If I ever do get real glasses at least I know I’ll be cute af ✨🦄✨
If I ever do get real glasses at least I know I’ll be cute af ✨🦄✨
Going to keep the discount code on crystals up on my website for another day or two so use MABON15 at checkout loves ❤️🍂✨
- Verbenalune.com ✨🌙
☾ Cast out from her coven for deeds which she’s rather not speak of, a young witch comes across an unremarkable cottage in the woods. ☽
Full Release Date: October 31st, 2020
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For the three mothers to see her now, she thought, would only draw their pity. Unwanted pity, at that. She was a witch disgraced, jostled away from the traditions and practices that she had grown close to over the years. It was but a single mistake, a step too far beyond the beaten path, that had sent her coven reeling, eager to express her from their ranks.
What was she if not a witch? A coven-less witch, perhaps, but that was a condemnation among her peers – and a blaring, blinking signal for those who chose to hunt her kind. As powerful as she was, more so than her fellows she would argue, a witch out on her own would always be balanced on a precarious ledge. One which she herself teetered upon now.
The dark shape cutting across her skin was an indication of that. With her free hand, the little witch pawed at it, fingertips grazing the lines and whorls that had been etched into her flesh. She’d taken great care to rid herself of the curse that had once festered there, thorns and petals and drawn blood, but even after vanishing the curse had left behind a stain. The mark, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a barbed vine, twisted around her upper forearm, spiralling upwards and disappearing beneath the short-capped sleeves of her shirt.
Pizzazz scowled. How distasteful the impromptu tattoo was, and how utterly unrelated to her talents. There was a way to remove it, sure, but she wanted a solution that didn’t involve cutting her arm off or gouging her skin from the bone. She was more focused on finding somewhere to bunker down for the next little while. If it wasn’t the hunters that were coming for her, it would be another witch.
As if summoned by the thought, a puff of hazy smoke appeared from over the treeline. Green eyes squinting, Pizzazz took another few steps forward before allowing her body to still. Albeit mortal and startlingly human-like, her senses pricked at the back of her mind, silently reminding her that she was far more capable than those who weren’t privy to the abilities she possessed. The smoke wasn’t magical in nature, or at least it didn’t smell like it: the warmth of a hearth, the sharp zing of brewing herbs. Was that oregano she was smelling? Probably.
Normal cottage smells. Little risk, then, if she sauntered up to the door and asked to stay a night or two. So that’s exactly what Pizzazz did.
The door, creaking on its hinges, opened and Pizzazz took a step back as an elderly woman answered her knock. With a kerchief tied around her head and her skirt hiked up below her ribs, the elderly lady was the perfect image of a grandmother. Her mouth parted in a gentle yet nearly toothless smile.
“Éadaoin,” The name was strange and almost twisted when the old woman pronounced it, warped by her heavy accent. “That is your name, yes?”
“No,” the words slipped out before she could stop them. “… Yes. That’s not what I go by, though. Not anymore.”
Ukrainian Witch, 1897
I just witnessed someone saying that hungarians are asians
and while I wrote them a short clarification on the topic, I wanted to write a more in depth analysis on that
So here’s me explaining to my friend why it upset me so much:
So yea please dont say Hungarians are Asian because it feels very insensitive and ignorant
Must be the season of the WITCH
Good for you for starting your journey!
Just found a beautiful sea fairy pool on the beach at Looe in Cornwall England.
I’ll be honest, wasn’t really vibing with calling it ‘mabon’ this year. Not quite sure why. I like the British term ‘harvest home’ for this festival, but for now I’m just calling it the equinox. My observance was to create a feast and take the time to cook and eat without watching videos or listening to podcasts. Just myself, my thoughts, and some nice autumn-sounding music.
The star of the show: borsok, pre-frying. There is, according to one source I read, a belief that eating borsok that is fried in fragrant oil is feeding the dead. If so I certainly fed the dead: I ended up making two batches with salt and honey. This picture is about half a batch.
Soda and black raspberry wine. The first cup of wine was poured over the sink and I let it overflow so that my fortunes for the upcoming season would always be overflowing. The wine is tart and was a good counterpoint to the heaviness of the rest of the meal.
A pretty pitiful feast! I forewent fruit and other foods in order to keep it simple. But I couldn’t finish all of the pasta. I tried a new cooking method and it came out wonky. It’s a bit out of focus here but that’s all right–it didn’t look all that appetizing in person.
Overall a quiet way to spend the equinox. I didn’t cast any rituals or spells. Simply noted the passing of the season, and treated myself with more care than I normally do.
OK, serious question time.
I’ve spoken to a few people about this in the context of conversation and they said its a shame that I haven’t published any more of my twos “spicy” chapters.
To me they were something that needed to be written, they helped the development of their characters together and their relationship and they really show just how comfortable and playful they are together, how relaxed and confident John has become and how close they are, but I’ve never published them as I’ve not been sure on the reception they would get.
I set out to write a love story that doesn’t ignore the rest of the family, the family dynamics and above all the emphasis on healthy relationships both romantic, platonic and between siblings and I didnt want that overshadowed by spicy scenes, but more and more people are saying they want to see them.
The spicy scenes, although explicit are written exactly the same as everything else is, as sensitively as possible and with heavy emphasis on the emotions, feelings and love there, and have always been within the context of the story. I don’t consider it smut, its not just sex for the sake of it and its done for a reason.
I can’t shoe horn them in to the main story now as it would mess with the flow and some people might not want to read them, but if there is enough interest I was thinking that I’d have a rated M/E offshoot collection.
Who would actually want to read/see that?
I have never been more in equal parts awe and dissatisfaction with my own artistic works than I am now.
I can bring flat images into living color, breathe life into every curve and shadow.
I can make the emotions easier to read than big bold letters in the reflection of coke-bottle glasses.
I can make the lines sing.
So somebody explain to me why in the actual FUCK I can’t design on the face cards for the Major Arcana of my custom deck WITHOUT BREAKING DOWN INTO TEARS. ITS EVEN GOT A BASIC THEME THAT I’M GOOD WITH.
WHY IS EVERYTHING WROOOOOOONG????
My own grimoire pages #3
Lucifer has always been quite graceful~
So I’m feeling about lost with the craft at the moment, so I was wondering if you guys can recommend to me some books and resources about the following topics: