「 hollowborn ✦ witch 」

Goodbye, Ichabod Crane. I curse the day you came to Sleepy Hollow

[thelastvantassel]

⋆⋅Ｋａｔｒｉｎａ Ｖａｎ Ｔａｓｓｅｌ⋅⋆  ⋆pinterest ┆musing tag┆ playlist ┆city⋆

Inspired by: wanda maximoff (Marvel), yennefer of vengerberg (The Witcher), lydia deetz (Beetlejuice), chise hatori (The Ancient Magus’ Bride) faceclaim: lily-rose depp dob: october 31 zodiac: scorpio occupation: wardmaker / curse-breaker in training birthplace: sleepy hollow orientation: bisexual song: “the curse” - agnes obel film: sleepy hollow (1999) education: ancestral witchcraft, bloodline wardcraft, concealment magic, curse theory, self-taught in ritual reconstruction temperament: melancholic-sanguine—soft-spoken, intuitive, emotionally perceptive MBTI: INFJ — “the veiled oracle” alignment: lawful good with shadowed edges abilities: ancestral magic, curse-sensing, blood-ward crafting, shadow-listening, dream-scrying hogwarts house: hufflepuff soul, ravenclaw mind. emoji: 🌙

༒︎present & past⊹ ࣪ ˖

character biography

taken connections ⊹ ࣪ ˖

ichabod crane – cursed tether / uneasy ally / truth she carries alone eamon wilde (the horseman) – ancestral wound / nightmare made flesh / name that never stops breathing riku park – fellow sentinel / shared silence / understands duty over desire donald duck – skeptical ally / blunt protector / trusts her magic more than she trusts herself

wanted connections ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⋆ the unburied truth someone who knows about the van tassel curse. maybe an archivist, a historian, a descendant of someone harmed by it. they carry knowledge she needs… or knowledge she fears. ⋆ the inheritor a young witch or magic-blooded student who begins manifesting curse symptoms. katrina becomes their reluctant mentor, terrified of repeating her ancestor’s mistakes.

[gina025]

Hauntingly peaceful

[thelastvantassel]

tracks to nowhere | open: 1/3⋅⋆

the storm had thickened by the time katrina turned onto the narrower road home.snow clung to the hem of her wool coat, the heavy brown fabric pulling tight around her shoulders. the basket of bundled herbs tucked carefully against her hip. the familiar scents of sage, juniper, dried rosemary should have been grounding. instead, they felt thin, almost swallowed by the cold. she was lost in her thought when she slowed. the path ahead..feeling wrong.

hoofprints pressed deep into the fresh snow cutting across the road at an angle that made no sense. they weren’t hurried or scattered. but each print sat heavy and with purpose, as if whatever had made them knew exactly where it was going. katrina crouched, careful not to disturb them, breath fogging and freezing at the edges. the snow around the prints had crystallized unnaturally hard, as though heat had been pulled from it instead of added. drag marks followed for several yards… and then stopped. a cold shiver ran down her spine as she straightened slowly as she noticed the shadow stretching across the snow behind her. fingers tightening around the handle of her basket as the herbs inside shifted with a soft rustle.

[oflightfoots]

an 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 for BARLEY LIGHTFOOT set in old elias 0 / 6 replies !!

———  the  drop  came  suddenly.  a  chill  in  the  air  that  had  been  there  before.  it  wasn't  gentle.  it  was  sharp,  blistering.  a  cold  snap  that  left  the  skin  buzzing  uncomfortable,  the  bones  aching  and  above  all  the  body  frozen  in  place. his  stomach  was  tantalize  by  the  sweet  aromas  that  filled  the  air.  barley  had  decided  to  leave  his  snowman  to  fend  for  himself  while  he  satiated  his  hunger  with  a  sweet  treat.  it  only  took  a  second  for  the  atmosphere  around  him  to  change.  the  path  before  him  no  longer  seemed  familiar.  it  caused  the  elf  to  stumble  a  bit.  ❛  hey  uh  ...  wasn't  this  the  way  to  the  cocoa  crawl  ?  i  could've  sworn  ...  but  now  i'm  not  so  sure.  ❜  his  teeth  began  to  chatter,  a  shiver  going  up  his  spine  as  he  turned  to  the  person  beside  him.

[thelastvantassel]

katrina felt the cold snap before she saw it. just in one heartbeat the air had been sharp. winter doing what winter always did. and the next. it was wrong. invasive. it slid beneath her coat and settled against her ribs, buzzing along her skin like a warning she hadn’t quite translated yet. she slowed when barley stumbled, eyes lifting from the frost creeping along the stones to the path ahead. it looked… familiar. and yet, somehow, not. the lantern light bent strangely through the falling snow, stretching shadows where they shouldn’t be...something was off.

"…it was," katrina said softly, answering his question after a beat. voice calm, but her gaze didn’t; moving from windows, rooftops, the narrowing street. taking stock. she stepped a little closer to him. "you didn’t take a wrong turn," she continued, lowering her voice as the wind pushed through the alley. "do you think we are lost?..it feels like the storm is making it harder for us to get home.."

[wannabegolden]

open starter (0/4). location: holiday market.

all of the new things that were happening in town offered opportunity, she had decided. though this place had made her feel more defeated than she had in... perhaps the entire length of her life, rumi knew that she could not let it prevent her from continuing to try to fight back against demons in one of the best two ways that she knew how: using her voice. people would be gathered naturally, this was the perfect opportunity to try to solidify it.

"free huntrix pop-up concert, come see us at the tree lighting ceremony!" rumi was handing out flyers from the thick stack in her hand to anyone who would take them. "we'll be covering all kinds of holiday classics!"

[thelastvantassel]

katrina had stopped near one of the vendor stalls, half-listening to a conversation about candied nuts, when the voice caught her attention. not a loud one. just… determined? she turned as the flyer was offered, hesitating only a second before taking it. "oh- thank you" she said, eyes dropping to read it. a pop-up concert. holiday classics. She huffed a soft, faint laugh, surprised.

"that’s very ambitious," she said, glancing back up with a small yet honest smile still across her lips. "this place gets… overwhelming..but i guess people do listen more this time of year.."

[olympiczervous]

The booth was warm, even if the wind wasn’t. A stack of mismatched mugs steamed beside Hercules as he poured another ladle of hot chocolate into a paper cup, carefully avoiding the mini-marshmallow avalanche waiting to happen.

“Careful,” he warned gently as he passed the drink to a shivering teen. “This stuff has a habit of disappearing too fast and burning your tongue.”

Herc wiped his hands on a towel tucked at his belt and glanced at the long line still waiting. He didn’t mind. In fact, something about this felt right, simple, steady, helpful. You didn’t need council chambers or enchanted swords to keep people warm.

“Next!” he called with a soft smile, reaching for the next cup. “Plain, peppermint, or gingerbread swirl?”

[thelastvantassel]

katrina stepped toward the booth with her hands tucked deep into her coat sleeves, breath fogging faintly in the sharp winter air. the festival lights glittered across the ground around them in soft colors,and somewhere behind her a string of bells chimed as children ran past, scarves trailing like banners. she hadn’t planned on stopping, she’d only meant to walk a bit longer, taking in the music and the lanterns but the cold had finally crept through her gloves and settled into her fingertips. the smell of hot chocolate drifted across her path, warm and inviting.

when the line moved and she reached the counter, she offered the man behind it a small, gentle smile. "hello," she said softly. "i was hoping something warm might undo the damage the wind has done to my hands." she glanced briefly at the steaming mugs, then met his eyes again. “what do you recommend?” she asked with curiosity

[mainlymirabel]

open event starter

who: mirabel and anyone ( 0 out of 3 taken ) where: ice-skating rink on the riverline when: just after nightfall

Wow! It was exactly as Mirabel had imagined it—as night descended over the ice rink, the glowing runes just…appeared beneath everyone’s feet! She couldn’t wait to take pictures once it really got dark.

Luisa had left the rink early this evening—complaining about how winter made it so easy to “let a workout routine go”. (Being the magically mighty being that she was, Luisa likely didn’t really need to worry about this. But if she was happy doing squats back at Casa Madrigal, then Mirabel was happy, too.) This left Mirabel on her own for the next hour…and in need of a skating buddy.

Unfortunately, “crashing into somebody else while examining one of the runes” was not how Mirabel intended to start talking to the other people there.

“Whoa! So sorry!” Mirabel got out as she lost her balance and fell to the side. Luckily, she was extremely bundled up in colorful winter clothing, which cushioned the fall…but was the other person okay?!

“Are you good?” Mirabel asked them sincerely, propping herself up on an elbow to check.

[thelastvantassel]

katrina had been focused on the rune, close enough to feel the faint warmth blooming beneath the ice when something collided with her side and sent her balance tilting. " mirable..careful.." the name left her without thinking, breath catching as she steadied herself and blinked through the surprise. mirabel had gone down in a soft, colorful heap beside her, scarves and mittens and snow-dusted wool all tangled from the fall.

katrina pushed a hand against the ice, repositioning her skates with slow, practiced movements. then she reached out hesitant at first, but steady offering her gloved hand to mirabel. "come here," she murmured, voice warm but still quiet. "let’s get you up before the cold claims you." she braced her legs and gently pulled, helping mirabel rise until they were both standing again, close enough for their breaths to mingle in the chilled evening air. katrina’s cheeks were pink some from wind and from the unexpected closeness, but she didn’t step back immediately.

"you startled me," she admitted softly, eyes drifting down to the rune glowing beneath their feet. "i thought i was the only one looking at these, and then suddenly...well. you..." a small, flustered laugh escaped her. "are you alright? the fall wasn’t too bad? was it?"

[ericseara]

holiday festivities event starter (00/05)

eric lingered near the edge of the underland market, hands shoved into his jacket pockets as the air buzzed with vendors barking deals and customers haggling hard enough to start small wars. neon signs flickered overhead, casting everyone in colors no human skin tone should naturally come in. he scanned the crowd, pretending to study a crate of glowing fruit while really watching the alleyways for anyone who looked a little too interested in disappearing. "oh, don't mind me.. just checking things out."

[thelastvantassel]

katrina hadn’t meant to wander this far. the underland market was louder than the above-city fairs, brighter in that artificial, neon signs buzzed overhead like insects made of light, casting her in shifting blues and sickly greens as she stepped around a stall selling knives that whispered when touched. she must have looked a little misplaced her soft dark blue cardigan and sun-warmed aura clashing violently with the underland's sharp corners and shadowed laughter because the man nearby glanced her way like he wasn’t sure if she needed directions or protection.

katrina paused beside him, fingertips brushing the edge of the crate. the fruit pulsed faintly, reacting to her without permission. she exhaled a slow breath; even here, the magic reached for her.

"i’m… a little far from where i meant to be," she admitted with a small, self-conscious smile. "the market above is gentler. less… neon." she gestured loosely at the flickering lights overhead, their glow catching in her eyes like reflections off riverwater. "i thought i recognized something from up there and followed it down here instead...seems like i might be a bit lost..” she tilted her head, studying him "you don’t look like you’re just browsing,"

[mainlymirabel]

Half of her was still in the flower shop where it had happened. The other half was actively looking at flowers. Both wished for something that, to Mirabel’s dismay, would never exist.

Mirabel had come from a minor mishap behind Minnie’s Flower Shop. One of the workers had been on a ladder and slipped, getting nothing more than what would be a nasty bruise but emerging from the incident a little shaken. A friend to the community, Mirabel (who had been at the neighboring store and overheard commotion) had rushed to the employee’s side and listened to his worries; “what if I’m not as stable as I think with something more serious?” he’d told her as she’d helped him fertilize new arrivals. “What if the world collapses under me?”

The worry was valid, was real. Mirabel had let it chase her all the way to the flea market, where she hoped to pick up unique new fabrics to turn into skirts and hair ties. In a daze, she’d ended up letting her emotions lead the way…and was currently doing nothing more than looking at more flowers (because flowers were the imagery inside all her thoughts as she ruminated).

Mirabel would’ve traded anything for a magic that would grant stability. A magic that made people feel as if they could truly be secure somewhere—and do whatever they wanted within that place; a magic that felt like honest confidence.

But security—stability—was hard to come by. Mirabel moved from the flower stall to a stall filled with trinkets and herbs, and she idly thought, Maybe stability can be built, as she reached to run her hands over a random herb bundle.

Don’t touch that.

Mirabel was surprised, but grateful. She drew her hands back and snapped into reality—wow, the flea market was loud today—and she listened as the stranger explained the truth behind these innocuous-seeming dried herbs.

Grieving.

“Maybe that’s just like Elias,” Mirabel found herself murmuring.

Making eye contact with the woman, she quickly explained: “I mean, what you’re saying about the herbs—that’s what I’ve been thinking about our community’s lack of stability all afternoon. We lost our leader, right? And now we don’t know where we belong, what we are, how to behave. Without stability—something solid beneath your feet—it’s hard to not be afraid. Or, in this case…”

Mirabel looked back at the herbs, which, though seemingly normal to her untrained eye, had won her sympathy.

“...just…feel bad. Just grieve.”

Mirabel tried to chuckle, to lift the mood she’d darkened. “But I’m somebody who overthinks all the city’s problems—big and small. This all started because somebody got a bruise.”

She extended her hand to the woman, smiling. “Thanks for helping me out there,” she told her; “I’m Mirabel Madrigal. You’re so…wise.”

[thelastvantassel]

the yarrow’s trembling had become a faint, rhythmic pulse beneath katerina’s palm, but it wasn’t what held her attention anymore. mirabel’s words..the spilling of worry, sweetness, and that startling depth of thought threaded into the noise of the flea market until everything around them seemed to dull.

katerina actually inhaled at that, a soft, surprised breath she didn’t quite disguise in time. her gaze flicked up, wide for a heartbeat before she smoothed it with a small faint embarrassed laugh. "i..wise" she paused "that’s… not something people tend to call me." her fingers hovered before finally accepting mirabel’s offered hand. the warmth of it grounded her more effectively than any sigil or charm. she curled her fingers gently around mirabel’s slowly."katerina van tassel," she said, voice steadier now, but softened in a way she didn’t offer often. "i think you may be kinder than your city gives you room to be." the herbs shivered again, as if acknowledging the truth laid bare between them. katerina released mirabel’s hand only when she had to, her touch lingering a half-second longer.. a reflex of reassurance.

her eyes turned back to the bundle. "you saw it clearly," she murmured. "what grief feels like?” her thumb brushed the stem without disturbing it, as though comforting a frightened creature. "some people pretend not to feel things shift under their feet. you… notice." she glanced up again, expression warm and soft. "that’s a kind of wisdom too. even if you don’t call it that."

“just like this herb. untethered. just waiting for something or someone to steady it again." soft breeze toyed with the edge of her hair as she spoke, gazing lifting. "but grieving things still grow. sometimes stronger. sometimes truer." her lips curved, tender in a way she rarely let surface. "and thank you," she added, quieter. "for the compliment… even if it caught me terribly off guard."

[thelastvantassel]

⋆⋅ ｗａｒｄｍａｋｅｒ ａｔ ｔｈｅ ｆｌｅａ ｍａｒｋｅｔ | open: 2/4⋅⋆

the flea market buzzed with noise. vendors shouted prices, children wove between tables, and the clatter of old trinkets and antique metal clinked together. it was all too much movement, too loud with the shouts, and there were too many items that stirred memories...

katrina stood beneath a sun-faded canopy, her fingers drifting over a crate of dried herbs and half-forgotten talismans. someone had clearly mixed mundane stock with magical remnants, and the wards inked along her forearms began to hum in response. it was a low, uneasy vibration beneath her skin, but it was clear that something there was wrong. not dangerous, not yet-..just mourning, in one way or another. she kept her eyes focused on a bundle of dried yarrow, its stem trembling minutely despite the still air. this was a sign only she would notice, and the type only she would understand.

footsteps stopped beside her as someone reached out, curious and unaware. without turning, katrina’s voice slipped into the space between them, soft as a draft. “don’t touch that,” she murmured, her hand hovering over the herb bundle, but not quite touching it. “it’s… grieving.” only then did she look up, eyes calm but undeniably knowing. “its lost its owner recently,” she added quietly. “and it hasn’t decided who it belongs to next…”

[thelastvantassel]

⋆⋅Ｋａｔｒｉｎａ Ｖａｎ Ｔａｓｓｅｌ– tag drop ⋅⋆

in character⊹ ࣪ ˖

⋆ic: quiet witch in a loud city ⋆ic: soft voice sharp magic ⋆ic: kill the chaos find the balance ⋆ic: the curse listens first ⋆threads: wards whisper warnings ⋆writing: gentleness with teeth

headcanon & inner world⊹ ࣪ ˖

⋆hc: blood remembers what the body forgets ⋆hc: the curse has her pulse ⋆thoughts: grief woven into magic ⋆musings: soft hands, inherited horrors

aesthetic & visual⊹ ࣪ ˖

⋆mood: moonlight over old wounds ⋆aesthetic: yarrow, chalk, and quiet ruin ⋆fc: lily-rose depp as katrina ⋆visuals: shadows leaning to listen

relationships & web⊹ ࣪ ˖

⋆connections: tangled fates & half-truths ⋆dynamics: trust written in sigils ⋆web: the tether pulls both ways ⋆ties: legacy stitched into bone

tasks & craft⊹ ࣪ ˖

⋆wards under her breath ⋆cursebreaking in progress ⋆sigilwork & subtle warnings ⋆open threads at the market

[rosies]

FRANKENSTEIN (2025) dir. Guillermo del Toro

[animationtvfilm]

SLEEPY HOLLOW (1999)