#willow priestess

[magicwithclass]

[serpentmessmer]

making her a draconic sorcerer/bard actually was inspired of me tho jesus christ that's my evil princess i love her so much

[littleblackraincloudofcourse]

What if we all got it wrong?

Maybe Bavmorda wasn't a true villan, instead Bavmorda might have been an anti-hero.

Galladoorn kept people as slaves and her husband, the King of Tir Asleen was doing nothing to stop it. So she froze him and those loyal to him so she could take power. She didn't kill them, though she easily could have. They were protected inside their amber casings which apparently nourished them as well, since they were alive and well at the end of the film.

Bavmorda then freed the slaves of Galladoorn, gave them power and let them stay at the castle of Nockmaar. Now that she's gone, those that remain are hunted like animals, had their children kidnapped and brainwashed against them, live in the woods that are believed to be cursed and get captured and killed by trolls.

And yes she kidnapped pregnant women (which is not ok), but only because one of them was going to give birth to a child that would destroy her. If someone was going to destroy you and everything you've worked to build, wouldn't you do what you could to stop them?

She wasn't even going to kill the child though, only banish her to "a realm of perpetual sorrow." Be real, we live in one of those right now. Are your parents evil for having you? Are you evil if you have children in this world?

Bavmorda had the power to turn an entire army into pigs. If she were a true villan, why didn't she ordered for them to be immediately slaughter before they could be turned back? Even if she didn't know Raziel was back, magic was not forbade then, there were other sorcerers that could have helped them.

Speaking of Raziel, her rival, who she could have had killed at any time, instead she chose to turn her in to a possum. She let her live a long life in freedom, albeit as an animal, but still. Are these the actions of an evil person?

Bavmorda infiltrated a corrupt system and was dismantling and reordering it from the inside out. She did what was necessary to keep her power and in doing so, was protecting the many even if it meant sacrificing the few. Harsh but, unfortunately, sometimes necessary.

She was never the real villan of the story.

Our "heroes" from the series might be playing for the wrong side. Sorcha and Zivian could be the real evil in this story. Just something to think about.

[willowser]

i — want to write about gojo dying and you being tasked to bring him back and he comes back wrong. i don't have an excuse for these desires. sorry.

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Confession: when I rescued Derkeethus I was playing a stealthy character. Sneaking through the cave he looked at me and said with wonder:

"You remind me of the Shadow Scales, from the old tales."

I swear that had me decide then and there he was my man

Were you like:

A) The more that you say the less I know

B) Wherever you stray, I follow

C) I'm begging for you to take my hand

D) Wreck my plans

E) That's my man

F) All of the above

[bloodylariat]

Open Starters Links

Gabriel

Starter 1

Starter 2 (Training)

Elizabeth

Starter 1

Willow

Starter 1 (Intruder)

Damien

Starter 1

Starter 2

Cadence

Starter 1 (Library)

Starter 2

[astra-ravana]

Working With Hekate

Goddess Of The Threshold

Other titles: Keeper of the Gates, The Triple Goddess, Bringer of Light, Night Wanderer, and many more

Colors: Black, silver, gold, red, white

Herbs: Asphodel, trillium, ebony, fly agaric, garlic, aconite, yew, datura, cypress, belladonna, saffron, foxglove, mandrake, willow, black poplar, dandelion, mugwort, henbane, mandrake, yarrow, myyrh, lavender, oak, mullien, thornapple, bittersweet, poppy, wormwood, sage, rue, fumitory, dragon's blood, rowan, black copal

Crystals: Moonstone (especially black), labradorite, mother of pearl, black tourmaline, obsidian, black/smokey quartz, lodestone, nuummite, serpentine, auralite, abalone, corundum, zicron, hematite, jet, lapis lazuli, pyrite

Element: Earth/water/darkness

Planet: The Moon, Saturn, Pluto

Zodiac: Scorpio (Aquarius)

Metal: Silver, copper, bronze

Tarot: The Moon, The High Priestess

Direction: All

Date: November 16th, the Night of Hekate

Day: Any

Animals: Goats, wolves, dogs, owls, snakes, horses, crows, bulls, sheep, skunks, lizards, dragons

Domains: Thresholds/liminal spaces/boundaries, crossroads, witchcraft and sorcery, the Moon, herbalism, the poison path, necromancy, nocturnal magick, truth, secrets, hedge-riding, shadow work and integration of shadow-self, baneful magick, protection, knot magick, foraging, divination, creatures of the night, the Underworld, the Otherworld

Offerings: Keys, hair of a black dog, any of her sacred plants, representations of any of her animals, divination tools, black mirrors, wands, athames, bolines, blades, things in sets of 3, fruit, wine, blood, rituals/magick in her honor/name, feathers, fossils, shells, bones

Symbols: Blades, fire, keys, crossroads, gateways, doors, entrances, moons, torches, wands/sceptres, whips, the number 3

[nyxshadowhawk]

Hellenic Gods Fact Sheets and Hymns: Hecate

Other Names: Trivia, Brimo

Epithets: Anassa eneroi  (queen of those below), Aidonaia (lady of the Underworld), Amibousa (she who changes), Atalus (tender, delicate), Borborophorba (she who feeds on filth), Brimo (angry, terrifying), Despoina (mistress), Eileithyia (of childbirth), Enodia (of the roads), Epaine (dread), Euplokamos (bright-tressed), Khthonia (of the Underworld), Kleidouchos (keeper of the keys), Kourotrophos (protector of children), Krokopelos (saffron-robed), Liparokredemnos (bright-coiffed), Nycteria (nocturnal; of the night), Nyctipolos (night-wandering), Perseis (destroyer/ daughter of Perses), Phosphoros (light bearer), Propolos (guide), Propylaia (the one before the gate), Scylacagetis (leader of dogs), Soteira (savior), Trikephalos (three-headed/of the crossroads), Trimorphos (three-formed), Trioditis (of the three ways), Trivia (of the three ways).

Domains: Witchcraft, magic, necromancy, ghosts, nightmares, death, initiation, the crossroads, gateways, passage between worlds, and the night.

Appearance: [My UPG] A tall (over 6’) woman, neither young nor old, with waist-length black hair, pale skin, prominent cheekbones, a heavy jaw, and intense green eyes. She is usually dressed in black folds molded into a simple dress or robes. She has a severe expression and an intimidating presence. She speaks with a low voice.

Sacred Days and Festivals: Eleusinia (22 Metageitnion). Nemoralia (August 13th-15th). Deipnon, last day of each (lunar) month.

Symbols/Attributes: Torches, keys, daggers, strophalos (iynx wheel)

Sacred Animals: Dog, polecat, serpent, horse, frog.

Sacred Plants: Yew, cypress, garlic, willow, hazel, black poplar, aconite, belladonna, dittany, mandrake, hemlock, asphodel

Elemental Affinity: Darkness, light, fire

Planet: Moon

Colors: Black, saffron, silver.

Crystals: Black onyx, hematite, obsidian, black tourmaline, moonstone, smoky quartz, agate, amethyst.

Incense: Myrrh, almond, cypress, camphor, saffron, mugwort, pomegranate.

Tarot Cards: The High Priestess, The Moon, Death

Retinue: Empousai, ghosts of the dead, dogs, Lampades (torch-bearing underworld nymphs)

Associated People: Witches (and other magic-users), the dead

Offerings: Bread, eggs, honey, garlic, menstrual blood, graveyard dirt.

Syncretized With: Artemis, Diana, Persephone, Eileithyia, Selene, Nephthys, Ereshkigal, Nicnevin, Heqet

Hymns to Hecate

Orphic Hymn to Hecate

Hekate Enodia, Trivia, lovely dame, Of earthly, watery, and celestial frame, Sepulchral, in a saffron veil arrayed, Pleased with dark ghosts that wander through the shade; Daughter of Perses, solitary goddess, hail! The world’s key-bearer, never doomed to fail; In stags rejoicing, huntress, nightly seen, And drawn by bulls, unconquerable, monstrous queen; Leader, Nymphe, nurse, on mountains wandering, Hear the suppliants who with holy rites thy power revere, And to the herdsman with a favoring mind draw near.

Hecate’s Hymn to Herself

I come, a virgin of varied forms, wandering through the heavens, bull-faced, three-headed, ruthless, with golden arrows; chaste Phoebe bringing light to mortals, Eileithyia; bearing the three synthemata [sacred signs] of a triple nature.  In the Aether I appear in fiery forms and in the air I sit in a silver chariot, Earth reins in my black brood of puppies.

(From Porphyry’s lost commentary on the Chaldean Oracles, preserved by Eusebius of Caesaria in Praeparatio Evangelica. According to Porphyry, this hymn was composed by Hecate herself.)

Magical Invocation to Hecate

Approach, you of the netherworld, of earth, of heaven, Bombo! You by the wayside, at the crossroads, light-bearer, night-wanderer, Enemy of light, friend and companion of night, Rejoicing in the howl of dogs and in crimson gore, Lurking among the corpses and the tombs of lifeless dust, Lusting for blood, bringing terror to mortals, Grim one, Ogress [Mormo], Moon – you of many forms, May you come gracious to our sacrificial rites!

(Preserved in Refutation to All Heresies by Hippolytus)

Invocation to Hecate from PGM IV 2708-84

Come, giant Hecate, Dione’s guard, O Persia [daughter of Perses], Baubo Phroune, dart-shooter, Unconquered Lydian, the one untamed, Sired nobly, torch-bearing, guide, who bends down Proud necks, Kore, hear, you who’ve parted / gates Of steel unbreakable. O Artemis, Who, too, were once protectress, mighty one, Mistress, who burst forth from the earth, dog-leader, All-tamer, crossroad goddess, triple-headed, Bringer of light, august / virgin, I call you Fawn-slayer, crafty, O infernal one, And many-formed. Come, Hekate, goddess Of three ways, who with your fire-breathing phantoms Have been allotted dreaded roads and harsh / Enchantments, Hekate I call you

[…]

O Hekate of many names, O Virgin, Kore, Goddess, come, I ask, O guard and shelter of the threshing floor Persephone, O triple-headed goddess, Who walk on fire, cow-eyed BOUORPHORBE PANPHORBA PHORBARA AKITOPHI ERESHKIGAL / NEBOUTOSOUALETH Beside the doors, PYPYLEDEDEZO And gate-breaker; Come Hekate, of firey Counsel, I call you to my sacred chants.

[elvisqueso]

Pocahontas (1995): 3 times Pocahontas is compared to her mother + 1 time she's recognized on her own merits.

rambling lil meta under the cut

see, what's crazy about this whole situation is that it makes me wonder what exactly pocahontas's mom was like to have left such a massive impression on literally everyone in their community? there's that outright statement that "yeah, your mom's spirit is in the wind, basically, and our people venerate her as a spiritual guide (at the very least)." we know that she's the main connection between pocahontas and grandmother willow, and there's an implication in there that whatever leadership role she held in the village is expected to fall on pocahontas's shoulders someday.

i am so convinced that this role is some kind of spiritual leader/shaman position. wise-woman, priestess, whatever it's called. we don't see anyone else besides kekata performing any kind of spiritual rites, and even he isn't seen acting in direct contact with spiritual entities. kekata has to perform chants, provide offerings, and use a medium. pocahontas can just fuckign. talk to the things. how is she doing that? why isn't anyone else really able to do that? john smith could talk with grandmother willow but would he be able to if pocahontas wasn't there (i actually think he could but that's a different post)? has she ever done that for literally anybody else? nakoma never mentions grandmother willow. nobody mentions grandmother willow. apparently, the only two people who knew about her before pocahontas brought her new bf over was pocahontas and her mom.

i'm losing track of myself here, but the point is pocahontas is Highly aware of the ghost she's expected to live up to. and it sucks. and there's a lot more to her character arc about this but the eventual come-around to accepting that she has a responsibility to be more than herself and more than her mother's ghost is so heartbreaking because it also meant she had to let go of her soulmate at the same time so i c ry

[owlhousetarot]

King of Wands Demons: King Clawthorne

Upright: Natural-born leader, ambition, vision, taking control, decisive, bold, optimistic

Reversed: Tyrant, forceful, impulsive, ruthless, high expectations, haste, ineffective leader

At his introduction, both the upright and reversed qualities of the King of Wands fit King to a T—or at least, they fit his perception of himself. The once-mighty King of Demons, loved almost as much as he was feared, ruler of the Boiling Isles, leader of vast armies, and ruthless tyrant: reduced to a cute and cuddly not-quite-pet, feared by few and coddled by many. The King of Wands is someone who has a grand, ambitious vision which he realizes by enlisting followers and leading them through the process. Likewise, King is obsessed with collecting "minions" and assembling an army, craving the feeling of being respected, feared, and in control. He is often forceful and impulsive when he tries to get his way, like demanding Eda explode his insubordinate playmates, or buying a sketchy potion to get rid of Willow and Gus when they monopolize Luz's attention. The reversed King of Wands can indicate someone is either not suited for a leadership role, or not quite ready. Despite all of King's delusions of grandeur, in reality he's a child who needs a bit of guidance himself.

Deck Order:

< Previous: Queen of Wands | Next: Back To Masterpost >

Show Chronology:

< Previous: The High Priestess | Next: Seven of Cups >

[artemis-potnia-theron]

Personal prayers based on epithets 💜

Artemis 🌙 🦌 🏹

Praise to divine Artemis of the wolves and of the deer. She of the hunt and of the fire. Swift running archer who haunts the forest and roams in the night. Shooter from afar.

She of the hymns. She who soothes. Light-bringer Phoebe. Willow-bound and royal Diana. Beautiful empress who bears a golden sword on a golden throne. Strong-voiced revered maiden.

Beloved and loving priestess. Holy guardian who stands before the door. Immortal torch-bearer. Goddess queen of beasts. Praise be to Artemis, deliverer and savior.

Apollo 🎼 ☀️ 🦢

Praise to holy Apollo with the silver bow. Bright son of Leto and of Delphi. He of the oracle. Prophetic healer and foreseeing averter of harm. Light-bringer and destroyer of evil.

He of the locusts and the wolves. He of the python and the dolphin. He of the ash-trees. Rescuer and helper. Wandering physician. Far-worker and rouser of armies.

He who watches the heavens. Leader of the muses. He who protects the streets and bestower of Dionysus. Praise be to Apollo, shining light of the sun.

Hekate 🗝 🔥 🐕

Praise to mighty Hekate, destroyer and child of Perses. She of the underworld. She of the wayside and the crossroads. Irresistible and indomitable queen of those below. Holy bringer of light.

She who holds the keys. She who haunts the mountains. Nocturnal one. Fond of solitude and hidden. She who wanders in the night. Lovely and revered only begotten maiden.

Immortal guardian and spinner of fate. Leader of the dogs heralded by roaring beasts. Three-formed protectress at the gate. Praise to Hekate, attendant and guide.

Let me know in the tags if there are any other deities you'd like to see! 💜

[amaiahunterofartemis]

"Huh?"

Maybe the fact that I flinch whenever an older man raises his voice isn't normal 😁

@the-gods-abandoned-us @arisdaughter @mache-of-greece @demigod-jack-hearth @kaiaalwayswins @unhinged-waterlilly @yourlocalfallenstar @son-of-the-moonlight @luci-likes-dinoss @elixs-mythology-corner @bast-the-best26 @emdabitchass @if-chaos-was-a-boy @luck-is-crucial @dolorem-et-chaus @the-prince-telemachus

[tjwritesfanfics]

Universe Twelve *King Knight*

Pairing: Thorn Adams x Reader

Summary: Thorn’s upbringing was horrible, it felt like betrayal at first, but you weren’t going to let your leader face his demons alone. Your loyalty has him questioning everything around him.

Rating: Teen?

Warnings: Cheating?? And drug tripping

Words: 650

Every Universe Masterlist | Main Masterlist

AN I know that Willow accepted Thorn, but for now we enjoy fiction

“Banish him.” Your head whips to look at Rowena. “Banish him.” Then to Percival. Soon everyone had joined in, a chorus of banish him ringing in your ears.

They can’t be serious! Eyes going to Thorn, his head lowered, a defeated aura coming from him. You lock eyes with his life partner, Willow, pleading with her to help him. To do something, but all you could see on her face was betrayal.

You could understand where the coven was coming from, but to banish Thorn instead of embracing him went against everything you personally stood for. Judge not by the past, but by the actions they put forth.

Thorn bids everyone goodbye, grabbing his walking helper for his walk about and left the house.

“How could you all turn your back on him?!” You shout, jumping from your spot on the couch, unbridled anger in your eyes. “I understand not all of you were outcasts growing up, but that shouldn’t matter right now! Thorn has done nothing but be welcoming and understanding to all of your plights and now that he has a problem you turn away.”

“And you!” You turn to Willow. “You are his life partner. If anything, I would expect you to encourage him. Priestess, you disappoint me.”

Rushing past the people you considered your family, you chase after the only man who had ever understood you. You knew he found his life partner in Willow, but that didn’t stop you from being drawn to Thorn. You never questioned the force of fate before and you weren’t going to start now.

“Thorn!” He jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to come after him, and turned to you with wide eyes. “You can’t go on a walk about alone. You have weak ankles.”

“How did you… Y/n you can’t stop me. I need to face my demons.”

You shake your head, grabbing and handing him the canister you found on the picnic table, “Not alone you don’t have to. Everyone deserves someone to lean on, even if it’s just to make sure you don’t hurt yourself along the way. And also staying hydrated.”

Thorn stared at the canister for a moment before drinking half and handing it to you. “If you insist on coming, I am not the one to stop you, but please you also need to be hydrated as well.”

You toast to Thorn, downing the rest of the liquid, ready to follow him wherever this trip may lead you.

Colors became taste. Sight became sound. The gravity you felt once holding you down wasn’t there and floating became your mode of transportation.

You were unsure how far you and Thorn had traveled, continuing to lean on each other for strength, physically, spiritually, and mentally.

Never before had you felt this close to Thorn. Sitting together under a tree, a stable rock in one of his hands and a wise and wild pinecone in yours.

“You love him.” The pinecone echoed your own thoughts, “His life partner abandoned him, but you stay by his side.” You shake your head. As much as you yearn for Thorn, you weren’t going to come between him and the woman the universe chose.

“You love her.” Thorn looked at the rock he held in his hand. He knew the rock was right, but a part of him had a hard time accepting it. Willow was his life partner, but she betrayed him, though justified, it still hurt. But you went with him. Didn’t take no for an answer and refused to let him be alone with his own thoughts. It was probably the only reason Thorn had made it this far, made up his mind to go and face the people at the reunion.

Once this was all over, Thorn knew what he had to do. You would become his new life partner, possibly his true and forever life partner.

(Banners by cafekitsune)

[sunshinebingo]

Two Halves Apart

After several years spent hiding in the library beneath the House of Wind, Gwyneth Berdara has finally gathered the courage to come out into the light. With her found family by her side - and a shadowsinger who makes her heart beat a little faster - Gwyn is learning to embrace life, as well as her new powers. She is still slowly healing from everything that has happened to her at Sangravah, but she is almost certain that she cannot be more blessed by the Mother.

However, a spying mission one day puts her on the path of the one thing that can fill the strange void that she has always felt inside her. A void that has been left behind by an unknown twin sister.

✨Happy Gwyn Week 2024!!✨

I'm hoping to post a few chapters during @gwynweekofficial when they fit the prompt the most. This fic will include some Gwyn & Catrin, some Gwynriel, some Valkyries and House of Wind gang shenanigans and some OCs.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

Lyra held her twin daughters in her arms and sobbed. Months of bliss had built up to the most heartbreaking moment of her life. She had always known that this day would come. But nothing could make this easier. She felt like the worst mother the world had ever known for what she was about to do.

“You have no other choice,” her own mother reminded her.

Despite her words, the look the older river nymph gave Lyra from where she sat by the water contained a kind of pain that only mothers could feel. Lyra knew that her mother understood what she was going through. She wondered whether her mother had also cried back then, when she had left her only daughter in the hands of her father to be raised on land.

Lyra had always tried to convince herself that it did not matter. It did not matter that her mother had not tried harder to be close to her. It did not matter either that Lyra’s father had later left her at the temple of Sangravah to be raised by the priestesses instead of in the Forest House of Autumn after she was deemed too “untamed”. None of had mattered.

As she kissed the soft heads of her two daughters, she understood the choices that her parents had made for her, now more than ever. She realised that it did matter. She hoped that her daughters would understand as well. Lyra hoped that they would not feel the same resentment for their mother as the one that she had suppressed at times when thinking about her own parents.

As a half high fae who couldn’t permanently live in the rivers in which she was given birth, she had assumed, before she was sent to participate in the Great Rite of Calanmai, that she might birth a child who would only need the air and land. Perhaps, she had imagined, her child might inherit her pliant nymph bones and her ability to breath for much longer than any high fae could underwater.

She hadn’t known the risks that she might also birth one who would get so much of her river nymph genes that she wouldn’t be able to always live above the surface. If she had known… No. Lyra stopped her thoughts from spiralling. Her twin daughters were her blessings as much as they were one for the land of Prythian. Two innocent little beings conceived on a sacred night with a nameless male who would probably never know that his blood now ran through the veins of the ones Lyra held close to her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, rubbing her nose on the soft onyx hair of her first-born daughter. Hair that was identical to hers and her mother. Then, Lyra kissed the head of her second-born.

Although they were both born on the bank of a Spring river, their scents both contained a mix of land and water. Lily of the valley with a hint of willow tree. Similar scents yet with different heart notes that would be picked up by those with a keener sense of smell. It would be those more subtle scents that would linger on who or what the girls would touch for long enough. Spring jasmine for the first one, and Autumn vanilla for the other.

“It’s time to go,” the High Priestess who had accompanied Lyra to Spring told her. For six months, the High Priestess had remained in the Spring court with her. She had been by her side near the rivers of the nymph as she gave birth and took care of her daughters. She was the same one who had sat down with Lyra after learning of the true nature of the girls growing inside her and had explained why this must be done this way.

Because they were rare and precious, no children were allowed to leave the temple grounds for their safety. And as a priestess who had already pledged her life to worshipping the Mother, Lyra’s loyalty to her temple was expected to remain as unmovable as when she didn’t have a child in another court.

For this reason, Lyra couldn’t run away with her fae daughter to live near a source of water for the sake of the other. She had to leave her nymph daughter to be raised far from her, in a place where she would live amongst those most similar to her. The rivers of Spring where some of Lyra’s blood relative still dwelled was a better place than the small empty lake near Sangravah. Lyra at least found comfort in knowing that her mother had accepted to raise the baby as her own. Perhaps it was her way of atoning for leaving her own daughter, although Lyra now understood the impossibility that it would have been for Minerva to raise a land child in the water.

Lyra looked at her mother. “Take good care of her,” she said with tears streaming down her face.

Minerva placed a webbed hand over her heart and the other one on Lyra’s shoulder. “I will place her safety and happiness above my own.”

Lyra kissed the forehead of her first-born. “I love you, my Catrin.”

Her daughters both looked at her with similar wide, bright teal eyes, a trait that even Gwyneth had inherited from the water nymphs.

Lyra stood and handed Catrin to her mother. She couldn’t hold in her sob when she watched the intertwined hands of her twins being separated. Both whimpered and reached out their tiny hands in search of their sister. Lyra wiped her tears away and started to sing as she rocked Gwyneth in her arms. The little readhead fussed for a while, as did Catrin in the arms of her grandmother. Lyra poured her heart out in her lullaby. It was a song that spoke of love and loss and reunion, one that she hoped would follow the girls in their journey in life.

“I will pray for the day when you will finally be reunited,” Lyra told them after their crying finally stopped. She waited until their eyes closed to give a small nod to her mother. With much effort, she stopped herself from following Minerva when she slithered back into the water.

The lake glowed under the moonlight and made Catrin’s skin look even brighter. The glow intensified for the seconds it took for her little feet to turn into a tail when she hit the water. Catrin’s face and body relaxed further.

“I will also pray for that day to come,” Minerva promised her.

Lyra smiled in gratitude. “Until they meet again.”

“Until they meet again,” Minerva said as she slowly lowered herself further in the water.

Lyra watched until Minerva disappeared with Catrin underwater, then behind the vines of the willow tree that covered the path to the deep rivers in which her daughter would grow. She turned around and followed the High Priestess though her eyes remained on a sleeping Gwyneth in her arms.

“My little fire.” She brushed her thumb over the baby’s hair. A beautiful shade of copper that Gwyneth had undoubtedly inherited from Lyra’s father. Most Autumn fae had a varying shade of red hair, but Lyra would never forgot the male who had briefly raised her. The male who she felt in her guts Gwyneth would inherit more from than the colour of her hair. Someday she would tell Gwyneth about her grandfather and her grandmother. Most of all, she would tell her of her twin sister, the other half of her.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Fireleaf (Part Twenty-Three)

Oh, @greeneyedivy and I are SO not ready for this 😭😭😭. The LAST PART. It has been such a pleasure having you readers come along this journey with us. Right from the very first conversations Ivy and I had, when Fireleaf was just a little idea, we knew it was going to be something special. We've enjoyed every second of working on this story, and we thank you all so, so much for the comments, the likes, the reblogs, the asks. We appreciate you and love you all, and we hope you enjoy this final chapter!

And Ivy, my love, my soulmate, my moon and stars, my braincells, I thank you for writing this with me, for sharing your brilliant brain and ideas and coming together with me to write the Lucien fic we so badly wanted in our lives. I love you wildly 💋.

Warnings: None.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Dion and Willow were officially, finally, mated.

Their bond, your sister had told you in an excited letter sent to Dayview Cottage, had snapped into place when they, too, had decided to take a vacation. 

And though you and Lucien had taken an entire, much-needed month to just be together, you were looking forward to seeing everyone. To celebrating. To see what the new era of the Autumn Court was like.

“Hold still.” You murmured to Lucien, your faces inches apart. He’d watched your reflection in the mirror applying gold shimmer to your face, and had decided that he wanted to match.

“I couldn’t get any more still if I tried.” Your mate snorted back.

“You’re a fidget.” You dabbed at his cheeks, the gold absolutely resplendent against the tone of his skin. You leaned in to plant a quick kiss to his lips. “But a very pretty one.”

You couldn’t be more excited for Dion and Willow’s mating ceremony. A night of eating and drinking and dancing and just enjoying that the worst was behind you all. And after that, you were ready — ready to throw yourself into whatever the future held.

With both you and Lucien dressed up to the nines, the two of you stepped back to survey yourselves, side-by-side in the mirror. Your dress was of the same burgundy shade as the tailored jacket he wore. You’d both left your hair flowing down around your shoulders, little flowers pinned within — which Lucien had also insisted on joining in with. And with the shimmering gold on your faces, the sunlight streaming through the window, the love that radiated off of you both…

“We look…” you blinked, lost for words.

“Like a king and queen.” Lucien finished with a smile. “Or a High Lord and High Lady. Perhaps we should start our own court.”

You snorted. “A court of chaos.”

“A court of flowers and gold.”

You reached out, touching that gold that lined his cheeks, his outer eyes. “A court of poems and sonnets.”

And those russet eyes…emotion filled them. Love. Happiness.

“A court of always and forever.” He grabbed your hand. “Come, my queen. We have a ceremony to attend.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

They’d opted for an evening ceremony, when the colours of the court were at their greatest. It was as though the day’s sunlight had lent its vibrancy to the various shades of autumn, painting a landscape that was simply breathtaking.

Almost as breathtaking as Willow in her gown. 

Ivory and jewelled, every drop of light seemed coaxed towards her. And she — she was glowing. As was Dion.

They made an utterly stunning couple, and that feeling of rightness that radiated from them, their love…you knew that you and Lucien must give off the same feeling. And proudly so. 

The ceremony felt intimate, despite the many people who had gathered to attend. The temple in which it was held was bathed in the buttery evening light, shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows and seeming to cast a spotlight on Dion and Willow, and the priestess who had been selected to swear them officially mated. And gathered on the seats to watch the ceremony — your family.

Not the one you’d been born into. There was no sign of your mother or your other sisters, and it didn’t bother you one bit. Everyone you cared for was there, in that room. Eris and Linden. Catrin and Helion. Members of the Vanserra household’s staff that you were all equally fond of. And to tie it all up — you finally had the pleasure of meeting the other two Vanserra brothers, Lux and Hale.

It said a lot that they hadn’t rushed back upon Beron’s death, but were here for the ceremony, wives and children in tow. It was a relief that your introductions hadn’t given off any negative feelings, not made any alarm bells ring. It seemed that Lux and Hale were another two decent Vanserras. And had absolutely no qualms about the fact that Beron had been killed, and by Eris, no less.

And so, Dion and Willow swore their eternal love and loyalty to each other, their hands joined as the priestess announced them Cauldron-blessed. And with a chorus of applause and well-wishes echoing through the temple as they sealed their vows with a kiss, you weren’t surprised to find your eyes tearing up.

Such a journey you’d all been on. So much you’d all had to withstand. And yet here you were — you with your love, and your sister with hers.

Beron Vanserra had tried to break you. Had tried to destroy what you’d dared to dream of having. And now you had it — the happy ending. You all did. And he would never again be around to ruin it. 

You caught both Dion and Willow in a tight embrace, barely able to congratulate them around the lump in your throat. But when Lucien wrapped his arms around the three of you…when the four of you squeezed each other and truly stepped back to look at what you’d lived to experience—

You’d never felt happiness like it.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The true celebration began when the sun had set, and everyone had sat down for the feast. 

The air held nothing but a sting of pure elation as you ate and drank and talked, the various voices of your loved ones all mingling together to create the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. There was nobody in that room that didn’t deserve to be there — that didn’t belong. And as you sat at a table with your mate and his brothers, getting to know Lux and Hale and their wives, their children running around excitedly whilst you talked, your sense of family only strengthened. 

This was home. This was love. 

Soon, the food was gone, making way for the best part of the evening — the music and the dancing. A live band of minstrels played fast, excited music amongst the beauty of the gardens, and it wasn’t long before most were gathered on the grass, their clothes a flurried flash of colour as they spun and danced and cheered, the flames of lit pyres casting such brilliant, intimate light. Every song was better than the last, every dance more freeing.

It was in the gardens that you found Linden — leaning against a wall, a wine glass in his hand as he watched the dancing. 

Or rather — you realised, as you followed his line of sight — as he watched Eris dancing.

You sidled up to your friend, easing his chalice from his hand and finishing the drink off in one huge gulp. He gaped at you in comical outrage, reaching out to gently pinch your arm.

“Asshole.” He admonished playfully. “I was drinking that.”

Your eyebrows flicked up. “Were you? It seems to be that the wine went warm while you were busy ogling the High Lord.”

Linden scowled. “I wasn’t ogling, I was just…”

“Ogling.”

The two of you stared at each other, a beat passing—

And then threw your heads back in laughter at the same. Linden pulled you into his side, draping his arm around your shoulder.

“Okay. Perhaps I was ogling a little. He’s a very pretty High Lord.” A smirk played on his lips. “Where is your lover boy?”

“Right now?” Your eyes flicked around the huge gardens, looking for any sign of where Lucien had got to. “I believe he’s happily being chased by a group of children. I don’t have the heart to break it up.”

You felt the chuckle that rumbled through Linden as he continued to hold you against him. And you contentedly sunk into the embrace, savouring his warmth, his scent.

You’d lost so much time with him when he’d been sent away. Never again would you lose that contact.

It was as though he’d read your thoughts as he pulled back, angling himself to study you. And despite the comfort and ease you’d always felt with him, in that moment, you felt strangely…self-conscious, under the intensity of his gaze.

“…What?” You asked, running a hand over the tight, hugging fabric of your dress.

“You’ve been through so much.” Linden murmured, rare emotion sparking in his eyes that instantly replaced the humour. “So much in that time I was away. All those years I spent training you…strengthening you…I never could have imagined what you’d have to eventually face. What you’d have to use that strength for.”

Pink dusted your cheeks as you dipped your head. “You taught me well. It was the strength that you gave me…thoughts of you…that got me through it. I never forgot what you said when you gave me that braid.”

He smiled — though it soon dropped. “I’m just—sorry, Y/N. That I didn’t come sooner. That I—”

“Enough of that.” Your hand flew up to cup over his mouth, halting his words in their tracks. “We were both victims of circumstance. Of my father’s schemes. But looking back on it now, I think…I think I needed to face it on my own. To learn what strength I truly had.”

Your dear, closest friend stared at you, the regret in his eyes eddying and shifting into warmth. Softness. Pride.

“I firmly believe,” you said, removing your hand from his mouth, “that everything happened exactly the way it needed to. Even the painful, lonely parts. The parts when I wasn’t sure I could get through it. I think…I think I had to face those things to get where I am now, Linden. And I couldn’t be happier—”

Your words cut off with a whoosh of air escaping you as he yanked you closer to him, wrapping his broad, muscled arms around you and squeezing you tight. His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, and he pressed your face against his chest. Pressed a kiss to your hair.

“I am so fucking proud of you.” He said quietly — just loud enough for only you to hear over the music. “So proud. You are brave, Y/N, and you are strong. And I cannot think of anyone more worthy of this happy ending.”

Tears warmed your eyes, and you pulled back to look at him, your arms still wrapped around him. “And what of you? What’s your happy ending?”

You didn’t think he was even aware that his gaze immediately made its way over to Eris, still dancing and showing no signs of stopping. Linden seemed to consider your words for a moment, his head cocked slightly.

“I’m not at all sure.” He admitted softly. “The future is always uncertain, no? But…but for now, I have a reason to stay here. And I feel excited to explore that.”

You could already see it — Eris, High Lord of the Autumn Court, and Linden at his side. The two made a stunning pair. And perhaps Eris was the home that Linden had spent over two centuries searching for.

At the mere thought of it, you almost succumbed to your emotions again — until a burst of excited giggles sounded nearby, and both you and Linden looked up to watch Lucien happily zipping through the hedges, his nephews and nieces hot on his trail.

Linden chuckled, loosening his hold on you slightly. “What’s next for the two of you, then? Children?”

You blinked. “Cauldron, no. I’d like…I’d like to live first. To just…be with my mate. And to see what the world is like when I’m not watching it through the bars of a golden cage.”

His smile was so utterly brilliant as he placed a kiss on your forehead. “I can’t wait to see what you do with the world.”

Before you could think of a reply, Eris was suddenly flouncing over to you, his cheeks flushed and his hair tousled. He met Linden’s eyes briefly, sharing a heated smile that was too intimate for your eyes, before he turned to you. 

“Care to dance with me, sister?” He held out a hand.

Your heart immediately warmed — not just at that word, but…but at the memory. All that time ago, now, at the Harvest Festival, when Eris had asked you the same then, too. 

Neither of you had known, at that time, the bond that would be built between you. 

One that you knew you would never, ever let go of.

It was with a great, unguarded smile that you placed your hand in his and squeezed.

“It would be my pleasure.” 

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You didn’t know how long you and Eris spent dancing, your feet eventually beginning to ache and the heat of the nearby pyres causing sweat to roll down your neck and back. But eventually, the fast-paced music slowed into something gentler, and you smiled as the two of you followed its lead, falling into a more languid dance that offered you the space to talk as you moved around the other dancing bodies.

“You look beautiful.” Eris told you earnestly, fond eyes flicking over you. “I hope my brother told you that.”

You laughed softly. “He tells me multiple times a day.”

“Ah — you’ve trained him well.”

The two of you shared a grin, yours shifting into a softer smile as you stared back at him. “You look beautiful, too.”

Indeed, he looked every bit the honourable High Lord he’d always been. A tailored suit of the deepest red and gold brocade, a crown of twining autumn leaves atop his head, and the strength and pride that shone in his amber eyes—

Magnificent. Eris Vanserra — your High Lord, your friend, your brother — was truly magnificent.

“And how is it?” You squeezed his hand. “Being the most important person in the entire court, and all.”

He snorted. “It’s a fucking chore. I’ve never drowned in so much paperwork. I’ve almost lost my voice multiple times, from the sheer amount of people I have to talk to. Sometimes, I’m so tired that I fall asleep sitting up — eating dinner.” He paused, his eyes glancing over your head…to Linden. “But I find that I’m actually enjoying it. Perhaps because of who I get to do it with.”

Something squeezed tightly in your heart. The realisation, perhaps, that things couldn’t have turned out more perfectly for your close unit than it had.

There had been pain. Tragedies. A senseless loss of three innocent lives.

But together, you would all live for them. Together, you would make your court into something everyone could be proud of.

Eris suddenly pinched your side, and you raised an eyebrow. “And what of you?” He asked.

“What of me?” You shot back.

“How is it being a wife?”

Your feet stuttered in their movements, causing you to stumble so clumsily that Eris had to right your stance. You blinked up at him to find him smirking at you, mischief shining in his eyes.

“You little shit, how did you know?” You asked.

You’d deliberately kept the news a secret and surprise, not wanting to steal the thunder of Dion and Willow’s ceremony. 

But it had been that same night that you’d officially accepted your mating bond that Lucien had gazed at you, his fingers rubbing soothing circles into your skin — and asked you to marry him.

And you, of course, had accepted. 

You didn’t want a big ceremony. Not after all the planning you’d had to sit through for your wedding with Dion. The thought of months of planning a big event, just for the satisfaction of those you’d have to invite, made you recoil.

You just…wanted to be Lucien’s mate. And his wife. And so it was that very next morning that the two of you had gone to a temple alone, dressed in nothing but casual, everyday clothes, and had a priestess swear you not only mated, but wed. 

Lucien Vanserra — your mate and husband. You still couldn’t get your head around how lucky you were.

But the two of you had hidden your rings for the duration of Dion and Willow’s ceremony. You gaped at Eris—

“How did you know?” You asked again.

“One of the first tasks I wanted to face as High Lord,” Eris answered, “was to visit the various temples across the courts and begin discussions of repairs and renovations that my father neglected for years to arrange. He held no regard for the priestesses and their beliefs — and he allowed a lot of their temples to waste away over the centuries. It was during one of these visits that a priestess enthusiastically offered me congratulations on yours and Lucien’s nuptials — not realising, of course, that the two of you had kept it to yourselves.”

You snorted, hiding your face against his shoulder as your cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry. We didn’t want a big ceremony…after everything.”

“What could you possibly have to be sorry for?” He paused, pulling back to stare at you. “After all the two of you have been through, it seemed only right that you had something just for yourselves. Weddings are a chore, anyway. I’m happy for you.”

You swallowed hard, sure your eyes were glistening again. “Thank you.”

“And I’m absolutely honoured to officially welcome you to the family.” He grinned. “Mrs.Vanserra.”

You blinked, still not entirely used to the title. You’d not found yourself in a situation, yet, where you’d needed to be referred to by your new surname. 

It sounded…strange. Wonderfully so. And right.

“You know,” you cleared the lump from your throat, “there was a time when I dreaded the day I would be called that. Now…now I couldn’t be more proud.”

“Because you married the right Vanserra.” He squeezed your hand. “And you’re going to have a sickeningly happy life together, just as you deserve to.”

Never, under the heat of a thousand fucking suns, could you have predicted such an outcome. On that first night that you’d been at the estate, when you’d stumbled upon Lucien reading in the forest…never would you have thought that he would be the one to become your husband. Or your mate.

Perhaps you should have had an inkling — with how drawn you’d been to him, right from that first encounter. 

Be it fate or the Cauldron or the Mother…the path you’d journeyed, even at its toughest, deepest cracks in the road, had been the one you’d needed to traverse to get where you were now.

You had no regrets. Not a single one.

“And you and Linden…” You smiled up at him — your brother-in-law. “Perhaps one day, we’ll be revisiting this conversation, and you’ll be calling yourself Eris—”

“Y/N!”

Upon the interruption, the two of you glanced up…just in time to see Lucien hurrying over to you, hands firmly steadying the little girl who was perched on his shoulders…and who was sprinkling daisies in his hair.

“Look.” Your mate beamed at you, entirely in his element. “Hana and I made daisy chains.”

You stared at your mate. 

And then turned to meet Eris’s gaze.

And you knew — you damn well knew, as the two of you threw your heads back and laughed loud enough to drown out the music, that you were both thinking the same thing.

Thinking back to that conversation you’d had with Eris all that time ago, not long after you and Lucien had first slept together.

To what Eris had said to you: we don’t have the luxury or freedom to go gallivanting around fields and making daisy chains, or whatever it is that Lucien does in his spare time—

The two of you laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed until your stomachs hurt, until tears were escaping your eyes.

And Lucien just blinked at you. “What did I say?”

Eris snorted, shaking his head. His laughter was still choking him slightly as he let go of you, pushing you towards your mate.

“Dance with your wife, brother.” He said. “And stop hogging our niece. I want to dance with Hana.”

Poor Lucien still looked bewildered as Eris reached up, plucking his niece from his brother’s shoulders and setting her gently on the ground. And the sight of him tenderly leading her into a dance, holding onto her little hands and guiding her feet whilst she spun around in her dress — your heart damn near burst out of your chest at the sight.

But then Lucien was spinning you around to face him, planting his hands on your waist. You grinned up at him, holding back another laugh at the smattering of daisies in his hair.

He pushed his lips into a playful pout. “Why are you laughing at me, mate?”

Because you were happy. Elated. Because you could finally breathe and imagine a future. One that you’d chosen for yourself. 

But you merely pushed up onto the tips of your toes, a smile still on your lips as you kissed the love of your life.

“I’m not.” You said softly. “I just love you.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Hours upon hours passed, with no signs of the celebrations slowing. 

You enjoyed every second of it. Dancing with Lucien, and then Dion, and then Willow. Sitting down on the blanket that Catrin and Helion occupied and enthusiastically speaking to them, drinking down their stories. Getting to know even more about your other brothers-in-law and their lives, their histories. And you and Linden chasing the children through the wildflowers and joining their hands to dance in a circle whilst the sweet sound of childlike laughter mingled with the ongoing music.

It was easily one of the happiest nights of your life.

And when the sky began to lighten…when things finally began to wind down, and the children had curled up around Catrin and Helion and fallen asleep, and guests had begun to return home, and Linden and Eris and Dion and Willow each broke away from the group to go off in their couples…you grabbed Lucien by the hand and tugged him away with you. 

The two of you settled atop a knoll covered in vibrant wildflowers, and it was there that Lucien slotted you between his legs and you happily, quietly, watched the sun rise over the court, painting the sky in peachy hues. 

A new day for all of you. A new era. The rising of the sun felt beautifully symbolic, and for a long, long while, you and Lucien didn’t need to speak a word. You were content to just lie in the grass and flowers together, his fingers rubbing soothing circles into your skin. 

Day had truly broken by the time he angled you to look at him. And his russet eyes were brilliant and unguarded as he gazed at you.

“The book,” he said — the first words he’d spoken since you’d nestled down on that knoll, “the book of poems and sonnets.”

You reached out, idly playing with the braid he now wore every day. “What of it?”

For a moment, he seemed to ponder his words. And then he smiled…somewhat coyly. “I don’t know…it sounds a little silly, but…I began to wonder if that book was a prophecy, somehow. Of our story. Each of my favourite poems from that book — that I knew by heart before I even met you — seem strangely…accurate…to us.”

Your head fell into a tilt. “How so?”

He laid back, pulling you down with him. And his fingers slid into the strands of your hair as he stared up at the morning sky.

“The tempered glow of moonlit skies, sketched waltzes in his lover’s eyes, and no immortal heart did dance, the way his did so thoroughly.” He recited, the words smooth like silk. “That one reminds me of the masquerade ball — when we first kissed.”

You smiled, perching your chin on his chest. Gazing up at him. “And what else?”

“And in the storm, however brief, he bared himself for soil and leaf, and skin-to-skin he branded her deep, with all his flames that burned beneath — that one reminds me of the hunting trip. When we bedded down in that cave for the night and…kept each other warm.” He squeezed you. “And it goes on…a mossy cave that swallowed light, was where they bedded down that night, and as she slept, her face to his, he knew he’d never win their fight. And it’s strange…because I remember watching you sleep that night…looking so soft and gentle…and thinking that there was no way I was going to be able to fight off my feelings.”

Slowly, your fingers inched up to his face, dancing over his jaw, his lips. The words sent a shiver down your spine…such beautifully accurate words. 

It was almost as though that ancient, beaten-up copy of Poems and Sonnets Volume II had, indeed, prophesied the journey that you and Lucien would be taken on.

“I love that book.” You hummed softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It makes me think of that first time I saw you…reading it against that tree, and looking effortlessly beautiful while doing so. I found you breathtaking.”

His lips twitched beneath yours. “Even though I was terribly rude to you?”

“I think it intrigued me even more.”

The two of you laughed, your eyes meeting and just…staring. Drinking each other in, bathed in that early morning light. Your happiness glowed even brighter than the sun.

“There was one more poem…” Lucien murmured, his breath fanning your face. “One more that always stuck in my mind.”

You brushed your thumb over his cheek. “Tell me.”

He paused, eyes scanning your face. And then he sucked in a slow breath, as though he was…nervous. “…For she was love, and lust, and hate. The lightning storm that souls create. And what chased him nightly from his sleep — the truth. She was, in fact, his mate.”

You stared at him, a lump rising in your throat.

And Lucien stared back at you.

And you only became aware of your tears as your vision blurred, and Lucien was reaching out to wipe the teardrops from your cheeks. Reaching out to kiss them away with his lips.

It was your story. Poems and Sonnets Volume II was, somehow, your story. 

It had all been there, perched in Lucien’s hands, from the first moment you’d laid eyes on him. A beautiful telling of what was to come.

And you were thankful for it all — even the bad parts, the hard parts. The parts that had seen you curling yourself up to cry yourself to sleep at night.

Because every bit of it had lent itself to this outcome — you and Lucien here, now. In love. Mates. Husband and wife.

Lucien Vanserra. He was yours, and you were his.

It was a purely happy sob that choked you as you told him, “I love you so much.”

And those beautiful russet eyes shone brighter than any sun possibly could.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. A promise of forever.

“I love you, too, my fireling.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

lucien tag list: @brekkershadowsinger @sillycrownlady @ruler-of-hades @lectoradefics @lucyysthings @littlemoonash @janzquu @carmelalikestoread @cathyac @tasha2627 @elkessecretplace @inkyvelvet @acourtofthought @zazite95 @antisocialcookie16 @sehalpha25 @fuckthatfeeling @adamgetawaydriver @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @lostpirateinwonderland @scrunklybunny @owllover123 @vangoghsbaby @goodbyemilkyway @babyimagangsta2 @cynicalpotato95 @draguta @pee-stachio @rem-ie @mateobneun-rattattui

[telekinetictrait]

God help us – for art is long and life is short! (Faust: First Part, written by Johann Wolfgang Goethe and published in 1808)

hiiii heres the first part of what will (hopefully!!!) be a series of western women's fashion from 1800 to today. obviously, not all women looked like this or dressed like this. in fact, most didn't - these are largely going to be looks worn by women of a higher socioeconomic class, at least until maybe the 1880s. this is for a few reasons, mostly being, uh... availability of cc. i'd love to MAKE some historical cc but my laptop won't run blender. another reason is that the fashion of the upper classes is typically better recorded than that of lower classes, especially before the advent and popularization of photography. i'm just rambling now.

anyway! the first part: 1800-1809. we see the opulence of the georgians cling onto fashion in bows, feathers, and jewels. we also see the rise of waistlines to the iconic empire waist, and the influences of neoclassical aesthetics in fashion. hairstyles in particular were emulating those of the ancient greeks, also pulling a bit from the stuarts. this decade also allows me to share one of my favorite tidbits of fashion history: the coiffure à la titus! for a short time in the 1790s through the 1810s, some women (french women especially) took to cutting their hair short and choppy. the reasons range from inspiration taken from a popular play at the time, to symbolizing solidarity with women executed via guillotine. some men at the time thought that having short hair was actually hazardous to women's health, so while the titus cut wasn't the norm, it was widespread enough to cause quite a storm!

you'll notice that 1806 is missing. that's because the dress i used, uh... completely messed up the arms and i did not notice until i was making the gif. if you wanna see it, it'll be under the cut.

cc links + creator tags under the cut!!

see my resources page!

adelais : clepysdra's padme snail hair / ice-creamforbreakfast's vittoria pendant / hanalinori's morning in the garden dress / oydis' willow armlets / oydis' eloise flats

aelita : plasma-jane's athena hair, updated by my-historical-sims / s-clubs laurel crown (tsr download) / kaguya-fox's nioh oichi hair branch / simsonico's shining nikki shy lady dress conversion / dancemachinetrait's lydia flats

alanis : peebsplays' regency bun / joliebean's joanna earrings / leeleesims1's throw it on accessory wrap / dissia's amy accessory sleeves (tsr download) / zeussims' estrella gown

amalthea : simsonico's shining nikki shy lady headband conversion / mothz's accessory necktie / serenity-cc's accessory frilled turtleneck / sifix's hope dress (tsr download) / simsonico's shining nikki reminiscence of flower fan conversion

anamarija : okruee's cicero hair / pixelunivairse's pearls necklace / gilded-ghosts' bingley gown / maushasi's acc. lace top (search 'lace', accessory included in file) / dancemachinetrait's pemberley gloves / leonalure's transparent priestess scarf or here (REUPLOAD, original download on shady site. leonalure – if you see this and want me to take it down, just let me know!!) / dancemachinetrait's lydia flats

aoide : teanmoon's helen updo / zeussims' dreamer earrings / gilded-ghosts' highbury chemisette / sifix's giselle dress (tsr download) / dancemachinetrait's pemberley gloves

arden : bedisfull's feel my rhythm rose straw hat / izuko's urban animal faux fur scarf / gilded-ghosts' emma gown / dissia's ayiana accessory sleeves (tsr download) / simsonico's shining nikki reminiscence of flower fan conversion / joliebean's satin tip shoes

astrid : sadlydulcet's set 22 hat (search 'set #22') / nightingalesongx's low side bun / simsonico's shining nikki shy lady necklace conversion / dancemachinetrait's pemberley gloves / simsbrush's regency dress / dancemachinetrait's kitty flats

azucena : buzzardly28's gesina hair v2 / magnolianfarewell's venus dress / dustyratt's emma frost cape / dancemachinetrait's pemberley gloves / dancemachinetrait's kitty flats

thanks to @clepysdra @ice-creamforbreakfast @hanalinori @oydis @my-historical-sims @plasma-janes @kaguya-fox @simsonico @dancemachinetrait @peebsplays @joliebean @leeleesims1 @dissiasims @zeussims @serenity-cc @okruee @pixelunivairse @gilded-ghosts @teanmoon @bedisfull @nightingalesongx @simsbrush @buzzardly28 @magnolianfarewell and @dustyratt

(heres the failed 1806)