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breelandwalker · 6 months

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Hunter's Moon - October 28, 2023

Grab your masks and candy buckets and trim the twigs on your best besom, witches! It's time for the Hunter's Moon!

Hunter's Moon

The Hunter's Moon is the name usually given to the full moon which appears in October, provided that the Harvest Moon has occurred in September. Remember - the Harvest Moon is the full moon closest to the autumnal equinox and that can mean September OR October! The Hunter's Moon is next full moon to follow it, so it may occur in October OR November. The Harvest and Hunter's moons are the only two moons in the calendar which are tied to a specific event in this way, while the others reflect signs of seasonal growth or animal behavior.

Like the Harvest Moon, the Hunter's Moon rises big, bright, and early, and it may appear to be full for two or three nights in a row. The celestial peak of illumination is at 4:24pm EST on October 28th, but the moon may also appear full on the 27th and 29th. This year's Harvest Moon will also be sporting a partial lunar eclipse - check here to see if it will be visible in your area!

The name Hunter's Moon is taken from the traditional timing for the fall hunting season, as the name implies. The fields cleared in previous months and the gradually cooling weather meant that animals fattened up from summer foraging would be roaming in open ground, making prime targets for anyone looking to put some meat in the pantry for winter. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, this may also be the origin of the other common October moniker, the Blood Moon, which has been in use in the British Isles since at least the Middle Ages.

North American indigenous names for the October moon include Falling Leaves Moon (Anishinaabe), Freezing Moon (Ojibwe), Migrating Moon (Cree), and Big Wind Moon (Zuni). In several modern pagan traditions, the October moon is called the Sanguine or Blood Moon due to its' with the association with the hunt and with alleged sacrifices made ahead of the coming winter. (Keep in mind that any claims about What The Druids Did should be taken with a grain of salt, as they did not keep written records of their ceremonies.)

What Does It Mean For Witches?

October is a time to finish our harvests. We gather in the last of what we sowed earlier in the year and reflect on what our work has wrought and what our labor has produced. It is also a time of transition as the weather begins to shift more noticeably toward the chill of winter. Shore up whatever provisions you need for the immediate future and complete whatever preparations you've been making for the cold season, both magical and practical. A little weatherproofing goes a long way!

This is also the month when numerous Western cultures remember their honored dead and a time when some believe that contact with various unseen realms is more easily accomplished. If you're seeking advice or reassurance from the greater beyond, or looking to do some planning or forecasting for the coming year, now might be the optimal time to do it.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

Celebrate the end of the harvest season with your favorite recipes! Bust out that hearty stew or delicious pie you've been dying to make but kept putting off during the hot months. Use local produce to make something special and gather in the last fruits of your garden.

Get your divination game on! Many October party games include fortune-telling aspects for love or marriage or professional prospects. Choose your favorite method and see what it has to tell you about the coming year and where your current path may lead. Remember that the choices we make change the path and therefore the outcome, so try to regard the results as written in sand rather than stone.

Participate in the hunt yourself! Whether it's an actual seasonal hunt for game (safely and responsibly done, of course) or a bit of foraging or a personal search for something you've been needing, this is the perfect time to connect with that drive to seek and gather. Make one more trip for wildcrafted plants before everything turns brown and brittle. Stalk the aisles of your favorite local shops for craft supplies, new decorations, or perhaps that fancy hat you've been dreaming of for the upcoming holiday.

Prepare for the cold months! Switch out your wardrobe, heap those blankets on the bed, change the decor to something autumnal, and make sure your home and vehicle are ready for winter. If you do any seasonal crafts or fibre arts, start pulling out your accoutrements.

Shed your metaphorical skin one more time. Examine what you carry in your heart and where your priorities lie. If there is anything left that weighs you down or no longer serves you or disrupts your life unnecessarily, prune it away and let it go. This process is not always comfortable and may leave you feeling raw, but sometimes hard decisions must be made. You are not meant to be in perpetual motion or constant production. Give yourself permission to rest.

Consider also the parts of yourself that you don't always like. Is there value in the struggle to deny them and push them away? Is there anything that might serve you better if it was embraced rather than denied? So often we speak of letting things go and laying down burdens in order to progress. But there is also power in remembrance, in anger, in spite, in grief, in ambition. Remember that while you should forgive yourself for past mistakes and learn from them, you are not required to do the same for others. Remember also that setting boundaries is healthy and that if they are not respected, you are within your rights to remind others than actions have consequences. Protecting yourself is not always pretty and it is not always polite. And it doesn't have to be.

Happy Hunter's Moon, witches! 🌕🏹

Further Reading:

Additional Lunar Calendar posts

Secular Celebrations - Samhain

Hunter's Moon, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Hunter's Moon 2023: The Spiritual Meaning of October's Full Moon, The Peculiar Brunette.

Partial Lunar Eclipse on October 28-29, 2023 - Where and When To See, Time and Date.

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison, Llewellyn Publications, 2004.

Image Credit - Darkfoxelixir on Shutterstock.

(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

#Hunter's Moon #witchcraft #witchblr #witch community #lunar magic #moon magic #full moon #lunar calendar

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blackopals-world · 1 year

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Could I request Vil, Malleus, Ruggie and Jamil with a Fem!Yuu who is a seamstress that is really, really good at sewing, knitting, embroidery, and other forms of textile design.

If you're to busy to do this request, I completely understand.

Love your profile picture btw, it's so cute!

~Sure I got time~

Tailor-Made

Seamstress!Yuu x Vil , Ruggie, Malleus, and Jamil

(NRC is a mixed school with boys and girls.)

Crewel stepped over the scattered bolts of fabric as he tried to get to the bed. The room was a mess as always with sketchbook paper littering that girl's desk. Said girl was in a deep burrowing in layers and layers of loose fabric, pillows and discarded ribbons.

"My dear pup, I don't know how you will manage to get to class when you can't even wake yourself up." Crewel said to his ward as he pinched her cheek.

The girl grunted and tried to pull away before mumbling in her sleep."Five more minutes."

Crewel stared at her incredulously as he pulled harder.

"Five minutes, soon you will have no minutes! The carriage will be here soon and you're room is a mess, your hair is matted, and your not ready for school!" Crewel was rather upset.

If he had it his way she'd be shipped off to an all girls school in France but she chose NRC for some reason. Sure, it wasn't a bad school and he could look out for her, but the boys there where characters. Why did she want to transfer there?

After prodding her, Yuu eventually shook herself awake and prepared for the big day. Her stuff was packed and her familiar Grim was at her side.

"The carriage is here!"Crewel called up the stairs. The girl came running down with her hair combed and uniform tidy.

Crewel sighed fondly over the girl. She had grown so much from when she was just little pup. Her mother would be so proud.

Divya, was an extraordinary woman. He misses her dearly but her daughter was still his treasure.

"Divus? I'm leaving."Yuu looked at him with concern in her eyes.

"Oh right," He said pushing his feelings down as he kissed her forehead "Be good pup. I'll see you there."

"See ya, Da- Divus!" She panicked before rushing out the door.

With that she entered her coffin and had Grim stay at home until she the entrance ceremony was over. When she awoke it was time to stand before the magic mirror.

Her soul resonated with one dorm one made for her: Pomefiore

She stood up a little straighter when she heard it. Part of her had doubts but now she knew. Her smile was wide as she saw her guardian smiling at her as though there was no doubt. She was just like him and Divya, people who understood beauty and perfection.

Vil

Being a housewarden meant keeping his students in line. That meant also keeping students from fighting. The girls were currently dealing with a problem. One he had to take control on.

The new girl had caused a mess involving dye. Vil would have to punish her by making her clean. Though he couldn't help but do it half-heartedly.

She was rather meek about the whole ordeal and apologized over and over. She had done it with the best intentions of adding a color to her list of fabrics and it just got everywhere.

He couldn't deny that it was a rather nice shade of lavender. Still, he could see this becoming a problem. He chose to give her a room where she could do her dyeing hobby in peace. They had a room for such things anyways even if it was abandoned.

Form that day he rarely saw her. When he did she was scurrying around campus gathing materials or with friends.

He found out why from the girls. Yuu was working on something big and they were helping. They were bubbly and giddy as can be when he asked but they never told what I was. They did say something about the upcoming ball and cheaking on her. His curiosity peeked, he entered the sewing room.

The room wasn't dusty like before but the smell of old wood lingered mixed with perfume and paint. Yuu stood in the center with glasses perched on her nose and measuring tape around her neck. She was placing pins on the hem of a gown. Her eyes focused on getting it just right. She nodded before pulling out her pen and using her unique magic [Let's Stick Together] causing the pieces of fabric to fuse together.

She fingers danced across the waterfalls of handspun lace as she pulled, cut, and sowed the gown. It was the same color that drew Vil's eyes.

He looked around as the seamstress focused and became taking note of other objects in the room. Mannequins were lined up in rows. Each had a suit or dress that was meticulously crafted but some were bare. Each were designed beautifully. The moment he touched the silk of one the suits his eyes caught sight of a silhouette.

In the corner of the room was a mannequin covered by linen.

Vil eyed the unaware girl and heard the 'click clack' of her hands weaving lace designs.

He lifted the blanket and he was more then just enraptured.

The suit was quite grand, vintage but new.

When Vil saw it he felt a pull in his chest. One you'd get if you saw something perfect for you while browsing and you are over taken by such a need and desire for it.

He wanted this suit. The ball was in ta few weeks and had a outfit planned but he needed this suit. Only this one would be worthy of him.

His eyes went back to the girl who finally looked up.

"VIL-SAMA!" She shouted her glasses falling off her face but still attached to the chain around her neck.

"I see you've been working very hard." Vil praised her with a pat on the head. Yuu wrinkled her nose blushing at the remark.

"What are you doing here?" She asked dumbfounded.

"I wanted to check on you. There is so much silk and satin here you'd think it was my closet." Vil mused.

"Oh, this? A few of the girls are paying me to make their gowns for the ball and a few boys too. I've been making them in pairs." Yuu said showing off her latest gown to be finished.

"I see, what about that one?" Vil pointed to the suit that was hidden away.

"Oh, not that one. It wasn't really made for anyone." Yuu shook her head as she pulled the cover back over it. "It's not worth looking at."

Vil felt a sting in his chest. How could he say that about something so stunning, something she made with her own hands.

"You seemed to work very hard on it. "Vil said keeping calm.

"Yeah, I guess. It's not very good though. I think I made it to match some kind of prince aesthetic but messed up. Besides what good is it if no one would wear it." Yuu sounded upset with herself "It's better sometimes to stick with what you know people like. People like handmade clothes. Something made for them, not for me."

Vil wanted to argue with her but he couldn't. She was right in some aspects. Only some.

"I'd like to commission you. Make me a suit just like this one here. Fix a few things. Change the materials on the undershirt and skirt to silk." He ordered her.

Yuu agreed reluctantly. She was sure Vil would think her design was cheap and while looking fancy at first, its commodity won't last.

Still, Vil didn't let her slack on his suit and came in regularly to check on her. Almost everyday he came to watch her and advise her on styles. He even modeled a few things she was working on. Sometimes when she was having bad days he'd just sit with her until it was over. When he needed her, she'd rush over to the shoot to fix whatever the problem was. Sometimes the stylist on set just didn't get it right. They were quite the duo. It was clear from the nickname Vil gave her. Ube.

There were only three other girls in the dorm and they noticed Vil hanging around. Soon enough they were giggling amongst each other as they helped the seamstress with her work.

One girl in particular who had become Rook's little spy as of late made it no hint that the ball's theme had them going in pairs. She also made it no hint that Vil would be behind if he didn't find a partner.

"So tragic it is! Almost every girl is already taken and so are the guys." Belladona said throwing her hands up as she spoke.

"Is this you asking me to go with you." Vil had seen this tactic before.

"Of course not, Rook is taking me. You're so busy I doubt you realized that a certain girl hasn't been asked." Belladona was Yuu's closest female friend. After the dye incident, they began forming a friendship. All the girls loved the hardworking seamstress. They just didn't want her to miss out.

Vil got the message and berated himself for not thinking of this. Almost immediately he went to visit Yuu who had finished the last of her commissions just in time with a few days to spare.

"Vil! You're here! Look I'm finally done!"She showed off the finished lineup of outfits with pride.

Vil didn't looked happy though. He knew the owners of each of the set. He felt something missing.

"You're missing one" he said simply.

Yuu looked around for a second before shrugging.

"What do you mean? Yours is right here." She asked.

"I meant yours. You aren't going to make your own dress for the ball?" Vil asked knowing how much pride she had in her work.

"I didn't think I'd have time to. I had a design but with all the orders..." She fell silent "It's fine Vil, it's just a party. I'm happy to see everyone else shine."

"What good is it to say that? How can you see everyone else shine when you aren't even there." Vil has been annoyed by this women for too long.

"Vil?" Yuu asked feeling the temperature shift

"I am so sick of your self depreciating martyr complex! It's either, my work isn't good enough or putting everyone else before yourself. Can't you just admit that you are a talented person, that your hard work means something? Why can't you just see yourself like I do? Someone who's talented, beautiful, and caring. Why is that so hard?" Vil poured his heart. He didn't knownhe was holding this back. Every thought he had at the back of his mind was rushing out. "I'm sorry. It's just...I wish you'd care about yourself more. I want you to be happy."

Yuu knew Vil cared but she was dumbstruck at how much he cared. They had never put it into words.

"I'm sorry. I guess I never...thought you felt that way." Yuu said "I doubt I'll be able to go now anyways. I only have three days left to make one."

"Then allow me to help." Vil didn't know much of dress making but he had seen Yuu do it enough to get an idea.

Thankfully Belladona, Dory, and Aza came in to help as well. The dress was finished in record time.

Yuu loved it. I was better then she imagined.

"Well then, all it needs now is a suit to match." Vil said rolling the mannequin that wore his suit to stand next to it. "It looks best like this."

Jamil

Jamil knew it was cold but he was only going to be out for a few minutes before returning to his dorm. It was not that long a walk. Beside he had a jacket on.

"Jamil! Wait!" Yuu called out to him, her basket of yarn bouncing on her arm. "It's cold out!"

"I'll be fine." He said waving goodbye.

"No, don't. Put this on first!" Yuu wrapped a big scarf around Jamil's neck.

The chunky knitted scraf was only the beginning as a hat and mittens were added on. All he needed now was an obnoxiously cute knitted sweater to top off the look. Granted it was a rather comfortable scarf.

Still Yuu was a bit of a mother hen. Something fostered by being the tailor of the Pomefiore dorm. Having the fix clothes all the time.

Jamil had been a recipient of that treatment after getting a few rips and tears. One he got a rip in his PE uniform while dismounting his broom she immediately mended it with her unique magic.

He had seen her use it a few times to punish her rowdy friends by fusing their hands to walls or statues to keep them from moving.

Jamil didn't know whether to be thankful or annoyed by the mother hen. But time told that he began to rely on her help. After an incident involving a carnivorous plant in the greenhouse he managed to ruin his uniform jacket and didn't have time to fix it. He left it in her care.

"Don't worry I'll give it back to you before classes tomorrow." She said brightly before scurrying off like she always does.

Jamil couldn't believe what he got back the next day. It was his jacket but it was beautifully embroidered with gold.

"You didn't need to go that far." He said trying not to look bashful.

"Oh, I guess i can just cut out the thread." She responded a bit disappointed.

"Absolutely not! You made this for me! It mine!" Jamil yelled pulling the jacket on and keeping away from her.

"Aww, Jamil~ I knew you'd love it!" She cheered as she tired to hug him.

This was something special just for him. He doesn't like his things taken away. When others saw him in wearing it they were envious. So much envy that everyone wanted one. Embroidered uniforms were the new trend after all.

Actually, Jamil felt something vaugly familiar about this. He went to the trophy hall to check his suspensions. Inside a glass case was a uniform from a former student that was kept.

"Divya Khatri"

She was first place in many art competitions. Their were even a few pictures hanging in classrooms that were her's.

What Jamil was looking for was the similar style in the embroidery but now all he could see was the last name.

"Khatri"

I guess we all have something we want to live up to.

Ruggie

There is no such thing as wasted material. Every leftover scrap of cloth is useful.

Ruggie would often drop off old clothes he wanted tailored or recycled. Yuu didn't ask where he got it but she was able to make such cute outfits for the hyena. It saves money on material and they can dye the clothes however they want.

It was around Christmas when he asked Yuu to help make clothes tosent back home to his family. A few babies were born recently in the neighborhood and he wanted to send something.

Yuu agreed immediately and began knitting something for the children.

She might have gone too far because she ended up with a lot more clothes then she realized. She remembered that Ruggie's community is pretty big so a few extras for the bigger kids would be useful.

By the time Ruggie came to check on her she was working on something bigger. A quilt, you can't welcome a cub into the world without a quilt. It's something they need all their lives.

Ruggie had to pull her out of her sewing haze with a shake.

"I don't think you'll finish in time." Riggie said nuzzling her cheek.

Yuu pouted, a bit disappointed but understood.

"Don't be sad, why don't you come visit and we can work on it there." Ruggie chimed trying to maker her feel better. "I'm sure the kids would like to thank you in person."

"Really? I'll ask Divus and we'll go as soon as break starts!" With this she immediately started rexting her guardian.

"I've always wondered. Why do you call your dad by his first name?" Ruggie asked tilting his head makingnhis ear wiggle a little

"Divus isn't my dad. He just raised me after my my mom..." She didn't say the rest but you know the rest.

"It's okay, I understand. We have more in common then I thought. We orphans gotta stick together!" Ruggie said going back to nuzzling his giggly friend.

It's a good thing Divus didn't see that.

During the break Yuu spent time finishing the quilt with Ruggie's grandmother. Divius supervised the visit of course before they left to go home.

Malleus

Malleus liked watching Yuu work. Specifically watching her use the loom. It was calming to listen to the calming clacking of the wood knocking against the frame.

Even more he liked the spinning wheel when she was making yarn. The monotonous sound was calming and familiar.

"OW!" Yuu yelped as she pulled her hand way from the silver needle. A small drop of ruby blood fell staining the white yarn.

Immediately Malleus was at her side holding her injured hand.

"Are you feeling alright?" He asked "Do you feel faint?"

"I'm fine, I just need a band-aid. Rook will probably know any minute now and tattel to Vil again." Yuu sighed, she would be banned from the work shop until it heals.

Whatever compelled his sweet little lizard brain to lick the wound was beyond her. But it worked whatever it was supposed to do because the pin prick healed.

"Unhand her Roi du Dragon!"Rook shouted as he appeared out of the great blue yonder AGAIN!

Yuu isn't even surprised. He was doing it on purpose.

After that happened Yuu wanted to apologize for her vice warden's behavior AGAIN. She made him a embroidered handkerchief.

Mellues was very proud of his handkerchief and thanked her for it buy gifting her a pouch of jewels from his hoard. How thoughtful.

Only for him to come back with puppydog eyes with the scorched handkerchief in hand.

"I'm sorry, your precious gift was ruined." He was clearly upset.

"Don't worry, let me take a look at it." Yuu comforted him as she gently took the cloth.

It had a few singed holes in the fabric. Yuu made a 'tsk' sound as she examined.

"It was an accident." He said as if he asking for forgiveness.

"It's no problem. I could just fuse the fabric and re embroidery it or...I can just not" She said thoughtfully.

"Not?" Malleus asked.

"Well I can't unburn it. It's burnt. I can remake it but it won't be the same handkerchief I gave you. I can however stich around the holes and fuse it, preventing it from unraveling. With a bit of tlc I can make it better without distorting the original design." Yuu explained taking the cloth over to her desk.

Malleus agreed readily as he watched Yuu save his handkerchief.

Halfway through Divus called asking what she wanted for dinner.

"You are very close to the professor. Are you two related?" Malleus asked after she hung up.

"He's my guardian. Raised me since I was 4 and I learned everything I know from him and mom." Yuu answered.

"Oh, he's your father. I had no idea." The dragon said a bit surprised.

"No, not my dad. He was there for me when mom died. They dropped me off in front of his house when no one else could claim me. He was barely an adult back then, like 20." Yuu said in a clipped tone "He had enough to deal with without a kid being dropped in his lap. He probably sees me more as a sister then a daughter."

"Did he say that?" Mallues asked seeing the hurt in her eyes.

Yuu had spent her life blaming herself for Divus not being free.

'Of course not. I just assumed-" Yuu started but stoped "Let's just finish this first."

Crewel

Yuu rushed home that evening since it was the weekend. After greeting the dogs she cornered Divus in the kitchen wearing that dalmatian apron she had made him when she was 9. It had red ruffles and she made one for herself with pink ruffles to match. She had out grown it a long time ago.

"I'm home, Divus." She said peeking into the pot only to receive a slap on the hand with a spoon.

"Not yet pup, I don't want you sneaking bites before I'm finished." Crewel said sternly as he ordered her to help instead of being a nuisance.

Yuu got started on the salad like always as she huffed like a tired puppy.

"Did you have a good day at school?" Crewel asked checking on the potroast.

"Yeah, Malleus needed help fixing his handkerchief." Yuu said cutting up the lettuce.

"I'm not sure about you hanging around him. He's polite but he's still dangerous even if he doesn't mean to be." Divus was more worried about Yuu dating then the potentially dangerous dragon.

"Dad! Please don't, I can hang around boys and keep myself safe." Yuu whined.

Divus didn't say anything at first.

"Dad?"He whispered under his breath a smile creasing his lips.

"I meant Divus!" Yuu blushed.

Crewel turned down the heat on the burner before turning to face Yuu.

"Yuu, don't force yourself. You call whatever make you feel comfortable. I've been wanting to talk about this with you. I've raised you since you were little. You're as good as a daughter as one that was my flesh and blood. You're my little girl." Crewel said reaching over hugging.

"Thanks...dad." Yuu held back tears as she hugged him back.

Over dinner the two talked about the normal event of the day.

"Hey, dad? Can we talk about mom?" Yuu asked, he knew Divus never liked talking about her. It hurt him alot.

"She was my best friend. She was older then me when we went to NRC. She was brilliant artist too....."

Crewel talked on and on about his memories of Divya. He never mentioned how she died, he focused on her life. Sharing the good time just like she would have wanted.

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griffinsmith · 3 months

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decided to color in a doodle from a few months ago of devin beefing with her dad. devins dad is still angry about her leaving grizzleheim to learn storm magic while devin is mad at him for trying to force her into being a fire wizard. they do not see eye to eye!!!!!!!!!!!!

more awesome totally interesting devin and her dad lore under the cut

hi okay one time i mentioned that devin is the second oldest child of Gath Duskwraith, the wolf leader. Gath is very proud about his fire magic skills and even more proud that his oldest daughter, Freya, decided to follow in his legacy and become another wolf leader who specializes in fire.

As the second oldest, Devin's destiny was to also study fire magic and become the wolf pack's fire mage. She was to pour herself entirely learning into becoming a fire master and teaching the younger wolves in the pack how to master it themselves.

Dev very much had other plans. They butted heads with Gath as she became a young adult and Gath told her it was time to begin her fire studies. Dev was vocal about how she was a storm wizard at heart, and Gath saw this as her turning her back on ancient wolf pack traditions and did not take it well. everyone is having fun forever

After Gath became increasingly aggressive about Dev needing to change her mind and embrace the destiny he chose for her, Dev decided to high tail it out of grizzleheim with her bestie Iridian and off to ravenwood they went! Dev learned storm magic and was having an awesome time

until it was time to go back to mirkholm keep while doing all the grizzleheim quests. Confronting her father for the first time in over a year, and then having to fight him, was not as awesome.

When dev was still young, she and gath had a wonderful bond and she truly did love him, but ever since her fathers let a legacy dev didnt even want cloud his judgement of her, devs not so sure if she still does i love it when family is joyful and happy smiles forever

#devin griffinsmith #w101 #gath duskwraith #sawyuh art #im in a zoom meeting so the coloring was done via mouse . ow #wizard101 oc

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probablygoodrpgideas · 1 year

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For years we've had a running joke of a card game called "Magic the Yu-gath-i-o" existing in my setting but now the players have purchased the kapkat table camp fixture which lets you play a card game and we unanimously decided to reflavour it to Mty

To help me come up with npc decks on the spot I have written a programm that generates deck names like "King Chains D/D/D Traps Zoo"

#iconrpg

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orions-tears · 1 year

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The Champion - Sebastian Sallow [Part 1]

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Masc!Reader

A/N: This is a request I got and I wanted to make this a full tournament so here's part one. Idk how I feel about the way it reads tbh but if you like it I'm happy

The Great Hall was buzzing with activity when you walked in. You look around, confused, and see Sebastian and Ominis at the Slytherin table. You walk over and sit down next to them, leaning back on the table.

“What’s going on?”

Sebastian leans over the table, food in his mouth. “It’s almost time for the tournament.”

You stare at him and look at Ominis who continues eating.

“What tournament?”

Ominis laughs and shakes his head. “Sometimes we forget you haven’t been here that long. The tri-wizard tournament. The three schools compete for the tri-wizard cup.”

“Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and us!” says Sebastian, chiming in. “I’m excited. The French girls are gorgeous.”

Ominis rolls his eyes and you frown, harumphing and standing up. Sebastian looks up, confused at you reaction.

“Well, the Durmstrang students are handsome, if you’re into that,” he says, trying to fix the situation.

You scowl at him and walk away. He looks at Ominis and hits his arm with the back of his hand. “What’d I do?”

Ominis shrugs. Sebastian watches you walk out and sighs.

***

Imelda cheers as she tosses a slip of paper into the goblet. You walk into the entrance hall and see it. Blue flames engulf the cup, a ring of fire surrounding it. Sebastian walks up behind you and bumps your shoulder.

“You should put your name in,” he says, grinning. “I put mine in.”

You look back at him and bump him back. “What even is the tournament? I mean, what do you do?”

He shrugs. “No clue. We haven’t had it in about one hundred years.”

You turn back to the goblet and think for a moment. It would be kind of cool… You pull a piece of paper and a quill out of your back and write your name and school down. Walking up to the circle, you slowly step in and everyone in the hall cheers. You look back at Sebastian and he’s grinning, motioning for you to continue. You turn back to the goblet and drop the paper in, watching blue flames shoot up toward the ceiling. You step back and smile, watching the fire dance.

***

The Great Hall is filled to the brim with students from the three schools. You sit down with Sebastian and Ominis as Professor Black walks in. The goblet burns bright in the center of the room, illuminating the faces of the eager witches and wizards. As the room falls silent, the headmasters turns to the goblet, holding his hand up. The fire suddenly burns a deep red and a small piece of paper flies up, floating down into his hand. He looks at it for a moment and holds it up.

“The champion for Durmstrang! Petar Histrov!”

The men cheer as a large boy walks down to Professor Black, shaking his hand and heading to the end of the room. Professor Black turns back to the goblet. It repeats its steps, spitting another piece of paper into his hand.

“The champion for Beauxbaton! Giséle Bardot!”

The student clap as a beautiful blond woman makes her way to Professor Black, curtseying and walking to join Petar. Professor Black turns back to the goblet, ready to see the last champion. As the cup spits out one more paper, he grabs it, grinning.

“And for Hogwarts!” he shouts, holding the paper up. “(Y/N)!”

You feel Sebastian grab your shoulders and shakes you. The school erupts in cheers and you stand, staring at the headmaster. You make your way over to him and thank him.

“I trust you’ll win this for us,” he whispers to you.

You nod, smiling and make your way to join the other two champions as Black begins his speech.

***

As you stand in the tent, preparing for your first trial you watch the other two. They seem to know much more than you about what’s going on. They’re at least more confident than you. You rub your hands together and the minister of magic walks in, followed by the all of the professors, with a bag. He instructs the three of you to gather around and reach into the bag. Giséle reaches in and winces, pulling out a small green dragon.

“The Romanian Longhorn…” he says, smiling at her.

Petar reaches in and pulls out a small black dragon, watching it as it runs over his hand.

“The Hebridean Black,” he whispers.

Finally he holds the bag to you. You look at him and down at the bag, reaching in. You feel a sharp pain as if you touched a flame and pull out a dragon.

“The Hungarian Horntail,” he says solemnly. “These are your dragons. Each guards a golden egg contiaining the clue to your next trial. Get it how you please. Good luck, you three.”

***

By the time your turn comes, you can feel your palms sweating. The only dragon you’ve encountered was with Poppy and that wasn’t exactly thrilling. Professor Black summons you and you walk out into the circle. You look up and see the dragon on the rock wall. Merlin’s beard, it’s huge…

You can hear everyone cheering for you and swallow hard. You can do this. Suddenly, the dragon lunges at you and you roll out of the way just in time. You spot the egg in the center of the ring and run for it. The dragon blasts fire at you, causing you to jump behind a large rock. You turn around and look at the rock, looking around. That’s it!

You grab your wand and summon the boulder, tossing it at the dragon with ancient magic as it move to bite you. The crowd cheers and you make another run for the egg. Unfortunately, it recovers before you make it. You send a few basic casts at it, hiding again. After several moments of going back and forth with the dragon you step out, facing it. You look up and see Sebastian watching, gripping the rails of the bleachers tightly. You hold back a smile and look at the dragon. It pulls its head back to send a blast of fire your way, but you use ancient magic to bring down a bolt of lightening onto it, incapacitating it. You run and grab the egg, holding it up as the stadium erupts in cheers.

Tag list!

Let me know if you want to be added or removed! Also let me know if you want a specific fic or all :)

@blueberrydinosaur @kuukimeioo @sometimesidreamthaticanlevatate @thenerdysimp @sarahskywalker-amadala @lonadane @amatchasky

#hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow imagines #sebastian imagine #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt

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creature-wizard · 11 months

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Cisco Wheeler and Fritz Springmeier, who pushed ideas such as jewel programming and color programming (Svali clearly gets a lot of her ideas from them), are very much proponents of the "global satanic cult that wants to take over the world and install the Anti-Christ as ruler" brand of conspiracy theories. For Wheeler and Springmeier, this is the whole purpose of Project Monarch, an alleged CIA/Illuminati program that supposedly practices mind control by way of inducing DID into young children. (There's no evidence that it ever existed. By the way, there's info on how DID entered the Satanic Panic myth more generally over here.) Thus, Wheeler and Springmeier's assertion that people are intentionally inducing DID for the purpose of mind control cannot be separated from their conspiratorial apocalyptic Christian narrative.

Like everything else in the Satanic Panic, it's just repackaged witch hysteria and antisemitism intended to demonize anyone who wasn't the "right" kind of Christian, and scare those who were into remaining such. If you can understand why the witch trials of Europe and the various persecutions of Jews throughout history were bullshit, you can understand why this is bullshit, and you can understand why current attempts to rehabilitate the conspiracy theory by putting a "progressive" spin on it are also bullshit.

Their 1995 book, They Know Not What They Do: Illustrated Guide to Monarch Mind Control, makes a number of absurd claims.

It claims that the American eagle represents "the power of the air," IE, Satan, and:

Ancient Egypt's sexual magic is with us today. Their phoenix/eagle is placed on the items of various law enforcement groups, and reminds us that the government, the judicial system, and the military system have been seriously controlled by the Illuminati. (p. 11)

The eagle represents several important related occult concepts. First, the eagle was originally drawn for the great seal as a phoenix bird. The eagle has represented the Aryan Hittites and the Tribe of Dan. The phoenix is very highly significant within the occult world, as it represents the Anti-Christ system arising out of the chaos of wars, revolution and anarchy. (p. 13) It literally represents no such thing, outside the claims of conspiracy theorists like these people.

It claims Doctor Josef Mengele was brought over in Operation Paperclip, where he practiced trauma-based mind control under the auspices of the CIA/Project Monarch. The book also claims that he "was very skilled in creating trauma bonds between himself and children" and he was an adept in Kabbalistic magic. (p.15, 23) Supposedly, he wore a Nazi uniform while working with the children. (p.39)

Actually, Josef Mengele went to South America and died in Brazil. His work with the Nazis had nothing to do with psychology, and most of his "experiments" were little more than torture for the sake of torture. The man was an evil clown, not an evil genius.

It claims that the System (Wheeler) was "designed to be part of the Anti-Christ’s elite imperial guard for the enthronement of the Anti-Christ in 2000." (p.17)

The book claims that part of Wheeler's torture included being violently assaulted by chimpanzees. (p. 21) I know I've said it before, but if Wheeler had actually been attacked by chimpanzees, she wouldn't have survived to co-write this book.

The book claims that the Illuminati is perpetuating mind control through things such as fluoride, artificial sweeteners, electromagnetic frequencies, subliminal messages, and implants - basically, all the usual suspects in conservative conspiracism. (p. 31)

On page 43, it claims that "Vice-President Al Gore is a vampire and carries a briefcase of blood with him." It also claims that among members of the Illuminati, "The last steps are to literally become vampires. The victims of sacrifice secrete enzymes as they look in terror at their last few minutes of life. Drinking their blood gives a high." It also claims that:

The Illuminati would gather for banquets. The men would wear tuxes, white tuxes, and there would be fine linen and gold or silver utensils (sometimes gold, other times silver). You might think that with all this refinement that a real banquet would be served. What was served at these meals was cannibalistic. They would devour the entire person’s body. They might spare the left hand to hold a candle though. At other times, they used the fat and skin of some sacrifices for further uses.

This is simply repackaged blood libel, and relates to the QAnon belief that "the elite" sacrifice innocent children to drink their adrenochrome.

The book claims that the Illuminati practices "twinning." Note that this is somewhat different from what Svali claims - the book claims that "all the Illuminati twins we know of were programmed to die if their twins were deprogrammed or if their twin would die." It also asserts that, "Although the world is not ready to believe this, Monarch twins are given occult training to communicate telepathically. Anything that affects one of the twins, has the potential to affect the other twin." (p.45)

The book claims that religions other than Christianity are "false": Recently, on television a show portrayed a village of women who have sex with males and then sacrifice them. The show was portraying by accident or secret design the ritual practice of the Mothers ofDarkness. The false gods of Babylon, India and Egypt had false trinities. The Mothers of Darkness alters are on pedestals and they have been taught that they are goddesses. On each pedestal is a trinity of3 Mother alters who spin together.One alter is the maiden, one is the mother, and the other is the old crone. The old crone is the wise one which lurks in the background. (p.57)

Oh, and the Illuminati is big into Kabbalah, the book claims: Our programmers were adepts at Caballistic magic. (p.57)

The book claims that the following can occur if "the mind-controlled slave steps out of line": Auditory problems, Blood flow/circulation, Digestive failure, Headachcs-split brain, Heart failure, Histamine production, Optic problems, Respiratory failure, Sleep deprivation, Sleeping program, and Temperature change. (p.67) Random Symptoms are a sign of SRA now.

The book claims that Druidism "takes a person into demonology. It is not a benign worship of nature." It also claims that "Halloween has come to us from the Druids. Halloween is Satan's birthday, and the Jack-o-lanterns are for his birthday. The Jack-o-lanterns are in the picture because they represent Satan's birthday." (p. 73)

In the book, Wheeler claims that "there is a strong jewish flavor to the conspiracy." Wheeler also claims that her family "had a generational occult background that stretched for centuries back into antiquity." (p.83)

It also claims: David Carrico wrote an excellent book recently that does a survey of Satanic rituals today and shows that there is a one-to-one correspondence between SRA (Satanic Ritual Abuse) and the Egyptian Book of the Dead (Pert Em Hru). (p.92) I really hope I shouldn't have to elaborate on why "the Book of the Dead is about SRA, Actually" is complete bullshit.

The book claims that ancient Romans were satanists: Both Sun worship and Saturn worship are linked to Satan worship. Upon close examination Saturn and Sun worship are but fronts for Satan worship. The occult world knows this, but outside of the occult world it remains a secret to many. Rome was the City ofSaturn. Rome has been an important center for satanism and its mystery religions for many centuries. (p.97)

So yeah, this whole thing about cults intentionally giving people DID and stuff? Goes back to people like this. It's all a big shitty conspiracy meant to demonize anyone who wasn't a conservative Christian and scare anyone who already is one into remaining so. Don't try to rehabilitate this crap, because crap is literally all it is.

#sra #satanic ritual abuse #satanic panic #ritual abuse #antisemitism #cisco wheeler #fritz springmeier #conspiracy theories #conspiracism #conspiracy theory #project monarch #mind control

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wizzycore · 10 months

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Nonhuman Showdown Round 1

Why you should vote for each of them and full art below!

Kimberly Earthfriend (species: Deer/Fae, by @kimberly-earthfriend)

"Kimberly was born in the wilds of Avalon and learned some pretty nifty healing magic from the Fae and Froudlings that live there! They’re part deer, which I just think is neat. Also she enjoys violence in controlled environments only and participates in tournaments like the Spiral Cup and Immortal Games every year, sometimes even helping the younger wizards to train for these events too! She’s been my main wizard since 2011 and I love them very dearly <3"

Devin Griffinsmith (species: wolf (moonstrider guard), by @griffinsmith)

"She is the second oldest child of Gath Duskwraith and left home to pursue training to become the best storm magic user in Grizzleheim! Saving the spiral was not on their to-do list originally but they love going around the spiral with fellow Grizzleheim export, Iridian (the polar bear in the post linked above). Devin may not know whats going on a lot of the time but the spiral has never been in safer hands - we hope."

#w101 #nonhuman showdown

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kingofsummer93 · 1 year

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Ex Luna Scientia

Summary:

Lucien Vanserra, seventh son of the Minister for Magic, is as loved by his peers as he is hated by his family. But behind the charm and irreverence hides a secret, as dark and menacing as the scar on his face.

Elain Archeron, middle sister in a trio of muggle-born witches, has only one wish: for someone to truly see her. Because when she sleeps at night, she can see it all.

Or- an Elucien at Hogwarts AU.

Chapter 15: The Pensieve

Ao3 Masterlist

Elain hesitated in the corridor outside the headmaster’s office, staring at the stone gargoyle that guarded the moving spiral staircase. All the bravado she’d previously felt about her decision had vanished the moment she’d arrived here, and she’d been in a staring match with the gargoyle ever since.

A horrible thought occurred to Elain. What if the headmaster didn’t believe her? Her vision had shown the giants’ camp, but it hadn’t shown where it was. Elain was not a good liar, especially under stress. She’d fold like a house of cards if he started interrogating her.

This was a bad idea. It was a very, very bad idea. Suddenly the thought of going up those stairs and looking Professor Spell-Cleaver in the eye made her want to vomit.

“It ain’t going to move on its own, deary,” tutted a ghost as it drifted out the stone wall behind her. Elain jumped as if she’d been caught doing something illicit.

That was her other problem. She’d never been inside the headmaster’s office, and therefore had no idea how to actually get up there.

“Well? If you want to go up, I’d try a password, if I were you,” the ghost continued, floating down the corridor away from her.

“What’s the password?” Elain called to the pearlescent figure.

“The headmaster has a sweet tooth, you know!” the ghost replied before drifting up into the ceiling.

Elain returned her attention to the stone gargoyle. She could have sworn that its features had twisted slightly and that it was now smirking at her.

“Um. Chocolate frogs?” The stone gargoyle stared back at her, unmoving. “Cauldron Cakes?”

Elain glanced around the corridor, making sure nobody was watching her make a fool of herself.

“Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans? Fizzing Whizzbees?”

Elain gasped as the stone gargoyle finally moved. To her dismay, however, it only stretched out its ugly mouth into a yawn before settling back into what was definitely a smirk.

“You ugly piece of…” Elain caught herself. Making an enemy of the gargoyle was probably not in her best interest.

“Let’s see. Sugar Quills? Liquorice Wands? Um…treacle tart? Sticky toffee pudding?” She tilted her head, considering. “Sour patch kids?”

The look the gargoyle gave her was nothing short of scathing. Elain held up her hands. “Ok, ok, no muggle candy.” She resisted the urge to turn around and leave. She’d made up her mind and gathered enough courage to come here- she was either getting up those stairs or waiting here until Professor Spell-Cleaver came down for supper. “Acid pops. Fudge Flies. Blood flavoured lollipops. Cockroach Clusters.”

She trailed off as the gargoyle moved again. It stretched out its wings and stepped to the side, revealing an ornately carved wooden door.

“Actually? Cockroach Clusters?” Elain asked incredulously. The gargoyle lifted its shoulders in a shrug.

Elain quickly stepped to the door before its guardian decided to change its mind. Behind it curved a stone staircase, and as soon as she stepped onto the bottommost step it began to spiral upwards on its own. When she reached the top she was faced by a set of oaken double doors. To her surprise they lay slightly ajar, and she shuffled awkwardly for a moment, unsure how to announce herself.

“Professor Spell-Cleaver?” she called tentatively, poking her nose towards the crack in the doors. The headmaster’s office was silent.

Elain knocked on the door, feeling supremely foolish. What if she’d gone through all that indecision only for the headmaster to not be in his office? There was no way she’d gather up the strength to come back again. But then again, she couldn’t just wait here…

She was gazing back and forth between the door and the stairs behind her when a slight noise from inside made her freeze. It was a plaintive sound, almost like a whine. Elain pressed her ears to the gap in the doors, feeling more and more like she was intruding. She heard it again, louder this time. It sounded like a cry of pain, sharp and shrill, like an animal.

“Um. Professor?” Elain’s own voice had risen an octave, her palms going clammy. She should definitely leave and come back later, but…

She leaned closer still, trying to make out any noise from inside the office, when she lost her footing and stumbled into the door. It swung wide open, revealing the headmaster’s office.

“Oh, sorry!” Elain stuttered, heart racing. “I didn’t mean to, I-” She cut herself off as she realized the headmaster’s office was empty. Her shoulders slumped as she released a nervous breath. Maybe this was a sign that this was a bad idea. She must have imagined that strange noise.

She took a step towards the spiral stairs, which were now moving in the opposite direction, but stopped short when the shrill cry pierced the air again. Something about it tugged at Elain’s heartstrings, enough so that she took a tiny step inside the headmaster’s office.

It was a bright, circular room lined with high windows. Books filled the shelves from floor to ceiling, some so ancient that their spines were illegible. The headmaster’s desk, a massive slab of polished oak, was surrounded by paintings of the previous headmasters and headmistresses, half of whom were dozing in their frames while the other half peered at her curiously. Spindly little tables littered around the room, filled with metal objects and instruments the likes of which she had never seen before. Some spun on their own, others emitted puffs of smoke, and one particularly ominous object rattled ominously.

But what caught Elain’s interest the most was the model of the solar system floating in midair near the center of the room. It was made of what looked like solid gold, with intricate carvings and panels. As she approached it Elain noticed that the planets made a faint whirring and clicking noise as they rotated on their orbits. There was something vaguely familiar about it, and it wasn’t until she bent to examine one of the tiny moons around Jupiter that she realized. Lucien’s golden eye was carved the same way, and it made the same faint noise. Merlin knew she’d spent enough time staring at it to recognize it anywhere.

A ruffling noise made her jump, and she had to catch herself before she went toppling into the floating planets. She scanned the empty office, preparing to launch into excuses as to why she was there, and gasped in delight when she found the source of the noise.

It was a bird, as big as a peacock, balanced on a high perch near the door. Its plumage was vibrantly red, with a long tail tinged with yellow and gold that reached almost to the floor. A phoenix. As Elain gaped at it in delight it emitted that plaintive cry again, ruffling its feathers in what looked like distress. She rushed to its side, looking around the office in alarm.

“What’s the matter, love?”

The bird raised its head and fixed its onyx eyes on her, as if it understood her. There was something ancient and knowing in those eyes, and it made the hair rise on the back of her neck.

Elain reached out a hand tentatively, but the bird recoiled from her, shrinking into itself.

“Are you hurt?” She might have felt silly talking to any other pet, but something about the phoenix made her think he understood her. But there was no injury that Elain could see, and she glanced around the empty office, unsure what to do.

The bird kept shrinking in front of her eyes, and she gasped in alarm as smoke started drifting out of its striking plumage. The bird let out another weak cry, and before Elain could react it had lit up in a sudden, violent burst of flames.

She stumbled back from the blaze, heart racing in shock. Was this normal for phoenixes? She couldn’t think beyond the panic of not only getting caught snooping in the headmaster’s office, but of him finding her here with his pet on fire.

“Aguamenti!” she exclaimed, pointing her wand at the flaming bird. “Aguamenti, AGUAMENTI!”

A jet of clear, cool water shot from her wand, turning to steam as it hit the flames. But it was too late- the flames had receded as quickly as they had appeared, leaving behind a pile of steaming, soaked ash.

Elain’s heart was still racing as she stared at the bird’s remains, mouth hanging open in shock.

“Pity, isn’t it?” a deep voice tutted behind her.

Elain whirled and froze, mortified, as she spotted the headmaster, casually leaning against the oak double doors. How long had he been standing there?

“Professor!” she gasped. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude but your door was open, and…your bird! I tried to put it out, but…” She trailed off as she realized the headmaster was smiling faintly.

“You caught him on a bad day,” he said, strolling into the room. “He’s usually quite handsome.” The oak doors shut behind him silently. He was wearing robes of a vibrant saffron color, embellished at the cuffs and hem in intricate gold embroidery. On anyone else it might have looked garish, but on Professor Spell-Cleaver it made him look like a walking ray of sunshine.

“I’m so sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t know what to do, he just…burst into flames!”

The headmaster winced slightly, though his amber eyes sparkled with humor. Elain couldn’t understand it.

“I'm very sorry you had to witness that. I can see why that would have alarmed you.” He inclined his head towards the perch. “He’s not always this dramatic about it.”

Dramatic? He considered his pet going up in flames to be dramatic?

Elain turned back to the perch, but where previously there had only been a pile of sodden ash, there was now a tiny baby bird, covered in snow-white downy feathers. It opened and closed its beak, struggling to stretch its tiny wings.

“When phoenixes die they are reborn from their own ashes. As I said, pity you caught him at the end of the cycle.”

“Will he be alright?” Elain asked, extending a hand towards the bird. It snapped its little beak weakly, looking in her direction with unseeing eyes.

“Oh yes!” Professor Spell-Cleaver said cheerfully. “In a few days he should be back to his flamboyant self. You are free to come by and see him, if you like.”

Elain wrung her hands sheepishly, though the headmaster’s tone was still nothing but friendly. “I apologize for barging in, I didn’t mean to snoop…”

Helion shrugged, winking at her teasingly. “One shouldn’t leave their door open if they don’t want their offices snooped through. It’s my fault, really.”

Elain didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so she followed wordlessly as the headmaster crossed the room and took a seat behind the great oak desk. She couldn’t help another glance at the solar system as she walked by. The soft whirring and clicking of the planets was so familiar that it soothed her nerves slightly.

“Beautiful, if I do say so myself,” Helion said, noticing the direction of her gaze. “One of my favorite inventions.”

Elain blinked in surprise. “You made that?”

The headmaster smiled at her kindly, as if he knew exactly what it reminded her of. “I find there’s much to learn from the movement of the planets. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I met a centaur in the Forbidden Forest during the first trial who said something very similar,” Elain said, smiling at the memory of the snowy-haired centaur.

Helion’s eyes brightened. “Did you really? How delightful. Strange creatures, centaurs. They don’t usually like to approach humans.”

“He told me…” Elain felt herself flush at the absurdity of what she was about to say. “He told me the stars shone bright upon me.”

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze so piercing and searching that she squirmed. “That they do, Miss Archeron,” he said finally with a gentle smile.

Elain had to look away from that gaze. She stared over the headmaster’s shoulder, at the portraits of the former headmasters and headmistresses, most of which were not even pretending to be asleep as they listened in to their conversation.

The headmaster steepled his fingers and continued peering at her curiously, though not unkindly. “Though I do love the company, should I assume there’s a reason for your visit, Ms Archeron?”

Elain swallowed, her nerves returning full force. The headmaster indicated for her to take a seat, and as she sat she promptly stuck her hands underneath her legs to hide their trembling.

“I, um.” She cleared her throat, shuffling in her seat. “Speaking of centaurs and…strange powers. I don’t really know how to say this…”

Silence stretched on as Helion continued to smile at her encouragingly. Oh god, what was she doing here? She had a sudden urge to jump to her feet and bolt from the room. They’d find another way to let the headmaster know about the giants. She simply couldn’t do it, she couldn’t just blurt it out…

“Sometimes,” Helion started, interrupting her spiraling thoughts, “I find it can be easier to show than to tell.”

Elain stared at him, uncomprehending. Was he suggesting reading her mind? She knew about Legilimency, though she had never heard of anyone at Hogwarts having such powers. Though if anyone at the school would have mastered such an art it would have been Helion.

He smiled again, as if he had indeed read her mind. “If you’ll indulge an old man, I can show you what I mean.”

Elain couldn’t help a small laugh at his self-derision. The way Helion referred to himself made him seem like he was almost a century old, though to Elain he didn’t look older than forty. If she had to guess she’d say his real age was somewhere in between.

“Ok…” she said, tentatively.

Helion suddenly got to his feet and walked to one of the cabinets filled with strange objects that lined his walls. Elain looked with rising curiosity as he picked up a large stone basin and carried it back to his desk.

The basin looked ancient, perhaps as old as the tattered Sorting Hat that sat on a high shelf behind the headmaster’s desk. The rim was carved with ancient runes and symbols, and it was unlike any cauldron she’d ever seen.

“This,” the headmaster said, as if anticipating her question, “is a Pensieve.”

Elain peered into the basin curiously and was surprised to find that it was full of a swirling, silvery substance. It was somehow more solid than air, but less substantial than water. Around and around it swirled and reformed, as if stirred by an invisible hand.

“Professor? What is that…stuff?”

“Ahh. Those are my memories,” the headmaster replied, chuckling lightly.

“Your…” Elain looked deeper into the basin as images flashed within the swirling liquid, too quickly for her to decipher what they showed.

“Would you mind if I showed you one in particular?” Helion asked.

Even before she answered he had pressed the tip of his wand to his temple. As he pulled it away a long string of the silvery substance followed, before drifting down into the pensieve.

“Oh! Yes. I mean, of course, Professor.”

She wasn’t sure what he could possibly want to show her, but she much preferred this to having him look into her mind. Even if that was why she had come here in the first place.

The sliver of memory swirled and then settled, until murky shapes and colors appeared in the mist.

“After you.” He indicated the basin with a wave of his hand.

Elain looked deeper into the pensieve, feeling slightly foolish. “Um, Professor? I can’t see-“

Even as she said it she leaned in a little closer, until the swirling substance tickled her nose. And then the world lurched, and she was falling- falling through those swirls that were neither air nor liquid. She didn’t even have time to scream before her feet hit solid ground again, and she lurched to keep herself upright.

“Sorry, I think I lost my balance, I….” She trailed off as she glanced around her. She was not in Professor Spell-Cleaver’s office anymore.

The room was cavernous, so high that Elain could barely see where the walls ended and where the ceiling started. It looked like a library of sorts, but not the kind that she had ever seen before. All around her stood stacks upon stacks of shelves, all filled not with books, but with strange, silvery white orbs.

She barely had time to register where she was before Professor Spell-Cleaver appeared beside her, completely unruffled.

“Sorry about that,” he said jovially at the look on her face. “I should have warned you, the first time can be a bit disorienting.”

“Professor…where are we, exactly?”

“This,” he replied, gesturing to the room around him, “is the Hall of Prophecy. Or, more specifically, my memory of it.”

Elain felt her blood turn to ice. This couldn’t be a coincidence, but how could he know?

“Ahh,” the headmaster continued. “Here I am.”

Elain followed the direction of his gaze and gaped as another Professor Spell-Cleaver emerged from one of the rows of stacks. He looked slightly younger, with a bit less silver weaving through his dark hair, but otherwise looked much the same.

“I’m sorry, it seems I’ve once again gotten ahead of myself without proper explanation. You should really chide me next time.”

Elain suppressed a giggle, despite the strange circumstances. Trust Helion to make even a romp through his own memories seem normal. He started down the main passageway after the other Helion, and Elain followed suit, her head on a swivel between new and old Helion.

“The Hall of Prophecy is part of the department of Mysteries at the Ministry for Magic. It is, therefore, top-secret.” He said it cheerfully, though his warning was crystal clear. This wasn’t something she would be allowed to tell people about.

A mixture of dread and excitement sent her heart racing as she looked around the cavernous space and the orbs filling the shelves. Could they really all be…

“Professor?” she asked in a small voice. “What are those…” she gulped. “Those…orbs, on the shelves?”

He smiled kindly. “Those are prophecies, my dear.”

Her steps faltered, and he reached out a hand to steady her. “I had quite a similar reaction the first time I saw it. I can only imagine how you must feel.” His amber eyes were so piercing and full of knowledge that Elain couldn’t hold his gaze.

“Why did you want to show this to me? If it’s so secret, I mean?” How did you know? was the question she really wanted to ask, but she couldn’t seem to force her tongue to form the words.

Helion chuckled lightly. “Like I said, sometimes it’s easier to show than to say.”

She followed him silently as they followed the younger Helion deeper and deeper into the stacks. Elain didn’t dare ask anything else, not until she saw why he had brought her here.

There were no windows in the hall, the only light coming from those silvery orbs. The substance inside looked eerily similar to the memories inside the Pensieve- not quite liquid, not quite air, swirling like gas but glowing with an internal light.

Their steps were silent on the marble floor- it made sense, she guessed, considering they were nothing but ghosts here. As they passed, some of the orbs seemed to whisper at her, the noise like a buzzing, hissing sound that made her shiver. If this was a mere memory she couldn’t imagine how strange this place would feel in person.

“Professor?” she whispered. “Why are the…prophecies making that noise?”

Helion turned to her sharply. “What noise?”

Elain clamped her mouth shut and stared straight ahead. Thankfully Helion didn’t press her. The silence stretched on as they walked deeper and deeper into the endless stacks of prophecies. Just when Elain was about to ask what it was that the headmaster wanted to show her, his younger self turned down one of the many rows jutting out from the main aisle. She didn’t know how he could possibly know where he was going- there were no signs anywhere, no apparent order to the prophecies. There were only tiny metal plaques underneath each orb, some so old that the engravings on them were completely worn off.

But the younger headmaster seemed to know where he was going, and Elain and present-day Helion followed him silently. They walked so deep down the row that she started to feel claustrophobic, as if the weight of all those prophecies around her was pressing down on her.

The younger Helion came to a stop in front of a stretch of shelf that to Elain looked much the same as the rest.

“This,” the headmaster next to her said, making her jump, “is what I wanted to show you.”

Elain looked closer at the shelf, stepping so close to the memory of Helion that she shivered. But the headmaster didn’t so much as glance at her direction, as he continued to stare at the orbs in front of him. His mouth was set in a grim line, his eyebrows knitted together in apparent displeasure.

Elain turned to look at the orbs on the shelf, and couldn’t keep herself from gasping out loud. She backed away from the shelf as if she’d been burned.

The plaques underneath these orbs were recent enough that the writing underneath them was perfectly legible. They all indicated a date, as well as a single name.

Her name.

“What…How…” She whirled to face the headmaster standing silently behind her. He was perfectly still, staring at the shelf with the same displeasure as his younger self.

Elain turned back to the orbs, her mind reeling to comprehend what she was seeing. Dozens of orbs, all marked with a date and her name. Some were recent, others dated from when she was just a child.

But the thing that caught her attention was the spot directly in front of the younger Helion’s eyes. Where there should have been an orb was a blank space on the shelf, dated and marked with her name like the others. As if a prophecy had been taken.

“I think we’ve seen quite enough,” Helion murmured behind her.

Before Elain could protest she felt a gentle hand wrap around her elbow and tug her upwards. The world tilted again- up was down, down was up, like a hook had embedded itself in her navel was jerking up through the world.

And then the world righted itself, and she was back at Hogwarts, in the warmth of the Headmaster’s office. She jumped to her feet, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“What…” It came out more like a croak, and Elain made herself sit down and breathe. “What…”

Helion snapped his fingers, and a teapot and cups appeared on his desk. The casual grace with which the Headmaster performed magic would usually have impressed her, but she was too stunned to notice.

Helion poured her a cup and set it in front of her, and Elain gulped down the tea greedily. With every mouthful her nerves settled until her heart had settled back to a steady rhythm.

“The Hall of Prophecies contains every prophecy ever made by a Seer. It’s unknown how far back they go, but it’s a safe bet that the Hall has been there since the inception of the British Ministry for Magic.”

Elain’s stomach lurched, and she poured herself another cup with a shaking hand. When she had downed her second cup a pleasant numb started spreading through her. She didn’t know what sort of tonic was in the tea, and didn’t care.

“Its existence is a secret, as I already told you. Hence its presence in the Department of Mysteries.”

Elain had so many questions that she didn’t quite know where to begin. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet Helion’s gaze. “How did you know?” she whispered.

If the headmaster knew, then perhaps others knew as well. Including the person who had attacked her during the first trial.

The headmaster waved a hand, and a soft noise behind her intensified. It was the golden model of the solar system, except the planets weren’t turning gently as before. They were shifting, the intricate panels sliding and reforming as the floating planets spun through the air. Golden light was reflecting on the ceiling overhead, shapes and runes that she couldn’t make sense of.

“There are many who consider astrology to be nonsense. But the stars hold a certain knowledge that humans do not. Just like Seers hold knowledge and magic that normal wizards and witches do not. The two are intricately linked.”

Elain was struggling to keep up with what Helion was telling her. “How did you know that’s what I wanted to talk to you about?”

He shrugged, his eyes twinkling. “I didn’t. Call it a lucky guess, or intuition. But I figured it was time I told you. Keeping a secret like that can be isolating.”

Elain’s throat tightened at that.

“Mr Archeron,” he continued gently. “I hope you know you have my discretion, whatever it is you wished to tell me.”

She bit her lip to refrain from the torrent that she suddenly wanted to unleash on him. Kallias’s warning, the spells fired at her during the first Trial.

“In your memory. There was an orb…a prophecy missing.” She was stalling now, but she was also genuinely curious.

“Indeed,” Helion said, frowning. “I had heard whisperings that prophecies were being tampered with, and unfortunately it turned out to be true.”

“You mean…someone stole it?”

“Stole it, or perhaps took it thinking it belonged to them. You see, a prophecy can only be taken by the person whom it concerns, or the Seer it originated from.”

Elain gaped at him. “You mean…you mean to say that I might have seen something about…someone, and they could have gone into the Hall of Prophecy and taken it?”

Helion looked at her for a long beat, his expression now tense. “I’m afraid I think that’s exactly what happened.”

“But…why?”

“Why did you come to speak with me today?” he prompted. When she didn’t say anything, he leaned forward, piercing her with that all-knowing gaze. “Is it because you saw something that you felt I should know about?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“The kind of information that could be dangerous in the wrong hands?”

Elain stared at him in horror. “But…I can’t have…I would remember…” Wouldn’t she? Surely she would remember if she had seen something so potentially dangerous that someone would want to break into a top-secret vault to steal the information? “How do the visions come to you?” the headmaster asked gently.

“Dreams, mostly,” Elain mumbled, suddenly embarrassed. After so many years of keeping her powers secret it felt like an invasion to discuss them in such detail. “Although I’ve seen things in the crystal ball, too, but that’s different. Less defined, more hazy.”

“More up to interpretation,” Helion supplied.

“Yes.”

“And do you always remember all your dreams? Every night, every single one?”

Silence fell, broken only by the puffing and whirring of Helion’s strange metallic instruments, and by the discreet shuffling and coughing of the inhabitants of the paintings behind his desk.

“No,” she murmured. “I guess I don’t.” She felt like she was falling- like a pit was opening in front of her and she was teetering on the edge.

All her life she’d assumed her visions were mostly innocent- or at least, not valuable enough to risk sharing her secret. But this- the rows and rows of orbs, most of which she would never remember…

She felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to cry.

“I apologize. It seems I’ve given you more questions than answers. But if there’s anything else you’d like to share with me, I will always listen.”

Elain took a deep, shaky breath. She’d come this far, she might as well tell him the rest. “Professor? What do you know about giants?”

The headmaster froze, a slight widening of his amber eyes the only sign that he was at all surprised by what she said. “That’s a very vague question, Miss Archeron,” he replied carefully.

“It’s just- they’re supposed to be extinct in Britain, aren’t they? But, the other day, I thought I saw something in the crystal ball during Divination lesson. It looked like- well, I thought it was trolls at first, but I’m pretty sure it was giants. And…well, it looked like they were in the mountains near Hogsmeade….” The words rushed out of her in a torrent, and when she finished she realized how absurd it all sounded.

Something flashed through the headmaster’s gaze, a brief flash of something that looked suspiciously like fear. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a weary heaviness. The headmaster was silent for another long moment, and when he spoke it was in the same careful tone as before.

“I thought your visions through the crystal ball were very vague?”

Shit. “I mean, yes, but…sometimes I can still see…”

The headmaster lifted up a hand to silence her. “My apologies again. I am not doubting you. Your power is not one that is black and white. I simply wish to understand, so I can help you understand as well.”

Elain nodded mutely, feeling the weight of her white lie with every passing second she remained under his scrutinous gaze.

“To answer your question,” he continued. “Giants were gone, yes. For a long time.”

Elain started in shock. “They were? You mean…they’re back?”

“Whether they are back or passing through remains to be seen.”

“Does the Ministry know?”

Helion’s mouth pressed into a thin line of displeasure. “You do not need to worry about such things, Elain. I assure you the matter is being handled and that there is no threat to the school.”

“But-“

“Ms Archeron,” he cut her off, his tone still kind but firm. “I’m sorry that I am unable to answer your questions on this matter. If it’s any consolation, you have my word that as long as they remain within the grounds, my students will always be safe at Hogwarts.”

Something about the wording gave her pause. He was giving her that look again, the one that made her feel like she was being inspected by a searchlight with the power of a thousand suns.

“I really am sorry, Ms Archeron. You shouldn’t have to concern yourself with such matters. But I want you to know that you can always talk to me. Secrets are a heavy burden to bear. I would ask only one thing of you. I’m sure you will understand that everything we spoke of today is highly classified. That being said, if you must unburden yourself, do try to be selective with those you share it with.”

Elain gulped. The humor was back in his eyes, and though the warning was gentle it also left no room for argument.

She didn’t know what to make sense of it all. Of what that missing prophecy could mean, or who else might have learned about her powers. Or what those giants were doing near Hogwarts, and why Professor Spell-Cleaver didn’t seem that surprised by the news.

What she did know with sudden clarity was that she needed to find a way inside the Hall of Prophecy. And she knew just who could be reckless enough to help her.

But first, she’d have to make it through the second Trial in one piece.

#elucien #elucien fanfic #elucien fanfiction #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

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deckdeity · 1 year

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I am starting my collection again from scratch. I will be uploading all kinds of Magic The Gathering material.

•Memes, Art, etc.

•Booster Reveals, Booster Boxes, Singles (Draft, Set, Collectors)

•Selling Of Singles, Boosters, And Decks

•And Much More...

#magic the gathering #magic the gath #mtgdaily #mtgfx #mtg spoilers

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veilingofthesun · 22 days

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I had two magical evenings at GöteborgsOperan watching their production of Wicked.

* The whole experience was fantastic! Both seeing the musical and being a part of such an involved and excited audience. They were into it from the start and they kept it going all the way through. It was great to see and hear that. The whole audience rose and cheered straight after the final note/right at the start of the bows. It's not a common sight here... The theatre had encouraged people to wear green and a lot of people actually did. It was fun to be surrounded by so many people wearing green.

* The scenography, projections, lighting and costumes were beautiful and effectful. The combination of all those things created such a cool concept. It's really impressive.

* The ensemble was terrific. They all performed, danced and sang so well. They were a joy to watch.

* The orchestra deserves a mention too. I loved hearing Wicked with such a big orchestra. It was so powerful.

* Feline Andersson and Anna Salonen as Elphaba and Glinda are so well casted. They both really impressed me with their voices, talent, acting and their chemistry. They and their voices work so well together.

* I also got to see Marie Gathe as Elphaba one of the evenings. It was so much fun getting to see an understudy. She was amazing, she really impressed me.

It was well worth the wait!

#wicked #wicked the musical #wicked göteborgsoperan #emmas theatre thoughts

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seraphimsora · 2 months

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Eyes of Eden

Hey Guys ! Its Sora here, heh. I'm making a brief appearance to fulfill my promise to post the fanfic, just remember that English is not my native language so there must be a lot of grammatical errors, I apologize but I hope you have fun anyway. I'm happy that my friend is taking good care of you while I'm away, I promise to be more present, at least on my Sundays. Kisses and bye bye. A work made by fan for fan. I do not own rights to Typemoon, NasuVerse and the Fate works as a whole. "This is the story of a girl who bent the world to her will. A mage who earned her throne as the queen among mages." Chapter 1: The Beginning of End.

Day, afternoon and night, this is normally the division of time for people who walk unsuspectingly through the streets, their heads down in the face of the monotonous routine, never really looking at the skies, enjoying the breeze and truly living. People who could do whatever they want to be a difference, but continue to look ahead like horses wearing halters.

Even so, there is not only that, in this very gray world, there is the beauty of what stands out above everything else, usually poor artists and neglected young people, brilliant people with stifled dreams. All of these have hope in them, they laugh, they hug, they hit, these are worth watching.

A balance between good and bad people, the existence between good and evil and mainly true reasons why someone should have faith in these small and fragile selfish beings.

Yet I never thought that I would be the one to carry this faith, the last spark of hope for all those burned in the catastrophe at Chaldea.

I was just Olga's young ward, the daughter of the doctor and the genius, older sister of Marisbury's little experiment. I should be the last person who would carry this responsibility that was more of a burden than a blessing. Part of me wanted to believe that one day I would have a normal life, and the other knew that it was impossible with the amount of mysteries I had come into contact with, among all of them, there were the same visions that made me dream of that same catastrophe days before it occurred.

Gifts, curses, spells, magic, concepts that I was taught over the years, but that still didn't allow me to be ready for this moment;

12th century - England.

The smell of alcohol filled the air like a sickly and stuffy air freshener, if you stayed for a long time you would notice the strong smell of urine coming from the wooden pillars of the establishment. It was a tavern, modest but large enough to comfortably accommodate 30 people. Men laughed and drank with women on their laps or gambling their money like poor compulsive people.

In a corner, a hooded figure watched sitting on the solid wooden chair, his golden-hued eyes quickly fell to the glass of water he held in his hands. Her feline body was well hidden by the navy blue fabric, highlighting only the white hair that flowed down her shoulders and outlined her bust like waterfalls, that shade that looked very similar to the uniform beneath the disguise.

The woman's slender and young face, she didn't look older than 16, she listened not only to the music that beat in a happy rhythm, but also to the people around her, some even got excited and went to the middle of the floor to dance, It was fun for those mysterious golden eyes, a white and discreet smile came on the lips when a woman was pulled by her brother to join him in energetic steps.

It was possible to forget about her problems for a bit if she ignored that unbearable smell in the air, but the young woman knew that she couldn't and shouldn't, and this realization came along with the arrival of two more figures sneaking past the people in front of her.

However, when it came to wearing heavy and not at all discreet armor, it was difficult to sneak around without attracting attention.—Master, where are you?! — The figure with rustic armor covering even his face, just over 1.54, emerged from the tide of people who gathered on the dance floor, looking in the girl's direction. —- AH! There she is!

Behind this figure, followed a slightly taller young woman, wearing lighter but darker armor, her worried eyes looked at the people the more robust man bumped into, whispering sincere apologies.

Sighing, the one they turned to, she just lowered her hood, no longer seeing the need to try and be stealthy. Her hair was revealed to reach down to the middle of her back in wavy, platinum cascades like the color of snow, however it was still tied back in a ponytail, secured by a black bow.

—You came back, I thought you got lost. — She joked, finishing the glass of water and leaving it on the table in front of her.

—Were we following YOUR orders to look for information, while the pretty girl sat there? — The one with the horned helmet shouted from behind the mask.

—Sir Mordred, do you think I am beautiful? — She stood up past the two with a playful smile. — Don't worry, apparently, a drunk man talks more than a curious woman.

In disbelief at the quick action, the other girl who arrived late, looked scared as the girl walked past her towards the door. —Bia? Where are you going?

—Come with me, let's talk outside. — The young woman with golden eyes smiled, passing through the crowd of people until finally passing through the tavern door, followed by the two people. —King Henry IV, disappeared after the Grand Holy Grail emerged, his wife, Queen Catherine continues as ruler of the kingdom despite much opposition from the other land chiefs and vassals of the former king.

The girl with light pink hair held the shield and went after the knight and his master. —We heard two ladies comment on, there are rumors that there is a tribe of Saxons heading south ready to invade the villages, they conquered a good part of the coast with “demons”

— Anything different really turns into demons at this time. — Master said, looking at some children running from one side to the other. - However…. — taking a breath, she whistles with all her strength.

Mordred and Mash covered their ears for a few seconds, the three of them looking at the sky until a silhouette of a bird slowly approached. As the distance closed between them, the golden-eyed young lady extended her right arm covered in a leather glove, and the perfect sight of an eagle could be found landing on the offered limb.

-My lady. — The animal made a brief bow with its wings open.

—King Azrael. — She replied with a smile, her free hand scratching the top of the head of the one in her pose. — What did you find?

—An interesting number of monsters heading north, and some servants that don't seem like allies to me. — Closing its wings, the bird looked around. — Everything seems to follow a strange flow of mana, Lady.

—…I see…It seems that there will be no way, if we continue investigating on our own, it may take us a long time to discover the point of chaos in everything…let's head to the capital and try to have an audience with the queen. — She said looking over her shoulder at the two girls. — Is everything okay with you?

— Isn't our goal to find that fucking Grail? — The knight of betrayal crossed his arms. — Just find him.

— It's not just that… we need to correct whatever happened in this singularity… if, for example, it happened like that in that other world… — Thoughtfully, the young woman looked back at the eagle. — Azrael, I need you to call back Medusa and Arash…let's wait for them at the foot of the river to the north.

— Yes, my lady. — The bird spread its wings and flew towards another team.

As they walked towards the agreed point, the two girls and the knight lined up in a line. Biatrice, however, looked up at the saber-covered face, finding a suspicious glow of green behind the mask, as if she had just caught the gaze of the knight himself. Green eyes, thought the mage, showing a slight smile on her face, the young master turned forward, observing the path that stretched over rocks and gravel, the sound of the river current lightly sketching her existence along with the sound of fireflies flying from one side to the other. —May I know why you seem so happy? — The knight asked, raising his voice. — Did you miss a clown in my face?

Annoyed, the young woman closed her eyes for a second only to then turn to her sister. — Mash, tell Sir Mordred he has beautiful green eyes.

—…He's on your side-

—Oh, I can't see rude people, it's a rare condition that I must have developed along with my sense of dignity.

The knight now stared at his master's turned face without looking away for even a second, internally she felt her soul being burned by the man's anger. Mash sighed looking at Mordred, his face soon indicating hesitation for a few long seconds.

—Mordred a Bia-

—And also say, that the only attractive characteristic since his bad mood is so penumbral that it subdues the existence of any other qualities… you can even say that it gives confusion to those who notice, if they talk to a spoiled child or a grumpy old man , in his last days of life.

—Mordred… — A second of pause was necessary for him to completely think through the entire sentence and look again hesitantly at his teammate. —….Isn't that a little too cruel?

--There is ! Tell Master, Shield, that I didn't understand even half of what she said, because out of this witch's mouth comes only nonsense that smells like shit and has no meaning in being said to anyone. And if she really wants to offend me, let her step lower.

—-Oh! Tell Mordred, my dear sister, that there is no longer any existence under the bottom of the well, which is exactly where she is.

—But…you…are clearly hearing each other… — The young woman with lilac hair gradually backed away from the two figures. — Please stop this…

—What are you trying to insinuate, Maga? — Mordred stopped walking, placing himself in front of Biatrice.

—What do you think, Knight? — Crossing their arms under their chests, they both stared deeply at each other as if they were on the verge of falling into a bloodthirsty combat.

—Both of you stop! —- The younger girl jumped between them, quickly pushing them away with her hands. — We don't have time for that, sister!

Biatrice calmly blinked at her sister a few times and then looked at Saber, narrowing her eyes.

—I'll stop if he stops being so grumpy.

— “Grumpy”? I wouldn't be grumpy if YOU stopped making fun of me all the time!

—-I wasn't making fun, I just thought the color of his eyes was beautiful! — She replied with a more serene expression than a few seconds ago but with a higher tone of voice.

The knight froze for a few seconds. — … I … Tsc! Stop talking nonsense, master!

Turning his back, Mordred walked ahead, stomping as if he had just suffered a direct attack with pejorative arguments. Behind, Mash sighed deeply in relief at the calm of the situation.

—…What just happened here? — She questioned the youngest.

—… Hmmm… I'm starting to understand this person… — she smiled.

#fanfic #fate apocrypha #fate grand order #mordredxoc #my oc shit #my oc stuff #alternate universe #fantasy #fanfiction

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mask131 · 1 year

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Cold winter: Red Sonja

RED SONJA

Category: Marvel comics

We cannot talk of Conan the Barbarian without talking of his female counterpart and “rival”, the famous Red Sonja, the She-Devil with a Sword, who became THE iconic picture of the fantasy archetype of the “barbarian woman”.

Red Sonja was created by Roy Thomas and Barry Windsor-Smith in 1973, first appearing in the Marvel’s comic of “Conan the Barbarian” before getting her own comic in 1975 – though she still appeared in other affiliated comic book series, from various Conan series to the Kull ones. Marvel stopped publishing Red Sonja stories in 1995 – but she was promptly picked up by the Dynamite Comics in 2005, leading to several new series, at first keeping Marvel’s continuity before rebooting the character several times and going into various spin-off. And, of course, we have to mention other medias – such as the Red Sonja novel series written in the 80s, her apparition in the “Conan the Barbarian” television series, and a few movies done about her from the 80s to the 2000s (and with more supposedly in production).

Red Sonja lived in the Hyborian Age, a mythical long-distant past of our Earth, before the beginning of recorded history but after the fall of Atlantis. She once lived peacefully with her family in a small house on the steppes of Hyrkania – until one day a group of mercenaries came. Her entire family was killed by the vile men – her parents and brothers –, her house was burned down and she only survived because the men wanted to take her virginity. After being raped and left in front of the corpses and burning ashes of her ancient life, she cried for revenge, and her scream of rage was heard… Scathach, the Red Goddess, appeared to Sonja and gave her unmatched fighting skills, making her a fearsome and dreaded warrior… But upon one condition: that she will never have sex with a man, unless said man manages to defeat her into a fair combat.

Thus begins the adventures of Red Sonja, the She-Devil deadly with a sword (she carries a double-edged sword, but also has a small dagger if she needs it) and whose immense strength makes her able to outmatch men in wrestling or hand-to-hand combat. She travels through the lands of the Hyborian Age, slashing, beating, stabbing any kind of monster, beast or antagonist trying to prevent her adventures ; herself seemingly never carrying any scar from her various wounds. The only other thing she loves more than fighting is drinking (even though when drunk she gets even more unstable and violent than she already is), and one of her weaknesses is her near incapacity at learning how to write or read. She spends her time fighting corrupted men, defending innocents, making those that offend her pay dearly or being hired as a mercenary; she also has a recurring villainous antagonist, in the form of the evil sorcerer Kulan Gath. She even became Queen of Hyrkania at some point (to match Conan’s ascension to royalty).

Red Sonja can be recognized by various iconic elements. Her mane of red hair. Her double-edged sword (which the novels turned into her father’s old weapon, and that ended up gaining magical properties after killing so many men, sorcerers and demons). And… by her chainmail bikini. We need to talk about the chainmail bikini.

Red Sonja’s most iconic look is a bikini made of chainmail. Everybody heard about the “chainmail bikini”, and she made this look very popular in fantasy. It actually existed before – it was typical of female fantasy heroines to wear them in the 70s, but Red Sonja definitively took it to another level. She actually wore a more reasonable outfit in her first appearances, with a long-sleeved chainmail shirt, and short red pants – but the chainmail bikini look stuck to her. And… this is both what made Red Sonja iconic, and one of the culmination of Red Sonja’s criticism. Red Sonja, we cannot miss it, is a sexualized character, the very embodiment of the “sexy warrior” trope done… weirdly. Her “bikini-armor” is ridiculous, dangerous, unpractical, and is barely excused by her inhuman abilities. In fact, for a fierce and strong warrior she lacks any kind of “battling body”, being tall and slender with barely any trace of muscle. Because a female warrior has to be a sexy and beautiful warrior, that’s the rule of the 70s and 80s. And let’s not even talk about how her entire life and character is influenced by sexuality, from her “rape as backstory” to her specific weakness tied to sexual relationships… There is clearly a “woman-object” aspect here. BUT, and this is where things get important, Red Sonja is also, surprisingly, a feminist icon. Because she is precisely a fierce, strong and terrifying female warrior who equals or outmatches other men (and even defeated Conan a few times). She is as brutal, and drunk, and crass as other barbarians can be (despite her always looking like a super-model). She is a free, independent and wild figure of revenge and justice managing to get to the top in an ancient patriarchal world… Which results in a very strange, double-edged, ambiguous status of the character, both praised and dislike for how she was created. This notably led to several writers trying to come up with justifications, explanations or reflections about the “chainmail bikini”, and trying to apply some logic behind simple sex-appeal. For example in one version, Red Sonja deliberately wears this outfit to “distract” men with her beauty while she cuts their head off, using their own lust and misogynistic vision of women to make herself look less threatening and fearful – they probably can’t imagine that a sexy woman wearing nearly nothing can stab them in the heart or kick their head off. Another version rather insisted on Sonja wearing barely anything so that her immense agility couldn’t be hindered by a heavier armor. A third version even decided to have Red Sonja herself complain about the unpracticality of the bikini outfit – but despite recognizing its flaws and problems, refusing to let go of it, because with time she grew attached to it and cannot imagine herself going to battle dressed differently.

- - - - -

The actual origins of Red Sonja are quite interesting… Yes, she was invented by Robert E. Howard, the same man who created Conan. But, the original character of Howard had very little to do with the character as formed by Marvel. Most notably, Howard’s Sonja, named “Red Sonya of Rogatino”, was a female swashbuckler of the 16th century Europe. Her appearance story, “The Shadow of the Vulture”, was about the siege of Vienna by the Ottoman armies in 1529. It was Marvel’s own decision to turn her into a barbarian warrior, and to move her to the fabled “Hyborian Age” of Conan, not just to surf on Conan’s big popularity at the time but also to allow various team-ups between the two characters.

That being said, the character as established by Marvel itself has been prone to various changes throughout her various incarnations and reincarnations (because yes, the topic of reincarnation is often used to explain how one version of Red Sonja dies before another pops up). For example, some writers decided that she was never raped by the mercenaries, and never received a ban on sexuality from her goddess, and in turn became a true pansexual – and I insist. She isn’t just bisexual – she is also willing to get into bed with gods, spirits and supernatural entities. Other writers also decided to get rid of her superhuman abilities and supernatural status by removing the whole “Blessed by the goddess” aspect, and rather depicting her as a woman that trained hard all of her life and became the strongest woman of her land and age. Some series add to her immense strength, swordmastery and agility the divine power to wield any weapons – which means she can turn any object into a deadly battle artefact.

#cold winter #red sonja #female barbarian #hyborian age

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justkending · 2 years

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Everest. Chapter 17.

Series Summary: She was done and retired. After Thanos and after the battle of a lifetime, she had called it quits and had distanced herself from the Avenger lifestyle. But word finds her that someone from her past is in danger. What the journey entails was never one she wanted to face nor one she saw becoming her reality again. The rollercoaster that comes with fighting evil odds arrives on her doorstep not leaving much room for a no…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2700+

A/N: Ok friends... This is the LAST chapter. I know it’s semi-without warning, but even I wasn’t sure if this would be the last one until I wrote it. There is much more to this story in my DR, but I felt it was best left here. Who knows? Maybe a second series of it may come up. Could not tell you at the moment haha! But I will be writing an Epilogue when I have the time and mental capacity for it. School is about to start back up for me, so excuse the fact I may be quiet this next month or so. First real year of teaching is coming and I’m slightly terrified😂. Either way! I love you all and thank you for the support on this series. xoxox

Chapter 17:

Having to take transportation outside of Stark technology proved that Bucky had become spoiled with convenience and shorter travel times.

There were two flight changes, three bus rides, a cab ride, and a 10-mile walk to Y/N's cottage outside the city parameters.

Luckily, he packed light and had better endurance than most who would attempt the journey.

As he arrived at the same field where he had first met Y/N, he had to stop and admire the beauty of it once again. He forgot just how stunning and dreamlike the place was. Perhaps it felt like a dream to him because he had never imagined a life like this for himself beyond his daydreams.

He stared at the small cottage off in the distance and the stained-glass greenhouse south of the house. He could hear the clucks and quacks of farm birds as they wandered freely.

The sky was a bright blue, lightly dusted with clouds as the sun was setting in about an hour. He squinted some at the sun coming out from behind a cloud and looked toward the front door of her home as he approached in the distance.

It was closed. There wasn't any sign of Ryker or her so far. Yet again, he remembered her saying she liked to forage and venture the land in her spare time if she wasn't gardening, reading, or taking on a new project.

Slowly making his way to the cottage, he continued to analyze his surroundings. It was quiet. But not have-your-guard-up kind of quiet. No, it was the exact opposite.

It was peaceful. He knew that in her time there, she had never had anyone infiltrate the peace besides their surprise visit. So a piece of him knew that they were safe here. At least as safe as it can get in this world. He continued to scan the area, hoping to see the homeowner, but there was no sign of human life anywhere. Only farm animals.

Speaking of...

In the distance, he heard a horse neigh followed by a low moo. Had she upped her number of pets?

Deciding his best chance to find his answer was to venture closer to the house and hopefully find someone to ask his question to.

"Y/N?" he questioned, approaching the door, seeing that most of the windows in her house were open. Some panes shared a peek at the curtains inside as they blew out when a light breeze filled the home.

He knocked, but no response. Instead, the door opened, showing it was unlocked and unlatched. He knew he shouldn't be worried, but the habit of the job kicked in, and he started considering the troubles that could arise.

He remembered what she was capable of and how she had kept this part of her life safe from the outside world. She knew magic in ways Bucky's mind couldn't fathom, and the likelihood of someone finding her out here, if she didn't want them to, was close to none unless you happened to be a neurosurgeon/ wizard.

She had to be out and about. It was a lot of land from what Bucky had gathered.

Now, the next question was, should he go in or wait on the porch step? He was going to go for the latter decision, but he heard a high-pitched whistle. One that was piercing and angry as it screamed.

He crossed the threshold into the kitchen to see the noise maker. A tea kettle was left on low heat but whistled to show its contents were boiling.

That shouldn't worry him, right?

He turned it off before deciding to investigate further and quietly went to the living room. In the corner, the sounds of a song he recognized danced with the warm breeze coming from one window and flowing to the opposite. A vinyl was spinning on an old vintage record player in the corner. The piece of equipment was in mint condition for its age. All the detailing and added antique features made it a perfect set.

He never got to take a look at the place the first time he came. I mean, to an extent, he analyzed the hell of it, as a spy does when entering a new place, but he didn't know the person living in it to match every detail to then.

Now, the hanging plants and herbs from the ceiling made sense. The mixed-match furniture and warm, soft colors added up. The environment that she had created overall was something similar to the feeling of being in the arms of someone you trust to keep you safe and protected. The feeling of entering a warm, fire-lit coffee shop where you could sit and read for hours, knowing somehow that nothing bad could happen while you were there. The entire house emanated a sense of calm, security, positive energy, and serenity for every visitor who entered.

He walked around the open space and looked at the antiques and pictures that lined the bookshelf that took up the entirety of the wall.

Pictures of her and Marley were on the mantel. Pictures of her and the team outside of the compound, enjoying normal life, were scattered here and there. One with her and Wanda jumping into a lake with Nat and Steve already in the water below. Another with Steve asleep on a plane and Nat pointing at him with a silly face gracing her features. There was even one that looked to be taken in the mid-1900s, where she was accepting an honor from someone at a university. The eras and casualties of the pictures fluctuated.

He was so zoned in on the details that fed more information about the woman he had gotten to know that his guard fell. The space made it easy to do so.

"Do you normally just wander into little farms in the countryside of Europe?"

The voice shocked him out of his hyper-focus, and he jumped slightly, turning fast.

"I'm getting good at this, scaring the Super Soldier thing," she grinned, leaning against the banister between her living room and kitchen.

"Probably the only person I'll allow to get decent at said thing," he had to chuckle, turning to look at her on the other side of the room.

"Don't worry. Sam will always try," she winked, standing straight and walking down the two steps into her main room, and coming around the couch that sat between them. She wore a ruffled skirt with what looked like layers of lace and a brown tank top covered in a knitted cropped sweater. Her feet were bare, but he noticed a simple golden anklet around her ankle that matched the gold accent jewelry littering her hands and neck.

(Ignore the shoes and most of the jewelry)

"Seemed to find the place easy enough," she nodded to his shoulder where his backpack stayed secure on one side.

"Photographic memory," he tapped his temple, shrugging the bag on as a nervous tick.

"Ah," she nodded, crossing her arms over her chest now in front of him. "Blessings and a curse."

He nodded with a tight grin, showing he knew what she meant. Before Bucky could ask any of the multitude of questions he had lined up for her, he heard a faint bark in the distance.

"Oh, God. The poor guy is still adapting to the new friends," she rolled her eyes and twisted her gaze to the back mudroom he had entered past the kitchen. "Wanna meet 'em?"

"Friends?" Bucky asked, confused, following her stare.

She laughed and motioned for him to follow her, telling him to leave his backpack on one of the chairs.

When turning out the mud room door, there was a beautiful white horse colored with variations of shades in brown spots in a way he had never seen before. It was tied to a post hidden behind some floral bushes.

"Meet Zazu," she announced, walking over to pet the snout of the large animal.

Bucky smiled up at the tall animal and chuckled some. Ryker gave an excited bark at the old friend and jumped on Bucky before Y/N could reprimand him. He followed her command quickly after but stayed close to Bucky's side as they looked over the new pet.

"Zazu?" Bucky looked at her with a smirk as the horse snorted in response to his name.

"Someone I know may or may not have been my reasoning for the name," she shrugged.

Bucky nodded with a smile, knowing exactly who she was talking about. He never had horses in Wakanda. His livestock mainly stayed with goats and sheep, but the horse seemed friendly and well-mannered. But it showed its attitude when it shook his head, whipping his mane to slightly hit Y/N.

"Ok, ok," she responded with a laugh. "You're free for the rest of the night. Don't get into any trouble without me." She took the reins off the horse, and he walked freely out into the pasture to graze where Bucky noticed a cow and a calf grazing already.

She turned back to him and brushed her hands off the dirt. "Well, I know you're not here just to watch me talk to my pets and sneak around my house," she sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "We can go back inside and get the fun stuff sorted."

Bucky nodded and followed behind her as she made her way back to the cottage. Coming into the kitchen, she noticed the tea kettle was hot but not burning.

"You left it on, so I turned it off," he pointed to the pale green floral-painted kettle.

"I'll be honest with you, I forgot I left it on. I was out getting the new cow and calf in the field over. They had wondered further than I'd like," she mentioned. "Luckily, I have a spell on the place that keeps it from natural disasters. Self-made ones included," she hummed before moving through the kitchen, much like last time.

She went to get mugs, grabbed a few tea bags, stopped at the fridge to get creamer, and poured both of them a cup. At the same time, Ryker found his spot on his bed by the island in the center of the room and laid down, quickly dozing off.

Once they both had a mug in hand, it went silent beside the record, still softly playing in the background. Y/N broke the silence as she stirred the contents of her tea for the fifth time.

"I'm sorry." He looked at her, confused. "The fight we had that day I left the compound," she explained, looking up from her steaming tea. "I-I wasn't leaving to hurt anyone..."

"I know that wasn't the case," Bucky affirmed.

"Yes, but I still feel awful about it," she sighed, placing the mug on top of the terracotta tiled island.

Bucky moved from the opposite end he was standing by and came to where only the corner of the counter separated them.

"I get it now. I mean, it stung, but I get it," he bent his head like he had that night to see her eyes better. "I don't hold any anger about it anymore. Hell, I don't think I ever really did."

"Disappointment hurts more than anger sometimes," she mumbled, scrunching her nose at the feelings she knew he had actually felt at the time. She read them as easily as he showed them.

"Maybe, but after it all, I don't hold any of those emotions still. You were doing what you felt was best, and who am I to determine if they're right or wrong choices?" he shrugged, leaning against the counter in a relaxed manner.

"Everyone is entitled to their opinion on something. That's the thing about opinions; they aren't right or wrong," she tilted her head back and forth as if weighing her words. "Either way, you were a kind and loyal friend to me when I was there, and it wasn't right to keep you in the dark when I knew I could trust you."

Those last four words hit him harder than she likely meant. But the look in her eyes showed she had said it for a reason.

"Although it's not necessary, apology accepted," Bucky replied with a soft smile, and she returned it. "I do have one question, though." She hummed for him to continue as she sipped her tea, feeling better about it all now due to his genuine response. "If you left so much earlier than we did, how come we showed up first?" he asked.

She looked at him and bit the inside of her cheek.

"I came home to get ready to go, and on the flight here, when I was reading the research, I realized some inconsistencies with Stark's plans. It didn't take me long to figure out his true intent of finding the serum. I had to rewire everything in my strategy on how to attack the facility. And I hadn't planned on Anthony being stupid enough to jump on the case as fast as he did," she answered, leaning on the counter with her hip and crossing her arms over her chest as she looked at the ground. "He was anxious to get in and do what he thought needed to be done, but he was missing key details he didn't realize that I had. Like what the facility actually was before busting in, guns blazin' with a plan that was as beneficial as using Raid on Loki."

Bucky took in the information and didn't have to second guess it all. It made sense. Tony hadn't been prepared for anything they had actually gone up against, and Y/N seemed to get through the facility like it was a maze she had maneuvered through a hundred times before.

"I almost told you," she mumbled. Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, turning his gaze back to her. "That morning in the kitchen, you were trying to convince me to stay. I was seconds from telling you everything." She let out a bitter laugh. "Never in my life have I had someone-." There was a pause as she collected my thoughts. "There's a type of comfort and trust I have with you, Barnes, that I don't think I've experienced with many people in a long while. I mean, of course, I love the team, and they all have a piece of me like that, but I was surprised how easily and effortlessly I found it with you as well."

He wanted to ask what she meant, but she continued before he could.

"I know you struggle seeing it in yourself, but you are a good man, Bucky Barnes. It takes a kind soul for me to find that kind of trust in, and even with the hell you've endured, you've managed never to let that piece of you die."

Why? Why was she telling him all this?

"You deserve to know and hear these words, Buck. Every day for the rest of your life, you deserve to know that you never let anyone truly break you, even if it felt the opposite more times than not," she smiled, placing a hand on his arm and a spark of appreciation and admiration filled his body.

"Y/N," he started, and she shook her head.

"Someone needed to say it and make sure you believe it. I needed to make sure you believed it," she squeezed his arm before pulling her hand back, and he'd be lying to himself if he wished she'd keep it there forever. "Anyway, you came here with a message," she adjusted her stance and changed to business mode. "What did Banner find out?"

How she could go from making his insides melt and close to bringing honest tears to his eyes after such a kind compliment to back to the business, he wasn't sure, but he would make sure to revisit it when given the chance. Something in her eyes told him she needed to move on for a second anyway.

Bucky cleared his throat and opened the pocket of his jacket. He pulled out the index card Bruce had given him inside a hidden pocket before gently offering it to her.

She took it and saw the side that had a grocery list written down. She laughed lightly at it and turned it over before walking toward the living room. Bucky followed behind her a few steps as she looked over the paper.

"Makes sense," she nodded, going over the foreign language as Bucky had read it. He knew he'd need a doctorate and possibly a second brain to decode the content of numbers mixed with letters and symbols. "Ok. Done and done."

She walked up to the fireplace and waved a hand over it, making a decent-sized fire erupt within the bricked chamber. In the next second, she threw the paper into the fire and brushed her hands off. As she looked back at him, she saw his face struck with concern at the paper being gone without any form of return for it.

"You're not the only one here with a photographic memory, Sarge," she winked.

Made sense. "Blessing and a curse," he replied with a grin.

"Exactly," she laughed, looking at the flames and then back at him. "Sorry you came all this way to watch me burn a grocery list, but it was honestly the only way to keep that information safe."

"Can I ask another question?" he cleared his throat. "Why me? Why not Nat or Steve? Or Wanda even?"

"Um," she dragged out. "I reached out to everyone after coming home. We had some good long talks about my leaving and such. But I don't know... I felt like I owed you an apology in person. They've known me long enough to understand my reasoning, but you? Call it an itch I can't seem to scratch..."

He smiled. Something about it made him feel special in a way he hadn't in a long time. And he felt the same way about the itch. Something about the woman in front of her kept him coming back for more.

"And correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought you could use a break from the Hero Life. No matter how good you are at it," she smiled, looking at the fire instead of him. "Everyone needs to time away to make a venture of their own." He smiled at that and looked around. "Are you wanting to head back now that your mission is done?" she asked, looking back at him, moving to throw a log into the fire even if her magic could likely suffice for a while on its own.

"I mean, I suppose I should," he responded, semi-disappointed.

"Have another job after this one?"

"Not that I know of."

"Then I don't see why you can't take a short little tour of the place. I can show you the new farm animals and the lay of the land... Only if you're interested, of course," she was quick to follow up with.

He didn't really need to think about it. "A tour would be nice," he smiled after a second.

The two made eye contact once again. She grinned up at him, and he could see the joy on her face from his answer.

"Follow me then."

THERE WILL BE AN EPILOGUE:)

Everest Tags: (if I missed you in tags, comment on this chapter to let me know:)

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