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#Little witchling
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I am BEGGING Someone PLEASE ask me about my ocs ive been bouncing all my oc lore on my brother and i think i broke him
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pergaminaa · 2 months
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One day, when she was seven, little witchling #1 called Dorian to the playroom to show him something.
In there, little witchling #1 proceeded to show him how if she calls little witchling #2 (14 months old) in a particular tone, little witchling #2 responds by rolling her eyes (which makes her older sister cackle which makes the baby laugh in turn)
Dorian is laughing at the adorable display, on the outside.
With his infant learning how to roll her eyes, he is aware that he needs to fend off against three pairs of eyes now and he isn’t sure he can be immune to that. He never was, not from the start and certainly not now.
He just didn’t think little witchling #2 would be joining the other team so early on (it was inevitable but he thought he had more time).
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ourlittleforever · 1 year
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Rem calling me his little witchling.... ♥️✨
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witchembrace-a · 10 months
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part four .................. 4/???
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spen-still-spinning · 2 years
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I was thinking about enchanting and thinking about enchanting a necklace for protection, but then I treat it just like my weighted stuffies. They comfort me because I love them and gave them that energy, and that's kind of like enchanting.
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stardustpinkart · 2 years
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Stardust: A Pagan Children's Book From The Beautiful Heart of Ginger Ackley
Hello, Hello! I know it’s been a while since you’ve heard from me, but I wanted to share something very special with you today! Don’t worry, it’s not a course or anything like that! Cue the relieved sighs. A very, very special lady that is near and dear to my heart is sharing a Pagan children’s book she’s written, and I wanted to tell you about it. It’s pretty difficult to find specifically…
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teanix · 1 year
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Going through witchy blogs from a list of witchy blogs compiled by the first witchy blog I found is...an experience.
Like on the one hand, is it nice knowing that a blog that meant so much to me is still around, albeit inactive, rather than disappeared into the void? Yes.
On the other hand, I sort of, at first glimpse, felt like I was peeking at graveyards. Places where I shouldn't tread for fear of risking disturbing someone who was finally at rest. I'll admit that in the 40ish minutes or so between my first post and this one, I kiiiind of wanted to cry.
But I'm trying to look at this in much the same way as I'm looking at the book that's my current fixation: these are not graveyards, these are archives left to me and you and anyone else who happens upon them. These are things left to us and that we may one day pass on. It's proof that these people were here. History.
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stormbornwitch · 2 months
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This is going to make me sound like a cantankerous old bitch, but meh, I'm gonna say it anyway.
Witchcraft is too commercialised nowadays.
It's great to see so many witchcraft books and supplies available. I can walk into kmart or big w and find witchcraft books, tarot cards, and crystals now.
The problem, though, is that everything that's readily available to the masses (i.e. the first thing witchlings may interact with) is all so watered down to be socially acceptable that it gives a warped view to new practitioners while being simultaneously useless to experienced practitioners.
As much as I love how personalised the craft is, I genuinely wish more experienced witches published their personal grimoires and gnosis. I would love to see what others are working on/what works for them.
So here's my plea: if you're an experienced witch (I.e. practising for over 5 years and working your own path), please share a little titbit of what you're currently working/researching/crafting.
☆Marci☆
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tothestarsinvelaris · 3 months
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Dorian "I'll bleed whatever color you tell me to" Havilliard
Dorian "he'd make her beg for the first time in her long life" Havilliard
Dorian "willing to let a little cruelty into the bedroom" Havilliard
Dorian "invisible fingers down her neck" Havilliard
Dorian "as tempting as seeing you naked and chained might be" Havilliard
Dorian "I don't think you can handle the sort of things I need, witchling" Havilliard
Dorian "I am never begging for anything again in my life" Havilliard
Dorian "I want to taste every inch of you." Havilliard
Dorian "magic gently pinning her wrists to the mattress" Havilliard
Dorian "I need to hear you say yes" Havilliard
Dorian "I suggest you listen" Havilliard
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simpjaes · 3 months
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personally im a munch sunghoon TRUTHER so the concept of incubus sunghoon that loooves eating pussy makes me insane... like he doesnt even need to fuck or anything he gets his energy from muff diving. just a thought
warning: traditional incubus, non-con/dub-con, somnophilia, breeding kink, pregnancy.
trad!incubus sunghoon, where you wake up one night drenched in more than just sweat.
Sticky and messy, your body throbbing as if you've been touched awake. As if...you're still being touched. It's not painful, but it's uncanny how searing the feeling between your legs is. You can feel the tensing of something against you, the flicking of your swollen clit by nothing more than a barely visible shadow until--Oh, is that...a man?
You squint hard, your legs trying to close but being met with something blocking the movement. You rub your eyes as you try to make out the image of who, or what has woken you up this way.
A stranger, one you've never seen in your life but still you somehow fall into that darkened and piercing gaze as he...licks between your legs with his eyes flicking upwards toward you.
Sunghoon, a notorious incubus who visits women at night when he deems fit, name never mentioned or even known to anyone of the earthly plane but- always a welcome entity with or without realizing it's reality and not so much a dream.
In his experience, many incubus demons tend to be quite unpleasant to look at, which is why he does this. The form of a man, one so beautiful no woman would fight or panic. They'd give in, over and over again, until he sucks the soul straight out of them along with that sweet slick and he's allowed to embed an evil little offspring.
Sunghoon grew bored of the forceful acts after the first four hundred centuries. He likes it when a woman of earth yearns for him. To the point he's even given up the immediate fucks for hours of foreplay. His body reacts the same as it does when he's fucking a woman senseless as it does when he's got his mouth on the sweetest spot.
You're one of these women to him. This is the first time he's ever been rough enough to wake you of your slumber. Typically, his visits end in a nice little too-wet dream for his objects of desire. Sometimes, he wakes them on purpose. Other times, he wakes them entirely without intention.
He just...couldn't help it when it came to you. Time and time again he's paid visits here, slurping up every ounce of your sleepy desire until he's forced to leave upon the rising sun. Always satisfied with the act of releasing his demonic cum without so much as using his cock. Just his mouth, it's all he fucking needs.
And Oh, to feed his sons and daughters to you, to create little witchlings and devil boys from the very flesh of you for doing this to him.
He'd stare for hours at your sleeping form, drooling and tasting every tiny bit of your skin before devouring you from the center. Sliding his tongue so deep, so hot inside of you. When you sleep, you respond well.
Tonight though, as you stir, you respond even better. To the point of searing your fingertips trying to grab hold of his hair as if you want more.
"More?" Sunghoon speaks for the first time in centuries to a so-called victim, his voice deep, rumbled, and echoing off of the night against your window.
You feel the voice hit you right in the clit, followed by a sharp nibble against it before a...forked tongue fondles its way back inside of you.
You whimper and nod, thrusting up against the solid-formed shadow of a handsome devil.
More is what you want.
And more is what you'll get.
More than you'd have ever expected. More than you can handle. More, more, fucking more.
Until you're waking up in the morning, well-rested yet trembling from your intense "dream."
Only, it isn't long until your body swells. Plump, searing feelings in your belly.
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heartfullofleeches · 11 months
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Perfectly Sweet
Yandere Candy Harem + Gender Neutral Candy Witch Reader
Word Count: 10.7k
Summary: After a tragic incident resulting in the loss of your bakery, you awake in a land of sweets desperately searching for a way to return to a time and place that has abandoned you.
Warnings: Light body horror, [candy] cannibalism, hallucinations
A/N: A piece A few months in the makings. I hope you all enjoy :)
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There once was a witch.
The first of her kind.
“A candy witch? What a silly idea!” 
 She was sure to disagree. 
“It’s my magic. Shouldn’t I have a say in its use? If I can’t do for myself first, I haven’t the heart to do a thing for anyone at all!” 
The witchling was the youngest in a lineage of powerful witches dating back to the founding days of their cozy little town. Her mother was the town healer in her prime and her mother’s great-grandmother fertilized the ground for which their town was built upon. The little witch had big shoes to fill, but neither fret nor shied away from what fate had decided. No – she outright rejected it, and sought to fill her dreams and goals much closer to home - right in the pit of her bottomless stomach. 
If the girl had one claim to fame before her prime, it had to be her enormous sweet tooth. She started her days with two spoonfuls of sugar, and three more by noon. She was not tied to the restriction of the human diet and did as she pleased to satisfy her endless craving. 
“Even tragedy can be sweet if it’s paired with the right treat.” – A saying she swore to remain true to, but behind closed doors the little witch could not carry her own words to heart. As the days of her coronation drew near, she became aware of the whispers around town – how self and cruel she was for abandoning tradition and her people. The kind faces she’d known all her years slowly turned spiteful and bitter – spurning her ambitions, and her turning her back on the community that raised her. The young witch wore a brave face, but behind closed doors she was not as bold as she seemed. She cried and cried, swallowing sugar and honey to ease her pain.
Due to constant ridicule and mockery, the little witch would have given up on everything had it not been for that one person.
On the eve of a new moon, there was a knock at her window. The young child of the town baker came to her with a task capable for her talents alone. With an influx of orders their parents had forgotten to bake a cake for their child’s birthday. Used to the treatment they did not wish to go another year without celebration and fled in the dead of night to the only source who could aid in their troubling times. 
The little witch could hardly hide her annoyance. Lack of a party was one thing, but no celebratory desserts to make up for it? No cake? Pie? Not even sweet bread? What fools the human had the misfortune of calling their parents. Could their kind do nothing without the help of hers? 
Against her own volition, she acted from the kindest of her heart and sought to fulfill their desperate plea. The little witch brought the young baker into her home, and through the night the two created the most extravagant birthday cake the baker nor anyone in town had ever seen. The excitement they expressed wasn’t held by them alone. The little witch had more fun baking with them than she ever had with a member of her blood. The gratitude and joy on the human’s face was something she had never seen before. Something strange. It made her feel odd. They must have slipped poison into her dish, but even that didn’t seem right. 
They treated her as a lifelong friend though their alliance began that very night where it should have ended. Being with that human gave her a toothache unlike any sugary treat could. As their bond grew, the witch would gradually learn that what she tasted that fateful eve was the start of something true. That human cracked the icy cage sheltering her fragile heart and woke her to new desires. 
She wanted to see them smile again. She wanted to make others happy in hopes it’d give her that same strange feeling in her stomach again. She’d never feel that exact  spark from anyone besides her new found friend, but the warmth in her chest was powerful to keep her newfound goals onward. 
The little witch and the baker’s child were inseparable from that day on. The pair grew as one - perfecting the recipes passed down to the young baker and adding a few of their own to the mix. They shared their creations with the town to prove the witch’s dreams were true as any other. Many still opposed, but they could not turn a blind eye to the duo’s efforts. The day of her awakening came and the young witch remained true to her heart – supported by her dearest friend who created an entire buffet of sweets to celebrate their second happiest day together.
Balancing magic and her culinary skills, the then adult witch unlocked feats far beyond that of her ancestors. A witch’s heart was their most powerful tool, and hers was filled with the love she held for sweets, her town, and the baker who changed everything for her. They flourished right alongside her into a kind, strong hearted individual, and later took over their parents' bakery as was tradition in their family. Just as she owed her success to them, they could do little without the aid of their favorite witch and invited her to take ownership with them. She’d be a fool to refuse their offer.
Perfecting her craft in all corners, the witch discovered what wonders her sweets could truly possess with a sprinkle of magic – some more groundbreaking than others, but nonetheless spectacular. Cupcakes that turn hair the same color as their frosting. Hard candies that could cure most illnesses. Cookies that would grant the eater’s truest wish with a single bite. She created an entire house made of sugar and sweetness for her and her dearest friend to live in. The townspeople who relied on the witch’s magic were amazed by the fruit of her hard labor, and the baker couldn’t be prouder which made the witch happier beyond compare. They noticed how hard she worked and only wished there was more they could do for her. The demands of the people piled in by the day, and though she wore a smile everyday they could see the cracks. The witch merely laughed off their worries, and carried on as usual. 
She was happy. They were happy. Everyone in the whole town was happy – but the happy days wouldn’t last forever unless the baker did something to aid the woman they loved. 
Rumors floated around town of normal humans becoming powerful witches over time. They say it only took a brave heart, a dedicated mind, and a wish. What people didn’t was that there was a fourth element involved. The second most important in a witch’s survival.
A strong body.
The baker pleaded with the witch to allow them to learn magic beside her. She had never been able to say no to them. The baker was a natural. Once she deemed them ready to practice, the human would master spells even she had difficulty with. It was no surprise to her considering their passions were one in the same, and if anyone was truer to their ambitions than her it was them. Together, the two were unstoppable. Untouchable. They worked off each other’s weaknesses and knew the other better than they knew themselves.
Which is why the witch was the first to notice. 
It began with a cough. The weather had grown quite chilly so neither thought much of it. A few of the witch’s homemade remedies and they felt good as new. Then - they began sleeping in. They went under spells of fatigue from the littlest tasks. Soon enough, they couldn’t even hold a spoon. 
The witch tried every spell in the book to save them. She took on the manning the shop alone so they were able to rest. It was the loneliest she had felt in years, but she’d do anything to save the human she loved. In the end, it was all for nothing. 
They died in their sleep while she was away from home – fulfilling the wishes of others while hers died alone at home.
The witch did everything she could.
She cried.
She begged.
She ate till her stomach felt like it was going to burst. 
To ease the pain, to bring them back - but even she could not raise the dead.
The cookies she shoved down her throat tasted bland and stale. Nothing was sweeter than the kisses the baker placed to her cheek every morning. She never got to tell them. She never had the chance to express her true feelings.
The witch screamed. 
Tore her hair out and cursed whatever horrible force that bound her to this fate. Made her weak. 
Please….
She cried over and over. 
Take me instead.
Don’t leave me here all alone.
 I can’t do this without you.
You said you’d never leave me.
Why?...
Please…
DON’T LEAVE ME! 
The townspeople gave her time to grief. It was the only mercy they gave. The knocking began. Their whispers slipped beneath her door. They asked her for more. She’d given them everything. Her heart, her love, her sweet, foolish baker- yet they still wanted more.
Selfish.
Greedy.
Cruel.
That’s all their kind had ever been. They took and took until there was nothing left. No… There was still one thing. She wasn’t going to let them take the shattered pieces. She refused to let them walk over her as they had trampled those before her. She’d take back everything they stole and more. She’d create a world catered to her desires. A place made of cinnamon and sugar, with subjects molded from the same ingredients and just as sweet. Creations who’d love and obey her for the rest of eternity. What the witch didn’t know…
Was they’d betray her worst of all. 
.
.
.
“Alright…. I think that’s enough for one year….”
“Awww.. but we nearly reached the end this time, didn’t we?”
“Yes, but – are you really sure this is something you want to hear on your birthday? It’s a pretty tale…” 
“Of course! I want to know everything about you, Sweets. Even old fairy tales in older, duster cookbooks.” 
“Hahaha, Fine….. Stay with me another year and we’ll finish it – I promise.”
“Better wish real hard then…. Who knows how many we have left.” 
.
.
.
“Help me…..”
.
.
.
“Help!” 
Smoke pads your lungs. Hands – hardened and calloused from years of labor pound and claw pathetically against solid wood. In lighter years, visitors would joke it’d take a stampede to tear down the door of your bakery. Fresh tears sting your wet eyes at the painful resurgence of memory. You press your apron tighter over your mouth and nose - sucking what precious oxygen remains as you prepare for what may be your last plea.
"Please, help me! I didn't do it!"
You know they can hear you. Over the crackling pops of roaring flames and the walls caving in around, your voice reigns louder than all. You hear their chants grow louder to drown you out. Accusations of a crime you'd lay your own life before than commit.
"I didn't hurt them! I'd never hurt them…. They were all I had. Please don't do this to us!..... At least let me say goodbye…."
Their chorus continues. Doubt seeps into the shouts of many at your desperate cries, but their verdict remains the same. 
witch….
Witch….
WITCH. 
There's no use. None of them will change their mind. If anyone tries to help you now they'll surely be tied to the same fate. Blinking away tears and the burn from your eyes with one final look at those who had forsaken you, you turn on your heels - rushing back into the flames devouring everything you once knew and loved. There had to be another way out. Every entrance had been board up, but… the windows-
Acting swiftly, you hurry into the kitchen - swiping the satchel used for your deliveries from its hook right before the entire rack is brought down by falling degree.You move as fast as your feet would carry - quickly grabbing everything that wasn't nailed to the floor and small enough to not weigh you down. Jars. Tools. Bottles. Anything to help you restart elsewhere, and remind you what you once had - no matter how much it hurts. 
Stuffing towels and broken dreams into your bag, the growing strain on your shoulder tells you enough is enough. Only one more thing left to grab. Your legs wobble as you approach the counter. Rubble and ash fall around you as you reach out. It's still open to that page. There's dough and flour beneath your nails - same as when you were kids just playing around in the kitchen. You swore they loved those cookies more than your friendship. Still you made them every year-
The batch of freshly made treats sits right beside it - packed away in that star shaped tent saved just for their special day. You were just about to make the frosting when they came. When the news was broken to you in the most ways. You barely had the chance to process it all before they started pointing fingers. All the ingredients are right there. All the memories. All the pain. You realize now there is no escape from this - not here. 
You pick a cookie from the tent - your entire world crumbling around you as you raise your hand to your mouth. Flames lick the ceiling as you take a bite.
Please… take me far away from here. 
A loud snap re-alerts you to your surroundings. A small groan is all that warns of what to come. All at once, the floor beneath you caves in. Feeling the ground disappear from under your feet, your arms instinctively reach for the book on the counter as you plummet. Falling with increasing speed, you clutch the book to your chest as the world above is swallowed by the darkness blanketing your weightless body - a silent scream cast into the void. Smoldering wood joins you as the ceiling to your baker and home finally collapses under the pressure. The last thing you see before your body hits solid ground is the same starless night you've fallen asleep beneath your whole life. .
.
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"Mmm, so good. These are your best yet!"
"That's what you always say-"
"Because your treats just keep getting better and better. You're amazing, Sweets!" 
"You know, I never figured out why you call me that."
"Isn't it obvious? You make the best desserts in the whole world! Way better than mama's - I swear it's like she mixed up the sugar jar with the salt one." 
"Haha, I guess that makes a little sense-" 
"But - there is one other reason… " 
"What is it?"
"I think that's pretty obvious too…You're the sweetest person I've ever met."
 .
.
.
"Mm…. Ngh…"
Your head feels like it's split in two. You can't move - every limb stiff as stone. Darkness still surrounds you. Even breathing is a labored task that siphons all your strength for a single breath. Breathing…
You open your eyes - clamping them almost immediately as bright light beads down into them - assaulting your shot sense with its rays.
"Ach.." Steadying the air flow through your chest, you wiggle your fingers and toes - channeling circulation to the rest of your extremities as your heels and fingertips dig at soft earth. Rolling onto your side, you push yourself off the ground and upright; the weight of your satchel hindering your movement. You blink a few times to let your eyes adjust to the environment, rubbing at the sore joints in your neck. 
"What… happened?"
As soon as the words leave your mouth it all rushed back to you. The fire. The fall. Your eyes dart around, perplexed by the lack of ash and dirt walls around you. Grass scratches your bare legs as you pull them to your chest. The sun's harsh rays beat down on you from above. Tree leaves rustle in the strangely syrupy scented wind. Footsteps imprint in the soft earth - trailing away from where you lie. Did… someone save you? Something feels off. You draw a hand to your face; the freedom of your arms alerting your senses to a troubling particument - more troubling than the one you've found yourself in now. 
Your book. Where is it?
Where is it. Where is it. 
The strength in your limbs replenishes at such speeds it gives you a headrush as you spring to your knees. You sweep your hands across the dirt floor around you, searching the barren land around you before you lose your mind wandering through the forest. Dirt catches beneath your nails as they scratch at the soft earth. The texture of the soil - it doesn't feel right. It squishes between your fingers, rich and moist like it is after fresh rainfall, but there hasn't been rain in weeks nor does the scent of rain linger in the air. All that resides is that sweet stench. A whiff of cocoa passes in the gentle breeze as you wipe sweat from your forehead. 
Your legs fold beneath you like a stack of cards as you attempt to stand. Using a nearby tree as a crutch, you pull yourself to your feet - stumbling on wobbling knees and driving your shoulder into the bark of the tree as you fall against it. A nut wrestles free of its branch from the force and lands directly on your head.
"Ouch!" You rub the sore spot of your skull, looking down and drawing your foot to vent your frustration on the pour seedling-
"Huh?" 
You plant both feet steady on the ground. Where what should have been a seed sits a bright red candy wrapper nestled safely in the grass. Curious, you pick it up- inspecting the foil casing. There's nothing of note besides a star pattern printed right where the seams meet. You wedge your nail beneath the fold, peeling back the wrapper to reveal a piece of candy with a similar crimson color to its outer layer. It fits between your fingers no bigger than a small apple. Drool dampens your lips as your image shines in its reflection. You hadn't had a single thing to eat since breakfast and even then you only ate enough to last you for the period rather than the long day of work ahead of you. Popping the candy into your mouth, you bite down without a second thought. 
Solid and firm on the outside, the candy bursts like the gooey filling of warm pie filling under the pressure of your teeth. Nutmeg and cinnamon overwrite your senses of taste and smell, followed swiftly by the taste of baked apple coated in a sugary glaze. It's been a while since someone has asked you to make an apple pie. For a moment, you think of making one when you return home before it hits you have no home to go back to. You're not even sure where it once stood. It's clear by now you are not where home used to be. Then where are you?
Snap!
Collecting - a twig snaps somewhere off behind you. You turn your head in the direction of the sound. "Hello?"
No one answers your call. Without making a sound, a figure steps out into the tree lining. Lanky and bent at an odd angle; standing just enough into the shade and bushes all you could see was below their chin. Their skin is an odd shade of pink; likeness akin to freshly chewed bubblegum. Couldn't be a sunburn, but you chalk it up to be a trick of the sun. A bright red bow wraps tightly around their neck, poking out from the collar of the puffy sleeve white shirt they wore beneath a striped, chestnut colored vest. 
"Hello….." 
Their voice was low in pitch and wet - revoltingly sweet and syrupy thick just like the air; almost drowning in their chest as they spoke.You swallow your nerves as you pose your dry lips to speak. "Excuse me, but I think I'm lost…. Have… have you seen a book anywhere?"
The figure tilts their head, twin, bright pink pig tails dangling from the sides of their head - drooping over their shoulders like melting wax. Even the angle of their neck is off. How can it bend at that sharply?
"Would you…. like some taffy?" 
You quickly toss the half-eaten fruit in your age as you take a step back. "I think sugar is the last thing I need right now-"
The figure stills for a moment - calculating their next words carefully. 
"Would you… like some taffy?~" 
A tiny giggle erupts from their chest. "No, I already said that. Look, I really need to-"
"Are you looking for this?..." 
The stranger pulls a rectangular item from the bushes - aged leather cover barely intact with its spine. You notice that two fingers on their left hand appear to be stuck together, pinky finger nowhere to be seen. Cautiously, you take a step forward, extending a hand. 
"Yes… That's exactly what I'm looking for..  May I please have it?
"I'll give it to you if you do something for me…"
"Please, it's very important."
"It's been so long since I've had company… it won't take too much off your time"
You chew at your lips. "What do you need me to do?"
"Come closer…I just want to get a good look at you. You're so pretty from afar"
You take a step forward. Just grab the book and run.
"Closer…"
Another. 
"closer." 
You stand right in front of them. You make a grab for your book, but their reflexes are quicker. The figure grabs you, locking you to their chest in an iron tight grip. Their head rests on your shoulder as they stroke their longer fingers down the length of your back - humming with a softness foreign to their tone before then. You bring your arms up to hug them back. It's then, at a close proximity, you're able to see the large chunk of flesh ripped from their neck.
"Thank you…." 
Thin digits run up your arm and face, stroking the line of your bottom lip as they giggle softly. You cringe as a hand latches onto your chin - prying your mouth open.
"Now, eat up~"
Before you have time to react, the creature shoves two of its fingers into your mouth - palm slamming into your chin and locking your jaws around their skin. Opening your eyes, you're met with the swirling insanity of their orbs as your teeth sink into their flesh. Spiraling red and white irises like the swirls in peppermint candies. Their lips seem to almost be melting together - a small hole torn through the outer wall of their left cheek. Crimson blush paints their cheeks - an impossible wide smile reveals cherry red teeth.
You squirm and struggle with all your might - attempting to wrestle yourself from their grip, but their hold is too strong. Their skin melting against the heat of yours makes escape all the more distant. Your teeth slice through the meat of their fingers like hot butter as you're forced to bite down. Their skin doesn't break like normal flesh. Queasiness hits your stomach like a rock as they're completely severed from seemingly non-existent bone. Even worse, you feel the severed digits inch their way towards the back of your throat. Tears prick your eyes as their flesh sticks to your teeth. You try to scrap it off with your tongue, only smearing it into your gums and against the roof of your mouth. Expecting the copper taste of blood - the flavor that bursts on your taste buds unlocks a core memory in your mind from your childhood. 
It's taffy. 
Cherry taffy.
You'd recognize that chewy taste and texture anywhere. The fiend notices the flicker of familiarity in your eyes as your muscles temporarily ease from the confusion. Their bizarre smile stretches as you chew at their flesh almost by reflex - swallowing them near whole. More fits of laughter bubble from their throat as a bubbling warm settles in your chest, spreading throughout.
"Tastes good, doesn't it? I knew you would like me once I saw that page in your book. Humans like candy after all..."
Your limbs lock up as they had when you woke as that warmth spreads throughout your body, creeping back up your throat and out your mouth in a tiny hiccup of laughter that has the taffy creature grinning from ear to ear. Your heart hammers against the shaking cage of your chest - laughter echoing from every corner of the forest. It's soon you realize the laughter is your own coupled with the fiend's cackling shrieks and the far off rattles of the trees.
"Your voice is so pretty… I like you..  I like you!.. Hey, you'll eat more of me, right? Candy is supposed to be eaten by humans. Are you listening?" 
You try - but everything that comes out of their mouth is so funny you can't hear a thing over your laughter.  What's happening? Lost in the swirling spirals of their eyes, the rawness of your throat barely registers in your weary mind as giggles are yanked and pulled from you. The convulsions in your stomach built into a deep ache in your abdomen. The tears in your lashes pour down your face - caught by a sticky tongue that leaves a trail of pink slick up your cheek. 
"Oh!- Giving me a treat? You're too kind… please don't cry… I'll let you rest for now. I'd hate for you to get sick… see you soon…." 
Your body falls back to that weightless, floating state. You can't tell if you're standing, fallen over, or something else entirely. The trees close around you - snuffing what little air passes through your chest. Your jaws hang slack as a hand reaches out from the horde. Your lips close around fluffy air as your vision fades to black out once more. 
.
.
.
"Ta-da!"
Fire snaps and pops within the confines of a handmade pit. In the flames, you see the two of you as children - piling books on top of chairs to steal the matchbox their parents hid in a cabinet too tall for either of you to reach. Where you excelled beyond your years elsewhere, they had always been a master at building the perfect campfire among other things. They were so proud of their skills. Crickets chirp and stars twinkle brilliantly in the pale blue night sky…
Stars?...
"One S'more hot off the stick - courtesy of your bestest friend in the whole wild world."
They take a bite out of theirs, gooey marshmallow fluff oozing from the crackers. They sport a toothy smile, burnt fluff sticking to their lips and teeth. They chipped a front tooth on a jawbreaker right after it had grown in when you were little - yet their smile is without imperfection. They lost the roundness in their face and shape the person next to you has as their condition got worse. While their body failed, their hair and skin never got that pale either - nor did they have horns. Short, stubby little horns peeking from fluffy white tufts of hair framing their chubby, freckled cheeks. It's not them, but at the same time your mind clicks the familiar pieces of a night similar to this and for you that's all it takes. The heat of the fire kisses away your tears. 
A bright blue blanket keeps you joined at the shoulder with them. Tiny yellow dots mirror the shining stars hanging over you. 
"Mmm… s'mores are so good… Hm? What's wrong? We can't all be talented bakers, I'm trying my best here. You look like you've seen a ghost!" 
Tightness grips at your chest. Despite their appearance, it's still their voice if not a bit softer than you recall. "Addie…. You…." 
Their smile falls - sad, tired eyes drooping behind heavy lids. Their voice mellows into a tranquil whisper of what it once was. If it weren't for the stress and the fact you were already dreaming you might've drifted off to sleep as they spoke. "I know…. I just wanted you to have a good dream… I like this place, but you shouldn't be here right now. Maybe someday in the near future you can show it to me again and we can talk more about this.. Addie person."  
"Who are you?"
"I'll tell you when we meet in person. Can you do me a favor when we do? I think my blanket fell off me, but I had such a nice time here with you I don't think I'll wake up anytime soon.. I'm a little cold now, so can you please tuck me back in?" 
"I'll… see what I can do."
"Thank you. I hope we can become closer the more we see each other. It's nice to have someone to dream with. You really should wake up soon…" 
Their fingers intertwine with yours, placing the S'more in your open palm.
"But it doesn't hurt to dream just a little longer." 
You take a bite. Charred fluff explodes from between the crackers and onto your tongue. You always had to stop them from turning your marshmallows to near ash as they preferred theirs. You chew slower to savor the taste as their head rests on your arm. You close your eyes - letting everything melt in.
The taste of burnt marshmallow. 
The chilly night air.
Them.
You chew and chew - opening your eyes to find yourself right back where you once were. Stickiness clings to your lips. They feel a bit chalky too. You scrap it off with your nails, wiping marshmallow fluff onto your stained apron. 
Your book sits a few inches in front of you in the dirt. You pick it up and inspect it from to back, checking each page to make sure everything is still there. There are pink fingerprints on a page detailing a recipe for hand pulled taffy. They curve into the arches of a heart at the bottom of the paper.
Riiing. 
Riiing. 
Somewhere off in the distance - a bell chimes. The instrument falls from the wielder's hand to their hip as they watch you. The bill of what looks to be a mailman's cap blocks you from direct eye contact or even a glimpse at their face. A satchel of better quality than yours hangs at their side - what looks to be a chalkboard dangling from their neck. 
After the last encounter, you're hesitant to speak to anyone you meet in this place, but you have no choice. "H…hello?
Same as with the other once, there's no response at first. The figure takes hold of the board around their neck, dragging their fingers along its surface. They turn the board to you - an arrow pointing to their left. As if to further get their point across, they raise a hand in the same direction. Each of their fingers appears to be a different color. Yellow. Pink. Blue. Green. Orange. They tip their hat at you before spinning on their heels and heading the opposite way.
"Wait!" You toss your book into your bag as you stand - giving chase as they dart around a tree. Wind nips at your exposed flesh as you sprint after them. By the time you reach where they once stood they're already leagues ahead of you. Sharp turns drive a deeper wedge in your distance from them. The faint jingle of their bell grows further and further away the closer you get - your voice drowning out its final chime. 
"Please - wait! I don't know where I am. I just want to go home. Where are you trying to send me? Please, I need your - wahh!"
Eyes straight ahead, you completely overlook the obstacle in your path until it sweeps the air from beneath you. You fall forward as your ankle connects with something hard jutting out of the earth. You throw your arms out to cushion your landing as your body is cruelly shoved into the dirt by gravity. 
"Ow…." Flipping yourself over, you lift up your apron to check the damage to your stinging right leg. The pants leg itself is torn, but your leg looks to be relatively okay besides the start of a bruise. Looking closer - green spots stain the fabric of your slacks around the mouth of the tear in them.  You glance over at the cause of your tumble - blood chilling in your veins. 
Sprawled across the forest floor was an entire human skeleton encased in some greenish, gel-like mass. Its hollow eye sockets gaze apathetically at nothing; arms curled to its chest. They stare straight through you and your shivering self feet away. The sludge that surrounds it almost fits perfectly to its thin frame, but there are some outliers in its shape. Two circular mounts sit atop its head like the ears of some animal. The gel bunches around their arms and neck like the sleeves and hood of a jacket. It seems to mimic both skin and clothing. You swallow the scream in your throat and use the energy to kick yourself off the ground as you flee - stopping dead in your tracks as a tiny voice calls out.
"Please don't go…." 
A tiny sniffle sounds from the body behind you. Its chest rises and falls slowly as its head tilts up to look at you. You freeze - stiff as a board. 
"I'm… not going to hurt you if that's what you're afraid of. I can't do anything really right now. I can't move.. It's getting darker… I just want to go home…" 
Their words strike a chord with you. Against every muscle screaming otherwise, you turn to face them again. "What… are you?"
"My name is Gumi… I'm a boy - if you were wondering. Like most of the things you've probably seen by now, I'm made out of candy. Could you please just stay here until my sister comes? She can help fix me and we can take you back to town. The forest is pretty large though, and I can't remember where I am so I don't know how long it will take her to find us." 
"Gumi…. I'm sorry, you have to understand how crazy this is for me… Let me help you sit up." You walk over to the candy body - scooping your arms beneath his and dragging him over to a nearby rock. Your fingers sink into his squishy flesh as you help him sit upright. Despite being made of sweets, he definitely had the weight of a human being. It's hard for him to sit up all the way - possibly due to the empty space in his abdomen leaving little support for his gummy flesh. There's a red misshapen mark in his chest where a heart would be, the organ obscured by the walls of candy around it.
"Thank you… What's your name?"
You glance at the ground. "Just… call me Sweets."
"Sweets…." Gumi parrots, "That's a nice name.."
"What happened to you?"
Gumi weakly pulls his arms tighter to his chest. "My spine… was taken. There's someone like me out here - a candy person, I mean. Their body can't hold a solid form, so they steal from other people in exchange for things to eat to keep it." 
You place your bag on the ground, kneeling as you search through it. All of this is giving you a headache, but you can't just leave him out here after being stuck for so long. "What do they normally eat?"
"Anything that will help them, really. Sugar, syrup, jam- but there's been talk of them drinking hu-"
Jam. Thank heavens you switched to plastic jars as soon as you were able to get your hands on some. "I have something I can trade. Can you tell me which direction they're in?" 
"W-what?!" Gumi's soft body tenses - falling forward into your arms. "No, it's too dangerous! I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me! Especially not someone who's been nice to me so far…." 
You place a hand on his back, guiding him back against the stone. "Like you said, it's getting darker and we don't know when your sister will find you. I'm sure we can come to an agreement with them. Not to brag, but I'm kind of the best - and only baker in my hometown."
"I…but-..." Gumi trips over his words- searching for a rebuttal, but finding nothing. He sighs. "Okay…. But take my head with you. If anything happens I can distract them long enough for you to get away…"
"Won't that..hurt?.." 
"No…. I'm sitting here without a spine, aren't I? It is pretty gross in my opinion, but my bones can be pulled apart and snapped back together easy. Watch." Gumi places both hands on the sides of his skull, twisting his head and the bones attaching it to his shoulder until it's loose enough to pop right off. His headless body passes his head off to you as it smiles meekly. 
"Creep… I know."
You gently take his head from his hands. "After the day I've had, I'd hardly consider this the worst part. If you ask me, I think it's kind of cool."
"C…cool?" Red bleeds from the center of his face all the way to the ears atop his head.
"Are you okay?" 
"Y-yeah… Nobody, besides my sister and a few others, have ever been this kind to me… The cave they live in is that way."
His body points in the same direction his eyes do. You move his head into one arm as you reach into your satchel. You pull out your book and tuck wit beneath your other arm as you remove your apron. You stuff it into your bag and place his head instead. 
"Is this comfortable for you? I'd hate to trip over something else and accidentally drop you.."
"Yes, but - could you please carry me in your arms. I-if I'm not too heavy of course. Humans have soft skin…. Was that weird to say?"
"I don't think so. I'll gladly carry you, but we should get going now. Can your body watch my book for me until we get back? It's important to me and I'd hate for it to get more damaged than it already is. It's pretty old considering it's a family heirloom" 
His voice softens. "You really trust me with something that special to you?..." 
You smile. "You haven't given me a reason not to." 
"okay…. O-Okay! I'll guard it with my life then." He holds out his hands and you set the book in them - leaving it in his possession. His body hugs it to his chest, waving as you and his head walk off.
-
Walking towards the cave, the silence gets to you before long. "So… you have a sister?"
Gumi looks up at you from the corners of his sockets. "Yeah… a little sister - we think. Her name is Lollie. We aren't actually related, but it's nice to have that bond. She has a bit of a temper, but she sticks up for me and I try to keep her out of trouble."
"That's so sweet… Can you tell me a bit about the town you guys live in?"
"There's not much to say about it..  It's all we've really ever known after watching up one day and finding each other before being picked up by the others. Chip repairs us the best he can when any of us breaks. Kreme makes clothes for those who wear them and made me and Lollie matching bracelets for our birthday. Valentine makes deliveries to everyone and collects things we need from the forest. There are others in town, but a few I don't see often and the rest are… not the kindest"
"Deliveries… I saw someone with a bell and a carrier satchel earlier. Could that be them?"
"Probably… Val can't speak so they carry a bell and their chalk board to communicate with people… We're here…" 
Leaves crunch beneath your feet as you stop before the gaping mouth of a cave. The dampness of the opening rolls off in waves, fanning your face like a dying breath. You catch the scent of artificial strawberries as you readjust Gumi in your arms.
"Well… no time like the present." Breathing in, you take your first step inside the cave. Your steps echo down the narrow passageway as you traverse deeper into the hollow den. Darkness envelops you, but it no longer holds control over you with company - sparkling stalagmites soon brightening the dim path. You chip off a piece of the jagged crystals as you pass by and stick your tongue against the flat surface. Rock candy- grape flavor to be exact. 
The tight walls of the cave open into a room fully illuminated by glowing rock candy. A pool of crimson awaits in the room's center - a deep chuckle bubbling from its murky depths.
"Well, well - you sure took your time, but since you've brought a new face I'll let it slide this time." 
Gumi shakes in your arms. Feeling your hold strength, he swallows his nerves as he speaks. "M, please give back my spine. We'd like to make a trade with you."
"Yes, yes - we've played this little game many times before with that sister of yours.. Allow me to slip into something more… comfortable." 
A hand shoots out from the pool, smacking down on the stone floor with a wet crack. Along with the hands forms an arm - weaving into shape by use of the syrupy fluid it bathes the. It drags itself from the vicious sea of red - pulling the tides along with it. A lower half of a head emerges from the pit, waters depleting as its torso and left arm take shape. You watch as the fluids snake around the stolen spine as the empty space of their chest closes to form mostly smooth skin. Their flesh drips and hangs at their fingertips, right shoulder hanging lower than the left as they crawl their way out and stand up right. Their head finally morphs to shape to the best of its capabilities with what little fluid it has left to work with - the entire left half of their face from eye to jaw missing. 
"That's… a little better. Excuse me for taking so much of your time, but I am almost ready."
There's a slight limp in their stride as they saunter  over behind a curtain of sharp rocks. The slip of fabric meets your ears as they hum to themselves - image reflected on the wall behind them. You see as they slide an arm through the sleeves of a shirt, buttoning it up to the second to last collar. They place a cap atop their head as they step back out to greet you -heeling clicking sharply against the hard floor. 
The figure wears what was once a white nursing coat and hat. Red hand prints dart the entire length of the garb down to where it hangs just above their knee. It rises to mid-thigh with every step they take. They pin a name tag to their chest as they stand before you - red blocking out every letter of the name that was once there besides one.
M. 
M sighs. "Ha… Much better. I do pray my appearance doesn't alarm you much, but considering you are carrying the head of this whiny little creature I'm sure my looks hardly bother you. Maybe..  interesting you perhaps, hm?"
You nervously chuckle. "About the trade…." 
They clap their hands together. "Ah yes- It is one I am quite excited for. It's been so long since I've had a nice cup of red wine. I'll be needing a sample to decide how much of you is worth trading the only useful part that boy in your arms has." 
"I… have something else in mind." Reaching into your bad, you pull out a freshly made jar of jam made the night before in preparation for a cake someone had ordered. You shake the jar lightly. "Do you take raspberry?
M folds their arms over their chest. "I guess we'll just have to see." They snatch the jar from you and twist off its lid, inserting their index finger inside. They spread the jam over their middle finger and thumb - eyeing it closely as they shove their fingers past their lips.
"Hm…."
They take another taste.
"Mmm…."
And another - this time dipping their entire palm into the jar and shoveling the jam into their mouth.
"This…  is good…I've never had anything this good in ages." M sucks the jam from each finger before pointing at you. "You! - Tell me you have more of this…. Heavenly concoction."
"I don't… but if you promise to give Gumi's spine back and never take it from him again then maybe I'll find a way to make more for you before I leave." 
"Deal!" M takes one of your hands and shakes it vigorously as confirmation of your contract. They reach into their chest, ripping out Gumi's spine and passing it off to you. Once their deed is done, they pour what remains of the jam down their throat - tapping the bottom of the jar and licking its walls to get every drop. The left half of their face fills out as they chew; straight locks of hair flowing from beneath their cap and stopping at their neck.
"I await our next encounter, my dear. As a token of my appreciation, you may come back even without your delicious jams as it does get rather lonely all the way out here by myself. I'd like to keep this container as a reminder of our first meeting. Until we see each other again, my sweet little friend. Thank you for the meal - and dessert.
M sweeps a finger across your cheek, catching the drying blood from a cut you must've gotten from one of your many falls. It's a surprise that it and the bruise on your leg is all the damage you've gotten so far. They place their thumb into their mouth with a small hum of satisfaction - winking as they turn away.
"Come by soon~"
You walk out of the cave with Gumi's spine and head in hand. "That was…interesting.."
"I'm just glad neither of us got hurt.. Let's get back to my body before… oh… oh no….. no no no no. 
Your emotions conflict between confusion and terror - an imperfect balance of the two. "What? What's wrong?"
"We have to get back - now."
Racing through the trees, the commotion sounds before you even see it.
"Come on, lemme read it - Lemme read it! Is it your journal? Your diary? I wanna see, I wanna see!"
Gumi's headless body narrowly avoids the swing of a sledgehammer wielded by a girl nearly two size smaller than the weapon she holds. As she throws it back over her shoulder, the hammer end of the tool is revealed to be a giant, lollipop the same glossy pink as her skin. She chases after Gumi's body as it attempts to crawl away - skipping after him as if playing a leisurely game of tag. As she makes another grab for your book - Gumi shouts.
"Lollie! Cut it out! The book isn't mine! It belongs to Sweets!" 
The girl snaps her head in your direction - stomping her feet excitedly in place before sprinting straight at you. 
"Gummy-worm!"
Lollie plucks her brother's head from your grasp, spinning in circles as she giggles. She hugs him close, pressing her hard cheek against his. "Where have you been?! I've been looking for you all over and here you are with some human. Don't think I won't tell Jaws about you hanging out with fleshies again. She's still pretty pissed about what the last one did to her, y'know."
Gumi groans, his body dragging itself across the ground to return your book to you. You take a knee as you take it from him - patting his arm as a token of your gratitude. "Please don't call me that in front of them.. They're nothing like the last one, or any of the humans that we've met recently." 
"I would find that hard to believe…. If they weren't holding your spine. If Bloody steals your parts one more time I'm gonna-" She exhales. "Well, you know what I'll do." She faces you. "HI. I'm Lollie, Gumi's sister, but I'm sure he's already told you all about me."
You nod. "He's told me a few things. You can call me Sweets."
"Sweets… Cute~ Normally I'd chase you all the way to the ocean, buuuut since you help my brother and you have a cute name I'll help you out as well. Let's get Wormy here back in one piece and we'll take you back to town."
With Lollie's aid, you reattach Gumi's head and arm. Standing on his feet, the boy sheepishly rubs at his arm. "Can… Can I hug you? It felt nice to be held by you…" 
"Of course." Pulling him in, the two of you share a brief hug before you're ripped away by Lollie who holds onto your hand tightly. Gumi could've gone another hour in your arms. He accepts his loss and takes your other hand as Lollie attempts to drag you both along.
"Come on, come on - we gotta get there before everyone turns in for the night!" 
Together, the twins guide you through the forest back to their home. Walking with them, you finally take pause to look at the world around you. With everything going on, you never stopped to notice it all. Cotton candy bushes. Lollipop flowers. The bark of the trees surrounding you reveal themselves to be made of some mass of woven candy strings. The soft earth beneath you becomes solid as you step down on hard, stone bricks. 
Gumi speaks up. "Do you think anyone is around? 
Bright lights and friendly chatter answers his questions for you all. A small crowd of people stand at the entrance of the town - conversing amongst each other as one, familiar face scouts out the brick road. They grab the bell from their belt, giving it a hard shake. 
As you approach, a lone figure departs from the pack. They wear a burgundy apron, longer than your own as it drapes at their ankles, and carry with them a wooden blood. Their skin and braided hair remind you of unbaked dough - large, brown spots sprinkled through their person. 
"Welcome home, you two. And to your new friend. My name is Chip, and it is a pleasure to meet you. You must be hungry after your journey. If we had more time to prepare, I would've made more, but I hope you enjoy stew."
As he holds out the bowl, the mail carrier creeps up from behind. A red heart marks the entirety of their face. They flip their board around for you to see as they cock their head to one side. 
"Welcome. :) (sorry for running off earlier.)" 
Lollie huffs. "Dang it, Val - you ruined our big surprise."
You smile faintly. "It's alright. My name is Sweets and while I appreciate the gesture, I think I've had enough candy for one day, Chip." 
Chip pushes the bowl into your hands. "Just take one bite - if you would be so kind."
Unable to refuse, you bring the bowl up to your lips - sampling the broth. Where you expect to be met with soda or some other sugary drink is instead the hearty taste of root vegetables and spices. Whatever your stance on vegetables was as a child meant nothing now. You open your mouth wider to allow the potatoes and carrots through, broth dripping from the corners of your lips as you greedily inhale the stew. You turn away to wipe your face as the filling meal settles in your stomach.
"Thank you… That was…."
"Real vegetables?"
"That… but also good. How do you-"
Chip laughs. "We have the means to grow foods fit for your kind here as well. Can't make a cake without milk and eggs, can you? We're able to grow normal fruits from the trees you've seen outside, but livestock are a little hard to come by. Had I known of your arrival I would've prepared one of the chickens or cows I tend to for you."
"This is more than enough. Thank you, again."
Wheels clack over the stone pathway as another town's person rushes forward - picking at your tattered and burned clothing as they skate around you. You catch glimpses of what look to be two donuts sprouting from the sides of their head like puffy, hair buns - decorated in blue icing and rainbow sprinkles. The large hole in their stomach peaks from beneath their crop top. They pull to a stop in front of you, hands placed to their hips as they look at all the stains on your apron. 
"Whoa! Your clothes are all burnt and torn up! Dirty too… I think I have some clothes in storage that'll fit you until I get the chance to patch them for you. My name is Kreme. Come by soon, kay?"
"Oh, um… okay!"
Kreme bows before zooming off down the empty streets presumably back to their place of work. The next to approach you wears fishnet leggings and a red bomber jacket. Wispy locks of bubble gum pink hair mask his eyes. His skin teeters on off white, but still holds that faint pink glow freshly chewed gum has. There are tiny bites taken out from his arms and hands. By the slight movement of his jaw something tells you those wounds may be self-inflicted. 
They bowl a bubble, popping it with their teeth. "Marina. Things can get pretty hectic around here. Ever need to relax, I could let you pass with a bite or two."
You raise your hands, doing your best to keep your smile from breaking. "I think I'm good."
"Your loss." Marina shrugs, spitting out the piece of himself and taking a fresh bite from his arm as he walks off.
"This is ridiculous..' 
The figure standing over by the welcoming sign finally speaks out. A sour candy belt wraps around their neck and head like a scarf. "LockJaw's never gonna allow another human to live here after what the last one did. We shouldn't even let them in the first place." 
Lollie blows a raspberry at them. "Malick, don't be such an ass. LockJaw may watch over us, but she isn't our boss." 
"Where is Lock by the way?"
Thud.
The ground quakes beneath you as a body crumples to it behind you. Cracks splinter the road around them - your teeth chattering from the heavy force of their landing. Spots of red, yellow, and blue pepper their paper white skin. Their right arm falls at your feet - detached from their body. A good portion of their torso is missing as well; both injuries revealing the layers of color overlapping like the rings of a chopped tree to make up the inner works of their body. You don't remember who's the first, but soon enough they all flock around them. Gumi shakes them roughly. 
"LockJaw? Lockjaw! What happened? C-can you hear us?" 
The body twitches - the fingers of their missing arm moving sporadically. 
Chip takes a knee beside him and gently pulls his hands off of her. "She'll be fine. We need to get her inside so I check her wounds. Sweets, I hate for this to be your first experience with us, but could you please grab LockJaw's arm and follow us? She is quite heavy compared to the rest of us, so we need all the hands we can get."
Nodding, you pick up LockJaw's arms as the others pick her up off the ground. Her face is a mostly smooth surface. No eyes, nose, or even lips - until her face is fully lifted off the ground. An eyes rolls sluggishly in its socket from the crater in the left side of her face - rainbow teeth clenched so tight you're afraid they might break as her eye falls on you.
"Human…. Leave." 
Chip throws her arm over his shoulder.  "Now isn't the time for that. Follow us, please." 
With Lollie holding her right side, Gumi and Marina supporting her from behind, and Malick behind them for extra support - you trail behind them as they all carry LockJaw into the nearest home which appears to be Chip's if the sign out front is anything to go by. They all lower her to the ground, stepping back as Chip inspects the brunt of her damages. Her single eye remains on you - unblinking. His lips press into a thin line as his expression darkens.
"I'm… afraid there isn't much I can do for her… Bandages won't fix injuries this severe… I'm sorry, Lock..."
"What?" Lollie shrieks. "There has to be something we can do!"
Her hand balls into a fist against your chest. You look around you, racking your brain for a solution. LockJaw… Jaws.. "Chip, do you have a stove, pot, water, and sugar? Maybe a rolling pin as well?" 
"Yes. Yes, I have all of those things. This way." Chip leads you into his kitchen. Grabbing a pot from the cupboard, he places it on the stuff as he searches around for the remainder of the items you asked him for. Once obtained, you pour water and sugar into the pot - stirring the mixture together before lighting the flame. Sweat drips from your face as it soon begins to bubble. You quickly remove it from the eye and hurry back to where LockJaw lays - pouring it slowly over the gaping hole in her chest. You rave between the kitchen and living room - preparing more pots of boiling sugar you pour over her. As the wound fills out and matches level with the rest of her skin, you take the rolling pin and roll it over the cooling final layer - evening it to make. You dip her right arm and its stump in the next batch - attaching the two and keeping her arm in place until you're sure the makeshift glue holds. You get up to make another to work on her face - a hand grabbing the tails of your apron as you rise. Even she seems surprised by her movements as she pulls her hand away - flexing her fingers.
"No… you've done enough… ugh…."
LockJaw climbs to her cheek, standing a head taller than you. Her eye still lingers on you as she's hugged from behind by Lollie.
"Jaws! You're okay! Didn't you say it's best for us to stay in numbers? Why do you get to go off on your own?!"
LockJaw pushes the smaller girl away. "Don't touch me."
The strength and mobility of her right arm still throws her off as Chip rejoins you. "LockJaw, I see you are well. I'm glad. Considering your recovery is most in part thanks to our new friend here, it wouldn't be a crime to let them stay for a little while, would it?"
LockJaw looks away. She cannot close her eye so it's the best she can do. "For now. The minute they cause trouble I want them gone." The jawbreaker woman squeezes past Malick and Gumi, walking out of the open front door.
"Woo-hoo!" Lollie throws her arms around her, beckoning her brother to join as she hugs who tightly who sheepishly complies. "Looks like you'll be staying with us for a while. You'll bunk with me and Gumi, right? We can go on all sorts of adventures together and get to know each other better-"
Chip cuts into the conversation. "While that does sound lovely, we will talk about their permanent board in the morning. There are some things I'd like to discuss with them before the night is over. I think it's best if everyone returns home for now."
"Aw…." Lollie sulks, yet abides to Chip's order. She drags Gumi along with her who calls out as he's pulled along-
"Bye, Sweets! It was really nice to meet you! You'll visit me…. Us! In the morning, r-right?"
You call back. "As soon as I wake up you'll be the first I see!"
Chip waits for everyone else to leave before he speaks again. He walks over to the front door and shuts it, turning the lock. "Sweets… I must confess that I lied before. I have fixed LockJaw and others to the best of my power in the past, but I know your aid was the only way she'd allow you to stay. Valentine told me about some of the things they saw in the book you possess. You are a baker, if I'm not mistaken?" 
"Yes… My shop was burned down by people I once called family. I fell through the floor and woke up here. This cookbook is all I have now."
Chip nods. "I am sorry for prying. It's just that even I am unable to do what you have done."
"What do you mean?"
"My fixes are… cosmetic at best. Sometimes, functions fail to return if a limb or other part is completely severed, or recovery takes a long time. You were able to repair LockJaw's arm and mobility to it in record time. I am unsure what this means, but either way you are welcome to stay with us until you are able to find your way home… If you ever want to return after what happened."
His final sentence hits you like a weighted brick. What will you do when you return home? It's not like you can go back to the town. Your survival will only prove their claims, but even then it's all you've ever known. You gaze outside the window- stars shining in the pale moonlight.
"Stars…." The word slips from your lips before you realize. Your eyes light up - hand placed against the glass. 
Chip laughs. “You've spent the day in a world made of candy, and yet it seems this amazes you more. Have you never seen them before?” 
“No…Not anywhere besides picture books at least. When I was little I used to collect little scraps of dough left over and shape them into stars to pass out to other kids around town… We made up a little game that if you ate one and wished just like you would on a real star all your dreams would come true… I think…. They’re why I’m here now.“ 
They would have loved this - and probably everything else in this world. That reminds you.. "Chip? There's someone I need to see. They had fluffy hair and short horns and they were wrapped in a blue blanket if I remember correctly. Do you know someone with that description?"
"I suppose you've met our little dreamer. Come with me."
Chip leads you outside and to a house with baby blue walls and white frosting decorating its borders. A blue star is printed on the front door. Chip knocks twice before it opens for you. You both enter and he guides you to a bedroom with marshmallow pillows littering the floor and a canopy bed at its heart. The figure from your dreams lays on their side - blankets covering only half their body and hands holding a white index card and blue pencil. You take the card from them and read it to yourself. It reads the name-
"Marlow." 
You pick up the covers and pull them over their shoulders, tucking them beneath their chin. "Marlow, thank you for waking me up earlier. I'd like to dream with you now, if that's alright with you."
Deep asleep, their lips curl upwards as their body moves to make room for you. You look towards Chip who wishes you goodnight with another nod - shutting the door behind him. You climb into bed with Marlow, an arm falling over your chest as you stare out the window - falling asleep beneath a blanket of stars for the first time in all your life. 
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pergaminaa · 2 months
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Manon would have doubts about being a good mother to her little witchling. It’s a feeling that never goes away and she terrified of acting like her grandmother because it’s literally the only thing she knows.
She’s aware that what her grandmother did was no way to be around a child. This, and the fact that Manon is a good person with a lot of repressed love, was why she is nothing like her grandmother. But she doesn’t see it that way. She is haunted by her past and her own nightmarish childhood. She hangs on every mistake, wonders if she could have said something better— wonders if her witchling is better off being around Dorian more than her (because she believes that she will do some irrecoverable damage to her, and the thought literally keeps her up at night)
Dorian is there to always assure her that she’s nothing like her grandmother. He hates that after so long without her, she still has her clutches around Manon, ensuring that her voice is the only thing leading Manon.
He knows that she isn’t like her at all. And he will never tire of reminding her of it every single day.
This has become easier with their witchling getting older. Now, he can easily just point at the toddler, who would be in various positions on their bed at night ‘because I get bad dreams in my bed and only get good dreams in your bed’ as she would argue.
He notices how the witchling is casual about it. She comes into their room, climbs up their bed, plops down next to her mom while holding on to something so that she doesn’t get carried to her room (toddler logic). To Dorian, this display alone is enough.
He tells Manon that if she was anything like she thinks she is, their witchling wouldn’t be feeling this safe around her. She is always around her mother, following her around and preferring to stay with her as opposed to playing with the other children. If their witchling is feeling unsafe, she wouldn’t be doing any of that.
“Look at her,” He points at the sleeping child in their bed once again. Her head is resting on Manon’s stomach, while she almost hogged her mother all to herself.
“You’re doing great with her, witchling,” He winks. Adding a little playfulness while being serious.
The Blackbeak Matron killed her own daughter and almost killed her granddaughter. Manon is nothing like her, and he will never tire of reminding her of that.
Because even the formidable Queen of the Witches needs a gentle reminder from time to time.
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breelandwalker · 5 months
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Little Witches
I love it when families come to my market table. Kids ask the most oddball questions and they really get you thinking. And then sometimes they say the most ridiculous shit you've ever heard and you have to clamp down REAL hard on the urge to laugh hysterically.
There was a pair of girls that came by my booth at a recent market who were giving very big Owens Sisters vibes. One was quiet and curious and wanted to examine everything up close. The other was vivacious and giggly and just wanted anything and everything on the table that had to do with LOVE. (Meanwhile, her poor beleaguered mum was hovering in the background like, "Sweetie, you're ten, you don't need a love charm.")
We had quite a fun conversation about magic and how it works and how they can explore the topic together (always directing the Under Adult Supervision glances to the mum, who mouthed "thank you" after a couple of salient points were made).
While her sister was stacking up charms for Luck and Happiness and Wishes, Miss Giggles, who hadn't let go of the Attraction moon jar or the Love bottle charm since arriving, asked how the charms worked with a light in her eyes that I'm sure is going to give her mother grey hairs someday.
"Well," I said, "that depends on what you want them to do. A love charm doesn't have to be for romance. It could be for friendship or family or loving yourself more. And the attraction charm could bring in something you want, but you'd have to be specific about it."
"Oh! I want to attract ALL the things!"
".....A little more specific than that, honey," says Mum.
"I want to attract all the living things! Wait no, just animals. All the animals!"
At that point, I just couldn't resist saying, "You might want to narrow it down a little more than that, dear. 'Cause that's how you get ANTS."
In the end, the sisters went away with some charms for luck and happiness and Mum took my contact information for future questions. ("They have so many. All the time. And I'm new at this too, so I'm running out of answers.") The second they were out of sight and earshot, I pulled my hat down and laughed until I couldn't breathe.
Little witchlings give me life.
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yanny09 · 1 month
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My personal experience with Aphrodite
What is aphrodite like? persistent. oh my STARS i remember when i was a witchling and i had my first three deities, i kept getting persephone and aphrodites name mixed up and i ALWAYS felt so guilty and upset. i tried to distance myself from her but EVERY SINGLE TIME she pulled me right back with a very clear sign of "hey? hello? I WANT TO WORK WITH YOU??" but i just wouldnt understand. amazing dawnbreaker your SO good at this!! it was to the point where she had to appear in my dream for me to go "yep. okay. deity id needed." How do i see aphrodite? Like the literal definition of love and war, she is very loving and caring to her followers but still try to instill the "if you need to stand up for yourself when you are in the wrong, do so." she doesnt like it when you openly let people walk all over you, if you can you should stand up for yourself or at least say your peace. ive always seen ocean imagery when thinking about aphrodite, and alot of pink and a lot of sea salt too!! shes like when you go to the ocean and the sky is so clear and the water is just the right tempurature What was the biggest shock you gotten when working with aphrodite? just how present she felt, she wasnt quite about wanting to work with me she was very open about it. sure, if i really REALLY didnt want to for any reason we probably would of postponed it till i felt emotionally ready. i think that in itself is a shock, shes open but she isnt exactly forceful. What was the least shocking thing when working with aphrodite? i felt better about my looks, a little more secure. not in the "oh its a fact im pretty because people say i am" but more like a "i personally like how i look" AND I THANK HER FOR THAT CHANGE EVERYDAY. i also found my own style in her honor, to actually say no to clothes that my family said "oh do you want this?" is a lesson i should never forget because i felt super guilty when i say yes and never wear the item
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moonstruckme · 1 year
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So, I know you don't commonly really write for steddie, and you don't have to write this if you don't wanna. But what about Like, reader graduates hawkins high and goes of to college (eddie is probably still held back for his last year???) And when she left she was more on the quite side, soft color pallet, kinda stariotypical pastel sunshine character. And she comes back for the summer and she's like, more punk-ish??? Like a few more piercings, and same kinda quite personality but kinda different aesthetic?
I think you could do something similar with poly!marauders as well, where same thing happens but it's over the summer between years?
Idk, you dont even have to write it, I just have a stupid soft spot for this weird trope/character arc. Make sure to take care of yourself and have a lovely day!!!!!
I'm happy to write for any characters on my list, thanks for requesting gorgeous! Hope you're having a lovely day and taking care of yourself as well <3
Steddie x fem!reader ♡ 637 words
Steve and Eddie are scanning the crowd for you up until the very moment you come up to them. Even then, it takes Eddie a second to recognize you. 
“Hey,” you say, tentative. 
“Hey,” Steve says, stepping forward. “Shit, honey, come here.” 
You grin, some of the apprehension easing from your features as you hug him. 
“Shit,” Eddie agrees, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “Almost didn’t recognize you, sunshine.” 
Sunshine might not even be the best nickname for you now. When you’d left for college last fall, you’d looked like the rainbow had befriended you personally. All pastels, colorful sweaters and flowy little skirts. Now, it’s like you’ve been plucked from a graphic novel. Your clothes are dark down to the shoes, with ripped black tights under your shorts and lace-up combat boots that, frankly, Eddie thinks might get a little hot in the Indiana summer. He wonders if you’d be amenable to him calling you his little bat. Or witchling, maybe? He’ll have to workshop it. 
“You look so different.” Steve sounds positively flabbergasted, stepping back to take you in more fully. “I mean, not a bad different, I just—wow, it’s really…” Eddie snickers. In his opinion, you look far less like someone Steve Harrington would ordinarily date (the girl next door, preppy style, Nancy Wheeler clone) and more like someone he would (cool as fuck). Luckily for you, they both love you down to your ooey gooey core no matter how you present yourself. 
“It’s a new look, babe, and it’s fucking sick,” Eddie summarizes. “Is this what college does to people? Maybe I should come visit.” 
You roll your eyes at him, flushing faintly. Another pro of your new style: the pink of your face stands out ever-so-much-more brilliantly against your new dark palate. 
“I’m serious, sweetheart,” Eddie goes on, delighting in watching your color change. “I need you to start coming to my shows so we can lure in your crowd. You’re too fucking cool for us now.” 
Your shoulders start to come up around your ears, but Steve saves you, tucking you under his arm with a kiss to the top of your head. “She was always too cool for us,” he says. It’s the truth, and Eddie sends you a wink to make sure you know he knows it. “You look amazing, really. God, we’ve missed you so—is that a tattoo?”
Eddie all but lunges for you. “Where?” 
“Here,” Steve says, stretching the collar of your shirt over your shoulder, where an inky design sits starkly against your skin. “Shit, this is so cool.” Eddie jostles for space, head squishing between yours and Steve’s to get a better look. “It really works for you.” 
You smile bashfully. “Thanks.” 
“Fuck me,” Eddie breathes, and you shiver pleasantly as his breath his your shoulder. “Actually, if I can get us to Steve’s in five minutes, would you top me right now? This is too fucking hot—oh, don’t look at me like that, Stevie boy. You know you like it too.” 
“I do,” Steve says, giving Eddie a look that’s probably aiming for stern but only hitting fond as he tries to coax your face from his chest. “It looks great honey, when did you get this?”
Your voice is characteristically quiet, but a bit proud, when you say, “That one’s from a couple months ago. I got my first last November, though.”
“Your first?” Eddie’s gobsmacked. “How many are there? Wait, no, don’t tell me.” He grabs you by the legs, hoisting you over his shoulder. “I wanna find ‘em.” 
“Eds, put me down!” You hiss in his ear, but your words are undercut by giggles. “Steve!”
“Sorry, but I’m kinda on board with this one,” Steve says with an apologetic shrug in your direction. He tosses Eddie the keys. 
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