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Skellington Closet

::Welsh Egypto-Archaeologist ::

:: Part-Time LabRat ::

:: Pixie:Witch:Cat ::

:: Tenny-Weeny Sycophant ::

demoniality:

"Satan"-Kalmakoff

demoniality:

"Satan"-Kalmakoff


The Witching Hour: Little Red Riding Hood
Once upon a time a little girl with a cloak as red as blood ventured into a forest as old as time itself. It was dark and wonderful, full of spirits, monsters, and magic. The little girl carried a basket with ripe fruit and delicious cakes, her cheeks were pink and round and she laughed following the path and picking up flowers.Once upon a time a little girl met the beast everyone feared and warned her about and yet she was not afraid. She took the knife out of her basket full of fruit and cake, and cut the beast’s heart out.
There’s a howl inside her and she wants to let it loose.She knows these woods, old as time itself, knows their secrets for she is one of them.Her red cape is stained with blood. The hood conceals dark circles under her eyes, teeth bared white and sharp.She’s a scarlet mirage, an apparition trapped among the trees, and the huntsman always finds her for he mistakes her beauty for innocence. She smiles and hands him fruit and the sweet juice runs down his mouth and beard. She comes closer and whispers: “There’s a beast in my heart and it scratches and scratches, and it hurts to keep it hidden”. They both smile and his ax falls on the ground when she twists the knife, his blood dripping from her fingertips and into the cloak.

The Witching Hour: Little Red Riding Hood

Once upon a time a little girl with a cloak as red as blood ventured into a forest as old as time itself. It was dark and wonderful, full of spirits, monsters, and magic. The little girl carried a basket with ripe fruit and delicious cakes, her cheeks were pink and round and she laughed following the path and picking up flowers.
Once upon a time a little girl met the beast everyone feared and warned her about and yet she was not afraid. She took the knife out of her basket full of fruit and cake, and cut the beast’s heart out.

There’s a howl inside her and she wants to let it loose.
She knows these woods, old as time itself, knows their secrets for she is one of them.
Her red cape is stained with blood. The hood conceals dark circles under her eyes, teeth bared white and sharp.
She’s a scarlet mirage, an apparition trapped among the trees, and the huntsman always finds her for he mistakes her beauty for innocence. She smiles and hands him fruit and the sweet juice runs down his mouth and beard. She comes closer and whispers: “There’s a beast in my heart and it scratches and scratches, and it hurts to keep it hidden”. They both smile and his ax falls on the ground when she twists the knife, his blood dripping from her fingertips and into the cloak.

wolftea:

all prices have been dropped a ton on items in the Hand and the Eye shop, and there are still a couple days left for the coupon code for 10% off of any purchase of 10.00 or more. coupon expires august 31st. type “BROKE” when checking out

https://www.etsy.com/shop/HandandtheEye?ref=pr_shop_more


"Death is not the worst… Can you imagine enduring centuries, experiencing each day the same futilities…"
Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979)

"Death is not the worst… Can you imagine enduring centuries, experiencing each day the same futilities…"

Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979)

fuckyeahpaganism:

Constellations (x)

Witchcraft is the recourse of the dispossessed, the powerless, the hungry and the abused. It gives heart and tongue to stones and trees. It wears the rough skin of beasts. It turns on a civilisation that knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.

Peter Grey - “Apocalyptic Witchcraft” (via usurpers)

Artemide.  19th.century. Francesco Hayez. Italian 1791-1882. oil/canvas.