#the serpent of brass

[disease]

THE SERPENT OF BRASS

[sketchkrsh]

Happy Smaugust, here’s all the dragons I’ve drawn so far 🐉 ✨

[ashanimus]

white people shut the everloving fuck up about what appropriating peoples culture means challenge and just enjoy your goddamn sparkle dragons

[faaun]

she says my heart is yours, from the caspian shores.

[aureentuluva70]

I've been thinking a lot about how Finrod uses a snake as the symbol of his house, and I've seen other people post their thoughts about it as well, so I might as well throw mine down on the table.

I don't think the symbol of a snake is meant to imply anything particularly sinister about Finrod. While serpents are often seen as symbols of evil, the snake being the form Satan uses to deceive Eve as a prime example, they can also be associated with the good as well.

Many ancient cultures used the snake to symbolize divine power, rebirth, creation, medicine, eternity, and life after death. In the Bible itself, by the power of God, Moses's staff is changed into a snake which devours all the other serpents of the magicians. When the Israelites were bitten by venomous snakes, Moses raised a serpent of brass upon a pole and all those who simply looked upon it would be healed. Christ Himself even references the story in John 3: 14: "And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up."

In Egypt the snake was seen as the embodiment of life-giving powers, and many of their gods associated with concepts like eternity and creation, were often represented by the serpent. And this is true for many, many other cultures.

With all this mind, looking at Finrod's character and the things he's closely associated with, especially in terms of his relationship with the Race of Men and other mortal beings and how they view him, the symbol of a snake is actually very fitting. It's especially poignant in his conversation and debate with Andreth in the Athrabeth, where concepts and philosophies of Mortality and Immortality discussed between them make up the majority of their conversation.

So yeah.

Thank you for coming to my Ted-Talk.

[adtothebone]

It’s not an imperial Ming vase but I found it to be rather neat when I saw it at the last North Star Auction and it did in fact go home with me. Shot in Shakyphone (patent pending).

[nummynims]

"serpentine waves" large brass earrings

Dynamic swirling gestures captured in a single moment.  Lines gliding back and forth within its circular frame.  This larger version of brass earrings in the serpentine series hang boldly from your ear demanding attention.  (Also available in smaller size.  See size comparison photo for reference and separate listing)

Earring Pendant is approximately: 2"W x 2"H x 0.078"D

 Will ship immediately if in stock, but otherwise items are typically made to order.   Allow as much as 10-15 business days for production and shipping when made to order. Please feel free to contact me with any questions, concerns, or custom orders.

Note: as this is a 3D printed object, there may be slight differences from product to product due to the process, but I aim to give you the best product possible and check all items for major defect prior to shipping.   

[questions/comments]

[vivien-chin]

"serpentine waves" large brass earrings

Dynamic swirling gestures captured in a single moment.  Lines gliding back and forth within its circular frame.  This larger version of brass earrings in the serpentine series hang boldly from your ear demanding attention.  (Also available in smaller size.  See size comparison photo for reference and separate listing)

Earring Pendant is approximately: 2"W x 2"H x 0.078"D

 Will ship immediately if in stock, but otherwise items are typically made to order.   Allow as much as 10-15 business days for production and shipping when made to order. Please feel free to contact me with any questions, concerns, or custom orders.

Note: as this is a 3D printed object, there may be slight differences from product to product due to the process, but I aim to give you the best product possible and check all items for major defect prior to shipping.   

[questions/comments]

[artultima]

#snakesymbol #snakependant #snakenecklace #snakejewelry #snaketotem #wrapsnake #scarysnake #solidsnake #snakegift #snakecharm #wrapserpent #snake #serpent https://www.etsy.com/listing/1464012453/snake-brass-pendant

[thecupidwitch]

Elements And Their Correspondences

Earth

Direction: North

Time: Midnight

Season: Winter

Color: Green, brown

Zodiac: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Ruling planets: Venus and Saturn

Tarot Cards: Pentacles, Coins

Tools: Pentacle, salt, stones, dirt, crystals, wood, flowers

Cystals: Emerald, Jet, tourmaline, quartz, onyx, azurite, amethyst, jasper, peridot, granite.

Animals: gopher, bear, wolf, ant, horse, stag, deer, dog, cow, bull, bison, snake, worms, moles, voles, grubs

Herbs: Oak, cedar, cypress, honeysuckle, ivy, primrose, sage, grains, patchouli, nuts, magnolia, comfrey, vetivert, moss, lilac, lichen, roots, barley, alfalfa, corn, rice.

Rules: Grounding, strength, healing, success, stability, sturdiness, steadfastness, foundations, empathy, fertility, death, rebirth, wisdom, nature, animals, plants, money, prosperity.

Water

Direction: West

Time: Dusk

Season: Fall

Color: Blue, Indigo, Sliver

Zodiac: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Ruling planets: Moon, Neptune, Pluto

Tarot Cards: Cups

Tools: Ocean, sea glass, cup, bowl, seaweed, hag stones, cauldron

Cystals: Moonstone, pearl, silver, aquamarine, amethyst, blue tourmaline, lapis lazuli, fluorite, coral, blue topaz, beryl, opal, coral

Animals: fish, snake, frog, crab, lobster, eel, shark, dragonfly, seahorse, dolphin, sea otter, seal, whale, alligator, crocodile, beaver, octopus, penguin, salamander, turtle, starfish, koi, coral, barnacle, manta ray, manatee, jellyfish, nautilus, heron, duck, geese, crane, swan, water birds, ammonite, dragons, serpents

Herbs: seaweed, aloe, fern, water lily, lotus, moss, willow, gardenia, apple, catnip, chamomile, cattail, lettuce, kelp, birch, cabbage, coconut, cucumber, comfrey, eucalyptus, gourd, geranium, grape, licorice, lilac, pear, strawberry, tomato

Rules: emotion, intuition, psychic abilities, love, unconscious mind, fertility, self-healing, reflection, lunar energy, deep feelings, curses, death

Fire

Direction: South

Time: Noon

Season: Summer

Color: Red, Orange

Zodiac: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

Ruling planets: Sun, Mars

Tarot Cards: Wands or Swords (depends on belief system)

Tools: Athame, candles, swords, wands, dagger, lamp, flame

Cystals: Carnelian, red jasper, bloodstone, garnet, ruby, agate, rhodochrosite, gold, pyrite, brass, fire opal, lavastone, tiger's eye

Animals: Lion, snake, coyote, fox, ladybug, bee, shark, scorpion, horse, mantis, tiger

Herbs: Cinnamon, cloves, ginger, allspice, basil, cacti, marigold, chilis, garlic, mustard, nettle, onion, heliotrope, hibiscus, juniper, lime, orange, red pepper, poppies, thistle, coffee, jalapenos, lemon, cumin, saffron, coriander

Rules: Energy, will, destruction, strength, courage, power, passion, lust, sexuality, anger, war, new beginnings, protection, loyalty, transformation, action, movement, achievement, creativity, desire, willpower

Air

Direction: East

Time: Down

Season: Spring

Color: Yellow, gold, white, light blue, pastels

Zodiac: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

Ruling planets: Mercury, Jupiter, Uranus

Tarot Cards: Wands

Tools: Feather, wand, staff, incense, broom, bell, sword, pen

Cystals: Amber, topaz, citrine, jasper, agate, pumice, alexandrite, amethyst, fluorite, mica, clear quartz

Animals: Birds, flying insects, spiders, bats

Herbs: Bergamot, lavender, marjoram, peppermint, sage, dandelion, bluebell, clover, frankincense, primrose, lemongrass, pine, aspen, yarrow, violets, vervain, myrrh, dill, anise, aspen

Rules: Intelligence, wisdom, knowledge, logic, thought, communication, truth, inspiration, intuition, memory, creativity

Tip jar

[pricetagged]

that death is a very stable job

''Cause I love my baby, tall, dark Hades. Lord of death is down on his knees for me.'' Poor little Dormouse, with her cruel father and labourer's hands. You find an unexpected guard dog in one of the passing Knights.

Enjoy 4.8k words of half inaccurate-medieval, half poorly-built-fantasy AU. Inspired by a few existing historical AUs (like @bi-writes 1600s au, 391780's 'the rus') and a scene from 'The Serpent Queen'. Also, I stan 'old grizzled dog with a heart Ghost' so here you go.

Warnings/content: implied domestic abuse/sex work (not Ghost), very mild suicidal ideation, violence, power imbalance (social hierarchy ew), kissing & intimacy (no smut. yet.). Reader is described as a young woman, generally body-neutral (one reference to being 'plump').

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

What makes betrayal so potent is that, by its very nature, it can only come from someone you trust. Of course, as a child you knew little of the abstracts and intricacies of trust. You knew the warmth of your mother's bosom. You knew the sharp, lingering smell of lye that slung to her chapped hands. You knew that you were not hungry or hurt for those blissful early years, at least.

You did not know that you had a father.

He spent those blissful, early years of yours fighting for a King and cause that meant far less to him than the pocketful of coins he earned and promptly spent on pleasures. But a soldier cannot earn coin in times of peace, not if he weren't a member of the standing army, so with treaties signed he shipped back to neglected wife and babe.

You did not know that fathers could be cruel.

Your mother protected you as best as she could, but slippery riverbanks and lixivium fumes were hardly safe for a little girl. So you learned to scurry about, eyes wide and feet soft as a dormouse. When your mother's whimpers and father's shouts split the silence of dusk you crouched and covered your mouth lest his attention switched to you. On the rare times your father called for you, you remembered your mother's hushed advice - be quiet, be meek, be sweet - and bobbed along to the waves of his fickle moods. When your stomach growled and gnawed you stifled it with a look at your mother's wan face, her fingers worked to the bone for mere pennies that were no longer spent on peat and produce. You lived in a cold house, an empty house. A strained house.

'Look at the size o'her, running wild, eating me out of house and home!' Lies. Your father hunched over your mother's shaking form, three meager brass farthings spilled across the crooked kitchen bench. 'You put her to work, or I will.'

The lye stung your skin. Sometimes you imagined yourself floating off, down in the frigid waters, your funeral clothes being salvinia and your shroud made of pennywort. Those thoughts rose like lily pads, big and blooming and plentiful, the autumn your mother passed.

'You've really got to work now, girl,' your Father sneered. 'Got to earn your keep now that your mother can't cry on your behalf.'

The glint in his eye pricked at your neck, made your spine stiffen and eyes shift away. Be quiet, be meek, be sweet. You wondered if your mother's advice would save you from his basest assertions, or encourage them. You would soon find out.

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

Ordinarily the Mid-Autumn festival was a slight reprieve, allowing a few days for your aching, numb fingers to warm and stretch as you enjoyed the city turned to colour. Ordinarily.

This year, you found yourself hauled down to the drinking district, your Father's blunt, filthy fingers digging into the soft meat of your upper arm. It was still daylight, thankfully, but you already felt exposed as he had you linger in the square near the public houses. You could already hear the hoots and laughter of raucous men enlivened by drink and company. The smell of stale ale and piss was not enough to cover the scent of fresh baking and roasted game drifting on the breeze. You shivered, your burned, you hungered.

Meek little dormouse, scurrying around the greasy ferret who held her tail under his claws.

Your Father's chance came as the sun was setting, candlelight just now visible through the slats and windows of taverns. Far from cozy, it reminded you of the lidded eyes of some lazy predator about to watch your ruination.

'I don't care if you are crusader to the gods themselves! Knight of the Realm or not, you can't come into my pub and throw furniture around like you're at the Solstice games!'

The snarling Madame looked comically small next to the absolute beast of a man currently ducking under the doorframe. Watching her chuck the splintered leg of a chair after him you thought her lucky that he didn't want more of a fuss. You had never seen a man so big, so broad, seeming bigger whilst dressed still in his mail and wearing the colours of the King. He merely grunted as he made his way to the tethering post, letting her threats and screeches fizzle into the cool, twilight air. Leather-gloved hands worked at the harness of the dappled stallion you had been admiring earlier, easily more than 18 hands tall and capable of carrying this brute. You had imagined earlier slicing that very harness and riding hard across the cobblestones away from your father. Away anywhere.

'Good sir, are you in need of lodgings?' The words dripped from your Father's lips like ichor. You could smell the sickly underlying rot.

The Knight's hands stilled, head still lowered. His voice rumbled out, deep and rough as gravel.

'You offerin', then? 'ow much will that cost me?'

'Well, it's busy in the Festival. The guest houses are full but my home is open to weary travelers-'

A barked laugh cut him off. The Knight raised his head, pinning your father in place like a moth in a hobbybook. You quickly looked away, pretending to busy yourself with a nearby fruit cart. His face was covered, a dark black slash across his lower face like an empty maw. But his eyes. You could have drowned in those eyes, dark as they were. They pulled you in more than the call of the river on your bad days. If you stared too long you'd never wade out.

'Ain't you charitable,' you couldn’t see his mouth but you were sure that he sneered.

'Well, a former soldier should be willing to support the Crown. Although, with a mouth to feed a few coins wouldn't go amiss..' his hand swept back and you tried not to cringe away.

'Former solider, eh?' Your Father clearly had the Knight's attention now. As did you. Though you continued to look away you felt his gaze like you felt touch. Like he was grasping you, keeping you still. Your head felt heavy as you raised it towards them, now a part of this bargain whether you wanted to be or not.

'I know what it's like to seek the comfort of a warm hearth and soft bed. I would not see you ride off into the cold night.'

The Knight huffed; you could almost mistake it for a laugh. Though quiet, the voices and laughter of the nearby inns seemed quieter, like all sound and light was absorbed by this armoured beast. Once, just after your mother died, you headed to the riverbank as always for work. It was barley daybreak, some of the older more experienced women already beginning their washing, but you walked on. And on. Until the river led you to its mouth, rushing and rocky and dangerous. You wanted to jump in. You felt the same now, gazing at this man.

'How much for the girl, then?' He looked right at you as he said it, catching your wide, staring eyes. You didn't blink, couldn't look away.

'She is my daughter! Sir, I-' that same rot, spewing out of his mouth.

'I didn't ask who she is, I asked 'ow much?'

Your Father took a step towards him, faltering under the weight of his gaze. He leaned, then, trying to seem ashamed. Trying to seem like a father should.

'Sir, she is my daughter. I can do nothing but take offence at what you are suggesting.'

The Knight pulled out a small velvet purse, heavy and distended with coins. They clinked as they smacked into the cobbles at your Father's feet. All pretenses dropped, then, as he scrambled to pick it up with greedily shaking fingers. Prize in hand, he found his courage as he sidled closer to him, thick neck open and exposed as he leaned in to whisper his betrayal. His filicide.

'She's a bit older, yes, but unused to the ways of men, mind. With a firm hand I'm sure she cou-' a gloved fist at his throat turned perfidy to gasps. You watched red bloom instantly under those fingers, and marveled at the strength. The violence.

'Your own daughter,' he sneered. 'What kind of man, soldier at that, would sell his daughter to a man like me?'

Your Father was bigger than you, yes, but looked like a poppet in the hands of this beast, so easily dragged towards him ready to be shaken in his maw.

'I'd love to think that she isn't yours, that she's some whore you peddle out to drunken leches in the alley. But you're slimier than an eel in birdshit, aren't ya?'

You didn't move, didn't speak as you saw his fingernails scrabbling uselessly against the unforgiving strength. You, for a small moment, felt the claw release your tail. Run, you thought. A look at this behemoth and his horse had you thinking again. Run where?

Be quiet, be meek, be sweet.

'Please!' The plea bubbled up your throat like acid.

He said nothing, did not loosen his grasp, as he tilted his head like a dog.

'It is as he says. He is my father,' you continued.

A scoff stilled your words.

'Some father, look at the state of ya.'

You looked down at your chapped, scarred hands. Your patched, slightly-too-short shirts. You felt the throb of the bruises on your upper arms, the beginnings of hollowness eating away at your usually plump cheeks.

'You mistake me, Sir,' You could barely hear your voice over the blood rushing in your ears. 'I am not asking for his life. I am asking you to take me with you. Please.'

Silence. His eyes flickered over you anew, contemplating. Your hummingbird heart fluttered in your chest.

'Close y'r eyes, girl. Until I say.' Your shocked hesitance made him growl. 'Now!'

The imprints of tavern candlelight burned behind your lids. You let the corners of your mouth flick up.

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

Your Knight's name was Simon. The Ghost, it was rumoured. You weren't seasoned on the field so you knew not of his reputation, but the reaction of those you encountered gave it away. Even without the blood staining his hands he was imposing. Tall, broad, intense. You still hadn't seen under the kerchief he kept around his face, but you spent many nights imagining. Was his nose crooked, or was it a trick of the light on fabric? Did he have stubble across his jaw that matched the fine, blond strands that decorated the top of his head? Did he smile? Scowl? Was he handsome?

He was gruff, certainly. You spent the first few days obeying your mantra - be quiet, be meek, be sweet -but it didn't provoke anything in him at all. Neither praise nor censure. It seemed, rather, that he was determined that your presence would be nothing more than a fact of circumstance. Not worth much fuss.

'She needs winter clothes. A nice dress. A travelling cloak. And some boots.'

That was how you found yourself perfectly still, getting prodded and pinned in the parlour of a tailor shop in the city's mid-tier. The seamstress' cheeks burned red as she turned her disapproving eyes between her task and the Knight who refused to leave the dressing area. He dwarfed the chaise, leather and chains indenting delicate brocade. After a grunted 'She's my Charge. If you want my coin, then 'm not leavin'' he sat silent. Just kept his eyes on your face. As always.

You couldn't find it in you to feel embarrassed. He'd done no more than see you in your petticoats, even at the guesthouses where you lodged for the night. An altogether better set up that you could've envisioned for yourself. You had thought your Father like a sly weasel, thought any future husband like a carrion crow ready to pick over whatever your Father left. But you thought Simon like a grizzled old guard dog. A dormouse held no interest when bigger prey was to be had. When you didn't pose a threat.

He clothed you. Fed you. Ordered hot bathwater for your room - a luxury you had never experienced - and otherwise left you alone. All he touched you with was his gaze, steady and unashamed. Strange how you now saw your silence -quiet, meek- as a barrier.

'Where are we going?' You worked up the courage to ask as you rode behind him up to the next tier of the city, seeing wooden roofs change to tile.

'The Palace.'

'The Palace? What, but what about me?'

'You asked me to take you wiv me, didn' ya?' you felt the rumble of his words all the way from his chest to your arms.

'Yes, but.. What, what will I do there? How will you explain this?'

You realised now your lack of foresight. You foolishly assumed that someone high-ranking wouldn't be starting brawls in lower-tier taverns. Or magistrating over scoundrels due to the sale of their daughters. You thought, perhaps, of an impoverished country knight who came to the city only for the festivities. You could bargain your way (or slip away) if he turned out to be just as bad as your progenitor, and make a living in one of the towns or hamlets that stretched along the woodlands of the Kingdom. Foolish girl.

'No one will ask questions. No one will bother ya,' You believed him, felt the threat in his words.

'But they'll think. They'll wonder.' I wonder, you thought to yourself.

'Can't stop that,' He snorted. 'Why don't you ask me what you really want to ask?' He pulled sharply on the reigns, causing you to clutch hard around his waist and whisper your words pressed into his back.

'What are you going to do with me?'

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

"Ho, Simon! Hard to drag ye from yer hermitage in Northmire,' you stared as a smiling Isleman slapped your Knight hard on the back, hooking his arm and dragging him down into the booth. 'And ye've brought a wee Bonnie thing with y-'

'That'll do, Johnny,' Simon growled. Still, he let himself be handled onto the bench. He looked at you, standing still, staring at the other side of the table. 'Well? You sitting down or wot?'

You scrambled down beside him, too timid to sit next to the laughing stranger. Too wary to put your back to the rest of the tavern. Past Simon's profile, you snuck a peek at the man - Johnny - and found him looking back at you. He looked friendly, sure, but you were reminded of the harriers that plucked young hens from the woods. His eyes were too sharp, too bright. His smile was a little wicked, too. Too intense to be without danger.

'Well, the King'll be happy. He'll finally have a real reason to say naw to all the harpy mothers pecking at him about their single daughters. Cannae say I expected it, but congratulations,' You blinked. 'Cannae believe you beat Garrick to it an' all, thought fer sure he'd be the dutiful one. Well, first that is.'

Simon ignored him as he flagged down the serving girl. He ordered for you, as always.

'Bit bold of ye, though, plastering her in your colours. Scared o' a challenge to her? Like anyone would chance their arm seeing her wi' you, Your Grace,' Johnny laughed again, blue eyes shining as he watched Simon's jaw tick under the scarf. 'Go oan then, introduce us.'

'Dormouse, meet Johnny.'

'Aw, come oan!' Johnny leaned over, then. 'He's forgotten his manners all the way oot in Northmire. I'm John MacTavish, of the Northern Isles. I've known this one fer a while, but never knew him tae settle.'

You squeaked out your own name in return, quickly taking a sip of the weak ale Simon pushed in front of you. Gave yourself more time to take stock. He too had the King's colours in a sash across his chest. Unlike Simon, he wasn't wearing full mail or a face covering. A heavy shirt of forest green, a red tartan kilt, and thick knitted socks were his attire of choice. Blue warpaint swirled from his temples down to his jaw, and he'd shaved his hair only on the sides. Not commonly seen in the Tiered City, but you knew the islanders to the North of the mountain wore similar garb. You let your eyes catch the glint of a dagger in his socks, as well as the hefty broadsword hooked by the table. The warpaint on his face was not just for decoration.  

You stayed quiet, munching on thick slices of bread dipped in broth as they talked, Low, rumbling voices and warmth from the hearth lulled you to a wakeful sleep, eyes still open but mind calm. MacTavish had called Simon 'Your Grace'. You were wearing his colours. You were going to the Palace. Something about that niggled at you, deep at the base of your skull.

You woke to Simon gently sliding you along the bench. Big hands and stained fingers so soft, like you were an overripe damson he wanted to preserve.

'Time for bed. C'mon, mouse.'

'Why do you call me that?' You murmured, still feeling his arm around you as he led you to your rooms. 'I never told you that was my Mother's nickname for me. Dormouse.'

You felt him huff out a laugh, pressed close against you.

'Didn't need ya to. It's obvious.' he answered after a pause. He leaned down, bracing you against the  room door. Only his scarf separated you from his flesh, close as you were. Wide eyes meeting dark. You shared the same breath.

'You're quiet like one. Seem sweet. But I saw you'd be willing to chew y'r own leg off to escape a trap,' he whispered that horrible truth so tenderly. His blunt, calloused fingers left firetrails on your cheek. 'My mouse. My survivor.'

His thick forearm braced your back as he opened the door, stopping your from tumbling into the emptiness behind. He needn't have bothered; you'd already fallen into him.

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

'How many more days' to the Palace?'

'Two, if we don't loiter. Johnny'll meet us at the gates to the Citadel.'

You looked up, seeing the Palace fortress taller and more intimidating than it had ever seemed down at the city's lowest levels. You were awed by the mason and marble buildings up here, the clean streets and cleaner people. Everything seemed to gleam this high-up. This close to the sun. Close to the Palace. Your skin had started to heal, after a week or so without labour and with good meals and rest, but you could see the discolouration that would never fade. It made you pick at your sleeves. Dormice didn't gleam. They hid.

You looked at the wide streets and their sun-bleached stones. Nowhere to hide here.

'And when we get there? What will happen?'

'We'll greet the Court. I have news for the King. They'll be a Ball f' the Festival. And you,' Simon stilled your steps, 'You will be good. You'll do as I tell ya. Not everyone is a friend. And I won't always be wiv ya.'

Perhaps you imagined it but you swore you could see something soft - warm - in those dark eyes of his as you nodded. You had years of experience avoiding the attentions of predators; you could do the same for Simon.

When you reached the Citadel Gates Johnny was waiting as foretold, chatting with a guardsman by the pulleys. He perked up as he spotted Simon's horse, all dappled grey with black skull harness. A proud danse macabre, carrying The Ghost.

'Here they are, the Duke and Duchess of Northmire! Let them pass, go oan. Here, raise his banner.'

It was a good thing that your blood turned to ice in your veins; it prevented you from letting go of Simon's waist. You watched as a square banneret in the same colours as your new travelling cloak - and dresses, and overskirts, and, and - rose to flutter slightly below the banner of the King. The wind lured the heavy fabric to thwack against the sky, echoing the drumbeats of your tambour heart. What were you marching towards?

Johnny had mounted his own stead, canting a light pace next to you and Simon.

'Ye should hae seen the ponces and pricks - sorry, My Lady - who came riding up here in their carriages this mornin'. I ken they think they were showing off but the guards and I were havin' a barry laugh watching the wheels get stuck in the cobbles and streets from the mid-tier all the way up-'

'Y'r point, Johnny?'

'Alright, cool yer blood. The point is, we've got tae change our travel plans. Be at the Palace tomorrow, nae a day later.' He sent Simon a significant look that you weren't so stunned as to miss. 'We've got a night hosted by Garrick's sister, then we'll be off in the morning.'

'Garrick's sister' was a comely, slender woman with sharp eyes and a kind smile. She, or rather the Garrick family, kept a townhouse in the top tier close to the Citadel as well as their estate at Thamesbury.  As a close peers and allies of her brother, her doors and hospitality were open to you all. You didn't want to seem like the uncultured urchin you were, but even the entry hall surpassed any luxury you'd seen thus far. You had to suppress an instinctual flinch as her manservant stepped behind you to reach for your cloak. Or perhaps the lessons from the streets were written all over your wide eyes. You saw Johnny chew on a smile as Simon glared down at the man, massive arms crossing across his great oak chest.

'That'll do,' he growled. 'There are saddlebags to be seen to.'

The poor man scarpered with a stuttered, 'Of course, Your Grace.'

You stared after your Knight as he stomped up the stairs, heavy footfalls disturbing the frames of the Garrick ancestors across the walls. He looked back, silhouetted with a hand outstretched.

'C'mon then.'

His rough, warm hand enclosed yours and you followed him to exegesis.

Ensconced in your chambers - shared chambers, marriage chambers - you found your tongue.

'Should I be calling you 'Your Grace'?' Be meek, be sweet.

He snorted, inelegant against the filigree and flowers that bore witness to your unsettled feelings.

Be meek, be sweet. Be meek, be sweet. Be meek-

'I do not speak in jest, Simon. Sorry, 'Your Grace',' Your mouth twisted, trembling with the force of holding back. 'I asked you to take me with you, yes, and I have tried not to inconvenience you beyond…beyond the circumstances of our meeting. But I must demand, now. Tell me what is going on.'

He merely tilted his head, old grizzled dog on a velvet chaise. You could see his lips - what did they look like, what did they feel like? - move under the black of his kerchief.

'We're in a guest room, talkin'. Listenin' to you ask stupid questions.'

'If the question seems stupid it is because you have made it so!' You felt your stubby nails bite into your calloused palms. The feeling made you shake, brought tears to your eyes. Shame and fear turned saliva to acid. You flung your hands towards him. 'Look! You see these. These are not the hands of a girl addressed as 'Duchess'. If this is a joke, I ask you to stop it now. I am grateful to you, I will remain so always, but playing in this manner is lower than whatever my Father had-'

"Do not. Compare me. To that man.' His growl cut you from cutaneous to cartilage, exposing your raw, soft innards. You hoped he'd be kind. Even if he chewed on your heart, popping gristle between sharp canines, perhaps you'd be a part of him, dripping down his throat with an intimacy you longed to initiate.

Viper-quick, your hands were in his. Your lap was in his too. Too warm, too bulky, too close.

'Quit y'r squirmin'. Look at me, no. Look!' Your jaw was turned more gently than you expected from hands made for violence. You couldn't meet his eyes, but that mattered not as he brought your hand and his up to your sight. 'Look. My hands aren't delicate neither.'

You took a deep breath, feeling him pant underneath you, and reached to cup his hand in yours. Butterfly-soft, you turned it, watching candlelight catch on silver scars and pockmarks. Deep gouges and veins raised valleys between knuckles and wrist. One finger seemed slightly too short, like the top joint had been lost in some gruesome accident. When you looked at the palm, it was calloused. You had already felt its roughness, deep imprints from years of work. Of war. He flexed, closing his fingers around yours.

'I'm not 'of the blood'. I'm good at spillin' it, but the stuff inside me isn't worth much. Was a Squire. Then a Knight. Caught some eyes on the battlefield and was sent to defend the borders. Became a Margrave for it an' all. Now I'm a Duke. The titles don't mean much t'me, except I've got more coin and can tell nobles to fuck off without spending a day in the stocks.'

You're not sure whether your sigh was a laugh.

'Then, what? Please, Simon. What are we doing here?'

With your face this close to him you were reminded of the night in the tavern where you first met Johnny. You felt that you were sharing the same breath then. Now, here on his lap, you felt more. The warmth of his body that leeched through your skirts. The hard press of tough leather plackart. The pounding of his heartbeat - or was it yours - as you clutched his hand with trembling strength. That same trembling strength had you meeting his eyes at last, your position allowing you to be equal in height. His pupils dilated under scarred eyebrows, deep brown melting into pitch black.

'I took you wiv' me. It was sealed in blood. You're mine.'

You cupped his jaw, feeling stubble peek through his scarf. The sensation grounded you, kept you from flying off as his words used all the world's gravity.

'Bit of a terrible dowry, blood.' You whispered, a whisker away from his lips.

'I'm not made for anything else.'

Wrong, you thought as you pressed your parted lips to his covered ones. You were made for me.

His hand trailed up your arm as yours trailed across his jaw, two bodies with one mind. With deft, strong fingers you removed the last barrier between you. Black fluttered to the floor, still flesh-warm, and your lips met again. His lips were a little thin, but hungry. He groaned, supplicant to your taste, as you sought to press him closer. You could feel stubble tickling your chin, and the firm outline of another scar close to his cupid's bow. Lightning struck across the back of your neck, making you shudder against him. All you could taste, all you could smell, all you could feel was Simon.

And he all was yours.

After his face mask fell, so too did all barriers. You feel asleep together, entwined on the same bed. You awoke to his face made soft in the morning light. Sunbeams danced in the crevices of his scars, pale and rugged like the mountain you'd looked up at as a child. You watched, sentry, as you mapped the features of his face. Golden hair, golden stubble. A crooked nose that had been broken and set several times. Tributaries of scars running down to a strong jaw. And dark, unwavering eyes that creased a little as you met his gaze.

'G'mornin'.'

'Good morning,' You murmured, still sleep-soft. You traced along his lips, laughing as he nipped softly. 'Why do you cover this up?'

'To preserve my modesty,' he smirked as his tongue flicked out to soothe your nipped fingertips.

'Simon!'

'I'll tell ya. One day. When we get back 'ome. I don't trust everyone in this city.'

'You can trust me,' you whispered as you pressed your tingling digits into his mouth, catching on blunt teeth.

You felt the heat of his gaze bring blood to your cheeks. His eyes didn't leave yours as he bit down, softly. You knew the dog wouldn't bite.

'I know, Simon. I trust you too,' You leaned your forehead against his. 'Just, wherever you go, take me with you.'

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

Got a part ii drafted (palace intrigue, meet John and Gaz, Ghost and his mouse finally enjoy marital rites *wink*, conflict, etc., eventual HEA) but I'm not sure if there's an audience for it. And this is the first writing I've published in y e a r s since my cringe forays into dark videogame smut as a 19 y/o, so I'm not really confident. This is unedited/not proofread. Here ya go~

[acrosscenturiesandgenerations]

▪︎ Upright serpent (Russian bassoon) with a dragon’s head.

Artist/Maker: Dubois & Couturier, Lyon

Date: 1835–1837

Medium: Maple; two valves, S-bend and mouthpiece made of brass.

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

💎 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Serpent’s Cuff
Wondrous item, uncommon ____ While wearing this brass ear cuff, you can understand the literal meaning of what snakes say to you, as if by the “speak with animals” spell, although you have no special ability to speak to them in return. In addition, a tiny, bell-like rattle sits at the end of the snake’s tail; it chimes softly in your ear to alert you whenever there’s a snake or similar serpentine creatures within 60 feet of you. If you’re poisoned while wearing the cuff, you can use an action to clamp its snake mouth down on your ear using a free hand. You take 1 piercing damage from the snake bite, and the poison is neutralized. If you’re afflicted by more than one poison, you neutralize one poison that you know is present, or you neutralize one at random. Once this property has been used, it can’t be used again until the next dawn. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[snek-panini]

Book time! I want to post all my new stuff but don't want to flood people with them, so I waited a bit after my last one to put this one up, but I can't wait any longer to show it off. This is The Rose and the Serpent, a Good Omens Beauty and the Beast AU by Atalan. I know there's some kind of fairy tale fic event going on in the fandom right now but this one is from a few years back, so if that's your thing and you're impatient go check this one out.

I'm totally in love with how this one came out. It's like, if you had a cartoon character who's reading a plot-relevant book of fairy tales, this is the book you'd draw for them. Belle has this book. It's perfect for its niche. The front cover is burgundy cardstock with brown faux leather on the spine, and antique-brass-finish photo corners to protect the edges. The rose was done with gold embossing powder and a stamp, since I can't draw and those lines are too fine for the cricut. The batch of books I'm working through now is my first time experimenting with legal quarto size (legal size paper (8.5x14 in.) folded twice) and everyone who raved about it is right. It's very satisfying to hold and was a joy to make.

Check out the rest of my photos under the cut!

Close up of the photo corners and a view of the spine. I've never used photo corners before, partly because I don't ever see them on commercial books, but they just felt right for this project so I felt it was time to experiment. I didn't glue them down, just clamped them closed with jewelry pliers, and I was worried they wouldn't stay in place but they seem to be fine. Cardstock isn't a very hard-wearing material, and if it has a white core it tends to show at the corners of the book where it rubs against things, even under light handling. Hopefully the metal corners will protect it.

The spine title came out well. I was worried about matching the color with the embossing powder color on the front, but they came out fine and I'm very pleased.

Top view, with handmade red-and-green endbands and a green ribbon bookmark. Both of these were chosen to match the absolutely gorgeous endpapers with this mosaic flower pattern. They're chiyogami from ChibiJay and they're stunning; the photos don't do them justice. I bought them because they remind me of the stained glass windows in the Disney Beauty and the Beast. CJ has this great deal where you can make custom paper packs in pre-cut sizes for a discounted price, and they've got hundreds of patterns. This isn't sponsored, by the way, I just think they're awesome.

Some photos of the title page and first page of the story. I'm experimenting with DaFont some more. The one on the title page and for the chapter numbers is called Christmas Card, and the drop capital is called Floral Capitals, both free to use for personal projects. I've only done drop caps on a couple of projects, because for purely personal aesthetic reasons I don't like when they sink into the paragraph, but if I can mimic them by just making the first letter huge? Love that. Defintely going to keep doing that. Can never get the kerning to look right when I do it the regular way, but with this it isn't an issue.

The graphics on the title page are re-used from an older project, but they were so perfect for this one that I just went with it.

As I said above, this is my first legal quarto but it for sure won't be my last! There are three more in this batch, and they're so pleasant to hold that I'll for sure be making more before too long.

[rogueshadow1124]

DARK TERRITORY

Tom riddle x reader

Summary: After a hard day, Y/N pays a visit to the girls restroom to freshen up, only to find an open passage way.

Word count: 2325

Warnings: mentions of blood/injury.

"Stupid potions always blowing up on me." A Y/H/C haired girl stumbled through one of the long corridors within the castle, dusting off her robes. Her face was contorted into one of annoyance, a low grumble setting in her throat before she let out a long exaggerated puff of air. This was the second time today a potion had blew up in her face, Professor slughorn had assured her that all she needed was practise but she was very uncertain, even when she read of the instructions- multiple times at that- nothingvseemed to go right and she for sure was nothing like the boy who was top of the class. Tom riddle.

Riddle. There was no one quite like him. He was considered the top of all his classes, he was practically a high class genius. Y/N had known Tom for a long time, she had observed him from a far and even had the guts to not only approach him but actually interact with him on several occasions and although at first he hadn't been too keen on her breaking his bubble of solitary and peace, she had somehow managed to catch his attention in other ways. What the girl hadn't seemed to notice was how Tom also observed her but he was sneaky, he stayed in the shadows, in the corners, watching her when she was in her own little world not even noticing the prying eyes that pierced her being from a day to day basis.

Y/N came to a stop outside the girls restroom, pushing through the heavy wooden double doors clumsily. She stompted towards the sink, and turned the brass tap roughly making it squeak at the harsh pressure that she applied. She leaned over slightly at a hunch, cupping hands under the stream of water and splashed her face to refresh herself and get off the excess dust that had cast over her cheeks and chin. A sudden clicking noise caught her attention, her head slowly turning at an angle in the direction of what sounded like the churning of locks and tics was coming from.

She squinted her eyes at what looked to be a now open passage way, the inside dark and eerie as it looked like an endless void of nothingness, there was no single slither of light but only the dimly lit yellow casting through that the restroom had. She stood straight, hands dropping to her sides and fisting at her robes, she couldnt help but step closer towards the crack between the two mirrors on the circular row of sinks. She reached out a hand, grasping at one of the frames on the side, the tip of her shoes just at the edge of the opening and just as she had gone to step inside she suddenly slipped, a scream erupting from her throat as she slid down into the darkness.

Her hands reached out in an attempt to grip onto anything in a panic, this didnt at all feel safe. She felt herself glide off of what felt like a step and landed on a stack of hard stick like figures; her eyes were screwed shut, breathes ragged and heavy as her body shook lightly among the masses beneath her. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth in a motion to steady her breathing, her hands pushed down on the sharp hard lengths so she could push herself up and onto her feet.

Only then when she came to a stand did she open her eyes, blinking rapidly to adjust to the dim and brisked room that she ended up in. It looked like a widely open space but something like a sewer at the same time. Her eyes moved down to the ground cement floor, bright Y/E/C orbs widening when she spotted what she had landed on, a gasp past her lips as she stumbled back only to hit a wall that she was sure hadn't been behind her before- whilst wide eyes stayed cast on the pile of bones a loud hiss broke the silence, making Y/N lurch forward with a jump, she took one glance behind her shoulder, screeching when she saw an oversized serpent covering above her.

Flight or fight kicked in, adrenaline surfacing to her blood stream as she set off into a sprint, tears coming to her eyes as she pushed her burning legs to take her away from the giant creature. Around the corner was a large stone opening where she had to climb through and over a step to get inside, there she saw a walkway that had staues of snakes along the length, leading to a wall that was in the shape of a man with an open mouth, he looked familiar too her almost an exact replica to who she had seen only in books and pictures. Salzar Slytherin.

Another hiss echoed through the room, followed by a crackle. She stumbled forwards quickly and set into a run again, but she ended up tripping over a crack on the floor, falling face first on her hands and knees, crying out at the heated pain that now spread through her palms and knees from the fall. She pushed up, turning so she sat on her backside, looking up at the serpent that stood stiff only feet away from her, Y/N started to push backwards, open wounds pushing against the floor leaving droplets and stains of her red blooded essence behind.

Out the corner of her eyes she spotted a figure, standing tall and dressed in a familiar robe that was similar to her own. Blurry eyes set on none other than Tom Marvolo Riddle- she hushed out his name but he seemed to take no notice of her, his lips moving slowly in motion but she didnt hear words at all, she could only make out long demeanering hisses and a hint of sharp tone that shone through a different language. At that the overly sized snake hissed back lowly, but didnt move an inch.

Tom turned to the girl, dark eyes looking down at her shaking form. A small smile twitched at his lips when he noticed her teary eyes but not at all did it seem kind, more so mocking and smug. She met his gaze, with wide doe eyes, looking like a deer caught in headlights more so a little bambi, small, innocent, scared. His shoes clicked against the stone geou d as she moved in her direction, crouching at her feet with his head tilted towards her.

"What are you doing down here Y/L/N." His voice rung in her ears, a shiver shooting through her spine at the cold motionless tone. She let out what sounded to be a whimper when she leaned back on her hands pulling them up and into her lap quickly, looking down at the irritated skin that was covered in the warmth of her blood that pooled to the surface slightly.

"Tom..." she whispered his name with a shake in her breath.

His eyes squinted, the way his name flowed from her tongue sounded so good- he enjoyed the shake in her voice, the scarce in her body language. It's what he craved, he wanted people to be scared of him, to he at his will but with Y/N, oh she intrigued him, he wanted her to be scared and at his will but not like others, no. He wanted her by his side almost as a companion, she made efforts to speak to him, even at the times he had pushed her away, she came back the next day more determined for him to give any kind of response; she was innocent, sweet but also cold and quiet, calculating and captivating, he didnt understand how someone like her could be a slytherin, he was very much so invested. He wanted to know every little detail about her, he had never been interested in anyone even merely but Y/N Y/L/N, she was one of a kind, someone with so many hidden secrets. He wanted to taint her, ruin her, in a way that he would have full control and she would need to rely on him in every way. "You shouldn't have been snooping, darling."

"I-i wasn't snooping, I sw-swear." She went to reel back as his hand rest on her ankle, but he had gripped her fast and roughly allowing her no room to remove his grip. He tugged her towards his crouched form, her robe sliding up her legs at the movement when she was pulled to him, her lower thighs resting at his legs, his hand hovering up and over her body until it reached up to her neck, his fingers feathering a touch on her soft skin just before his hand grasped her jaw, tilting her head to look up at him.

"If you wasn't snooping as you claim, then you wouldnt be down here. You would have ignored the open passage and minded your buisness." She pushed her face away, standing tall again begrudgingly reaching out his hand which she stared at with furrowed brows and a frown. Her eyes switched quickly to his gaze, meeting dark stern eyes as he rose a brow and nodded at his hand expectantly, Y/N sighed with a shake reaching up to his hand, letting out a noise when he pulled her up suddenly.

"Ouch.." she groaned, tugging her hand away from him and to her chest. Tom looked at her unammused but something behind the cold, darkened gaze softened, he hummed and pulled his wand from his robe pocket reaching for her hand but this time he didnt wait and took it in his hold in an instant. He pointed the tip of his wand down at the open skin of her hand grumbling out the word 'Episky' and in seconds Y/N watched as the wounds started to close up, sending a tingling sensation through her hand. Her eyes darted up to Tom's but he was looking down, her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, gaping before she uttered a "Thank you."

"Mhmm.." his eyes flickered up to her face, taking in her features; sure he had done this plenty of times but never had he been so close. He noticed how her eyes, they had a certain shine to them but not at all did they seem fully happy, they were vibrant, carrying some form of lonesome appeal behind a built surface, metaphorically she was an iceberg there was only so much that was in the open, at the top, the surface- however there were so many things that nobody knew, or understood, buried deep behind closed walls. He studied her every chance he got and all he had been able to figure was that she kept to herself, most of the time anyway but for some reasosn she chose to interact with him, sit by him, even if it was in silence nothing between the two was uncomfortable. "Why are you so fixated on being around me?"

It was more so a question to himself really, something that he spoke without thinking. She narrowed her eyes for a second, raising her brows softly with a hum. "I find solace in your company. Sure you're mysterious but I like that you keep to yourself, your not like anyone I have ever interacted with." Her eyes were quick to shift to the serpent that still hovered away from them, noticing how it never even left but stayed only watching from the short distance-

"Don't. Don't look into its eyes.." Tom's hand reached up and moved her face to look up at him instead, her face contorted into a look of confusion. "Wouldn't want you to be petrified, hmm?" Y/N's eyes widened slightly, her breathing picked up within seconds of hearing his words, suddenly becoming scared again after calming herself prior this moment, he smirked down at her. "You'll be fine. Just don't look into it's eyes."

"W-what is it?" Her eyes stayed focused of Tom's dark ones, air stuttering in her lungs.

"She is a basilisk- Nagini." He hushed out, the last part sounding with an elongated hiss at the end which made the creature let out a guttural hiss at his words but it still only stayed in its spot, standing stiff in place. His smirk widened when he saw the girl gulp, eyes being trained on his as she didnt know where to look- he enjoyed the fact she hadn't looked away, the feeling was so intense yet it was so good at the same time. "Y/N..." She seemed to snap out of the state she was in at the call of her name, beckoning her back to reality. Her eyelashes flickered as she allowed herself to blink, moving her eyes so she was no longer gazing up at Tom but over one of his shoulders the one opposite to which the basilisk was on. "You're going to forget about this..."

"I-I dont understand?" She tilted her head, leaning into his hand as he placed it on her cheek lightly, shifting so he could rest his lips against her forehead, not in a kiss but just hovering over. He turned her head to the side, moving his face to rest beside her own so his lips were now in line with her ear. "T-Tom?"

"Shhhh..." his hand trailed down over her neck and to rest against her collarbone. His other hand that was free brought up his wand, pointing it directly at her- the only thing was, it was out of sight so she couldnt exactly know what he was doing- he placed a delicate kiss on the skin beneath her ear before whispering the words 'obliviate' making her world turn black.

[esoteric-chaos]

Imbolc - Spoonie Witch Friendly

Imbolc is usually celebrated between February 1st & 2nd, in the Northern Hemisphere (In Southern hemisphere around August 1).

Imbolc is a fire festival celebrating the home, hearth, and the halfway point between Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox.

Is is the celebration of the return of the light and sun. A great time to honour the coldest days and the arrival of spring.

Imbolc Correspondences

Colours

White

Gold

Silver

Pastel Colors

Herbal

Rosemary

Basil

Bay leaves

Cinnamon

Myrrh

Hay

Chamomile

Angelica

Lavender

Daffodil

Blackberry

Willow 

Edibles

Blackberry

Root vegetables

Dried fruits

Stews

Mead

Fermented foods

Grains

Dairy (specifically ewe's milk)

Cider

Herbal tea

Canned foods

Oats

Animals

Deer

Cow

Sheep

Lark

Swan

Bear

Wolves

Groundhog

All burrowing and hibernating animals

Crystals

Gold

Silver

Brass

Amethyst

Moonstone

Garnet

Ruby

Symbols

Candle flame

Seeds

Besom/broom

Brigid’s cross

Serpent

Sheep (due to Imbolc’s association with ewe’s milk)

White flowers

Snowflakes

Flowing water and springs

Sunwheel

Star

Evergreens

Spiritual meanings

Creativity

Awakenings

Introspection

Fresh beginnings

Perseverance

Patience

Renewal

Revision

Healing

Frugality

Self-care

Youth

Scents

Cinnamon

Rosemary

Basil

Cedar

Mint

Gods / Goddesses / Spirits

Brigid (Celtic)

Aphrodite (Greek)

Bast (Egyptian)

Ceres (Roman)

Cerridwen (Celtic)

Gaia

Hestia (Greek)

Vesta (Roman)

Venus (Roman)

Athena (Greek)

Demeter (Greek)

Persephone (Greek)

Aenghus Og (Irish)

Eros (Greek)

Faunus (Roman)

Pan (Greek)

Cernunnos (Celtic)

Osiris (Egyptian)

Asmodeus (Demon, personal UPG)

Need some suggestions to celebrate? I got you covered.

High energy celebrations and ritual

Astral projection/travel

Divinations

Cord cuttings

Create a Brigid’s Cross

Gardening (best time to start to plant seeds)

Make resolution(s) and goal(s) for the year ahead (I'll fight to the DEATH about my personal opinion that this is a better time for resolutions than New Years itself. Best time for renewal and goal setting)

Ritual to say farewell to winter

Make bread

Spring clean! It’s the best time for it

Low energy celebrations 

Starting a manifestation journal

Burning a bay leaf with manifestation on it

Planning in your planner

Lighting a candle in honour

Make a cup of tea

Practice self care

No spoon celebrations 

Prayer

Putting on sun lamp

Greet the sun at sunrise

Rest

How you celebrate the holiday does not matter. You can choose to do any activity that feels right. These are only suggestions and remember that you're enough no matter what.

Also please note some stuff is UPG. A great book is Year of the Witch by Temperance Alden for honouring the celebrations and if you wanted to work more seasonally. It's not wiccan based and has plenty of resources for every witch.