#original blue sapphire stone

[brahmagemsnaturalgemstone]

10% Off All Natural to Buy Blue Sapphire Online

If you are looking for the 10% off to buy blue sapphire online. Brahma Gems is offering the all blue sapphire gemstone like, Sri Lanka Blue sapphire and Kashmiri Blue Sapphire gemstone. Our gemstones are natural, unheated and untreated.''

[brahamagems]

Enhance Your Beauty with Natural Neelam Stone

Enhance your aura with the mystique of buy Neelam Stone from Brahma Gems. Purchase this magnificent gem online to enjoy its timeless elegance and healing qualities, which stand for knowledge and tranquilly.

[dfoxmedia]

Product Description:

Buy Natural Original Blue sapphire for sale online at 6.05 carats. Blue sapphire is a precious gemstone to wear as jewelry on different occasions. It is recognized as a powerful stone to bring health, wealth, and luck to life. You will get success and Fame in less time by wearing a gem on the body. According to astrology, people of different zodiac signs have different impacts on life by wearing a Neelam stone. Vedic astrology allows people to wear it to get more success and Fame. This gemstone is available with various certifications which you can choose while purchasing from our website.

Benefits:

• Provides mental relief and enhances mental strength. • Protection from evil nazar and hexes. • Improves decision-making. • Soothes the senses and helps gain self–control. • Removes negativity and unknown fears. • Gives a positive financial boost.

[my-gems]

Buy Original Blue Sapphire Online

Introduction

Blue sapphire is a stunning gemstone, known for its beautiful blue color. It is a symbol of wisdom, success, and royalty. Many people buy blue sapphire because of its beauty or its supposed ability to bring good luck and success. If you are thinking about buying a original blue sapphire, but you are not sure where to start, this guide will help you. You’ll learn about the gemstone, how to know if it’s real, and where to buy gemstones online.

What is a Blue Sapphire?

A blue sapphire is a precious stone that comes from the corundum family. While sapphires can be different colors, the blue ones are the most popular. The blue color comes from iron and titanium in the stone.

Blue sapphires are very hard and durable, making them perfect for jewelry. They are used in rings, necklaces, and other pieces. In astrology, Neelam stone (the Indian name for blue sapphire) is believed to bring good fortune, especially for those whose birth charts are connected with the planet Saturn.

Where Do Blue Sapphires Come From?

Blue sapphires are found in different parts of the world, each giving the stones a unique look. Some of the most famous places where they are found are:

Sri Lanka: Known for producing Ceylon sapphires, which have a bright, clear blue color.

Myanmar (Burma): Famous for deep blue sapphires with a touch of purple.

Thailand: Known for sapphires that are often treated to improve their color.

Madagascar: Newer to the sapphire scene but known for stunning blue sapphires.

Australia: Known for deep, rich blue sapphires.

Why Should You Buy Blue Sapphire Online?

Buying blue sapphires online has many advantages:

More Choices: Online stores offer a variety of sapphires from different regions, so you have more options to choose from.

Better Prices: Since online stores do not have physical locations, they often offer better prices.

Convenience: You can shop for your blue sapphire online at any time and from anywhere.

Certification: Many online stores offer certificates that guarantee your blue sapphire is real and of good quality.

How to Identify an Original Blue Sapphire

It’s important to make sure the blue sapphire you are buying is genuine. Here’s how to recognize a genuine gemstone:

Inclusions: Most natural sapphires have small flaws inside them, which are called inclusions. These are normal for real stones.

Color: A genuine blue sapphire should have a deep blue color. If it’s too perfect or bright, it could be treated or fake.

Certification: Always ask for a certificate that proves the blue sapphire is real and authentic.

Clarity: Genuine sapphires are clear and don’t have large visible flaws.

Price: Be careful of prices that seem too low. If the price is too good to be true, the stone might not be real.

Why Buy Blue Sapphire Online?

There are many reasons to buy blue sapphire online:

Trusted Retailers: Online stores that specialize in gemstones often offer high-quality sapphires and provide certificates to prove their authenticity.

Convenience: You can shop from the comfort of your home and compare different options.

Astrological Benefits: If you’re buying a original blue sapphire for its supposed astrological benefits, many online stores offer helpful information about choosing the right stone.

Customization: Some online stores let you customize your blue sapphire jewelry, so you can get a piece that fits your style.

Where to Buy Blue Sapphire Online

There are many online stores where you can buy gemstones online, but it is important to choose a trusted store like MyGem. Here’s what to look for:

Reputation: Look for stores with good reviews and feedback from other customers.

Certifications: Make sure the store provides a certificate for the blue sapphire you’re buying.

Return Policy: Always check if the store allows returns in case the gemstone is not what you expected.

Customer Service: Choose a store with good customer service that can help you with any questions.

Conclusion

Buy Your Original Blue Sapphire Online

Blue sapphires are beautiful and powerful gemstones that many people wear for their spiritual benefits or simply for their beauty. Whether you are looking for a Neelam stone to help you achieve success or simply want to own a beautiful gemstone, buying blue sapphires online is a great option.

Look for trusted online stores like MyGem that offer certified, high-quality blue sapphires. With the tips in this guide, you’ll be able to find the perfect gemstone for your needs.

Call-to-Action

For authentic blue sapphire gemstones and expert guidance, contact us today. Visit www.mygem.in or call us at +91-8319116306. Let us help you find the perfect gemstones for your needs.

May you like this :- The Astrological Benefits of Blue Sapphire

Top 8 Gemstones on Online Store

FAQ’s

1. What are the benefits of blue sapphire?

Blue sapphire is thought to bring wealth, clear the mind, protect from negativity, boost emotions, and aid in healing.

2. Who should wear blue sapphire?

Blue sapphire is good for Capricorn and Aquarius people and those seeking focus, good luck, and protection from negativity. Be sure to seek advice from an astrologer before wearing it.

3. What is the difference between “blue sapphire” and “neelam stone”?

“Neelam stone” is simply the Hindi term for blue sapphire, often used in Indian markets and astrological contexts.

4. What is the best online platform to buy gemstones?

The best platform to buy gemstones is MyGem, offering authentic stones with secure delivery. Visit mygem.in or call +91-8319116306 for more info.

[fazalkhan2914]

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[greenwitchcrafts]

October 2024 Witch Guide

New Moon: October 2nd

First Quarter: October 10th

Full moon: October 17th

Last Quarter: October 24th

Sabbats: Samhain- October 31st-November 1st

October Hunter's Moon

Also known as: Blood Moon, Drying Rice Moon, Falling leaf Moon, Freezing Moon, Harvest Moon, Migration Moon, Moon of the Changing Season, Sanguine Moon,, Shedding Moon, Ten Colds Moon, Winterfelleth & Windermanoth

Element: Air

Zodiac: Libra & Scorpio

Nature spirts: Frost Faeries & Plant Faeries

Deities: Apollo, Astarte, Belili, Cernunnos, Demeter, Hathor, Herne, Horned God, Ishtar, Lakshmi & Mercury

Animals: Elephant, jackal, ram, scorpion & stag

Birds: Crow, heron & robin

Trees: Acacia,apple, cypress & yew

Herbs: Angelica, burdock, catnip, pennyroyal, sweet Annie, thyme & uva ursi

Flowers: Apple blossom, calendula, cosmos & marigold

Scents: Apple blossom, cherry & strawberry

Stones: Amethyst, beryl, cat's eye, chrysoberyl, citrine, obsidian, opal, sapphire, tourmaline & turquoise

Colors: Black, blue, dark blue, blue-green & purple

Issues, intentions & powers: Cooperation, darkness, divination, healing & hope

Energy: Artistic works, creativity, harmony, inner cleansing, justice, karma, legal matters, mental stimulation, partnerships, reincarnation & uncovering mysteries or secrets

The Harvest Moon is the full Moon that occurs nearest to the autumnal equinox date (September 22, 2024). This means that either September or October’s full Moon may take on the name “Harvest Moon” instead of its traditional name. Similarly, the Hunter’s Moon is the first full Moon to follow the Harvest Moon, meaning it can occur in either October or November.

The Harvest Moon & the Hunter’s Moon are unique in that they are not directly related to this folklore or restricted to a single month. Instead, they are tied to an astronomical event: the autumnal equinox!

• October’s full Hunter Moon orbits closer to Earth than any of the other full Moons this year, making one of the four supermoons of 2024!  As the Moon drifts over the horizon around sunset, it may appear larger & more orange—how perfect for the fall season!

It is believed that this name originates from the fact that it was a signal for hunters to prepare for the upcoming cold winter by going hunting. This is because animals were beginning to fatten up in preparation for the winter season. Moreover, since fields had recently been cleared out under the Harvest Moon, hunters could easily spot deer & other animals that had come out to search for remaining scraps. Additionally, foxes & wolves would also come out to prey on these animals.

Samhain

Known as: Ancestor's night, Feast of Apples, Feast of Sam-fuim, Feast of Souls, Feast of the Dead, Geimhreadh, Hallowmass, Martinmass, Old Hallowmass, Pagan New Year, Samana, Samhuinn, Samonios & Shadowfest

Season: Autumn

Element: Water

Symbols: Apples, bats, besom, black cats, cauldrons, ghosts, gourds, jack-o-lanterns, pumpkins, scarecrows & witches

Colors: Black, gold, orange, silver & white

Oils/Incense: Basil, cloves, copal, frankincense, gum mastic, heather, heliotrope, mint, myrrh & nutmeg

Animals: Bat, bear, boar, cat, cattle & dog

Stones: Amber, anatase, black calcite, black obsidian, black tourmaline, bras, carnelian, clear quartz, diamond, garnet, gold, granite, hematite, iron, jet, marble, onyx, pearl, pyrite, ruby, sandstone, sardonyx, smokey quartz, steel & tektite

Food: Apples, ale, beef, cider, corn, nuts, fruit, garlic, gourds, grains, hazelnuts, herbal teas, mushroom, nettle, nuts, pears, pomegranates, pork, poultry, pumpkin pie, sunflower seeds, thistle, turnips & wine (mulled)

Herbs/Plants: Acorn, allspice, angelica, besom, catnip, corn, deadly nightshades, dittany of Crete, fumitory, garlic, mandrake, mugwort, mullein, oak leaves, patchouli, reed, rosemary, rue, sage, straw, tarragon, thistle & wormwood

Flowers:  Calendula, chrysanthemum & heather

Trees: Apple, beech, buckthorn, hazel, pine, locust, pomegranate, willow, witch hazel, yellow cedar & yew

Magical: Faeries

Goddesses: Al-Lat, Baba Yaga, Badb, Bast, Bebhionn, Bronach, Brunhilde, Cailleach, Carlin, Cassandra, Cerridwen, Copper Woman, Crobh Dearg, Devanyani, Dolya, Edda, Elli, Eris, Erishkigal, Fortuna, Frau Holde, Hecate, Hel, Mania, The Morrigan, Nemisis & Nicneven

Gods: Arawn, Baron Samede, Chronus,The Dagda, Dis, Hades, Nefertum, Osiris, Pluto, Woden & Xocatl

Spellwork: Divination, fire magick, night magick, shape-shifting, spirit calling & water magick

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Crossroads, darkness, death, divination, honor, introspection, otherworldly/underworld, release, visions & wisdom

Activities:

•Dedicate an altar to loved ones who have passed

• Boil a simmer pot to cleanse your space

• Have a silent dinner

• Light a candle for your loved ones & yourself

• Decorate your house and/or altar

• Release negative energy & cleanse yourself with a ritual bath

• Pull tarot cards to see what may be in store for you ahead

• Cleanse, clean & de-clutter your space

• Host or attend a bonfire

• Leave offerings for the Sídhe

• Journal & reflect on your accomplishments, challenges & everything you did this year

•Go on a nature walk

• Learn a new form of divination

• Have a bonfire with your friends and/or family

• Carve pumpkins, turnips or apples

• Express yourself creatively through art, music, ect

• Visit a cemetery & help clean off areas that need it or to visit a family member/ ancestor & leave an offering

• Hold a seance

• Bake spooky treats & bread as offerings

• Refresh your protection magicks, sigils & rituals

Samhain is about halfway between the autumnal equinox & winter solstice. It is one of the four Gaelic seasonal festivals along with Imbolc, Beltane, & Lughnasa. Historically it was widely observed throughout Ireland, Scotland, & the Isle of Man. 

Samhain is believed to have Celtic pagan origins &  some Neolithic passage tombs in Great Britain & Ireland are aligned with the sunrise at the time of Samhain. It is mentioned in the earliest Irish literature, from the 9th century & is associated with many important events in Irish mythology.

The early literature says great gatherings & feasts marked Samhain when the ancient burial mounds were open, which were seen as portals to the Otherworld. Some of the literature also associates Samhain with bonfires & sacrifices.

• According to Irish mythology, Samhain (like Beltane) was a time when the 'doorways' to the Otherworld opened, allowing supernatural beings and the souls of the dead to come into our world; while Beltane was a summer festival for the living, Samhain "was essentially a festival for the dead".

•The festival was not recorded in detail until the early modern era. It was when cattle were brought down from the summer pastures & livestock were slaughtered. Special bonfires were lit, which were deemed to have protective & cleansing powers.

At Samhain, the aos sí were appeased with offerings of food & drink to ensure the people & livestock survived the winter. The souls of dead kin were also thought to revisit their homes seeking hospitality & a place was set at the table for them during a meal. Divination was also a big part of the festival & often involved nuts & apples.

Mumming & guising were part of the festival from at least the early modern era, whereby people went door-to-door in costume, reciting verses in exchange for food. The costumes may have been a way of imitating & disguising oneself from the aos sí. 

• In the late 19th century, John Rhys and James Frazer suggested it had been the "Celtic New Year", but that is disputed.

Some believe it is the time of The Goddess' mourning the death of The God until his rebirth at Yule. The Goddess' sadness can be seen in the shortening, darkening days & the arrival or cold weather.

Related festivals:

• Halloween( October 31st)-

In popular culture, the day has become a celebration of horror, being associated with the macabre and supernatural.

•One theory holds that many Halloween traditions were influenced by Celtic harvest festivals, particularly the Gaelic festival Samhain, which are believed to have pagan roots. Some go further & suggest that Samhain may have been Christianized as All Hallow's Day, along with its eve, by the early Church. Other academics believe Halloween began solely as a Christian holiday, being the vigil of All Hallow's Day.

Popular Halloween activities include trick-or-treating (or the related guising & ghouling), attending Halloween costume parties, carving pumpkins or turnips into jack-o'-lanterns, lighting bonfires, apple bobbing, divination games, playing pranks, visiting haunted attractions, telling scary stories, & watching horror or Halloween-themed films

• Day of the Dead(November 1st-2nd)-

 el Día de Muertos or el Día de los Muertos

The multi-day holiday involves family & friends gathering to pay respects & to remember friends & family members who have died. These celebrations can take a humorous tone, as celebrants remember amusing events & anecdotes about the departed. It is widely observed in Mexico, where it largely developed, and is also observed in other places, especially by people of Mexican heritage.

•The observance falls during the Christian period of Allhallowtide.

Traditions connected with the holiday include honoring the deceased using calaveras & marigold flowers known as cempazúchitl, building home altars called ofrendas with the favorite foods & beverages of the departed & visiting graves with these items as gifts for the deceased.

 The celebration is not solely focused on the dead, as it is also common to give gifts to friends such as candy sugar skulls, to share traditional pan de muerto with family & friends, & to write light-hearted & often irreverent verses in the form of mock epitaphs dedicated to living friends & acquaintances, a literary form known as calaveras literarias.

 Some argue that there are Indigenous Mexican or ancient Aztec influences that account for the custom & it has become a way to remember those forebears of Mexican culture.

• All Saint's Day(November 1st)- 

Also known as All Hallows' Day or the Feast of All Saints is a Christian solemnity celebrated in honour of all the saints of the Church, whether they are known or unknown.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

[taylorswiftstyle]

The Eras Tour | Fearless section | Version 6

Roberto Cavalli custom

The Eras Tour is back for its final run and with it, of course, new costumes. Taylor debuted a handful during last night’s opening North American leg date in Miami, Florida - most by Fausto Puglisi for Roberto Cavalli.

Including V6 of the Fearless dress which continues the ‘noodle’ design we see on the gold and silver V2 and V3 of this dress but makes it shorter and adds a dash of “light sapphire and aurora borealis” embellishments, according to the designer. I feel that the last two custom additions to this portion of the set (V5 debuted on Roberto Cavalli home turf in Milan, Italy back in July) feel, to me, a little more off the original Fearless aesthetic than the other variations.

Where the Eras Tour costuming best excels is in refreshing and modernizing iconic looks from eras past. Nodding to their originals so as to maintain an essence of familiarity to journey through Taylor’s eras aesthetically and sonically, but making them fun and fresh for new audience. So many costumes have handled this allusion through updated designs handily. But here, I’m struggling a bit to connect the powder blue stones and sequins with original Fearless. Though the new short length does keep things fun and twirly (and Fearless certainly helped to iconify the dramatic on stage hair toss for Taylor). If I were reaching, there are certainly *some* iconic Fearless moments that happened with blue (the 2010 Grammys dress where she won Album of the Year for Fearless immediately comes to mind as well as the many references to rain on the album) but I am not quite seeing the vision here.

If I were assessing this sans era connect, this shade of blue is really pretty on Taylor. But I also think the effect of the blue design could have been applied more broadly across the dress. It sort of looks like a ‘woops’ spill here.

Currently, I stand by my ranking that Versions 1 and 4 come closest to honouring the original aesthetic of the Fearless era. Your thoughts?

Worn with: Christian Louboutin boots

Photo by John Shearer/TAS24 via Getty Images

[thecupidwitch]

Planetary Magick🌙

Sun

Zodiac: Leo

Metal: Gold

Day: Sunday

Colors: organge, yellow, amber

Stones: Amber, topaz, ruby, diamond

Tarot: The Sun

Herbs: Angelica, poppy, sunflower, marigold, hibiscus, mistletoe

Symbols: lion, hexagram, sparrow hawk, dragon, head, heart, swan

Influences: renown, potency, fortune, tyranny, pride, ambition, masculinity, arrogance, bigotry, vitality, health

Moon

Zodiac: cancer

Metal: sliver

Day: Monday

Colors: blue, sliver

Stones: moonstone, pearl

Tarot: The High Priestess, The Chariot

Herbs: eucalyptus, coconut, jasmine, lotus, myrrh, sandalwood

Symbols: bow and arrow, crab, cat, turtle, Sphinx, owl

Influences: gradtitufe, friendliness, safe, travel, physical health, wealth, protection for enemies, deception, illusion, women, emotions, healing, dreams

Mercury

Zodiac: Virgo, Gemini

Metal: aluminum, Mercury

Day: Wednesday

Colors: violet, gray, purple, indigo, yellow

Stones: opal agate

Tarot: The Lovers

Herbs: hyssop, juniper, betony, carrot, chickweed

Symbols: wand, octagram, the mind

Influences: good fortune, gratitude, gain, memory, understanding, divination, dreams, forgetfulness, communication, business, cleverness, creativity, information, intellect, memory, perception, science, wisdom, gambling, writing, root of dishonesty, deception

Venus

Zodiac: taurus, libra

Metal: copper

Day: Friday

Colors: green, pink

Stones: turquoise, emerald, sapphire, jade

Tarot: The Empress

Herbs: jimsonweed, violet, rose, alder, apple, angelica, olive, sesame

Symbols: sparrow, dove, swan, pentagram

Influences: peace, agreements, cooperation, fertility, joy, love, good fortune, jealousy, strife, promiscuity

Mars

Zodiac: aries, scorpio

Metal: iron, red brass, steel

Day: Tuesday

Color: Red

Stones: ruby, garnet, bloodstone, diamond

Tarot: The Tower

Herbs: ginger, mustard

Symbols: sword, pentagram, horse, bear, wolf, vulture

Influences: war, victory, judgements, submission of enemies, bleeding, stripping one of rank, harness, discord, conflict, aggression, lust, power, courage, goals, protection, motivation, ambition, strength

Jupiter

Zodiac: pisces, sagittarius

Metal: tin

Day: Thursday 

Colors: blue

Stone: sapphire

Tarot: The Wheel of Fortune

Herbs: balm, hyssop, maple leaf and bark, oak, sage, dandelion root

Symbols: eagle, dolphin

Influences: gains, riches, favor, peace, cooperation, appeasing enemies, dissolving

Saturn

Zodiac: capricorn

Metal: lead

Day: Saturday

Color: black

Stone: onyx

Taror: The World

Herbs: alder, apple, ash, asparagus, baneberry, belladonna, distort, hellebore, blackthorn, corm, cypress

Symbols: cuttlefish, mole

Influences: safety, power, success, positive response to requests, intellect, causes discord, strips honor, melancholy

Uranus

Zodiac: aquarius

Day: Thursday

Colors: blue-green, electric blue

Stones: quartz, labradorite, blue topaz, amber, amethyst, garnet, diamond

Tarot: The Fool

Herbs: clover, pokeweed, snowdrop, foxglove, love, rosemary, trees of heaven, hellebore, morning glory, sage, wintergreen, orchids, sweet woodruff

Symbols: dragonfly, butterfly

Influences: breaking connection, sudden and unexpected change, freedom, originality, radical and revolutionary ideas, enlightenment, equality, individuality, rebellion, instability, loneliness, boredom, mistrust of self

Neptune

Zodiac: pisces

Minerals: coral, aquamarine, platinum, neptunium

Colors: green, blue, lavender

Tarot: The Hanged Man

Herbs: morning glory, night-blooming jasmine, pine, water lily

Symbols: the sea, Trident, the spine

Influences: dissolving boundaries, expanding upon ideas, changing established rules, intuition, idealism, sacrifice, glamour, illusion, evolution, decay, visions, art, healing, inspiration, dreams, creativity, compassion, drifting from reality, carelessness, stubbornness, absent mind

Pluto

Zodiac: scorpio

Metal: plutonium, tin chrome, steel

Day: Tuesday

Colors: maroon, dark red, purple, white, black

Stones: snowflake obsidian, clack tourmaline

Tarot: Judgement

Herbs: pomegranate, rosemary, vanilla, basil, poppies, belladonna, foxglove

Symbols: Phoenix, snake, scorpion, fox, eagle

Influences; destruction making way for renewal, rebirth, knowledge, spirituality, transformation, destiny, the subconscious, desire, arrogance, death, obsession, destruction

[arcielee]

Ours never knew peace.

Summary: On the morning of the Great Tourney of Harrenhal, Lyanna Stark's granddam visits to give her an heirloom, a necklace with a sapphire stone... Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader Word Count: 7600 Warnings: Third POV and first POV, AFAB, mentions of infidelity, graphic violence, character deaths, and there is a hyperlink for the smut, so mind those warnings too. Author’s Note:  I definitely played with the timeline of the Dance of the Dragons a lot to fit with the narrative. Also, the idea is the bloodline stems from Cregan Stark's sister, which is why Lyanna's granddam is still kicking. Also, this was not beta read, please feel free to DM me any mistakes you may find 💜 A huge thank you to my Tumblr kindred spirits: to @aegonx for this inspiring gifset, and to my darling @itbmojojoejo for these perfect dividers 🦝💜 Also, to Hozier. I started writing this in June and had not touched it until I started listening to Unreal Unearth. The title for this and the smutty one-shot are from the song Francesca.

“I have a gift for you, my dear.”

Lyanna was leaning against the ornate balustrade and watching how the sun rose above Gods Eye. She drank in the sight of the rays dancing against the blue-green gemstone surface, shimmering with the rippling waves that met with the shoreline and towards the center where the Isle of Faces jutted upwards; she saw the weirwoods shift lazily with the breeze, its red foliage breaking away and littering the laketop, drops of blood.

She pulled her eyes away to see her granddam standing in her room, poised with her walking cane; a handmaiden was in tow, carrying a wooden box that had once been intricately carved into, though its detailing was now worn with age. 

Her granddamn was the matriarch of House Stark and the only mother figure she had ever known as hers passed away when she was very young, leaving Lyanna with her father and three brothers: Brandon, Eddard, and Benjen. Though she originally had come from a noble house in Oldcastle, she had been proud to don the grays and whites of House Stark, dignified in such a way it seemed that she was born into and not just married. 

Her reputation was notorious and though some would consider her shrewd, Lyanna knew her granddam had a sharp mind and wit, an undeniable ability to see beyond the façades of court with her storm colored eyes; she was gallant, devoted to her husband until his last breath and remained in Winterfell after, her devotion extending to the North. 

“This is my home,” she had explained as if it was the simplest thing. “Always.” 

Time now showed itself in silver streaks, a bold contrast with her dark hair that had been meticulously combed and knotted at the base of her neck, showing the severity that lined her features. This look alone had the other handmaidens–who before had been aimlessly flitting around her room, coaxing Lyanna to ready for the day’s events–quickly excuse themselves, allowing her a moment alone with her granddaughter.  

“Set it there,” and the remaining handmaiden jumped to command, placing the wooden box on the vanity before following after the others. 

There was the click of her cane with her sure steps, one hand resting on the gilded handles and the other coming to place on the edge of the wooden box, its brass hinges groaning in response to her opening it. Placed against the velvet inlay was a necklace of a peculiar silver that did not shine, but seemed to permeate a strength despite its delicate, celtic chains interwoven with one another; its pendant, a sapphire stone no larger than a silver pence, was nestled in the same style, curled around to hold it in place. 

Only the stone gleamed, just like the water’s surface–alluring, calling, but she kept her hand at her side. “It is beautiful,” Lyanna acknowledged. 

“It is reforged Valyrian steel,” her granddam continued, and she was pleased to see how her eyes widened with a reverence for the rare medium. “This is a heirloom that has been passed down, once belonging to your thrice over granddam. It is something for you to wear today.” 

Lyanna remained rooted, only a wistful sigh in response. “This is my duty in life now, to be adorned in gems and silks and rare silvers, just to be shown off at this event.” 

“It is our lot in life, yes,” her tone cut through the self-wallow. “Lord Whent wants nothing more than to parade the money he poured into this cursed castle, to show off his simple-minded daughter to the highest bid. The queen of love and beauty,” and her laugh was sharp, “only her brothers would defend that nepotist title!” 

Lyanna felt her lips curl; she loved her granddam, dearly, especially when she was unabashed with her bold opinions. Her eyes fell back to the necklace. “Love and beauty,” Lyanna murmured. “No man has want for a clever wife.” 

It was her turn to sigh. “This can be true, but some are fortunate with their matches.” 

“Robert has no want for a clever wife,” Lyanna continued as if she had not spoken. “He wants something docile and pretty at his side while he wags his cock at every set of tits in Westeros.” She could see how the inside sagged with the weight of the necklace and a bundle of parchment that was tucked beneath, hidden in the folds of the fabric. 

Her granddam plucked the paper bundled together with string and then moved back towards one of the overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace. “My dear girl, love is always unexpected. Perhaps in time, despite the faults you each share,” she gave a knowing look as Lyanna moved back towards the bed, “you, hopefully, may have a gradual love and respect grow between.” 

“He is already convinced it is love,” she sat back on the mattress, sinking against the goose feather pillows piled at the head. “But it is with this idea of me. He does not know me, who I am truly or what it is that drives me…” her eyes were drawn again to the box, opened still, and to the glint of the sapphire. “How did this come to our possession anyway?” 

“It was a gift,” her granddam scoffed, untying the string and smoothing the letters on her lap. 

Lyanna closed her eyes a moment, her own smile playing at her lips. “Yes,” her tone forced, “but who would have gifted this to her to begin with?” 

Her granddam hummed, now her turn to smile. “How clever of you to ask, sweet girl,” but she did not answer Lyanna. “I saw how you are blossoming into a lovely young woman, especially after last night’s banquet,” and she saw that her granddaughter grinned, cheeky. “Ancestry has its weight with House Stark, and I thought now is the time to gift this necklace, just as your grandsire gifted it to me, and how it was given to your mother, who listened to me read this, years ago,” and she gestured to the letters.  

Lyanna reached for the pillows, fluffing them and sinking back into them, her arms folding behind to hold her head upright. “I would never deny my granddam of my company,” she teased.

“Yes, how kind of you,” her tongue wet her lips, her eyes flitting over the first page. “Now shut up and let my old eyes read.” 

And so she began.

It was the unmartyred act of my mother to bring me into the world. My father was a proud man, an honorable man who would never blame me, but I could see how he would wilt in my presence; perhaps it was that I reminded him of her as I grew, reminded him of the cost of her life so I may live instead. My brother, Cregan, kept his grief quiet, though it clouded his storm-gray eyes with this pain, this hurt that shadowed behind his irises. 

With the unsaid, I know my existence haunted my father, Lord Rickon Stark, the Warden of the North, to his grave. It was only then that Cregan truly recognized me with our sorrow now shared, as well as the burden as our uncle Bennard was quick to come to Winterfell, bringing his shrewd wife and his sons, our wretched cousins. 

I could only watch from the shadows with how Cregan fought to stay afloat with the smothering regency brought with them; our uncle was cunning, wishing to isolate my brother, which was why it was decided for me to be sent away to King’s Landing. It was under the promised lady-in-waiting for Princess Helaena Targaryen, though its true intention was for me to marry a Targaryen prince, for the opportunity to have a Stark within the royal inner circle and a direct line to the Iron Throne. 

Cregan hugged me farewell, the whispered promise that he would write, and I was ushered into the carriage, cramped with my trunks, and my aunt Margaret, with her wardrobe and endless idylls of how I would lure King Aegon II. 

I reminded her that King Viserys was not dead, and of the crowned Princess Rhaenyra. She bristled with her response: “No woman will ever rule the Seven Kingdoms.” She embellished this, and her inane plans to make me a princess; I had just turned ten and three with the soured taste of her words the further south we traveled. 

We arrived at the capital almost two months later, coming as the last of the daylight disappeared in the horizon, with the full moon and stars already glowing in response. I wished to sleep, but was forced to bathe, to be soaked in a gilded tub with rose petals that floated on the surface while hands flitted over combing and scrubbing and cleaning every bit of me, all while my aunt hovered with her critiques. 

The next day was our debut luncheon, allowing my formal introduction to the House of the Dragon. My aunt was peevish that the king did not join, we still met with the queen and Lord Hand, who introduced Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena. 

It was said that Prince Daeron was away in Oldtown and Prince Aemond would not attend either, but did not speak more of it. 

The prince and the princess held their old blood features, the shades of purple in their gazes and the gold-silver of their hair, a contrast to their mother’s auburn and her dark eyes that were watchful and worrisome. 

Prince Aegon already had an exhaustion lining his face, with shadows that stretched beneath his lilac eyes, something heavy for someone only two years older than myself. In time I would learn that his shoulders sagged with the forced Hightower expectation placed, and its accompanying slow suffocation. The prince responded to it as well as any adolescent with unwanted responsibility: to rebel. 

The princess–who we learned, to the woe of my aunt–was his betrothed, but that day she also became my savior, in a sense. Though she carried her own burdens, something deeply rooted within the ichor of Old Valyria that surged her veins, her company was enjoyable, nonetheless. 

I enjoyed my time spent with the princess, learning of her fascination with entomology, with a favoritism that stemmed towards arachnids; though I found it unsettling, I still knew it was better company than my aunt. I was devoted to the task to fill mason jars with dirt, leaves, sticks to create little habitats for her ever growing collection, and it became our daily ritual to walk the gardens of the Red Keep, always in search of more to add or to release others who dutifully served their time in their glass confines. 

One thing I noted was her utterances, her singsong riddles on repeat. “Be mindful,” she said with a hum one afternoon.

“Of what, princess?”

“A song of ice and fire,” her eyes were glassy, sorrowful. “It is a tragedy, again and again…” 

My evenings were held captive by my aunt and her ever growing determination to force her way into the royal social circles; her daily mantra to remind me of the two remaining Targaryen princes, how I need my focus to be on snaring one of them. 

I knew that Prince Daeron was a child and away in Oldtown, which left the second son of King Viserys, Prince Aemond, who I thought peculiar and quiet. He was isolated the first six months after we arrived, and I heard the whispered incident at Diftmark that had involved the crowned princess and her bastard sons; I also learned how it ended with the loss of his eye, but that was not learned until Princess Helaena brought me to visit with her brother. 

“It would be good for him,” and her lilac eyes sparkled. 

He was sullen, but rightfully so; he was still bandaged and refused the milk of the poppy, though I knew he was hurting, his anguish was vicariously heard with the roars of his dragon, Vhagar, whose bellows rattled the entire capital, leaving the inhabitants uneasy. 

Eventually, Prince Aemond healed enough to leave his room, though the queen was still adamant he not venture outside of the Keep. I watched him, a dragon caged, stalking the corridors, a dark passing in search of confrontation, his unbridled want for vengeance and his inability to see it through; a tormented unrest, an unruly anger from the injustice of what happened that fateful night at Driftmark.  

I had been present for over a year and would inevitably have the misfortune to cross his warpath, alone, without my shield of his sister. It was a foreboding presence that drained the air, a palpable anger that hung heavy, and I flinched, perched by the window, curled up with Ten Thousand Ships. 

“What are you doing here?” He spat. 

I remember how his anger darkened his features shown, but the rest was still hidden beneath bandages wrapped around his silver head. “Reading,” was all I dared reply, refusing to look away from the pages as if the very tale of Nymeria held me captive. 

“They educate the women in the North?”

His words were mocking and this is when I pulled my eyes away to meet with his one uncovered. “The North does not only teach their women how to read, but how to fight as well, my prince,” my tongue had a life of its own I could not control, sneering his title in return.

Her granddam paused a moment, peering over the edge to see how Lyanna had shifted; she was now closer towards the foot of the bed, curled up with one of the pillows, her eyes glowing with admiration. 

“My great-great-great granddam was fearless,” Lyanna concluded.

She chuckled in response. “It is a trait in Stark women, that is for certain,” she clucked her tongue. “Stark men also search for strong women to survive the winters. Maybe another day I will tell you about your great-great-great aunt Alysanne Blackwood.” 

Her eyes shone. “I would like that very much.” 

And then, her granddam continued. 

I would learn that Prince Aemond was just lonely; allowed out of his quarters, his mar was forever isolating with how the castled treated him with kid gloves, like an open wound that never healed despite the jagged red of new flesh mended, cutting from his brow to his cheek and peeking beneath the eyepatch he took to wearing. Though he would never apologize for that day in the library, the next time I found him within the walls I saw he was lost in the pages of Winter’s Kings, or the Legends and Lineages of the Starks of Winterfell. 

I could only assume it was all the apology that could be expected of a dragon prince. 

Our friendship was something predetermined by the gods, or this was what Princess Helaena wholeheartedly believed; for a time, we were a trio of lonely souls akin and knitted together until the princess inevitably became pregnant with the twins. And then, there was the subtle change of our dynamic with the seasons passed, an initial wariness that settled in the edges of his features that only softened whenever I took his hand and pulled him forward. 

Perhaps he believed that I would abandon him for his sister’s company, which would be expected of her lady-in-waiting. But I did not. 

Instead I indulged the prince and his company, and we became inseparable; whether we visited with his sister, playing with the little prince and princess, while Helaena budding with a third, or going to the courtyards to train under Ser Criston’s watchful eye and my aunt’s apparent disdain. It was then that the evenings became our own and spent in the library of the Keep; it was here that Aemond dared remove his eyepatch, the sapphire stone that showed brilliant from his scarred socket. 

The first time, I stepped closer so his nervous exhale fanned my cheeks; I could see the plumes of pinks to his features, my fingers ghosting his jawline as I attempted his ancient tongue. “Gevie.” 

Beautiful. 

Prince Aemond was respectful, always, but he was also fearless with me, allowing the same sense of freedom in return, to speak my mind as I always had. But I faltered with what I truly wished to say: that the years crafted him beautiful as any Targaryen prince, with sharp edges chiseled from marble stone, his lips that curled with a perpetual smirk as he voiced his peculiar insight which always led to a good natured battlement between us, leaving me flushed. 

And then the day came that he took my hand, that his palm now enveloped my own. 

It was the familiar touch now paired with a feeling, a fluttering in the pit of my stomach that I could not place, though writing these words allows a clearer perspective with the retrospect: that I was falling in love with him. 

My aunt grew more insufferable with the passing days, though I expected as much with the letters I exchanged with Cregan. I knew his every action in Winterfell, what he was learning, of his sweetheart Lady Arra Norrey, my new nephew, but mostly of how our uncle continued to tighten his hold. My brother was a wolf, restless, and spoke that his hour was coming; and meanwhile, I continued to play my role, a simpleminded girl from the North. 

My aunt tsked. “He will never see you as more than a plaything,” as if this was a cruel fate. In truth I was still so unaware of what was growing within the confines of my heart, but I knew that I only wished to remind at his side, devoted, present, always. 

So when Aemond asked that I finally become acquainted with Vhagar, I went. I remembered how my hand fit within his as he pulled me to follow his steps, moving through the ingresses that weaved with the castle walls. We broke out to follow the coastline, a crisp salt air and the clouds covering the sun, heavy with the threat of rain, but Aemond promised we would rise above them. 

I followed his long steps until we came to where Vhagar waited for her rider, diligent, alert. 

Dragons are magnificent creatures, and I swear them sentient with the bond I saw between Aemond and the she-dragon. Fear trickled my spine, but Aemond held onto my hand and I tightened in response to the massive eyes that focused on us, her pupils constricting in query. Aemond held up his other hand, the honey spill of his soothing voice of his old tongue to coax her and allow me to climb aback. 

I then felt the gaze of Aemond and refused to allow my fear to root me, moving to take the bottom rung of the rope ladder; he was pleased, a hum, the slight curl of his lips, and followed behind me with his promise that he would not let me fall. At the top, he pushed past to settle into the saddle, then reached to pull me behind and I settled against his backside. 

“Just hold onto me,” he murmured, bringing my arms around his slender waist. 

This moment I was adamantly aware that he was no longer that sullen child that sneered within his gilded cage, but against my hold that Aemond was solid, lithe, and so warm with a woodsy musk mixed with smoke against his skin. 

Pressed against, I was able to feel his low baritone command Vhagar, followed by her jolted steps forward, the beating of her wings to take flight. To feel this power beneath you is indescribable; I could not help my scream, my laughter from the exhilaration that that spate my veins; I dared not close my eyes, tears streaming, and I peered to marvel at how small the capital seemed beneath, how large the shadow we cast overhead. 

It was a newfound euphoria, and I felt my cheeks burn from the crisp air above the gray clouds, but I also knew it was from my close proximity to Aemond. I held onto him as we soared out over Blackwater Bay, and sighed from the touch of his gloved hand, from the heat that permeated through the leather when he placed it over my own. 

And I knew then that I never wished to let him go. 

He eventually brought Vhagar back to land onto the grassy knolls outside the city; the afternoon was growing late but there was still enough light to return. Aemond warned that my legs would be shaky and again he moved first, again with the promise he would not let me fall. 

I still trembled when he set me on the ground, his large palms kept their hold on my waist and my hands rested on his broad shoulders. My eyes were wide admiring the beauty of his mussed, silver braid, his cheeks lined with his dimples with his pursed grin. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Enjoy myself?” I was incredulous, I was a mess; windswept and blooming red, a grinning fool with tear-streaked cheeks, “Aemond, you showed me the heavens.” And a boldness pressed me onto my toes, my lips against his. 

It was my first kiss; it was a heartbeat’s length, it was everything, and when I pulled back, I fell solid to the earth, my soles grounded back on that gassy knoll. I looked up into his bicolored gaze, the lavender of one eye and the gleam of sapphire for the other that stared back. 

Aemond was unreadable in that moment, and I felt my blood surge from my heart and pour into my face; the quiet that settled between us the same length of the years I had spent in King’s Landing, a choking regret that burned in my throat with the thought that I had ruined everything built between us. 

Then he kissed me back. 

And I felt alive once more with the touch of his arm that curled around my waist, how his other hand followed the curve of my spine, tangling into my hair and holding me to capture my mouth. His lips were warm and soft and his tongue clever in a way that drew the very breath from my lungs. I melted against him, my fingertips soft to follow the sharp contours of his jaw, trailing his neck and grasping his collar to bring him even closer.

We only parted for air; the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath his riding leathers, the crimson on his cheeks with his quiet confession, something he held close to his heart.

“For how long?” I breathed

And he thought for a moment. “Always.” 

To take his hand now was finding a piece that I did not know was missing from me; our fingers interlaced in a way that felt akin as if I held my own hand, though I knew it was him from the warmth of his skin, from the fire in his blood. By now the tendrils of dusk began to curl over the city, its amber hues bold against the blues and purples of the coming nightfall, but we continued our leisure pace back, Aemond and I. 

We were greeted by the gold cloaks at the gates and they escorted us back, and though he did not let go, I saw that it was no longer Aemond who held my hand but the second son of King Viserys, a Targaryen prince. He was stoic, but this time I could tell the other emotions that flittered beneath, his uncertainty of what awaited, but above that was his determination. 

We finally came to the barbican of the Keep where we were greeted by his queen mother, my aunt, and several White Cloaks. 

Relief washed over the queen while my aunt raged, lifting her skirts to meet us in the courtyard, her nails biting with her grip on my arm and pulling me back; the rushed spill of her words, “I cannot believe this unseemly behavior of a lady, unchaperoned with a prince! We are leaving this moment–”

I tried to twist away but she held on still, a madwoman. Aemond moved after, quick, and his anger burning from him and his long legs moved to block her path. “She will not be leaving.”

The finality of his words, the barrier his form created halted her at once and I felt my heart between my teeth. “My prince,” she stammered in response. “We must leave this very moment! We have imposed on your hospitality far too long as it is, and when my lord husband hears of her behaviors–” 

But she was unaware that Cregan and I wrote, dutifully; he shared his life within the walls of Winterfell, as well as his growing concern with the regency our uncle imposed still. She also did not know the newest letter I had received, how my brother was now the proper Warden of the North and our uncle imprisoned; my aunt paled with my words and it was commanded for her to be taken away. She did not leave quietly, her wails echoed and I watched impassively, knowing her every action was a self-serving and a selfish ploy for power for herself, her husband, for those wretched cousin kin in the North. 

And I knew I would not miss any of them. 

Ever the diplomat, the queen stepped forward with her congratulations for my brother, her condolences for the betrayal within our family, her practiced concern for my well being and its shift to confusion that knitted between her brows when she saw how I smiled at her son. She offered my escort back to Winterfell, but I was quick to decline as I knew I could not leave Aemond. 

I saw the understanding began to roll over, and she then asked her son if he loved me. Aemond responded, “I believe I always have, mother,” and I knew I loved him in return. 

It was decided that the ceremony would be held in the Royal Sept, and chaperoned until, though Aemond stole a moment to gift me this very necklace. I could feel the power of Old Valyria thrum from the metal, adoring how it was woven around the sapphire stone; he told me it was a piece kept from the same stone fitted for his eye.  

I lifted my hair and turned my back towards him, my skin prickling from his touch to clasp the necklace around my throat. 

He hummed. “Gevie.” 

Only a week later, and the service seemed surreal. I felt his warmth that held to the robe he brought around my shoulders, the touch of my palm on top of his large hand kept me grounded while the Septon wrapped the ribbon around; shy glances shared, me to Aemond and seeing his gaze on the sapphire stone beneath my collarbone. The muted words called for a kiss and I burned when Aemond captured my mouth with his own. 

The celebration after was an intimate meal with the king, who was a man withering away beneath a gilded mark, the queen, his siblings, and the Lord Hand, who seemed pleased with the idea of solidifying a truce with the North. 

But I could not think of politics this night, not with the subtle touches from Aemond, a warmth that curled in my lower abdomen when he inevitably took my hand, his low voice that tickled against my ear. “Come with me, my sweet wife,” as we walked towards his quarters.

Her granddam stopped abruptly, flushed. “Well, you understand what is implied.”

“Understand what?” Lyanna quirked her brow. 

It was a pregnant pause that allowed her eyes steel onto her granddaughter, and Lyanna returned her gaze with a cheeky, taunting grin. 

“It would serve you well to not agitate your elders.” 

“What a bore I would be if I was just another docile woman of nobility?” Lyanna countered, gleefully. “Granddam, Robert has bastards and I am no fool, I do not believe his immaculate conception claims…” 

“Yes, you are very bright,” she huffed. “Now hush up and let me read.” 

Our marital bliss that followed left me in a haze; Aemond was not one for public displays of affection and how I craved his subtle touches, his lingering hand that would have me blushing furiously in response. He would only hum, his perpetual smirk that played on his lips with my every visceral response to him. 

I wrote to Cregan and informed him of our union; he was quick to respond with his congratulations, as well as his newfound concerns, asking if it was true that the crowned princess had sired bastards with the intention to make them her heirs without ownership of her actions. 

“Our father was honorable until his last breath,” he wrote, “I would not besmirch his memory or our house, our legacy, for an oath made for bastard-born heirs to the Iron Throne.”

This was a topic I had already discussed in length with Aemond, even before we had even kissed. I was aware of his scar and its cause, and I knew of the old blood and the features lacking when it came to his nephews, something made apparent for the claimant hearings of Dirftmark, as well as the cruel response of Prince Daemon when a lord spoke out loud what the court was thinking. 

I answered my brother truthfully, knowing full well that this would sway the North behind Prince Aegon II.

And then King Viserys met his inevitable demise; the small council moved quick to announce that his final words were that he wished his firstborn son to take the crown. Aegon panicked, but my husband and Ser Criston fetched him, washed him, fed him, but also comforted him. 

It would be Ser Criston who coaxed him to the coronation, to be the one to place the crown of steel and rubies on top of his silver head, announcing: “King Viserys is dead, long live King Aegon!”

My husband would be sent to Storm’s End to negotiate a betrothal for his brother, Daeron, to one of the Four Storms. It resulted in tragedy, or vengeance on who spoke the narrative. The room stilled with Aemond’s words, the unspoken terror in the queen’s large, brown eyes, the shock that lined the severe features of the Lord Hand, but it was his brother, King Aegon wearing the Conqueror’s Crown who spoke that Aemond had shown the true blood of a dragon. 

But in the quiet quarters we shared, Aemond lamented the loss of life, the war it started, a guilt that weighed heavily, and once more I saw the sorrowful prince when I first came to King’s Landing. 

“There will be repercussions for my actions,” he rasped, unable to meet with my eyes. “I have ruined my namesake, and I have cursed our family…” 

“War seemed inevitable,” I began slowly, my hands careful to hold his jaw, to bring his gaze to my own. “And with it comes rash decisions, with impossible choices to be made…I trust it was not intentional, but even if it was, cursed or not, I am still yours, husband.” A soft kiss to seal my words. “Always.” 

War and its bloodshed was rampant in Westeros, and my brother wrote they would travel South when winter ended to help King Aegon with his rightful claim. I feared for the delay, for what would follow Storm’s End, and how it seemingly unleashed the Rogue Prince. 

Hired men with the monikers Blood and Cheese came in the night, and I knew them to be sent for me, as one repeated, “An eye for an eye, a son for son,” but followed with his slow realization, “she is not a son,” before his sword was drawn and struck Prince Jaehaerys. 

The screams of Helaena resounded against the cobblestone; Aemond found us covered in blood, his rage and his grief conflicting on his angular features. The king cried for vengeance for his firstborn son, to search for these men and place their heads on spikes; the kingdom was repulsed by the murder of the princeling, a martyr made with his blood spilled. 

Aegon’s bloodlust made for rash decisions and the battle of Rook’s Rest; though one dragon and its rider slain, its cost was the king crippled in a way that he was not fit to rule. So Aemond stepped forward to take the title Prince Regent and the Protector of the Realm, a natural role that was suited for the second son. 

The Rogue Prince struck against the Riverlands, torching until ash remained. In response, the now Prince Regent and Ser Criston left to claim Harrenhal. 

I was told to wait, to remain at the side of our grieving queen, my sister by all accounts; I watched over sweet Helaena, coaxing her to eat, washing her, sitting alongside her in the haunting silence of the quarters that somehow still echoed her screams from that fateful night. We were often left alone, as the maesters and the dowager queen never left King Aegon’s side, and I remained with her until I received the latest letter from Aemond. 

Harrenhal had been dispelled of every Strong traitor to the crown, and he spoke of a witch he wished me to meet, that I was to leave King’s Landing and be by his side, as the gods ordained. 

A quick kiss to the silver head of Helaena and I left the castle, careful to retrace our steps that led to the coast and I continued until I was back on the grassy knolls from what felt like a lifetime ago. I waited the skies until I felt the rumbled call of Vhagar in the distance, gleeful when she finally landed and watched my prince descend to envelope me in his arms, his whispered adoration, “My love, my sweet wife.” 

We returned to Harrenhal to meet with the witch he spared, a hushed reverence when he told me of her abilities. “She sees much and more.” 

I could see she was hardened by life, but her expression was kind when she greeted us; her eyes roamed around, watchful, looking through to my bones and only then did I understand what my husband meant. 

At supper, we sat around the table, along with Ser Criston, and her eyes watched the flicker of candlelight, the flames licking her irises, before she spoke: “Madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.”

Aemond finished chewing before he asked her. “And I am which?”

Alys’ eyes were black, her painted lips curled and framed around her pearl teeth. “To be the greatness, you must end the madness,” was all that she offered, and then, “the Rogue Prince is coming.” 

Ser Criston looked uneasy, but it was a silent understanding in regards to her statement, something that pressed heavily on us both. King Aegon could only have a true chance to rule the realm if his sister lost the power she had with her husband, the Rogue Prince; it was known that he was unruly, untamed, but loyal to a fault, and willing to see it through to its brutal end. 

That night, we fell back into an intimate embrace, cherishing the feeling of skin to skin–

Her granddam was crimson. “Oh, my, I believe I should skip this as well–”

She watched her granddam a moment, the intrusive thought to take the letters for her own readthrough, but it was muted by a growing sadness that began to settle in the edges of her sharp features. Lyanna knew well the history of the Dance of the Dragons, something scrawled on scrolls and tomes, its tragedy saved in ink and tucked away.

And still, she had to know this truth.  

“Please,” and her voice was soft. “Please, continue.” 

And granddam did. 

It was the 22nd day of the 5th moon and we waited on the shores of Gods Eye, myself, Aemond, and the witch. Ser Criston rode North to meet with my brother, and we remained, waiting. 

It had been a vision for Alys, something sinister; it was no surprise when the wyrm screeched its arrival, circling above, wary of Vhagar, before finally landing. Prince Daemon had an arrogance with his dismount, with his walk towards us. 

There was a symmetry as they squared towards one another; the Rogue Prince was cloaked with the past and my Aemond embodied the future, the true hope for House Targaryen. My husband faced him, unflinching, his brow furrowed with his ever present determination, while Daemon rolled his eyes over the each of us, sucking his teeth. 

Aemond broke the silence. “You were a fool to come alone.”

“Were I not alone, you would not have come,” Daemon was amused. 

But it did not deter my dragon. “Yet you are, and here I am,” he sighed. “You have lived too long, nuncle.”

“On that much we agree.”

The prince retreated to his wyrm and Aemond looked to me, his eye pleading, the glassy lavender that bore through my skin, and the gleam of sapphire for the other. He then dipped forward to kiss me and the tears pearling in the corners of my eyes spilled onto my cheeks at the taste of him, the touch of him; I knew I could never imagine anyone else. Those words stilled on my tongue, how I wanted him to beg to stay with me, but I also knew that he must. 

“Do not say it,” my voice broke, hushed against our kiss swollen lips. “Just come back to me.” 

His two fingers pressed against the sapphire pendant I wore, before leaning forward to press his lips to my hairline, and then he climbed aback Vhagar, his lithe body quick to mount. I remained on the sand with the witch at my side, and we watched these winged beasts rise above us. 

Dragons are truly magnificent, but they are also equally deadly. I trusted Vhagar was loyal to Aemond, but also knew it matched by the bond shared between Prince Daemon and his wyrm. It was said that Targaryens are closer to gods than to men, and I believed this as I watched them on dragonback, circling above the massive lake. Their roars vibrated through to our bones, the snapping of the jaws like cracks of lighting and their flames that singed the threads of my gown from my place on the shore. 

My eyes did not leave, and I asked Alys. “Will he live?” 

She was quiet for a moment. “The memory of him will live on,” and I felt her hand reach and touch my stomach. 

And all I could do was hold onto my pendant with prayers to the old golds, to the new gods for mercy for my husband, whose child I carried. 

They did not listen.

It was a clash of scale and bone, something that reverberated to Harrenhal and rattled the castle walls that still stood. The wyrm’s screams were cut short as the massive maw of Vhagar clamped onto its neck, and its talons flailed and cut deep into the old dragon’s underside. Blood rained onto the lake and I watched, struck with mortification at the dull glint of Valyrian armor, the flash raise of Dark Sister, and I knew it was over. 

I remained on the shore as the waves created from the fall of dead dragons crashed against the sand, a blood foam that flooded and wet my skirts. I remained still as the sun tucked beneath the horizon, until I heard the call of the witch. 

“My lady, the wolves have arrived.” 

This would be the shift of power needed for King Aegon II; the Rogue Prince was dead and his men fell to the sword under the command of my brother and Ser Criston. Cregan was shocked to see me and I was stoic still, dumbstruck with my grief that did not feel real; we returned to King’s Landing with the Northern army, quick to dethrone Rhaenyra and place her in the cells with the company of all the lords who supported her. 

King Aegon was scarred cruelly with a gimp to his steps, but he made his way to the Iron Throne, his crown of rubies and steel, and greeted his mother and the queen. This joyous moment died as I was tasked to share the news of the death of Aemond, of my husband and father of my unborn child; we cried our heartbreak, but I had no tears left. 

This pivotal moment would be known as the Hour of the Wolf by our history. It will speak of the heroism of Prince Aemond and what he sacrificed to kill the Rogue Prince, of how my brother descended onto the capital with a vengeance and helped return the throne to its rightful heir. The casualties of war included the bastard princes, as well as both sons of the king. 

When King Aegon learned that Prince Daeron the Daring met his fatal end, he decided mercy on the remaining Targaryen princelings, Aegon III and Viserys II, with his solemn vow to raise them as his own, as his heirs to the Iron Throne. 

Cregan served as Lord Hand through my pregnancy, for the birth of my darling Lysara with a patch of silver that showed against her dark curls and her eyes the same as her father’s, lavender. My brother had also been widowed but met the Lady Alysanna Blackwood, a woman I admired fiercely, and Lysara was smitten with, and was thrilled when I learned I could call her sister. 

It was then Cregan asked to be relieved so he could return to the North, to his son, and I asked to go with him. My time in King’s Landing was over, with every stone haunted with presence of Aemond; I already swore I would never marry again, would not dare have another set of hands touch and taint the memory of his hands against my body, his touch forever etched onto my skin and seeded into the marrow of my bones. 

Aemond would return to me at night, a silver dream, my body thrumming with the warmth of his touch, his gentle kiss, the low murmur of his voice, but it always ended the same: my realization when my hands pressed to his chest and felt no heartbeat.

That I would never feel it again.

The pain of losing him has not dimmed nor diminished with time, but I do not mind it as it serves as my reminder that he was real, and that the love we shared was real. 

As the witch predicted, Aemond also still lived within Lysara who was solemn, brilliant, and as determined and stubborn as he had been. I made sure to do an annual trip to King’s Landing, allowing her to meet her granddam, her royal family, and so that my daughter could learn that her blood not only held that of the Andals, the first men, but also of the fire that licks within her veins. 

Which is also why I write this, along with the gift of the necklace. It holds legacy, but also the reminder of the words Queen Helaena spoke to me when we were girls, something said a lifetime ago and before I could comprehend the weight of them. 

There is something in the blood of House Stark that calls out to these dragons, perhaps an ancient power of the old gods or a kindred spirit, the disparate bond of ice and fire, a clash that is brilliant, violent, and tragic, always. 

As she once said: a song of ice and fire, it is a tragedy, again and again…

It ended with a finality that rested against her chest. This was a tragic history of the crown, something already written with facts and dates, but this was a personal storying stemming from the blood of Stark woman, and only now did Lyanna begin to understand how the stories remained so vivid, so detailed despite its years of retelling. 

But also…

“What does this mean for me?” Her voice was soft, an almost childlike naivety to her tone. “I am already engaged to Robert Baratheon.”

Her granddam watched her, a tight lipped smile in response as her mind returned to the feast of last night, to the looks shyly exchanged between her granddaughter and the crowned prince, Rhaegar Targaryen, as he played his harp for her. It left her unsettled with a hunch, an inkling about this interaction. 

Instead she agreed. “You are right,” and she sighed. “Let me help you get dressed for the tourney.” 

The new Harranhal swelled with the life for the festivities, with the kingdoms’ best sent in response of Lord Whent’s invites; the new cobblestone seemed bright against the darkened foundation that still held, its ghosts trapped still and trampled underfoot by the crowds as the seats filled, the echoing chattered excitement that vibrated. 

It dimmed with a hushed reverence to see Prince Rhaegar Targaryen entering the field on his steed; his lavender eyes scanned the masses, an intent to spot one soul in particular, and she unknowingly called to him with her sweet smile, by the glint of the sapphire that rested against her chest. 

There's not one thing that I would change.

Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @girlwith-thepearlearring @lauraneedstochill @snowprincesa1 @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii @darylandbethfanforever9 @namelesslosers

arcie's masterlist

[rou-luxe]

ikevil - tips on how to draw william rex

next: harrison ->

what better way to start this than with our beautiful lord rex? I hope I make sense with this guide oml

introduction: you know how you want to draw your favorite characters, but don't know where to start? you know, those characters with ridiculously difficult designs?

this is for ikevil. hope this helps

(there is no tracing whatsoever in this. this was all done by hand. analyzing anothers' artstyle is NOT a form of art stealing. people naturally learn from observing others. imitation is the highest form of flattery. this is not meant to disrespect natsume lemon in any way.) disclaimer, I am not a professional artist. these are not set in stone. these are just tips.

section 1 - observation

finding important traits

my writing sucks. let me sum it up for you

thin, angular features. thin nose, sharp eyebrows, elf sharp ears

his face is quite long. the chin is not completely sharp, it is more blunt.

william has an earring on his left ear.

large forehead to plant a kiss on

his smile is :>

his eyebrows are in a ] shape (I don't know how to describe it)

section 2 - study

imitating the original sprite

this is the part that gets tricky.

it helps me learn better because it translates the reference into something I can understand. it's also so I don't forget anything (so many accessories...)

I crudely slapped the colors from the original onto my imitation to save time 😭😭

let's break down his design.

hair

monstrosity. aesthetically pleasing to look at. but drawing it? hell. I have color-coded it into pieces here:

magenta: back hair. very spiky and a bit long. it's a bit poofy on top (at least on the main sprite)

red: extends outwards. try to have the part dangling down cover the end of the hairline.

yellow: think of it like a little extension from the green section. just dangling down a bit.

green: make it dramatic

blue: similar to red, but smaller and on the other side. tucked behind green.

2. eyes

his eyes are in a parallelogram shape. the slant is similar for both ends.

outer corners extend upwards.

they're not opened very wide.

almost everything is sharp. very little curves.

his pupils are a bit larger than slits.

the inner corners are lowered significantly.

3. clothing

I only did a bust but still

underneath that outer collar is the same dress shirt you see in the sprite below. don't forget about it.

the cravat (???) is crinkled by the outer chain

I was obviously too lazy but remember to draw the pattern of the outer collar

all these accents have a rope-like texture

the chain mainly consists of triangles, but they rotate... I could not be bothered to go through that pain

accessories in the third image

section 3 - personal application

applying all these tips to my own artstyle

this was arguably the most painful part of the process. I got artstyle envy because of the study, so I had to hide the study 😭😭

I hope I portrayed him accurately

got a lazy with the clothes... but I make up for it in coloring. eugh trust the process

final comparison

I still like the study better but my artstyle is fine too 🤧

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

taglist!!

@bakersgrief @floydsteeth @tako-cafe @rubia8 @xxoomiii

@sh0jun @noxinara @g0dwat3r @sapphire-323 @lycemagee

@citrusmornings @drachonia 

please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!! or if you'd just like to be tagged for this series

[brahmagemsnaturalgemstone]

Is a Blue Sapphire Gemstone (Neelam Stone) Suitable for an Engagement Ring?

Considering a unique engagement ring? Learn about the elegance and meaning behind blue sapphire (neelam) gemstones, perfect for a lasting promise.

[brahamagems]

Buy Natural Gemstone Online at Best Shop Online Brahma Gems is dealing with natural gemstone online. Our gemstones are 100% natural and certified by govt. Igi lab. Explore our gemstone collection like that ruby stone (manik stone)

[muiitoloko]

Diamond Shadows

Summary: In a world where his life of crime clashes with his deepest affections, Hans Gruber navigates the perilous balance between heists and heartfelt romance.

Pairing: Hans Gruber × Fem! Reader

Warning: Smut, Theft, deception.

Author's Notes: I put a ton of effort into this one, so fingers crossed you guys enjoy it as much as I do! As always, your feedback is super appreciated!

Also read on Ao3

Hans Gruber chuckled darkly as he leaned back against the leather seat of the getaway car, the mask he had worn during the heist now discarded on the floor. The exhilaration of their recent robbery coursed through him, a heady mixture of adrenaline and satisfaction. Around him, his comrades examined the various bags of jewelry they had pilfered, the precious stones glinting in the dim light of the vehicle. The heist had gone off without a hitch, and the police were none the wiser, left chasing shadows as Hans and his crew made their escape.

“Look at this beauty,” one of the men, Dieter, exclaimed, holding up a necklace encrusted with diamonds. He let out a low whistle, his eyes gleaming with admiration. “My girl’s going to love this.”

Hans raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips as he considered Dieter’s request. “Ja, just one,” he replied smoothly, his accent a polished German that rolled off his tongue with a natural ease. “But make sure it’s something that won’t be missed. We don’t want to draw unnecessary attention, understood?”

Dieter nodded eagerly, tucking the necklace into his jacket with a grin. “Got it, boss,” he said, his voice laced with excitement. “She’ll never know where it came from.”

Another of the crew, Karl, laughed as he examined a pair of sapphire earrings, their deep blue stones catching the light. “Hey, Hans,” he called out, his voice teasing. “What about you? Shouldn’t you take something for your girl too? Bet she’d love a bit of sparkle.”

Hans’s expression softened slightly at the mention of you. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he considered Karl’s suggestion. You were blissfully unaware of his true profession, believing him to be a successful investor who made his money through savvy dealings and market acumen. It was a carefully crafted facade, one that Hans maintained with meticulous precision. The idea of giving you a gift—a tangible reminder of his affection—held a certain appeal, even if it came from ill-gotten gains.

“Perhaps,” Hans mused, his voice a low, contemplative murmur. He picked up a delicate bracelet from the pile, its slender chain adorned with small, glimmering diamonds. The piece was exquisite, subtle enough to avoid suspicion yet elegant enough to reflect your taste. He turned it over in his hand, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “She would appreciate something like this.”

Karl grinned, nudging another member of the crew with his elbow. “See? Even Hans has a soft spot,” he said with a chuckle. “Guess everyone likes to spoil their ladies a bit.”

Hans shot Karl a warning glance, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Enough,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. “Remember, discretion is key. We cannot afford to be reckless with our spoils.”

The crew nodded in agreement, their laughter fading into a more subdued appreciation of their haul. Hans leaned back again, his thoughts drifting to you as he considered the bracelet in his hand. You were the one person who brought a touch of normalcy to his otherwise tumultuous life, a beacon of light in the shadows he navigated so deftly. The idea of you wearing a piece of jewelry from this heist, oblivious to its true origins, was both ironic and oddly fitting.

Later that evening, after the crew had dispersed and the spoils were safely hidden away, Hans returned to his luxurious penthouse apartment. The city lights glittered outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a shimmering glow over the sleek, modern furnishings. Hans moved with a practiced grace, pouring himself a glass of fine cognac as he waited for you to arrive.

You had called earlier, excited to spend time with your busy boyfriend. The anticipation in your voice had been palpable, and Hans had smiled at the thought of surprising you with the bracelet.

When you finally arrived, your eyes lit up at the sight of him, your smile warm and genuine as you crossed the room to greet him. “Hans,” you murmured, your voice soft with affection as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

Hans’s expression softened, a genuine warmth in his eyes as he held you close, his fingers brushing lightly over your back. “And I, you,” he replied, his voice a smooth, cultured purr. He pulled back slightly, his gaze lingering on your face before he reached into his jacket pocket, producing the bracelet with a flourish. “I have something for you, meine Liebe. A little token of my affection.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as you took in the delicate piece of jewelry, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached out to take it. “Hans, it’s beautiful,” you breathed, your voice tinged with awe as you turned the bracelet over in your hands. “You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” Hans interrupted gently, his eyes locking with yours as he clasped the bracelet around your wrist. The sight of it against your skin sent a thrill of satisfaction through him, the symbol of his affection blending seamlessly with the facade he had so carefully constructed. “It suits you perfectly.”

You examined the bracelet Hans had given you, its slender chain adorned with glimmering diamonds. Your breath caught in your throat as the reality of the gift sank in. These were real diamonds, not the imitation jewelry you might find in a typical store. The thought of how much it must have cost sent a shiver of disbelief through you.

“Hans,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze, “this is… it’s real, isn’t it? Real diamonds?”

Hans’s smile faltered slightly as he watched you, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “Yes, of course,” he replied smoothly, his German accent lending a cultured elegance to his words. “Only the best for you, meine Liebe.”

You shook your head, your fingers trembling as you unclasped the bracelet and handed it back to him. “I can’t accept this,” you murmured, your voice filled with a mixture of awe and apprehension. “It must have cost a fortune. I could never afford something like this, and I don’t want you to spend so much on me. It’s too much.”

Hans’s brow furrowed as he took the bracelet, his eyes narrowing in a blend of confusion and mild frustration. “Nonsense,” he said firmly, his voice a low, soothing murmur as he stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating against yours. “It’s just a token of my affection. The cost is irrelevant. What matters is that it brings you joy.”

You bit your lip, glancing down at the delicate piece of jewelry in his hands. The idea of wearing something so extravagant, knowing how much it must have cost, felt overwhelming. “But Hans,” you protested softly, looking up to meet his gaze, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to buy me expensive things. I love you for who you are, not for what you can give me. This… it’s just too much.”

Hans’s expression softened, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “Meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a tender, reassuring whisper, “you worry too much. This is nothing compared to the joy you bring into my life. I want to see you adorned in beauty because that’s how I see you—every day, every moment.”

You felt your resolve waver, his words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Still, the thought of accepting such an expensive gift left you feeling uneasy. “But it’s so expensive,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you glanced back at the bracelet. “I could never repay you for something like this.”

Hans chuckled softly, a rich, velvety sound that sent a shiver of warmth through you. “Repay me?” he echoed, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “Oh, my darling, you’ve already given me more than you can imagine. Your presence, your love… those are priceless to me. This bracelet is a mere trinket in comparison.”

His lips brushed against your ear, sending a delicious thrill through you as he murmured, “Let me spoil you, just this once. Wear it for me. Show me how beautiful you can be, adorned in diamonds.”

Your breath hitched at the seductive tone in his voice, the warmth of his breath against your skin igniting a spark of desire deep within you. The way he looked at you, his eyes dark with a mix of affection and barely restrained passion, made it hard to refuse him. “Hans,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of reluctance and longing, “I… I don’t know.”

Hans’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his fingers trailing down your side in a slow, deliberate caress that sent a shiver of anticipation through you. “Trust me, meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. “Let me adorn you with this gift. Let me see you wearing it, and nothing else.”

You gasped softly, the raw intensity in his eyes sending a rush of heat through your body. The thought of wearing the bracelet, and only the bracelet, while Hans’s gaze devoured you, was both thrilling and intimidating. Your heart raced as you nodded slowly, your breath catching in your throat. “Alright,” you whispered, your voice a breathless murmur as you met his gaze. “But only because you want me to.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Hans’s lips as he clasped the bracelet around your wrist once more, the cool metal resting against your skin. His fingers brushed over your pulse, sending a delicious tingle up your arm as he stepped back to admire you. “Perfect,” he murmured, his voice a rough, appreciative growl as his eyes roamed over your body. “You’re breathtaking.”

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his words, a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure warming your skin. The way he looked at you, his eyes dark with a fierce, unyielding desire, made you feel both vulnerable and incredibly powerful. You shifted slightly, the cool metal of the bracelet a tangible reminder of his affection as you met his gaze with a tentative smile. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “For everything.”

Hans’s smile softened, a flicker of genuine warmth in his eyes as he stepped closer, his fingers trailing lightly over your arm. “You’re welcome, meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, tender whisper as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck in a gentle kiss. “Now, let me show you just how much you mean to me.”

His hands slid down your sides, his touch firm and possessive as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your skin. The intensity in his eyes, the raw hunger that burned in his gaze, sent a shiver of anticipation through you as he whispered, “Tonight, you’re mine. Every inch of you, adorned in diamonds, belongs to me.”

You gasped softly, the heat of his words sending a delicious thrill through your body as you melted into his embrace, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and longing. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice a soft, breathless murmur as you looked up at him. “I’m yours, Hans. All yours.”

But Hans suddenly released you, a playful glint in his eyes as he stepped back, the warmth of his embrace lingering on your skin. His smile turned mischievous, a sharp contrast to the intensity of his previous words. “Patience, meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a soft, teasing purr. “All in good time. For now, I must prepare dinner.”

You blinked in surprise, a pout forming on your lips as you looked up at him. “Hans, you can’t just leave me hanging like this,” you protested, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and longing.

Hans chuckled, the sound a rich, velvety caress as he ran a hand through his dark hair, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “I enjoy playing with you,” he replied smoothly, his German accent lending a cultured elegance to his words. “And anticipation, my dear, can be its own kind of pleasure. Now, be a good girl and wait for me in the living room.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you met his gaze with a look of playful exasperation. “Do I at least get to help? Or am I just supposed to sit there and look pretty?”

Hans’s smile widened, a flicker of warmth in his eyes as he stepped closer, his fingers trailing lightly over your arm. “Tonight, your only task is to look pretty and relax,” he said softly, his voice a gentle murmur as he brushed a kiss against your forehead. “Let me take care of everything else. It’s my way of spoiling you, remember?”

You sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips as you nodded. “Alright, fine,” you conceded, your tone tinged with a hint of playfulness. “But don’t keep me waiting too long, Hans.”

Hans’s eyes darkened with a promise of later delights as he took a step back, rolling up his sleeves to reveal the intricate tattoo on his forearm—a design that held personal significance for him, though he had never shared its meaning with you. “I won’t,” he assured you, his voice a low, seductive growl as he turned towards the open kitchen. “Now, go on. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

You watched as he tied an apron around his waist, the sight of him preparing to cook adding a touch of domesticity to the otherwise sophisticated atmosphere of the penthouse. With a soft sigh, you turned and made your way to the living room, settling onto the plush sofa as you reached for the remote, flicking on the TV.

The evening news filled the screen, the anchor’s voice a steady drone as they recounted the day’s events. You barely paid attention, your thoughts drifting back to Hans and the promise of what was to come. But a particular story caught your ear, drawing your gaze to the screen.

“Tonight’s top story: A daring robbery at a high-end jewelry store leaves authorities baffled,” the anchor reported, her tone grave as she described the heist. “Masked men made off with a significant haul of valuable items, including rare diamonds and precious gemstones. The police are investigating, but so far, no leads on the identity of the perpetrators.”

Your eyes widened slightly at the mention of the robbery, a flicker of unease stirring in your chest as you glanced down at the bracelet Hans had given you. The delicate chain, the glimmering diamonds… They were exquisite, certainly, but you had never considered their origin. The connection between the news report and the bracelet on your wrist didn’t quite register, your thoughts too focused on the evening with Hans to draw any conclusions.

Shaking off the unease, you turned your attention back to the TV, trying to immerse yourself in the light chatter of the evening program. The sound of Hans moving in the kitchen, the clink of dishes and the soft hum of his voice as he prepared dinner, was a comforting backdrop, grounding you in the moment.

After what felt like an eternity, though it was likely only a short while, Hans called from the kitchen, his voice rich with a teasing lilt. “Dinner is served, meine Liebe. Join me, won’t you?”

You smiled, the anticipation that had been simmering within you reigniting as you rose from the sofa and made your way to the dining area. The table was set with elegant simplicity, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm, intimate light over the polished wood. Hans stood by the stove, his sleeves still rolled up, a satisfied smile on his lips as he turned to greet you.

“Everything smells wonderful,” you said, your voice filled with genuine appreciation as you took in the sight of the carefully prepared dishes. “You’ve outdone yourself, Hans.”

Hans’s smile widened, a flicker of pride in his eyes as he set the final dish on the table, gesturing for you to take a seat. “Only the best for you,” he replied smoothly, his accent a soft, cultured murmur as he poured you a glass of wine, the rich, ruby liquid catching the candlelight. “I hope you enjoy it.”

You settled into your chair, your gaze lingering on Hans as he took his place across from you, his eyes dark and warm as he watched you. The meal was exquisite, each bite a testament to Hans’s culinary skill and his dedication to making the evening special for you.

As you savored the flavors, the earlier news report faded from your mind, replaced by the warmth of Hans’s presence and the promise of the night ahead. The bracelet on your wrist glinted in the candlelight, a silent testament to Hans’s affection, its true origins still a mystery you were blissfully unaware of.

Hans raised his glass, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of affection and intensity. “To us,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl that sent a shiver of anticipation through you. “And to many more evenings like this.”

You smiled, lifting your glass to clink it against his, the warmth of his gaze and the richness of his voice filling you with a deep, abiding contentment. “To us,” you echoed softly, your voice filled with a genuine affection as you met his gaze. “And to the wonderful surprises you always bring into my life.”

Later that night, after the plates were cleared and the last of the wine was sipped, Hans led you to the bedroom with a palpable air of anticipation. The candlelight flickered, casting playful shadows on the walls, creating an intimate ambiance that contrasted starkly with the intensity of Hans's touch. The elegance of the evening was about to give way to the raw, unrestrained passion that simmered beneath his refined exterior.

Hans’s hands were firm as he gripped your hips, his eyes dark with desire as he guided you to the bed. The delicate bracelet still glinted on your wrist, a symbol of the duality of the man who now loomed over you. “Meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl thick with his German accent, “it’s time for the main course.”

He pulled you into a fierce, hungry kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth with a possessive urgency that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your body, rough and insistent, as he pushed you down onto the bed. You felt the cool air against your skin as he stripped away your clothing, each piece discarded with a careless ease that spoke of his impatience.

With one hand, Hans gripped your hip, holding you in place as he positioned himself between your legs. The other hand tangled in your hair, pulling you back to arch against him, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered in your ear, “You’re mine tonight, every inch of you. Do you understand?”

You nodded, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you felt the hard length of him pressing against your entrance. “Yes, Hans,” you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I’m yours. All yours.”

A dark, satisfied smile spread across his lips as he thrust into you, his cock filling you with a powerful, claiming motion that left you gasping. “Good girl,” he growled, his voice thick with a primal, unyielding desire. “Take me. Take every inch of me.”

Hans was relentless, his thrusts hard and deep, each movement a fierce, demanding claim on your body. His hand on your hip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he drove into you with a rough, unrestrained passion. The pain mingled with pleasure, sending shivers of sensation through your body as you arched against him, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

“Scheiße,” he muttered under his breath, his voice a rough, guttural whisper as he watched you. “You feel so good, meine Liebe. So tight around me.”

His hand in your hair tugged harder, pulling your head back to expose your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin with a delicious mix of pain and pleasure. “You like this, don’t you?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “You like it when I’m rough with you. When I fuck you hard and make you scream my name.”

You could only moan in response, the intensity of his thrusts driving coherent thought from your mind. The feel of his cock stretching you, filling you completely, was overwhelming, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. “Yes, Hans,” you gasped, your voice a desperate, breathless plea. “Please, don’t stop. Fuck me harder.”

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest as he obliged, his pace quickening, his thrusts growing more urgent. “That’s it, meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. “Take it. Take all of me. You’re mine. Only mine.”

The room was filled with the sounds of your combined pleasure, the raw, primal rhythm of his body against yours driving you both towards release. Hans’s growls of satisfaction, your gasps and moans, the slap of skin against skin—all merged into a symphony of unrestrained desire.

You felt the pressure building within you, each thrust pushing you closer to the brink. Your body trembled, your fingers clenching the sheets as you teetered on the edge of climax. “Hans,” you sobbed, your voice a desperate, pleading cry. “I’m going to—”

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice a rough, primal growl as he drove into you with a final, powerful thrust. “Come for me now, meine Liebe.”

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with the intensity of your release. You screamed his name, the sound echoing in the room as pleasure rippled through you in overwhelming waves.

Hans's grip on your hips tightened as you rode the waves of your climax, the intensity of your release leaving you gasping and trembling beneath him. His dark eyes gleamed with a fierce, possessive hunger as he watched you, his expression a blend of satisfaction and unrestrained desire. The rough cadence of his breath and the flush of heat on his skin mirrored the primal urgency of the moment, a raw testament to the depth of his need for you.

As your body convulsed with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Hans’s hands slid down to grasp your thighs, his touch firm and demanding. He pulled your legs up, positioning them over his shoulders with a deft, practiced motion. The shift in angle sent a jolt of fresh sensation through you, your overstimulated body responding with a renewed burst of pleasure.

"Look at you," Hans growled, his voice a rough, seductive whisper thick with his German accent, the rich tones rolling off his tongue like dark honey. "So pliant, so ready for me. Do you know how much I love seeing you like this? Completely at my mercy."

You could only moan in response, your limbs limp and flexible from the intensity of your climax, the sensation of his cock buried deep within you pushing you to the brink of another orgasm. Your body arched instinctively towards him, your fingers curling into the sheets as he began to move, each thrust a powerful, demanding claim on your pleasure.

Hans's lips curled into a wicked smile as he watched you, the fierce, unyielding hunger in his gaze sending shivers of anticipation through you. "That's it," he murmured, his voice a low, rough purr as he adjusted his grip on your legs, holding you open for him. "Take me. Take every inch of me. You belong to me, and tonight, I’m going to show you just how much."

With a growl of satisfaction, he drove into you with a force that left you gasping, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your already sensitive body. The angle, the intensity, the roughness of his movements—all combined to create a symphony of sensation that had you crying out in ecstasy, your voice a breathless plea as you clung to the sheets.

“Scheiße,” Hans muttered under his breath, his eyes darkening with a fierce, unrestrained desire as he watched you. “You feel so good, meine Liebe. So tight and wet. Every time I’m inside you, it feels like I’m losing control. Like I’m drowning in you.”

Your breath came in short, uneven gasps, each thrust driving you closer to the edge once more. The rough friction of his cock against your inner walls, the feel of his hands gripping your thighs, the raw intensity in his gaze—all combined to push you to the brink of another climax. “Hans,” you sobbed, your voice a desperate, breathless cry. “Please… I can’t… I’m going to—”

“Come for me,” Hans commanded, his voice a rough, primal growl as he drove into you with a renewed urgency, his movements growing more frantic, more demanding. “Come for me again, meine Liebe. Let me feel you fall apart around me.”

With a final, powerful thrust, Hans pushed you over the edge once more, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of overwhelming pleasure. Your body convulsed, your cries of ecstasy filling the room as you clung to the sheets, the intensity of your release leaving you trembling and breathless beneath him.

Hans’s growl of satisfaction was a low, primal sound as he felt you clenching around him, the sensation driving him to the brink of his own climax. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice a rough, guttural whisper as he buried himself deep inside you, his movements growing more urgent, more insistent with each passing moment. “You’re mine, meine Liebe. All mine.”

The feel of his cock pulsing inside you, the raw intensity of his thrusts, the way his hands gripped your thighs with a possessive force—it was all too much. Your body arched instinctively towards him, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you teetered on the edge of yet another climax.

Hans’s gaze darkened, a fierce, unyielding hunger burning in his eyes as he watched you, his breath hot against your skin. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough purr as he drove into you with a final, powerful thrust. “So beautiful, so perfect. You belong to me, meine Liebe. Only to me.”

With a growl of satisfaction, Hans reached his own climax, his body tensing as he buried himself deep inside you, his release a powerful, overwhelming surge that left him gasping and trembling with the intensity of his pleasure. The feel of his cock pulsing inside you, the way his hands gripped your thighs with a bruising force, the raw, unrestrained passion in his gaze—it was all too much, driving you to the brink of yet another orgasm.

Your cries of ecstasy mingled with his growls of satisfaction, the room filled with the sounds of your combined pleasure as you clung to each other, the intensity of the moment binding you together in a raw, primal dance of unrestrained desire.

In the aftermath, as the echoes of your release faded and the room fell into a hushed, intimate silence, Hans’s hands slid down to cradle your legs, his touch gentle and soothing as he lowered them from his shoulders. His breath came in short, uneven gasps, his eyes dark with a lingering hunger as he watched you, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his lips.

“Meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, tender whisper as he leaned in to brush a kiss against your forehead. “You were incredible. Absolutely breathtaking.”

You could only nod, your breath still coming in short, ragged gasps as you clung to him, the warmth of his body a comforting presence against yours. “Hans,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of exhaustion and lingering desire. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Hans’s smile softened, a flicker of genuine warmth in his eyes as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice a gentle, reassuring murmur. “Just rest, meine Liebe. Tonight, you’re mine. All mine.”

As you lay there in his arms, the warmth of his embrace a comforting balm to your exhausted body, you couldn’t help but feel a deep, abiding contentment. The intensity of the evening, the raw, unrestrained passion you had shared—it was a testament to the depth of your connection, a reminder of the fierce, unyielding bond that bound you together.

And as you drifted into a deep, restful sleep, the last thing you felt was the gentle brush of Hans’s lips against your forehead, a silent promise of his unwavering affection and the raw, unrestrained desire that burned between you.

Hans lay beside you, his chest rising and falling with each measured breath as he tried to calm down from his own powerful climax. The room was filled with the lingering scent of sweat and sex, the heat of your bodies mingling in the intimate aftermath of your lovemaking. One arm rested behind his head, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he savored the contentment that settled over him, the raw, unrestrained passion of the evening still thrumming in his veins.

For a moment, Hans allowed himself the luxury of stillness, the steady rhythm of your breathing a soothing counterpoint to his own rapid heartbeat. His eyes softened as he looked at you, your features relaxed in sleep, the delicate bracelet still gleaming on your wrist—a silent reminder of the world outside this intimate sanctuary.

The serenity was short-lived, however, as the sharp trill of his cell phone pierced the quiet. Hans’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as he reached over to the nightstand, fishing out the cigarette and lighter he had stashed away earlier. With practiced ease, he lit the cigarette, the flare of the flame casting brief, dancing shadows on the walls. The phone’s persistent ring continued, a reminder of the world that demanded his attention.

Exhaling a stream of smoke, Hans picked up the phone, his expression shifting to one of focused intensity as he glanced at the caller ID. This was the call he had been waiting for. Rising from the bed with a fluid grace that belied the weight of his actions, Hans moved towards the porch, the cool night air brushing against his bare skin as he stepped outside. The cigarette glowed faintly in the darkness, a solitary beacon in the muted light of the cityscape that stretched out below.

Ignoring his naked state, Hans answered the call, his voice slipping effortlessly into a polished French accent as he spoke. “Bonsoir,” he greeted smoothly, the German undertones of his natural voice masked by the refined lilt of his chosen guise. “I trust everything is in order?”

The voice on the other end was clipped, efficient, tinged with a barely concealed eagerness. “Monsieur Lacroix,” the buyer replied, using the alias Hans had provided. “Everything is set. We have the funds ready, but we need to confirm the authenticity of the items before we proceed.”

Hans’s lips curled into a knowing smile, the cigarette held between his fingers as he leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the glittering expanse of the city below. “But of course,” he purred, his tone one of practiced reassurance. “You will find everything to be in perfect order. The pieces are exquisite, and I assure you, they are worth every penny of your investment.”

The buyer hesitated, a flicker of doubt in his voice. “You understand, Monsieur Lacroix, that our associates are quite… particular about such transactions. Any discrepancy could be costly.”

Hans’s eyes narrowed, his smile turning sharp as he took another drag from the cigarette, the smoke curling lazily into the night air. “Rest assured, there will be no discrepancies,” he replied, his voice carrying a quiet, dangerous authority that brooked no argument. “The items are authentic, and the transaction will proceed as planned. You will have your jewels, and I will have my payment. Agreed?”

There was a brief pause, the weight of Hans’s words hanging heavy in the air before the buyer responded, his tone one of reluctant acquiescence. “Agreed. We will finalize the details tomorrow. Ensure the items are ready for inspection.”

Hans’s smile widened, a flicker of satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he exhaled a final stream of smoke, crushing the cigarette underfoot. “Très bien,” he said softly, his voice a silken caress as he ended the call. “I look forward to our continued partnership.”

With a casual flick of his wrist, Hans tossed the phone onto the nearby table, his thoughts already shifting to the logistics of the exchange. The jewelry, currently hidden away in a secure location, would be laundered through a series of carefully orchestrated transactions, each layer adding to the complexity of the web he had woven. The buyer, an intermediary for a network of high-end collectors, would provide the necessary funds, which Hans would then channel through his intricate network, transforming the illicit profits into clean, untraceable assets.

Returning to the bedroom, Hans’s gaze softened as he took in the sight of you, still sleeping peacefully amidst the rumpled sheets. The contrast between the ruthless efficiency of his dealings and the tender warmth he felt for you was stark, a reminder of the duality that defined his existence. He moved silently, his bare feet making no sound on the polished wood floor as he approached the bed, his eyes lingering on the delicate bracelet that adorned your wrist.

Carefully, Hans slid back into the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight as he pulled you into his arms, his touch gentle and possessive. The cool metal of the bracelet brushed against his skin, a tangible connection between the world of shadows he navigated and the light you brought into his life.

“Meine Liebe,” he murmured softly, his voice a low, tender whisper as he pressed a kiss to your temple, the warmth of your body a comforting presence against his. “Sleep well. Tomorrow, we face the world together.”

As you nestled closer, your breathing steady and even in the embrace of sleep, Hans allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection. The path he walked was fraught with danger, each step a careful balance between the persona he presented to the world and the ruthless ambition that drove him. But here, in the quiet sanctuary of your shared bed, he found a measure of peace, a fleeting glimpse of the man he might have been, had circumstances been different.

And as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, casting a pale glow over the city that lay beneath him, Hans tightened his hold on you, his thoughts already turning to the challenges of the day ahead. The heist, the buyer, the intricate dance of deception and strategy—it was all part of the game he played, a game where the stakes were high and the rewards even higher.

But for now, in this moment, he allowed himself the luxury of simply holding you, the warmth of your body a balm to the shadows that lingered at the edges of his mind.

Translations:

1. Ja – Yes (German)

2. Meine Liebe – My love (German)

3. Bonsoir – Good evening (French)

4. Monsieur Lacroix – Mr. Lacroix (French)

5. Mais bien sûr – But of course (French)

6. Très bien – Very well (French)

7. Scheiße – Shit (German)

[the-mortuary-witch]

PLANETARY MAGICK

SUN

Zodiac: Leo

Metal: gold

Day: Sunday

Colours: orange, yellow, and amber

Stones: amber, topaz, ruby, and diamond

Tarot: The Sun 

Herbs: angelica, poppy, sunflower, marigold, hibiscus, and mistletoe

Symbols: lion, hexagram, sparrow hawk, dragon, head, heart, and swan

Influences: renown, potency, fortune, tyranny, pride, ambition, masculinity, arrogance, bigotry, vitality, and health

MOON

Zodiac: Cancer

Metal: sliver

Day: Monday

Colours: blue and sliver

Stones: moonstone and pearl

Tarot: The High Priestess and The Chariot

Herbs: eucalyptus, coconut, jasmine, lotus, myrrh, and sandalwood

Symbols: bow and arrow, crab, cat, turtle, Sphinx, and owl

Influences: gratitude, friendliness, safe, travel, physical health, wealth, protection for enemies, deception, illusion, women, emotions, healing, and dreams. 

MERCURY

Zodiacs: Virgo and Gemini

Metal: aluminum and mercury

Day: Wednesday

Colours: violet, grey, purple, indigo, and yellow

Stones: opal and agate

Tarot: The Lovers 

Herbs: hyssop, juniper, betony, carrot, and chickweed

Symbols: wand, octagram, and the mind

Influences: good fortune, gratitude, gain, memory, understanding, divination, dreams, forgetfulness, communication, business, cleverness, creativity, information, intellect, memory, perception, science, wisdom, gambling, writing, root of dishonesty, and deception

VENUS

Zodiacs: Taurus and Libra

Metal: copper

Day: Friday

Colours: green and pink

Stones: turquoise, emerald, sapphire, and jade

Tarot: The Empress 

Herbs: jimsonweed, violet, rose, alder, apple, angelica, olive, and sesame

Symbols: sparrow, dove, swan, and pentagram

Influences: peace, agreements, cooperation, fertility, joy, love, good fortune, jealousy, strife, and promiscuity

MARS

Zodiacs: Aries and Scorpio

Metal: iron, red brass, and steel

Day: Tuesday

Colour: red

Stones: ruby, garnet, bloodstone, and diamond

Tarot: The Tower 

Herbs: ginger and mustard

Symbols: sword, pentagram, horse, bear, wolf, and vulture

Influences: war, victory, judgements, submission of enemies, bleeding, stripping one of rank, harness, discord, conflict, aggression, lust, power, courage, goals, protection, motivation, ambition, and strength

JUPITER

Zodiacs: Pisces and Sagittarius

Metal: tin

Day: Thursday 

Colour: blue

Stone: sapphire

Tarot: The Wheel of Fortune 

Herbs: balm, hyssop, maple leaf and bark, oak, sage, and dandelion root

Symbols: eagle and dolphin

Influences: gains, riches, favour, peace, cooperation, appeasing enemies, and dissolving

SATURN

Zodiac: Capricorn

Metal: lead

Day: Saturday

Colour: black

Stone: onyx

Tarot: The World

Herbs: alder, apple, ash, asparagus, baneberry, belladonna, distort, hellebore, blackthorn, corm, and cypress

Symbols: cuttlefish and mole

Influences: safety, power, success, positive response to requests, intellect, causes discord, strips honour, and melancholy

URANUS

Zodiac: Aquarius

Day: Thursday

Colours: blue-green and electric blue

Stones: quartz, labradorite, blue topaz, amber, amethyst, garnet, and diamond

Tarot: The Fool

Herbs: clover, pokeweed, snowdrop, foxglove, love, rosemary, trees of heaven, hellebore, morning glory, sage, wintergreen, orchids, and sweet woodruff

Symbols: dragonfly and butterfly

Influences: breaking connection, sudden and unexpected change, freedom, originality, radical and revolutionary ideas, enlightenment, equality, individuality, rebellion, instability, loneliness, boredom, and mistrust of self

NEPTUNE

Zodiac: Pisces

Day: Friday

Minerals: coral, aquamarine, platinum, and neptunium

Colours: green, blue, and lavender

Tarot: The Hanged Man 

Herbs: morning glory, night-blooming jasmine, pine, and water lily

Symbols: the sea, trident, and the spine

Influences: dissolving boundaries, expanding upon ideas, changing established rules, intuition, idealism, sacrifice, glamour, illusion, evolution, decay, visions, art, healing, inspiration, dreams, creativity, compassion, drifting from reality, carelessness, stubbornness, and absent mind

PLUTO

Zodiac: Scorpio

Metal: plutonium, tin chrome, and steel

Day: Tuesday

Colours: maroon, dark red, purple, white, and black

Stones: snowflake obsidian and clack tourmaline

Tarot: Judgement

Herbs: pomegranate, rosemary, vanilla, basil, poppies, belladonna, and foxglove

Symbols: phoenix, snake, scorpion, fox, and eagle

Influences: destruction making way for renewal, rebirth, knowledge, spirituality, transformation, destiny, the subconscious, desire, arrogance, death, obsession, and destruction

[fazalkhan2914]

Cost of Ruby stone-Takatgemssr Takat Gems is a dependent company that adds style to your personality by providing exclusive quality gemstones that meet your highest expectations. We provide 100% original gemstones at the best competitive prices that people always look forward to. https://www.takatgemssr.com/ruby.html

[greenwitchcrafts]

April 2024 witch guide

Full moon: April 23rd

New moon: April 8th

Solar eclipse: April 8th

Sabbats: None

April Pink Moon

Known as: Breaking Ice Moon, Budding Moon of Plants & shrubs, Budding Tree Moon, Eastermonath, Frog Moon, Green Grass Moon, Growing Moon, Hare Moon, Moon of the Red Grass appearing, Moon When Geese Lay Egss, Moon When thd Ducks Come Back, Ostarmanoth, Planters Moon, Seed Moon, Sucker Moon & Wind Moon

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Aries & Taurus

Nature spirits: Plant Faeries

Deities: Anahita, Bast, Ceres, Cernunnos, Hathor, Herne, Ishtar, Kali, Tawaret & Venus

Animals: Bear & wolf

Birds:  Hawk & magpie

Trees: Bay, forsythia, hazel, lilac, pine & willow

Herbs:  Basil, chives, dandelion, dill, dogwood, dragon's blood, fennel, geranium, milkweed & thistle

Flowers: Daisy & sweetpea

Scents: Bay, bergamot, patchouli & pine

Stones: Angelite, beryl, diamond, garnet, malachite, quartz, ruby, sapphire, sard, selenite & zircon

Colors: Blue, brown, crimson, gold & green

Energy: Authority, balance, beginnings, change, fertility, growth, leadership, opportunities, overcoming obstacles, personal skill development, re-birth, self-evaluation, self-reliance, spirituality, temper control & willpower

April’s full Moon often corresponded with the early springtime blooms of a certain wildflower native to eastern North America: Phlox subulata—commonly called creeping phlox or moss phlox—which also went by the name “moss pink.” Thanks to this seasonal association, this full Moon came to be called the “Pink” Moon.

Other celebrations:

• Walpurgis Night - April 30th

Also known as: May Eve

The origins of the holiday date back to pagan celebrations of fertility rites & the coming of spring. After the Norse were Christianized, the pagan celebration became combined with the legend of St. Walburga, an English-born nun who lived at Heidenheim monastery in Germany & later became the abbess there. Saint Walpurga was hailed by the Christians of Germany for battling "pest, rabies, & whooping cough as well as against witchcraft". Christians prayed to God through the intercession of Saint Walpurga in order to protect themselves from witchcraft, as Saint Walpurga was successful in converting the local populace to Christianity. Although it is likely that the date of her canonization is purely coincidental to the date of the pagan celebrations of spring, people were able to celebrate both events under church law without fear of reprisal.

Walpurgis Night is still a traditional holiday celebrated on April 30th in northern Europe & Scandinavia. In Sweden typical holiday activities include the singing of traditional spring folk songs & the lighting of bonfires. In Germany the holiday is celebrated by dressing in costumes, playing pranks on people & creating loud noises meant to keep evil at bay. Many people also hang blessed sprigs of foliage from houses & barns to ward off evil spirits, or they leave pieces of bread spread with butter & honey, called ankenschnitt, as offerings for phantom hounds.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living