#witchborn

[amarrymeinbostonwriter]

Black was another color I had a lot of on my shelf. So Thursday is Black. 

#black books #thursday #mary's monster #zastrozzi #the diary of dr. john william polidori #romantic outlaws #the tales of angria #wuthering heights #hearts and other body parts #if we were villains #tash hearts tolstoy #white noise #witchborn #odd & true #save the date #on writing #mary oliver #the asylum for wayward victorian girls #the country girls #be faithful unto death #the shadow queen #passing #stay sexy and don't get murdered #johnathan strange and mr. norell #I've read 11 out of these 22 books #owned tbr #books #my chatter

[simonsaysletsgo]

Personally, I think Leah Cornick, for her great sacrifice of being mated to Bran for 200 fucking years should just get to be a bitch to whomever she wants. Shes earned it.

#leah cornick #alpha and omega series #ive ALWAYS thought leah was a bad bitch #i remember years ago reading Cry Wolf and posting to the OG Patty forums about Leah and how she clearly had other stuff going on #like even in wild signs Charles is like “theres no way leah can be there by morning” and SURPRISE bitch shes there following Anna #in the middle of the night and then she saves her and kills her son and cuts his heart out and kills Cthulhu #actually the BADDEST BITCH #and she doesnt even have special walker or witchborn or omega powers shes just stubborn #love her for that #ALSO #charles: Ill know when Leah gets within five miles #also charles: has no idea where she is until she shows up with anna #TRULY

[foryouthegays]

look at my new outfit!!! pink :]

#i love this horse sm #such a cool pattern #her name is witchborn !!! #horse #sso

[dorianwolfforest]

Hello and here are some horse names cause i have hundreds of them, surely some are good:

Grimtail

Silverwillow

Batwings

Eldergait

Ghostprince

Mayflight

Wishstone

Oaktree

Witchborn

Angelfall

Honeybee

Witchstrider

Lovely

Archie

Firewatcher

Violetice

Boxly

Mistchief

Pirateking

Acorn

Hollowspirit

Bowbee

Gloompop

Coppershine

Rosepetal

Any fruit or spice followed by the suffix pie

Tinyhoof

Braveheart

Moontea

Snowdancer

Witchweaver

Everaura

Risingowl

Osprey

Charmace

Foxboy

Hilljoy

Northpine

Ancientweaver

Bowo

Abyssling

Baybee

Corey

Breadcrumb

Witchoak

Lionguard

Archway

Glowlin

Steampunk

Beatbox

Nacho

Timeseeker

Faithfree

Foxdale

Everhollow

Starmark

Earthling

Rowbook

Nightlight

#sso #ssoblr

[stagbeetleboy]

I’ve also went ahead and came up with vampire lore within the same universe as my witchborn werewolves.

So the first vampires were once angels stationed at the throne of god in eternal genuflection who turned their heads from the light, and when they saw creation could not differentiate between god and those made in god’s image.

They’re not rebellious they just didn’t have context for mankind and worshiped them exactly like god. Which infuriated god who corrupted their worship into hunger and lust, basically making them into the first generation of vampires and turning them loose on mankind.

The angels became vampires for being misguided but anyone they fed from ALSO became vampires as punishment for tempting them. If you trace any vampiric bloodline to their oldest sire it is always going to be a angel/generation one vampire, everyone after was once human.

#random lore #vampires

[justmaghookit]

In the world of Stranger Happenings(that's the name of my original world lol) Arcane is the general word used for a specific kind of cosmic energy that allows a person who can channel it to change reality. Born spell casters and Learned spell casters dont really have an advantage over the other.

Just because someone is born with a natural affinity for the arcane doesn't mean they're any good at actually using it and both groups are just as likely to blow themselves up. Both can also benefit from the others experiences. Someone born with magical talent can benefit from study and ritual as much as someone who learnt it from books can benefit from learning to let the flow of energy guide and carry them.

"A wizard writes it out, a witch thinks it through." Both approaches have their methods and as stated before both are just as likely to explode if you get it wrong.

There are weird cases like Suri who is "witchborne" and exceptionally adept at just about any magic theory she puts her mind to, the downside of such natural prowess is that it fucks with your body and brain and can really mess you up. Magic in any form is hungry, and it always takes its due.

#bird chatter #oc chatter #stranger happenings

[books-of-the-great-leviathan]

Chapter 4- Luca

***

"...And to Laurais she said, you'd be better off dead, and your head 'pon the gates of my new land..."

"...And the king he did flee, and with terrible glee, Valeria called out her command..."

"Laurais did laugh, and turned back to the queen, and declared she wouldn't be winning. But his words they did die, as the queen he did spy, and she was not afraid but grinning!"

Luca took Cereza's outstretched hands. She nodded, and together they took a deep breath, their voices joining in unsteady harmony.

"So the sky turned to lightning and thunder," they sang, "as her witch-king brought storms galore! Laurais' armies were roasted and burned up and toasted, and the land was Valeria's forevermore!"

Luca let out his breath as he and Cereza whirled toward their audience and sank into a low, theatrical bow.

Sirin stared, her eyebrows arched, while Niive sat with crossed arms and a flat expression. Between them Puppy gave a little yip, its round blue-and-gold eyes shining.

"Well," Luca said after a pause, "at least the cute one liked it."

"It makes no sense," Niive said, uncrossing her arms. "Why did the Aiatar help her? Why did he want to join with her? He wouldn't do something that ridiculous. She had nothing to offer him in return."

"She had a crown, and power, and all sorts of things," Cereza replied, ticking off on her fingers. "Besides, he was in love with her."

"That's not a very good reason," Niive said.

Cereza looked at her feet. "It's just a play. Just a story."

Kind of a stupid story, Sirin signed.

Niive smiled, showing a mouthful of pointed teeth. She was taller than any of them, a pale, lean girl with long black hair, dressed in a simple linen shift. Her eyes were the bright, unblinking gold of a hawk's, the arrangement of her face at once lovely and alien. No islander, she, though she could certainly be as critical as one.

"I agree with the witchborn," she said. "Is it popular in Lapide, or did you write it yourself?"

"It's extremely popular," Luca protested. "The Lay of Valeria and her Conquest of Lapide: How she Freed our Beloved Island from the Chains of Estara."

"Extremely popular," Niive echoed. "And where is this play extremely popular?"

"Well," Luca said, "I saw it performed many a time at establishments all across the docks and harbors to universal acclaim."

Isn't it a taberna show? Sirin signed, her lips twitching as if she were suppressing a smile. A mummer's play?

"You people have no respect for theater." Luca bent to snatch up a ragged flap of sailcloth painted with swirling patterns in squid-ink. Cereza had used it as a makeshift curtain, representing the veil of snow Valeria's witch had summoned to hide her warships' approach.

"It's a good story," he went on. "Queen Valeria, sailing from the Great Blue, coming across a Lapide recently freed from the shackles of the Sundered Empire. Split by civil war, run by usurpers, falling apart."

He lifted his hand as if holding an imaginary sword, imitating the statue that stood in the grand agora of Valeris Palace. "Without her, and without her witch-consort, Lapide would've probably been snapped back up by the Belmonts years ago. She unified the people, brought order to Lapide, made it prosperous. Made it its own country, not just a northern backwater territory of Estara. "

And I'm sure Estara feels the same, Sirin said, her expression wry.

"Cut out the treasonous talk, Sirin. You know you like it too."

This time she did smile, her full lips twitching into a small grin. Luca couldn't help but smile back. Puppy pushed its head under Sirin's hand, and she stroked it, her fingers sending ripples of iridescence across its sleek black fur.

Also, she added, lifting her hands, your voice is terrible.

"Oh, you critic." Luca tossed the balled-up sailcloth at her. She caught it, neatly, as he'd known she would. "Cee, you have the water?"

She passed him a battered old canteen. He drank, staring past the sides of the schooner and across the sea, eyes narrowed against the flare of sunlight off the water.

The sea stretched, infinite.

Each day he searched it for something besides wind and waves, and each day he failed. Land seemed like a dream, a doldrums mirage conjured by a feverish mind. All the world might be the Great Blue, islands long-since swallowed up. Luca had tried to chart their location by the stars, but they were useless, constellations unfamiliar, his compass needle flickering back and forth, never settling. A week had passed, a week of sun-seared days of terrible theater and lonely nights scattered with stars, broken only by the whisper and heave of the sea, by the creak of their schooner, which had been reduced to a broken hull drifting on the waves.

Their sails were gone, their mast and rigging gone, torn away by the Great Leviathan's maelstrom. Niive managed to push them forward, funneling the winds down to coax the schooner along like a child blowing on a toy in the bath, but in six long days and nights no land had appeared on the horizon, no ships, no end to the monotony of waves and hard blue sky. They'd managed well enough so far, fishing, eating up the hardtack from the few supplies that hadn't been swept away, drinking rainwater summoned by Niive's power, but Luca knew they couldn't stay like this forever.

If they didn't find a way out of the Great Blue, find a way back to the charted waters of the Inner Sea, they'd die out here after all.

The water stung his cracked lips, and his thirst hadn't abated much. It never did, no matter how much rainwater he drank. He lowered the canteen.

Is there to be more? Sirin asked.

"Hmm?"

More...singing?

"Oh. No. Unless you want to hear the Lay of the Orkwife's Daughter and the Young Gallant of Ishvol?"

I'd rather lay in my grave, Sirin said with a snort. She rose and stretched, cracking her neck, and crossed to the ragged jut of what had once been the schooner's bowsprit. She stepped out and settled herself onto it, one leg hooked beneath her, the other dangling. She was gaunt from the past week of travel, her dark skin sunburnt, like Luca's own. Sirin's hair, once cropped to her scalp, had grown out in dense short twists, softening the lines of her head.

Neither looked like what they had been: witchborn and prince, in command of fell artifacts and ancient magics. Instead they looked like what they were now: a pair of shipwrecked survivors cast adrift on the Great Blue, the vast and windswept nothingness beyond the outer ocean.

"You'll miss my singing one day," Luca called.

She didn't reply. Luca stared after her for a moment, his brow furrowed. She'd been that way since the storm- there one moment, gone the next. Something had shifted with her; he felt it around her, a new tension in the air, a new tension between them, a fragility he couldn't explain. Something was different.

Maybe she just needed time. Maybe they all did. So much had changed. Still, he couldn't help but think of the Sirin who'd held his hand as the waves roared closer, who'd forced the water from his lungs, who'd saved his life.

He went to the edge of the schooner and sat on an upturned bucket, beneath a ragged canopy of sailcloth held up with the house of Valere's ancestral harpoon. One end was stabbed into the deck, the other supporting the canopy. This time of day, the sun beginning its slow descent toward the horizon, it cast a swath of shadow cool as a healing balm. Come noon, the canopy and Niive's wings were their only respite from the sun. Not so long ago Luca would have been aghast at the prospect of using the harpoon as a glorified tentpole, but these were heathen days.

Luca fetched out a cake of hardtack and bit into it. It almost tasted good. That was a bad sign.

Shadow fell over him as he chewed; he looked up and into Cereza's face.

"How is it?" she asked.

He shrugged and swallowed with effort. "Could use some Buyani caviar if you've got it."

"Shame. I'm all out." She bumped her knee against his shoulder. "Move your arse. I want to sit."

Luca moved his arse. Cereza settled alongside him, her elbows to her knees, her feet poised on tiptoe. She was sunburnt, too, her long blonde hair ragged and dry and knotted with salt. Luca knew she must hate it. As a little girl, she always cried when her maids had to work the tangles out. He offered the hardtack biscuit, and she accepted, breaking a little piece off and feeding it to Puppy. The little creature sat at her feet. Luca stroked its ears, and it yipped, blinking its huge eyes up at him.

"You liked our play, didn't you?" Luca asked it.

It licked his hand in response, leaving behind a smear of iridescent spit.

"Maybe it wants a bite out of you," Cereza giggled.

As if it understood her, it yawned, exposing a mouthful of teeth. Its white cuspids seemed disproportionately huge for its head. For all Luca knew, it did understand her. The little creature was a complete enigma- what it wanted, what it was hungry for, even what it was.

Deep beneath the waves, deep inside himself, deep inside the dying heart of the Leviathan, he'd made a promise. Now, on the edge of the world, in the vast nothingness of the Great Blue, he had no idea whether or not he'd be able to keep it.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he muttered. His voice sounded like it had begun to rust. Maybe he'd had too much hardtack.

"What happened, Luca?" Cereza asked quietly. "What really happened?"

"I don't know, Cee, I told you before."

She faced him, staring with unsettling intensity. "Tell me again."

He pressed his fingertips to his temple. "I spoke with it. I think. It was like talking to myself, but more than myself. I...dreamed. I saw it, and I saw everything."

Luca let out his breath. "I don't remember it all. It feels fragile to try. Like my head might split and drive me mad. But I remember enough. It said there would be consequences for interrupting its cycle of rebirth. Maybe this is what it meant."

He touched Puppy's head. Puppy had grown from the size of a fox kit to nearly knee-high, a little four-legged creature with a tail like an otter and round, low-set ears, its fur the same deep, glistening black as the Leviathan's hide. It climbed into his lap, short claws digging into his legs, turned round, and settled, chin to forepaws, staring like he'd been, out to sea. It didn't feel like a god. Its fur was warm, its heartbeat steady. It felt like an animal. A newborn.

"What about you?" he asked Cereza. "Are you all right?"

"You've asked me that a hundred times."

"And I'll ask you a hundred more. You died, Cee. You actually died."

"Come on, let that go."

"I can't. It's my job to be both annoying and incessant, especially around the delicate matter of my sister's death."

She laughed, her round face shining. "And you are that."

Her hand crept to her heart and its sunburst of crystalline scars. To the wound left behind by the curse that had crushed the life from her, that had killed her, that the Leviathan had broken, in its last act, bringing her back from death.

"Honestly, I don't know," Cereza admitted. "There's something different. I don't...understand, not really. I don't even think I know who I am anymore."

"You're Cereza. That won't change."

She flashed him a look. "Won't it? What am I, then? I'm not like you, or like Isabella. What am I? A pretty thing bought and sold in service of Lapide. A cursed girl, and then a dead girl, resurrected by the mercy of powers far greater than myself."

Her hand dropped back to her lap, and she shook her head as if in disgust. "Sometimes I feel like I don't understand anything at all."

Luca took her hand. He had no answers for himself, much less for her. He was exhausted, and heatlagged, and aching. His head, his muscles. His hair was tangled with sweat. He missed Nagi, who'd died defending him against the Estaran Witchhunters on a beach a hundred leagues from here. He wanted scented rooms, and cool wind, and the glint of sunlight off verdigris, the world sinking into twilight, the murmur of Valeris enfolding him sweet as a lullaby. He wanted an end to blue swells and the staring eye of the sun, day after day after day.

He wanted home.

"I need to talk to Isabella," Luca said.

"Isabella? Why Isabella?"

"I don't like being enemies with her," Luca said. "And Hells, I want a bath."

"I want my bed."

"Your...bed?"

"I love my bed." Her gray eyes slid shut. "And I want Mother. I want to show her I'm all right."

"She'll be so glad to see you. After she finishes yelling at us both," Luca said, nudging her shoulder with his own. Cereza giggled, hiding her mouth with her hand.

They fell silent, the two of them, gray eyes fixed on the swells. The tops of the waves were stained with gold and orange, the colors of fire. Real fire, not spellfire, not the ocean turned to a bath of blue light by Estaran bolt cannons. The wind breathed, and the sun sank, and the first stars appeared high overhead.

Cereza leaned her head against Luca's shoulder. She was quiet for awhile, her hand moving to stroke Puppy's back. The creature had fallen asleep, its breathing slow and even.

"What are we going to do?" Cereza asked.

Luca couldn't lie to her. He couldn't say aloud the truth, either- that they might die out here, that this endless ocean might be the last thing they ever saw, that all their efforts might be for nothing. That even so, it was worth it, so see her alive, to be with her all the way to the end.

"Something dramatic," he said at last.

He sensed her smile. "Do you regret it?"

"Regret what? There's a list."

"Coming here. Breaking the curse. Leaving Lapide to save my life."

Luca smiled, ruffling his sister's hair. "I regret a lot of things, Cee. That will never be one of them."

#tales of the great leviathan #grave of the great leviathan #fantasy fiction #original fiction #serial novel #chapter 4

[h-i-raeth]

The Shadow of Dust for WIP Wednesday! BECAUSE HDM MEETS STRANGER THINGS YES PLEASE.

Once again it turns out that I am a liar because I was thinking about Lore Things & a snippet came to me (even further into the plot than the last one, this is season 4 territory & this AU firmly has its start in season 1. RIP)

“It’s rare for a witch to have twins. Rarer still for them to be different sexes. A witchborn child who shares a womb with a witchling won’t age the way a witch does, but there is magic in them. They can be taught the texture of moonlight. They’ll bear the lengthening rite with as much ease as a witch. They’re like as not to Settle in a form with wings. 

“There’s a great deal of superstition surrounding the phenomenon. My mother’s tribe held a belief that such children were cursed. They’d have drowned my brother, if they’d had the chance. We might have been better off if my mother had let them.”

#anyway Henry's deal is WAY different in the HDM AU. This is only a small part of it #& the Creel survivor is shifted from Victor to Alice because her daemon wasn't settled when the Creel Murders went down :) #Make Of That What You Will #WIP Wednesday #The Shadow Of Dust

[theleastfavoriteson]

NEW WORLD ORDER AU ZACHARIAH "EIJI" REMINGTON HANZO MATSUDA - AGE: 63 - STATUS: "UNDERCOVER"

While the hack did not occur in 2023, this did not mean that Eiji was still or inactive. He kept a lower profile, doing what he could to cause mayhem in the supernatural world in order to advance his plans, but never quite reaching a breakthrough. That was, until the 2030 hack, which took even him by surprise. In the months that followed, Eiji stepped forward as a witchborn human, and used his connections with the Council in order to help arrange, and negotiate, the peace treaty. When it was passed, he stepped back, eventually using his contacts with the Fixers to craft himself a new, entirely human life, and vanishing into the thousands of normal humans in the city.

Contact with his parents, and former life, dwindled even more as he got more and more settled into living as Hanzo, and eventually ceased upon beginning to seriously date the person who would become his partner. They would get married in 2037, in a small courthouse ceremony. They decided not to have kids. His life consisted of marital bliss and working for a small smart-up, content and living the life he thought he'd always wanted.

Then, the mid-2040s came around. He was concerned, watching as everything began happening, but stayed out of it; he assumed everything was under control, and that it would eventually get worked out. The longer he watched, though, the more he realized the opposite was happening, and he was faced with the reality and knowledge of the up and coming horrors. His start-up was bought by the P.S Group and Eiji, no longer living off his father's money, was forced to work for the company. As more and more technology was rolled out, and more and more began happening, Eiji began to do what he does best: disrupt.

As databases began to be compiled, he sabotaged them in slight ways; a small change to code here that would break everything and take someone hours to find, "accidentally" making data harder to access, and other small things. After hours, he would reach out to old Fixer contacts to pass along messages, trying to alert those in the most danger that eyes were on them.

When the assassination took place, Eiji thought he could breathe, but that was short lived as Park Siwoo proved to be a greater terror than his father. Eiji, fearful, remained, keeping up his small efforts to make keeping registries harder and trying to use what access he has to company data to make as many coordinated efforts as he can useless, but he knows it's very little in the grand scheme of things. But he is too old, and has his partner to think of, to fully go back to the ways of his youth.

#vievecorcitytask #vcnewworldevent

[deusvivus]

maren is 'possessed' by the goddess of chaos, feuds, quarrels and discord, eris. this means she can communicate with the goddess directly if she finds the need, but eris is rather quiet, unlike other gods who have 'possessed'/blessed humans, and maren rarely, if ever, seeks out her guidance.

eris' blessing has given maren destructive abilities, and is the reason she is able to summon a two headed inland taipan from a magic tattoo. the abilities maren has from eris include: earthquakes/tremors, blood manipulation and the ability to force energy outward in explosive, destructive bursts. these are all in addition to maren's natural powers and the ones she has stolen from witchborns and other abnormalities.

#i have yet to decide *why* maren was chosen by eris #but have this for right now bc im still thinking about maren

[yogubog]

[tw: ableist language (towards self), blood, bruises, implied (historical) torture]

27th of the 5th Moon, 1478 (BTCE)

I am terrified.

Father and Mother have neglected to tell me that they have asked the Church for aid in regards to my... illness. I had to find out about it from one of the maids, for Lygairm's sake! I know that they have been tiptoeing around the issue of me being a Saints damned witchborne since I was naught but a child. I know my family's blood reputation has been under scrutiny ever since they threw Sornatta and Duran to Wintervale to face trial and be hanged. I know that! Contrary to what the royals think, I am physically an invalid, not blind, and nor am I stupid.

In the light of my Mother accusing me of consorting with the witches and my Father isolating me to the west wing of the manor, my siblings have been... well, Nicolaus and Viselia have been avoiding me. They treat me as if I am nothing but a speck of dust in the hallways. Brisscha have been the same, she still talks to me but lately she's been preoccupied with a personal project of hers and I do not blame her for that. Lucian, however, has been strictly forbidden into going to my wing or interacting with me every time I am out and about. It hurts, especially since Lucian was nothing but kind and understanding to me; certainly a rare quality for someone who is ten and six, but it doesn't deter his will for sneaking into my room at night just to pester me about plants. Sigh, what a stubborn child.

As much as I would like to reminisce, I cannot help but be terrified of whatever might happen when the Priest arrives. A week before they've been carted off to Wintervale, Sornatta had told me of horrible things that these people have done to witchbornes. She told me of some type of prayer and a mystical fire that doesn't have a light but still burns hot enough not only to disintegrate the flesh and bones into ash, but also to sever one's connection to his magicks. Her words terrified me, I think I might have vomited after our conversation back then.

However... I can't help but wonder, are my fears justified? I would like to think it is, or maybe it is not. I do not know. All I can do for now is to wait for the Church's aid to arrive, and he is bound to arrive any minute now.

I know I am not witchborne. I am nothing but a son of a noble man, who has been ill most of his life and certainly not capable of doing grand feats of magicks.

... I sincerely hope I am right.

— Deorc

(a journal excerpt from The Third Child, first book of The Witching Hour Recollections)

#my art #yogubog #original character #WOOHOO 🎉🎉 MY FIRST (finished) ART IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2024 #planning on posting the journal thingy on ao3 #honestly the only reason why im kinda hyped on writing stuff now is bc i got dragged into becoming a member of our school's new literary or #this dumbass was given the responsibility of being the head of fantasy dept #NGL I AM VERY MUCH SCARED #but im gonna use this opportunity to make people read angst :3

[flaviusnavarro]

Books I recommend reading when you are bored

These are some of the books that I read during the past few days. They are not too hard to read (Most of them are targeted towards younger audiences, but I can assure you, they are worth your time!) and they are actually very interesting. 

Momo - Michael Ende 

The War That Saved My Life -  Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

Stargirl -  Jerry Spinelli

O Anibaleitor - Rui Zink

Witchborn - Nicholas Bowling

The Graveyard Book - Neil Gaiman

#the graveyard book #neil gaiman #rui zink #jerry spinelli #kimberly brubaker bradley #momo #michael ende #the war that saved my life #o anibaleitor #Witchborn #nicholas bowling #stargirl #book #books #boredom

[foryouthegays]

witchborn witchborn witchborn

#sso #horses

[kirawarner]

JOMP Book Photo Challenge March 27: Flowers

#jompbpc #book photography #bookworm #witchborn

[chihiyro]

[2019] Nial Ruadh | WITCHBORN (3D modeling)

3D modeling of my OC Nial, the main character of my story "Witchborn". --------------------- Art © Chihiyro

You can see more artwork on my other SNS.

#Character Design #OC #3d #WITCHBORN #Original Artwork #visual development

[justmaghookit]

Stranger was once a mortal human woman and now she's essentially a magical energy sink, a bottomless pit chowing down on anything and everything and letting out obscene amounts of raw arcane radiation in the process.

Suri is both witchborne(born magic user) and archon(magical conduit) meaning she draws in and stores arcane energy but cannot get rid of it unless she's using it. Essentially for Suri she'll get magical radiation poisoning if she doesn't use expell it, so she uses it for a lot of mundane things most wouldn't just to get rid of it.

#bird chatter #oc chatter #stranger happenings