she walked away, she knew that, and she cursed her completionist nature.

Surely there wasn't any immediate harm in doing magic about it.

She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, mentally running through the spell matrices and theoretical structures she would need to adapt and layer to achieve the outcome she wanted. As she traced the necessary runes in the air, arcane energy coalesced around her in glittering cyan and violet. Conjuration wasn't complicated in essence, but shaping form could be tricky. It was important to be intentional about exactly what you wanted to create as you were creating it, after all.

Her arcane mirrors came to being in a fraction of a second and the three spectral versions of herself waited patiently for her command.

She clapped her hands together and looked at the mess before them, "Alright ladies, let's get to work!"

@daily-writing-challenge

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 2, Wave 3, Poll 11

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Ayda Aguefort-Dimension 20

Qualifications:

Autistic queer women/phoenix💜💜

She is Sapphic and canonically on the autism spectrum.

Propaganda:

She's an awesome autistic head-librarian who also happens to be the girlfriend of one Fig Faeth (pc of Emily Axford). She's cute, super-powerful, and her dynamic with Fig is one of the best romantic storylines I know💜💜

Ayda Aguefort (pronounced EYE-da) a half-phoenix divination wizard and head librarian of the Compass Points Library in Leviathan, a vast pirate city in the Celestine Sea, made up of thousands of shipwrecks all connected together to create a floating island. She is described as a resplendent and beautiful young woman, with a striking resemblance to her deadbeat father/legendary wizard Arthur Aguefort. From the knees down she has large, almost metallic golden talons, with digitigrade ankles. Her wings are deep red, turning orange, and as they reach yellow at the ends, flicker with little flames. She is noticeably not a harpy as she has has arms as well as wings. Her arms are tattooed with many orange runes on her dark human skin. Her eyes are pupils set into roiling balls of flame. She has a short shock of fiery red hair at the top of her head. She wears white linen pants with a pirate sash, a vest, and a bandolier which holds two scrolls. She also has two small books strapped under each arm where one might have guns. Ayda has experienced multiple reincarnations due to her abilities as a half-phoenix. She has lived in Leviathan for around 150 years, but is over 300 years old. In one of Ayda's previous reincarnations, she adopted Garthy O'Brien as her child. Her current reincarnation is seventeen, with Garthy now as her guardian. Her past reincarnations have left notes for her future selves to follow, as once she's reborn, she has no memories of her past lives. She previously believed herself to be only 175 years old, and has no idea what she did for the first 125 years of her life, as one of her incarnations destroyed all her notes in an attempt to start fresh. She regretted this decades later and began writing notes again. Ayda is autistic and can be very hard to read as she often behaves in a very transactional way and uses blunt language. Her eyes being balls of fire doesn't help. She's a very intelligent and accomplished wizard, and takes pride in her work at the library, although gets lonely sometimes and is desperate for a friend. She is always looking to expand the library with new knowledge, and asks a lot of questions. Before meeting the Bad Kids, she was very lonely, and is now very excited to have so many transitive best friends, as well as a super awesome/badass punk-rock tiefling bard girlfriend.

Kim Kitsuragi-Disco Elysium

Qualifications:

Visually impaired

Propaganda:

I dunno man. He's Kim Kitsuragi. There's nothing I can say about him that hasn't already been said. He's quiet and reserved and uncomfortable with emotions. He's a self-proclaimed Torque Dork who loves his car like a child. He listens to heavy metal music. He's a centrist. He's a homosexual. He's consistently given shit by everyone around him for his race, his sexuality, and his disability, and he's taught himself to respond to it with cold professionalism. He dresses in historical communist pilot cosplay. I love him with my entire heart.

[serene-faerie]

Silm OC: Merilwen of Doriath

After reading about the OCs of @cilil and @fishing4stars I finally decided to create a Silm OC, so here she is! I hope you all like her!

Name: Merilwen

Gender: Female

Group: Sindarin, some Nandorin heritage from her paternal side

Affiliation: Doriath, Elwing

Birthplace/Dwelling: Menegroth

Face-claim: Rose Byrne, circa 2000's

Merilwen is a Sindarin elf maiden, medicinal lore-master, and a perfume-maker who lives in Menegroth. Her mother is a handmaiden to Queen Melian, and her father is one of the march-wardens of Doriath. Merilwen's interest in perfume-making started when she began venturing into the many forests of Doriath to experiment with different perfume ingredients. Her greatest accomplishment as a perfume-maker is the perfume she made as a gift for Princess Lúthien's adolescent begetting day.

When she's not making perfumes, she's a lore-master and herbalist who specializes in the study of Sindarin medicine. She has great knowledge about medicinal plants and remedies, and it served her well when she was treating wounded soldiers during the First Battle of Beleriand.

Merilwen is very patient and conscientious. She works hard, always gives her best effort, and always strives to improve her skills. Though she may be shy and quiet, Merilwen is warm and caring, and she cherishes both family and friends deeply. She's also very proud of her Sindarin heritage, and she takes pride in being one of the Iathrim as well. Merilwen shows her pride in upholding Sindarin cultural traditions in many ways, like using Sindarin runes in her writing, wearing Sindarin gowns, and taking part in festivals and other ceremonies.

Like most of the Iathrim, Merilwen has very mixed feelings about most of the Noldor. She respects Finrod Felagund for his diplomacy and his sincere efforts to connect with the Sindar. She also admires his sister Artanis; enough to teach her about Sindarin medicine and support her budding romance with Celeborn. However, much like Thingol and the rest of the Sindar, Merilwen is deeply hurt and betrayed when the news of the First Kinslaying comes out. And like the rest of her kindred, Merilwen harbors a grudge against the Fëanorians for the kinslaying, and for their continued lack of respect towards Thingol and the Sindar as a whole.

In terms of people she likes, Merilwen deeply admires Lúthien. It helps that Lúthien had shown compassion to Merilwen and helped her grieve when her father had been killed during the First Battle. In addition, Merilwen has nothing but undying respect for King Thingol and Queen Melian, as they treated her grieving mother with kindness and compassion, and they even made sure that Merilwen was faring well in the wake of her father's death.

Merilwen has a very deep bond with Elwing, ever since the Second Kinslaying. Merilwen was part of the survivors who helped the young princess escape to the Havens of Sirion, and she was a primary mother figure for Elwing during childhood. As such, they've developed a mother-daughter bond, and are very close to each other. Merilwen wants nothing more than to see Elwing happy, and she's long since given up on finding love for herself. Instead, her main priority is raising Elwing and helping her grow up.

But then she catches the eye of Voronwë, one of the survivors of Gondolin, and the honorary uncle of the young Eärendil, son of Tuor and Princess Idril. And when Elwing and Eärendil befriend each other, Merilwen finds herself spending more time with Voronwë, who always accompanies Eärendil during playdates. Soon, after finding common ground with each other, Merilwen and Voronwë develop a close friendship with each other. Eventually, their bond blossoms into something much deeper with every moment they spend together. It doesn't take much for Voronwë to fall in love with Merilwen, and Merilwen very much feels the same way for him. However, Merilwen is afraid of confessing her feelings. She's lost too many loved ones in her life, and she can't bear to lose another person she loves.

But perhaps little Elwing can give Merilwen the push she needs to confess her feelings to Voronwë...