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uncannyarchive · 2 years

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The Love Witch (2016), dir. Anna Biller

#the love witch #anna biller #aesthetic #horror #horror films #comedy horror #aesthetic horror #halloween films #halloween month #witchy horror #witchy films

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daily-spooky · 1 month

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#funny #lol #haha #humor #meme #memes #dank memes #plushies #stuffed animals #animals #cats #pale #grunge #goth #horror #bats #witchcore #witchblr #witch #witchy

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blumencia · 9 months

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skylerorsky · 9 months

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A Story I'm making

So I'm making a story and this is how it is so far it might change later though:

A maiden with locks of red did recline upon her resting place within her chamber, clad in her night attire. Though the sun had ascended to the sky, slumber still graced her form.

"Constance," a voice, low and unfamiliar, did utter. "Constance," the voice did sound again. Now roused, her eyes of hazel did swiftly unseal, yet no other presence did her sight perceive but herself and a raven, perched upon the sill.

Striving to shoo away the raven yielded no success, prompting her to rise and attire herself in garments meant for daylight. With a final glance toward the raven, she departed the chamber, her siblings already begun upon their day's tasks.

Constance descended the stairs, her parents' gazes met hers, laden with inquiry regarding the lateness of her slumber. She perceived their silent interrogation. Reluctant was she to speak a falsehood, yet she yielded to the temptation, knowing deceit to be a transgression. "I was ailing, and thus I tarried in sleep's embrace," she uttered, though in her heart she knew the tale to be untrue. "Forgive me for not beseeching your consent beforehand."

In truth, her nocturnal pursuits had drawn her into the bosom of the woods, driven by an unwavering curiosity that characterized her tender years. Alas, innocence outshone wisdom, leading her to venturesome endeavors amidst the woodland's shadows.

Her parents exchanged a knowing glance before her mother, a woman of gentle demeanor, spoke. "Dear Constance," she began, her tone soft but tinged with concern, "thy health is dear to us. 'Tis well that thee found rest, though we hope thy ailment does not persist."

Her father, a man of wisdom acquired through the passage of years, added with a measured nod, "A goodly night's sleep hath its virtues, yet perchance seek the counsel of thy mother or myself should such ailment recur. We are here to provide care and guidance, as parents ought."

And so, the parents' words carried the warmth of parental concern, unaware of Constance's true nocturnal escapades amidst the mysterious woods.

Constance did incline her head courteously to the thought, though words of her own did not readily pass her lips. Instead, she did take her leave of her progenitors, exiting the dwelling to unite with her kin in the yard, where they did await her presence to aid them in their day's labors.

After the fullness of their daily toil, Constance and her siblings found themselves drawn unto a patch of green beneath the fond embrace of a venerated oak. The sun's descent did tint the heavens with hues of amber and crimson, bestowing a placid luminescence upon the landscape.

Seated in a circle upon the verdurous tapestry, they partook in the rites of camaraderie known to kin alone. Laughter, tales, and the sharing of visions became one with the soft rustling of leaves and the gentle sighs of zephyrs.

As twilight spread its duskened wings, the embers of a small fire did kindle, a meeting ground wherein stories found voice. They exchanged chronicles of eras long past, of realms remote and marvels distant. Each narrative bore the spark of fancy, enkindling an enchantment mutual and transcendent of the mundane sphere.

Beneath the starry arras of night, they leaned upon one another's presence, a mosaic of souls interwoven by the loom of kinship. With each moment elapsed, the concerns of day's labor yielded to the sorcery of the night, a sorcery that murmured secrets to attentive ears.

And as the moon ascended its celestial throne, Constance and her siblings did surrender to the gentle embrace of slumber, their dreams a portal to realms both familiar and obscure, both worldly and wondrous. The night watched over them, its shadows a silent guardian over the tranquil scene.

Thus, in the quiet core of the night, they did rest, the tendrils of darkness weaving a tapestry of dreams that connected them to the enigmas that awaited in the waking hours.

The following morn, Constance stirred to a sensation tugging at her feet. 'Twas but one of her kin, a younger sibling, whose departure marked their leave-taking. "Constance," the voice, known from yester's eve, resounded once more. As the crow took wing once more to the selfsame window, she wondered, though uncertain, if 'twas the very same corvine creature.

#story #Witchy horror #writer kinda #Set back in 1600s #i don't know #old english words

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scaryfaiiry · 9 months

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