#godwitch

[penddraig]

the wizard stretches himself across her table,   pushing his arms out in front of him much like a cat would.   then he straightens himself back up to lean on both his arms,   looking up at the ceiling in mock interest.   there's nothing interesting about ceilings.    ❝    do you know,   i think it's utter nonsense what anyone says.   i've heard fools say that women who exhibit any amount of obstinacy would make terrible wives for anyone who respected themselves.    ❞    he huffs,   as if he finds something about that statement funny.   it's clear,   when he speaks next,   that his thoughts are what amuse him.    ❝    well,   we all know your horns are made of iron and diamond,   and anyone who doesn't have a head strong enough to butt against yours isn't worth the trouble anyways.   don't think i believe that about you,   mind you.    ❞

@godwitch.   ‘ the stories say brides don’t live to the light before demons devour them.   why should i become one ? ’

❝    ah,   but you should learn that every story passed from generation to generation becomes more warped and untrue the more mouths it passes through.   the stories also say :   those who don't finish every speck of food on their plates will grow warts and callouses on their bodies,   and ;   those who think to challenge just authority shall be punished for all eternity,   doomed to become another sisyphus for the ages,   a shining example to us all .   so far,   i've seen neither of these things come true very often.   i doubt there's a lick of truth to any of the stories you've heard.   although i have heard of demons devouring the unruly husbands and wives  …    ❞

he clicks his tongue and offers the woman an exaggerated simper.    ❝    then again,   perhaps it would be better if the stories were a little true.   nothing good ever comes of brides and demons.   you should clean any demons out thoroughly before a single thought of marriage crosses your mind.    ❞    and then,   with a grunt,   he stands up right again,   approaching until he's only a good several feet away.   from here,   he can even spot the blues of her eyes,   and perhaps a third shade of her dark hair.    ❝    for the record,   i would be terribly sorry if you were to become a bride.    ❞    it's not clear if he means for himself,   or for her,   nor does he offer the clarification.

.゜––   of fairytales, folklore and faekind.  /  𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.

[wyrdhearth]

honestly wished I had decided to stay longer in nyc with @godwitch. meeting cora was SUCH a delight and made what would have otherwise been a very tiring, difficult and emotionally taxing trip so much better!

cora I just wanted to say thank you for letting me stay with you! it's been so awesome connecting over our shared grievances and roleplay drama and wacky experiences (the riddler?? really?? iykyk). #sharefoodwithurhomiegang always

[lornaria-lore]

ScarletThunder, anyone? ❤️🤍

[svyatoiy]

do you uhhh… come here often ma’am?

that’s the worst pickup line i’ve ever heard (it would work on me)

[vipier-a]

❛  i  can  feel  your  heart  beating .  ❜

TWO BEASTS AT REST, DOCILE, TUCKED IN THE DEPTHS OF A CAVE CARVED INTO A MOUNTAIN FACE, AVOIDING THE DESERT HEAT. they have burrowed deeply enough that they have lost sight of the entrance, their chosen cavern lit only by a small fire flickering not far from them. despite the merciless sun scouring the sands beyond the cave's mouth, the chill in the depths of the cuts deep, such that it almost feels refreshing in comparison, requiring the use of their packed bedding – and enough to justify the additional use of body heat. not that tristan feels he has any particular need for a reason, other than the nature of them both as suspicious creatures more likely to snarl at a touch too gentle than willingly accept it. they are lethal enough to have earned plenty of individual attempts on their lives.

it isn't the first time @godwitch has reclined against his chest this way, not the first time they've found themselves entwined, innocently or otherwise. the witcher would claim that endless travel makes for strange bedfellows, but in truth, he finds it not to be strange at all, but rather, the logical progression of their circumstances. together, they create some inversion of the storybook tales in which valiant knights faithfully serve benevolent queens ; she, a beastly goddess, as beautiful as she is terrible, and he, the assassin's blade silent at her side, prepared to do as bid. for them, then, a restrained courtly love would stand to no reason. they hunger, and so they feast when they become ravenous, often after battle, eagerly consuming the blood of others from the canvas of each other's flesh. this sort of peace is rarer, a breath held amongst the chaos of the flight of the queen with no crown and her outcast sellsword.

his eyes do not open as she speaks, the warmth of her breath brushing against the flat of his chest with each word, but a distant hum escapes him deep in his throat, more a rumble than anything. he is not a creature predisposed to rest particularly, with senses perpetually heightened, predisposed to feverish dreams of past horrors. but for now, however briefly, he is docile, teeth tucked neatly behind his lips and metaphorical claws only pulling gently through her hair, against her scalp, like some pauper's imitation of a lover, of intimacy. as though he would know what it looked like, felt like, tasted like, if he tried. it is only after a long pause – long enough that it nearly seems he hadn't heard her – that he speaks, his voice a low rasp in his throat, not even loud enough to find the slightest echo in the wide chamber.

" did you think I had none, cold unfeeling wretch that I am? " keen enough ears might detect the slightest hint of amusement behind his words. his kind, if scattered and hardly allies amongst the various schools, all share a particular reputation which might lend itself to believe witchers lacked hearts as well as souls. but he knows that the dragoness knows better, as keen to the fictions in his myth as he is to hers. " they were meant to remove it after the trials. alas, that they forgot. " a dark chuckle escapes him, one that would sound sinister to most ears, although doubtlessly she has grown used to it by now. his fingers tighten in her hair, not enough to pull properly but to be firm, to tilt her head upward so that he can meet her eyes when he opens his, slitted and reptilian and keen even through the half dark. " have you a mind to tear it from my chest and eat it yourself? "

[svyatoiy-arch]

You can kiss me again.

    ❴  ❊ ˒  PROMPTS  ⊰   ACCEPTING!

nighttime had met its slow death; day summoned its sun, and twilight turned to dawn as streaks of light painted the awakening sky a myriad of blues, pinks, and oranges. birds rose from their nests to sing the humans from their slumber, and the sun saint watched, phlegmatic as she wished for the morning to stall, for time to cease its passing.

it was only at the loss of her lover’s hand in hers that she turned from the sight of her rising sun, the stoic look upon her face melting into a doeful expression ─ they had been through this goodbye, the temporary farewell they were cursed to forever repeat, so many times before & yet the hours of separation tore at her still. a goddess in the presence of an equal, and this was where she felt the most human she had ever been or ever would be.

❛❛ are you leaving me already? ❜❜ came her voice, teasing in nature though the way she followed in her retreating steps indicated the sun saint’s reluctancy to part ways. alina grasped her hand again, their entwined fingers at once falling back into a familiarly braided pattern, and pulled her back into her orbit. their lips slotted together, parting and closing in perfect harmony. pulling away only to fill her lungs with a deep breath, their foreheads touching.

AGAINST ALINA'S OWN MOUTH ( WITH WHAT SHE HAD LEARNED WAS A TEASING TONE ) THE LUNAR EMPRESS WHISPERED AN INVITATION SHE COULD NOT REFUSE. " YOU CAN KISS ME AGAIN. "

a quick bout of laughter bubbled from her chest, mirth and sunlight bright in her gleaming gaze. ❛❛ when evening comes, I will kiss you again. ❜❜ these words were not merely a promise, but an oath ─ with the might of the celestial she would make sure no dusk nor dawn would ever come to pass without the sun & moon married in embrace. ❛❛ I beg you to believe me when I say── if I could, ❜❜ she chanced a final kiss, leaning in just in time to feel the ghost of her lover's lips against hers before the moon at last disappeared beyond the horizon. ❛❛ I would kiss you every hour. ❜❜ with the sun firmly hung in the sky the temperatures rose to a comfortable warmth, yet in the moon's absence the lone celestial shivered.