idk why, but I’m just particularly proud of the “ o’ tartarus, are you missing a demon? “ line and its subsequent paragraph. it has a certain energy to it; a haunting implication, much worse than simply suggestion someone to be a demon from Tartarus, because it is a closed question. A question to be answered with Yes or No, but without any context of what sort of demon; what has escaped or was let out of Tartarus, if anything at all.
And because it does not specify that Yes, it is missing a demon, the subsequent paragraph can also suggest that there are creatures worthy of such a reputation and title wandering among the common folk. in this scenario, with that single sentence, Midnight is likened to so much and yet nothing, leaving it completely open to interpretation but still nudging the demon comparison with the next bit.
not to mention that it also demonized the nirik form to a certain degree, which I have even more thoughts on & how significant it actually was for Midnight to use it there.
me, analyzing my own writing after the fact : i’m kasz and in this essay i will----
@headstallion / @magicofequestria SENT: ❛ you do not deserve to possess magic.❜ // in regards to the Wintertide AU—
By the spirits, she is a tolerant one. Patient, too. Naught but immovable soul against the crashing waves of a society fearing the dark unknown. Ethics, they hail it. A code of morals, limiting great minds and leaving marvelous potential to rot away until ‘pon their deathbed they lie. What a waste! Must they shun progress so? Knowledge is power, an undeniable cog in life’s machine, and those who deny it will crumble beneath it. One way or another.
O’ golden etched beauty, what hath thee wrought in thy zealous pursuit? Stood beside creature akin behemoth in his ambitions, all to quench a thirst for things shunned by the world. Is that not it? Lust for power? Once upon a time, when most unexpected journey began that day, amidst buildings crumbled ‘neath hoof and spear alike, a forest set ablaze by creature never seen before, accompanied by one so very familiar. And part of her had always known: we do not belong here.
What else was out there? Beyond the confines of a village so proper and secluded? Ambitious alchemist joined to see the world and learn its secrets, but came away with something even she, in all her cunning, did not anticipate. Dark mare seeking even darker arts, what she found was worth so much more than any knowledge hidden long ago. The elegant frost strewn across winter’s early morning, soon would come a tide of warmth, and it keeps her grounded. Reminds her to be here, now. The past will still be there when she has enjoyed that which the present offers. And what beauty it offered.
What difference it then strikes, being made to rot away in a cell where nay stars may be counted, nor sunlight reflect scales long rid of their shine. Cold stone digs into joints aching from lack of exercise. She is idle, a dark picture of serenity despite everything, cast in freezing shadows. Luscious mane falls heavy with dust and grime, darkened akin the ashes left in her wake that day. A lion in a cage, robbed of all its glory, is that what she is to become? A trophy for creatures like him to gloat at? Does it make you feel better about yourself, chancellor?
She takes pride in apathy, though it be not her heart’s desire, but something about his words pierces and burrows itself deep into Kirin’s being. And soon he will learn: rousing her attention was the worst mistake he has made in a long time.
Thus the dark being wakes from her reverie and from within the darkness gleam crimson eyes. Tired, but ne’er broken. Powers greater than the haunting weight of imprisonment have tried to destroy her spirit before — they are hers to command now. Long legs shift, and though none can tell how long they have suffered to lie still, the mare slowly rises with a grace unchallenged, tall and imposing, gaze unyielding. Every bone in her body aches — begs to be stretched and waken from slumber — and the first piece to be granted relief is her neck. A momentary twist; an equal parts satisfying and grotesque crack precedes the long exhale of air.
“ Deserve? “ like haunting melody of a siren comes a voice so gentle yet cold, all warmth taken from what once might have been a soothing noise. Rhetorical; incredulity ‘pon its edge, as though speaking to a child who knew not better. “ Oh please, “ one after the other does she stretch her hindlegs behind her as she speaks, scaled back curving to accommodate. But her attention never leaves brash visitor. “ No one deserves anything, “ posture straightens and finally the Kirin steps forward.
“ It is merely a concept created to control that which you fear, be it a creature or your own incompetence, “ like biting frost ‘pon first winter day, yet ‘neath crimson of her eyes and incline of her brow flickers something else, creeping towards the surface as ever closer she steps towards the bars separating them. “ When you want something ... “. Head held high, no grime could ever hide uncrowned majesty beneath, regal in all but name. But even a daydream can be twisted into a nightmare under the right circumstances.
A fizzle and a pop, and the space between them grows heavy.
the ordinary would not know. cannot see the strings of the world as those borne with the gift of magic are, one with its arcane web. silent and unmoving to the naked eye is the space between stallion and mare — but they know better; like unspoken conversation are the world’s inner workings bared to their senses, ethereal and beautiful; ancient and forever — and so very angry. a festering rage around mythical Kirin, threatening to consume all in its wake, violently assaulting its confines. with every beat it grows angrier — hungrier.
A halo of golden flame atop her crown, how divine a sight, this rage of a lover scorned as her horns are slowly set ablaze. And though it struggles, subdued time and again with every flicker, it jumps back to life with more and more each time, growing ever greater, enveloping grand antlers. Another step towards the bars she then takes, nostrils flaring.
It hurts. Oh, how it hurts. Ancient magic burning grand Kirin from within as it thrashes against restraints. Chest heaves, horns crack and fur bristles much like the air, unseen embers of magic pervading a previously benign atmosphere. Edges of a mane once pristine turn dark, singed. It is agony, the blazing heat ‘neath her hide and even frozen composure gradually succumbs to a twisted snarl, but nothing will compare to the ache of a love lost. Try to burn her at the stake, she will set the world aflame — the chancellor her first victim.
Another fizzle. Bindings previously unseen fade into existence under the strain of focused assault, runic spellwork circling curved antlers. It stutters and it hisses, struggling to contain a desperation made manifest — something primal seeking to be let out.
A crack and the world seems to slow. Bindings shatter like glass and flames erupt.
Hindlegs kick the ground and grand Kirin becomes a blazing blur of motion. Lithe body passes through solid bars like vengeful ghost, dashing past arrogant chancellor only to twist her tall body, not once slowing as flaming horns lower and hook ‘neath stallion’s form like a beast possessed. A hard shove angled upwards takes his balance and she rears with all her fury, sending him through the air to come crashing down hard on his back, followed shortly by fiery hooves caging him beneath her with a thunderous noise, mere inches from his head.
o’ tartarus, are you missing a demon? a creature bathed in flame and fury, violet coat turned to obsidian and empty eyes blazing with white, hot rage. scales once golden are naught but coal, their fissures blazing bright; the last line between the scorching heat thrashing beneath. yet still it escapes, grand mane an untamed inferno, framing her like the fires of hell, elegant visage twisted into an unholy snarl, sharp teeth bared.
And she could take him with her — drag him to the depths of Tartarus, melt away flesh and sinew until nothing remains, show him a fraction of the pain she felt in solitude, away from all she held dear. It would be easy, none could stop her — he would be but another stepping stone on her journey in this world, a pile of bones in a collection forever growing. ( is destruction still a sin when borne of love? )
Her breathing comes quick, uneven. Prideful alchemist, how deep she has drank from the fountain of her ancestors; a specter of wrath in mortal form, with every great inhale do flames draw closer towards stallion’s own fur, and with every exhale they recede. So miniscule a difference, yet how terrifying the lightest motion becomes when trapped beneath a force of nature out for vengeance. Embers dance between them, pricking at fur with deceitful innocence, mocking them both.
She could end him.
And as the demon deigns to lower her golden-crowned head, scorching temperatures radiating off flaming mane and framing them both in their light, from betwixt her teeth comes the voice of fire; determined and full of purpose: “ you will not keep me from my beloved. “
But not today.
An angry gust of air through her nostrils hits his face and then she is gone. A ghost of mercy, no ashes left in her wake.
reminder that this blog takes sinday and other nsfw asks. there won’t be a separate blog.
for now, know that Midnight is a bottom dom, especially with stallions. with mares it varies much more often. i gotta find again where I wrote it, but her methodical nature does translate into the bedroom; a lot of attention to detail that manifests as body worship.
THE CAPTAIN. you are inspiration and desperation all at once. whether you are sailing to find aztec gold, to hunt a mythical sea creature, or to discover a lost sunken city, you are determined to go beyond your limits and make a name for yourself. perhaps during your time on land you were not given all the love you deserved, so you believe you must earn it. you impassion your crew with speeches from the bow and you lead by example, but when you are alone in the stern you wonder, what if all of this is for nothing ? what if you fail ? what you dread is that at the end of the journey, after you’ve harvested all the gold of the seas, it will not fill the aching void in your soul. what confidence and faith you cannot give yourself, you imbue on your crew. you hope you will not let them down. you don’t realize that your crew follow your colors not because of your treasure trove, but because of your heart of gold.
TAGGED: @heartcfequestria !! more smooches for u !
a lil’ reminder that this is a sideblog to @wardingdreams ! I’ll get up a theme / bio etc for Midnight at some point, but it’s not a priority right now. Thank you folks for the interest in this tol kirin though !
The love of yearning, of candlelit nights spend staring longingly at your lover's hands or of cramping your own with the effort of writing the perfect love letter, yours is the love that transcends time, expectations, and patience. When you're in love with somebody, you give them your whole heart. An extremely loyal, thoughtful, and introspective person, your ideal date may involve simply opening a bottle of wine and revelling in the company of your favourite person. Voted most likely to fall in love with somebody who your soul remembers from a past life - if you believe in that sort of thing. Best matched with: Mulberry, Peacock, Scarlet
❛ this book is full of the darkest magic you’ll ever read. ❜ // From Storm
Does she dare ? To step forward and take a book most unholy from grasp of His Majesty ? It is offered, she knows. Demanded to be used, for what is she but a portal between him and the darker arts he so desires ? A tool made to transcribe and translate, ever at beck and call of satyr king. And it was ... acceptable. A decent life finds the hard worker, freedom to research with more resources available than ever. If she must share her discoveries with a tyrant of storms, so would it be a price she was willing to pay ( o’ darling alchemist, you weigh lives without remorse. )
Grand Kirin can feel it — smell and hear it, what power radiates from such sophisticated bundle of fallen trees. A corpse of nature, perversion of all things holy screaming silently, holding only wicked things, it pervades the air. A magical stench, both bitter and salty, like warning curious spellcasters of the pain it has caused and will cause evermore. Nose long become sensitive to such scents, it gives gentle chuff ‘pon unpleasant invasion. And yet, it only spurs on her interest. Such terrible notes, what dark things must be hidden inside ?
Darkest magic you’ll ever read, he proclaimed. A bold claim. His majesty knows much of what valued alchemist conjures forth and has read over the years. But not everything. What secrets she harbors in a mind most enigmatic, following naught but a thirst for more ( albeit dearest heart has begun to disagree. what beautiful snowflake, their empress. ) And she will gladly take this offer akin meal placed before starving creature. In any other circumstance, Midnight would name it generous, but no boon of his majesty is for free. Not truly.
Thus a step forward she takes and crown of horns is set ablaze with gentle magic as attention shifts upwards from dangerous artifact. A breath inhaled, chest rises and eyes close for but a moment in which lightest bow of her head is given in quiet gratitude. ( ever humble in gesture ) Golden hue slowly envelopes damning literature, and when last gap closes, mother nature heaves a heavy sigh. A nose is rid of invasive stench and ears attuned to realms beyond must no longer bear the cries of forlorn souls.
❝ You are generous, my king, ❞ alchemist’s voice is a gentle breeze against stark reality of their interaction, muzzle beset with gentle smile. Haunting spellcraft lifts from his grasp, if allowed, and made to hover beside her withers with utmost caution. ❝ Would you permit me the honor of your presence in my study this eve ? There is progress I humbly request your sanction of, and perhaps I will have the bare bones of a thesis for this book by then. ❞
relating to, but not limited to, witchcraft & witchery. may or may not contain triggers, categorized by good/bad/neutral as requested. please proceed to read/reblog with caution.
GOOD MAGIC
❛ not all spells are bad, you must stray away from the bad magic. ❜
❛ there’s nothing wrong with a bit of magic, as long as it’s for the good. ❜
❛ you’re like a vase and the magic is the water. ❜
❛ i don’t need magic to see that. ❜
❛ not every spell is considered to be bad. ❜
❛ this spell book here contains no such bad magic nor will it ever. ❜
❛ i’m working up a new potion. it’s for the greater good, of course. ❜
❛ i’ve never used my powers/magic for anything but good things. ❜
❛ there is no competition with magic, you either possess, or you don’t. ❜
❛ no one power/magic is better nor greater than the other. ❜
❛ remember, everything you learn is to be used for good. ❜
❛ you think every witch/sorcerer is bad? do i look evil to you? ❜
❛ i’ve only ever used my magic/powers for good. ❜
❛ it’s not the magic/powers that are bad, it’s the person who possesses it. ❜
❛ there is good and bad in everything, you must always chose to be good. ❜
❛ my powers/magic are not a weapon! i will not be treated as such! ❜
❛ i cannot help you with your wishes, it’s far too evil. ❜
❛ magic is a delicate thing and i treat it as such. ❜
❛ i don’t always use magic/my powers, i don’t always need to. ❜
❛ it is a blessing not a curse, it’s only a curse if you wish to do evil. ❜
❛ i did come here to show off my powers/magic, what do you take me for? ❜
❛ i’m not a witch! i’m a person possessing magic. big difference. ❜
❛ these are healing potions, they will heal just about any form of life. ❜
❛ the good always outweighs the bad, just remember that. ❜
❛ it’s best to use magic/powers when you understand them. ❜
BAD MAGIC
❛ i’ve never used magic for anything other than evil. ❜
❛ i will be the greatest and the most powerful, mark my words. ❜
❛ i’ve hexed so many people, i’ve lost count. ❜
❛ a curse is never easy to lift, hence the sole purpose of it. ❜
❛ what’s the point in having powers/magic, if you don’t take advantage? ❜
❛ you have always abused your magical privileges. ❜
❛ i wouldn’t use my powers/magic for the good if it was life and death. ❜
❛ you really only know how to cast curses/hexes? ❜
❛ i specialize in curses and hexes only, anything else is just noise. ❜
❛ shhh, you shouldn’t even speak of such dark magic. ❜
❛ this book is full of the darkest magic you’ll ever read. ❜
❛ what is the difference between light and dark magic? ❜
❛ dark magic is wonderful, you learn the most from it. ❜
❛ there are so many hexes/curses to cast, i never know which one to pick. ❜
❛ have you ever had a curse/hex casted upon you? ❜
❛ there is no such thing as good magic. ❜
❛ why are you so wicked with such a beautiful gift? ❜
❛ you do not deserve to possess magic/powers. ❜
❛ i’ve got a wicked idea in mind, want to hear? it involves magic. ❜
❛ the best magic of all, of course, is dark magic. ❜
❛ have you ever wanted to step into dark magic? ❜
❛ this a book of dark magic, but it is not easy to open. ❜
❛ you have to do a sacrifice to get this dark magic book open. ❜
❛ have you ever participated in dark magic? it’s very liberating. ❜
❛ all of these spells contain blood and sacrifice… ❜
NEUTRAL MAGIC
❛ what witch/sorcerer doesn’t own a spell book? ❜
❛ for future reference, never interrupt my ritual again. ❜
❛ gemstones are great collectibles for healing. ❜
❛ every movie about witchcraft is kind of off point, i feel. ❜
❛ i’m unable to use magic/my powers until i’m older. ❜
❛ do you fly on broom stick and all that? ❜
❛ it’s actually rather hard to stir up a potion. ❜
❛ i don’t own a wand nor a broom stick, but i will drop a house on you. ❜
❛ spell books are often hard to find. ❜
❛ i could close my eyes, pretend to concentrate and you would be scared. ❜
❛ you know they used to hang witches back in the olden days. ❜
❛ this isn’t a spell, this is common sense. ❜
❛ this isn’t magic, it’s just glitter. ❜
❛ i’ve always wanted to live in a cabin in the woods though. ❜
❛ the best time to do a ritual is of an evening. ❜
❛ would like to do a healing ritual with me? it’s harmless. ❜
❛ let’s go candle shopping, come on! i love candles! ❜
❛ i’m still human, you know, with feelings! ❜
❛ you know, there is something else i possess; feelings! ❜
❛ look, it’s really not like any of that. ❜
❛ what’s so special about it? nothing, of course. it’s not special. ❜
❛ i don’t feel any greater or better because of it. ❜
❛ there are spells/potions that can be used for both, good and evil. ❜
❛ i would rather not use magic/my powers, i’d rather pretend i don’t have any. ❜
❛ i would never flaunt it as if it’s something so great to have! ❜
a commission for @wardingdreams / @alkhemeia as a gift for @wintersembers of their characters midnight ashes and wintertide frost sharing a gay holiday !!
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