#and hey maybe you wicca reading this

[ceo-draiochta]

Obviously plenty of issues with wicca but one thing I just don't understand is why they had to drag us into it? There are alternative english, non gaelic, holidays celebrated around those times if they were so set on the dates.

The fact that English people, who literally lived through Irelands war of independence decided they were going to slap gaelic names on their neo religion is so fucking tiring. Can they not just leave us alone for a minute.

And I understand that the mixing of 'druidism' and wicca in early stages had an impact, Nichols specifically and it wasn't until later wiccans realised Gardner had lied about the entire foundations of his religion.

(Any supposed "Scottish" past of these people is blatant Highlandism, that justifies nothing btw)

But to this day people are uncritically using the words imbolc, bealtaine, lughnasadh and samhain in a wicca context with no regard for the fact that people just stole from a culture their country had tried to decimate. Is there no thought into the appropriateness of the use of these holidays?

Lá Bealtaine, Lá Lúnasa and Oíche Shamhna were all still celebrated at this point too? While imbolc is presumably subsumed into Brigids day. There were real living people celebrating (and still celebrate) these holidays, they weren't for random English people to take and twist into a god and goddess sex metaphor.

I have personally never heard of people today trying to do something about this but I also would not frequent IRL wicca spaces. So those more in the know, is there any push or discussion about this?

[orlissa]

Have you always known you want to be a literary translator?

Lol, no.

I think I've told this story here before, but here it goes, like, from the very beginning.

Ever since I can remember, I've always had a knack for storytelling - I actually had a short story published when I was 11 -, and got into fanfic at 12. Back then, it was only in Hungarian, and at the point like 99% of Hungarian fanfics were Harry Potter. It was like other fandoms didn't exist.

But a year or two later I got into a fandom (X-Men: Evolution) that very little Hungarian following (well, I remember there being a few fics, but really just a few and not the best), so I found myself having to venture to English sites - and what happened is that my "good for school" English got... pretty good. By the time I was 15, I was reading novels in English and trying my hand in writing fics in English (I was shameless, too. I lived in a dorm during my high school years, and I remember I was the only member of an English club there, so I got the teacher holding the club to devote it to editing my fics. Something I would definitely not have the guts to do today). In the next few years, I pretty much transitioned to English fandom places.

Then the summer I turned 17 - that was the age of Twilight, and everything was about vampires - I found a book series that spoke to me: it had vampires and a touch of Wicca, and the main character, at least it was prominently displayed in the blurb, was struggling with Math and paralell parking. My weakest subject was Math and I was struggling to get my license at the time - this book spoke to me. Looking back, the series wasn't... great, but at the time it really hooked me. I read the first four books of the series that summer.

As it happened, when I was reading the first book, it's Hungarian edition was already in the works, coming out in that September. And the publisher had a really good marketing manager at the time, who saw to it that the series had an online forum for the fans. I found this forum maybe a week after it launched, and being my shy and and not at all attention seeking self (*sarcasm*) I pretty soon became a central figure there - so much so that the aforementioned marketing manager soon sought me out and offered me an admin position there.

(It was such a great community, too. We did launch parties, and almost had a camp, which then was thwarted the last minute by the weather. I still have friends from there.)

Anyway, so the forum flourished, books in the series were steadily coming out in Hungarian, and we were having fun. Christmas came, and me being me, I wrote a little fic for my friends on the forum, as a gift (I guess I ended up translating it to English, and I think it's still on my old ff.net account). And the forum being an official one run by the publisher, my little fic got to the marketing manager, who sent it to the owner of the company and the translator of the series. And the translator loved it - like it was just fluffy piece, and apparently he said that it was "better than the original" (which is not a big deal, because, yeah, looking back the series wasn't really quality). I took the praise blushing.

A few months went by and the publication process for the fourth book in the series went underway - only they couldn't contact the person who did the editing of the previous books (later it turned out that they died, but no-one knew thaty yet). And they needed an editor ASAP.

That's when the translator, already a veteran in the business, said that hey, they could try me out. So they offered me a job - I was 17, still in high school, and I had an Adult Job, with actual Adult People. I was fucking proud of myself.

And then we did... 4 or 5 books like that. He translated, I edited. Then when I was nearing my high school graduation and we were heading towards the next book, the translator said that he didn't feel like translating this series anymore, but he would be okay with me translating and him editing. And, well, that's what happened. Like, literally I had my high school leaving exams one week, and was working on the translation the next.

He ended up recommending me to some other publishers as well (I work for neither today, either because they've gone defunct or because I wasn't satisfied with the way I was being treated), and then I was just... there. I had references, and I had connections, and I had a job I could do whenever and wherever I wanted while working on my degree. It definitely beat fast food.

Don't get me wrong, I love my job most of the time, and I think I'm good at it (i just heard it back last week that some bloggers were praising my work at some event), but it was never planned and me being where I am today is absolutely due to some events that were mostly out of my hands.

[thetangibleghost]

four tarot readings. first in a while. then a long paragraph about religion or something

okay. well according to my grandmother's deck. I already fucked it up.

first/"gift" deck (my mom's when she was a teen but given to me by my grandmother in a box of random things) says I need to stop ignoring the literal fucking answer to my question. (I didn't even. Ask.)

first deck I bought myself says: it's literally impossible to give up. or alternatively "Hey, asshole."

my mom's gift deck (bought for me) says: tread lightly, this is a minor set back but there's broken glass everywhere.

those are the decks I apparently decided to bring to China. Not bad.

most religions other than newage/wicca don't allow cardomancy or worship of any other deities.

I really love cardomancy. I most forms of divination but cardomancy is my fav. We have alters that genuinely believe in the Greek gods, but it's very surface level, they don't know much about them.

Personally I believe even though we feel seperate, that my alters and I are one being under the eyes/thumb of whatever greater power we choose/find/look for.

We have alters who are monotheistic as well. It feels weird, like promising my leg to one power and my torso to another. I don't think religion is ment to be about sending away pieces of yourself.

When I was doing the last reading I got a notification from TikTok that said "Goodnight Valentine: "what am I supposed to do 😭" "

idk what the context for that actually is but TikTok looooooves sending me well timed goodnight notifications. I can't even GO on TikTok rn cause my sim card is Chinese. But I still get the notifications. 😮‍💨. I don't mind I like them actually. but they don't really make any sense. it's just like a pretty peice to my pretty puzzle that I keep pretending is solvable. I put it in the pile with similar colors and guess at the context. I've been sorting these pieces for ages, sometimes I'll put part of it together then take it back apart because I hate how it looks. but I still know that's how it's supposed to be put together in the end. but maybe this is a puzzle with multiple solutions? maybe there's differnt endings. It will never be finished, I know that. it will still have rough edges, pieces I'm not sure about, missing parts. but I'm just. it doesn't look anything like the box you know? like how can this be right? it's still obviously the same puzzle but it's not turning out like how the box says it will. there arnt any instructions, except the general instructions on how to solve puzzles.

for now I'm just gonna keep reading cards, I guess.

[myeclecticjourney]

Hey! I love your blog, ur pictures are so pretty too. Your posts about your Book of shadows inspired me to start mine :3 Do u have any recommendations on how to start? New witch and broom closet witch here. I'm not sure what path to take in Wicca also.

Hi! Thank you so much ☺️ I'm so happy to help you with your magic journey.

One of the first things I learned when I began my journey is that being a witch is not the same thing as being Wicca. Not every witch is a Wiccan, and not every Wiccan is a witch.

Most of us when we decide to turn to Wicca is because we get mesmerized by the way people portray their path and spirituality, or because we want to try to do some magic. Some others because we love nature, maybe all of the above. The important thing is that you find yourself in the way.

I recommend reading the "Wiccan rede" and "The witches creed", even though both are poems about each, some practitioners use them as ethical guides. Those two are actually the first two pages of my Book of Shadows ☺️. After that, I recommend reading about all of the different paths in Wicca, as for there are many. And just go with your gut hahaha. What sounds good to you? What goes better with your ethics? How often can you practice? Would you celebrate the Sabbaths or not? What do you like in general?

Just enjoy your journey. Have fun and Wicca will help you find a balance in your life.

Let me know what path you decided to take!

Blessed be.

May

[punkinroses]

im having a slight crisis on what im doing with my life and feeling pulls towards a lot of things but idk if i can or if its what i actually wanna do or just a bunch of shit being unsuppressed for me now

[alatus-k]

lol I wonder how long it’ll take my mother to passive aggressively text me tomorrow

[chemicalpink]

Hello, sorry for the long question but I wanted to know your opinion about this topic, begin that you are an expert in these things ahah. (and i’m not lol)

I happen to meet here on Tumblr profiles that always talk about Tarot and readings on BTS, and lately I see that some of these profiles speak of betrayals by JK towards his fs, or how he will always be alone (in a romantic way), or how BTS will disband after renewing this contract because “it’s what they really want right now”. Do you think these things should be taken literally? because it made me a little bit disappointed to read these things about BTS, especially when it comes to cheating and etc. Maybe my expectations on them are too high idk ahaha but I don’t see them doing these things. What do you think? maybe there are people that don’t are that good on readings and this can lead to misunderstandings, I don’t really know.

It really is no trouble and I shall answer with an equally as long text so apologies for that, I just feel like I should cover most things you asked, and after that, I'll link you to some other similar topics I've talked about in case you'd like to read them.

First and foremost (and I've talked about this before pretty openly) kudos to you for questioning the content you see out there. The thing with spiritual content on the internet is that it tends to have a 'trendy' tag attached to it, which is why we sometimes see a lot of people creating content on it. It equates to the way that the market functions, especially since the pandemic started, as we all had to undergo certain mental health processes (say, detriment for example) along with isolation, it served as a catalyst to ponder life as we know it, giving way to other narratives out there, like esoterism/Wicca/spiritualism, which is so easy to attach to given the pseudoscientific nature of it along with the psychological principles that help them truly understand people's minds.

The thing with such a boom in the matter is that it blends right with a lot of other social phenomena like consumerism, how exactly? exactly the way that we see a lot of people creating content in a way that the spiritual practices start being more about quantity over quality.

And you'll say hey, but if you limit the number of people that can create that type of content you're gatekeeping! It's not quite exactly the case, there's absolutely nothing wrong with encouraging access to spiritual tools like tarot, astrology and other divination methods, but it has a more philosophical end to it, where it starts being more about personal values, morals and ethics of the person that intends to create such content. All spiritual content should be treated with respect and responsibility. It derives from a belief system that some of us have grown up in, and as fun, as it may seem (or we make it seem) it entangles a lot more than what it is perceived online.

As with most skills, divination is all about practice, practising connecting with energies that are not our own, energies that are complete strangers to us, energies that are surrounded by a thousand other energies, getting rid of our bias, interpreting cards, blocking out presences, and it is not quite something you can master in the span of a few days if you intend to do so responsibly.

But you know, as much as we preach responsible content creating, it's just human nature to defy it, which is why at least *I* am always preaching everywhere about responsible consumption, sure, we can't really tell if people that are putting out there spiritual content are being responsible about it, so what we ought to do as consumers of said content is to shape our own standards, be informed and not be afraid of questioning content creators (evidently without invalidating their work)

But let's bring all of this back to BTS, where you poise two main concerns. 1. The disbandment and 2. Jungkook

We are under the understanding that tarot and any other divination method is not 100% accurate, alright? And that a lot of other stuff comes into play with readings such as experiences, traditions, values, etc.

The thing with the whole 'not renewing their contract' thing and tarot is that as I mentioned above, tarot meddles with energies or 'vibes' (i feel like vibes can make it easier to understand where I'm coming from) and thus it has to have a mediator of sorts (the reader) that is able to interpret said vibes. So the thing goes like this:

You can have a 'separation' vibe in a reading and to most this would mean that they're disbanding because it is the most literal expression of it, but it's such a vague vibe, I would personally do a confirming reading on it, see where it is coming from. Separation goes a lot of ways, could be 'hard times keeping them apart' or perhaps even 'wishing to pause bc it is mentally overwhelming' but do any of this means that they're disbanding? How real is it? Given the economical context BTS finds themselves in, the impact they have, the place in their career, the place that their company occupies in such decisions, I would say not so likely.

But let's give the benefit of the doubt and say that 'disbandment' is the right concept of the reading after being confirmed as such with a rectification reading, then again, us readers would have to look at the real context of it, which is why it is so important to practice and build a strong connection with energies that we read, if the reader isn't too well connected with the person they're reading, and they give out a vague energy for them to read (as BTS always does tbh) it makes it hard to bring its interpretation into words. If I were to get disbandment as a general reading vibe, I would 100% think it in terms of the political environment they live in, as touchy of a topic it is (and it doesn't correspond to me to give any sort of opinion on it from a fan POV) would be to see it from the fact that military service is a thing that will pose some sort of disruptive nature to their activities as a band and that this event could be translating into the cards as disbandment.

Now onto the Jungkook topic, I've also talked about it before, tarot as a form of divination is set in a 6 month in the future timeframe, so unless JK is marrying in the next 6 months, the connection is faulty and inaccurate. Then again, this is because divination methods focus on the self.

I'll try to illustrate this with a made-up scenario: Say I have a s/o now. We've been dating for a while, a love reading tells me that we're getting engaged in the near future, months go by and I start realising that this far fetched opportunity I had regarding my professional life that came up after the reading but before the 6 month period, is now a reality, things change between me and my s/o, we're past the 6-month timeframe, we broke up. It doesn't mean inherently that the reading was wrong. But we aren't defined by what divination may come up with, as things were before in this example, if there hadn't been a major change in myself, the most probable outcome would have been me getting engaged to my s/o, but we are dynamic, we make decisions, we exercise our own free will and all of it is hard to blueprint on divination methods that use archetypes to describe humans, divination methods over-simplify human behaviour in a an effort to work as tools in spiritual journeys of our own. And we can't really say the same thing when we read for other people, especially celebrities.

The thing with JK's image that you present in your question, and it is also applicable to all and any public figure/celebrity is more on the psychosocial analysis side than the spiritual one, there's no denying that the fan-artist relationship is one that is heavily determined by power dynamics, the sole fact that we are fans instantly places us on a disadvantaging place that we have to learn to be okay with so as not to pursue any type of parasocial relationship, we are just fans. The thing with this is that this social status disadvantage is counterattacked by the fans via rhetoric fallacies, we tend to label artists in ways that it is easier for us to feel closer to them somehow, in an effort to balance out the power dynamic. So then Namjoon turns into the academic and responsible of the bunch, Jin into the one that takes care of his babies, etc. And that's not to say that doing so is bad, it's normal fan behaviour, but we can't overlook the fact that it is easy to paint their behaviour black and white instead of greyscale colours that could be closer to the dynamism of a human being because sure, Joon can enjoy academic settings, go out to museums, be responsible, but that doesn't mean that's all of his personality captured, he can also go out and collect his pokemon stickers, let loose and live his non-public life the way we all do. With no presets and solely ours to enjoy.

This takes a rather interesting turn with JK in the way that he's the youngest, the rhetoric has always been 'the cute of the bunch' 'the kinda shy one' 'the dongsaeng' and then most are head over heels surprised that he's flirty af, kind of spontaneous and rebellious in a way.

BTS as a whole are pretty open people, their personal values are proportional to the way that they're grateful for the fans and try to satisfy this psychosocial need for fans to feel closer to them in a rather emotional intelligent take of their own that compiles classic Kmedia ways, neuromarketing but also humanism, it's the bts way. They are close to us fans as we are close to them but the artist-fan structural platform is there and unable to get rid of. We as fans are part of their public life, and they get to keep their private life as a token of sorts that we may never see and shouldn't want to know too much about out of respect for them as people (yet it sometimes comes out on tarot readings and this is where readers are asked to be responsible about the information they handle)

So yeah, the Jungkook we get to see is a great man, and sure he has his attitudes for him to keep from the public, but he's human, he makes mistakes like we all do, questionable and invasive as it is a reading that paints him as a cheater to his fs (with all the due question marks in terms of timeframe that we've talked about) he's just another human being that will continue to live his life and perhaps make questionable choices, there's much more to Jungkook than what we see and what we label him as. It is hard to imagine, given everything that comes into play, but it is really hard to shed a light on the true splendour of people, and life isn't about that. Life and/or fan life isn't about wanting to decipher every single bit of the people you like/follow/know, it's about respecting them, accepting the parts of themselves they share with you and enjoying your co-existence.

All in all, ANY form of divination, when not used as a tool for our personal spiritual journey should be for fun. Entertainment purposes only.

Now that’s not to say don’t consume tarot/astrology content. It would be hypocritical of me to say that, just do so responsibly, inform yourself, question stuff and be respectful about it.

In case all of this raises some more questions, you can also read:

About tarot consumption: VERY important things to keep in mind

About spiritual content consumption

About tarot interpretation

Tarot/Spiritual content for clout

So… I can just get a tarot deck and do readings myself

Confirming what we read Pt2

Why is BTS spiritual content so toxic?

Is tarot even reliable?

My personal unpopular opinions on kpop tarot

JK’s soulmate/spouse being a hot topic (this applies to any member)

An academic take into BTS future spouses topic

So what about: love readings 💌✨💫

Some of them may repeat, I'll check and edit in due time.

[noctilucid]

DannyMay Day 15: Nature

**References my Day 4 (Stars) drabble, but stands alone.**

"Circle up everybody!" Ms. Teslaff barked, rapping her walking stick on a boulder embedded in the trail.  "This camping trip is required by the state to be educational.  Therefore, you will be given a group assignment designed to meet municipal standards."  Mr. Lancer opened his messenger bag and started passing around packets and paper bags.  A ripple of complaints and muttered curses spread out through the group.  "You will be assigned a partner, and together you will search for and identify these plants.  Bring back a leaf for each plant in the packet to receive full credit."  

Paulina grimaced and looked down at her shoes for the tenth time that day.  She had thought they'd stay close to the cabins for this trip, and her usual cute flats would have served her just fine on the broad, packed paths cut by hundreds of students' feet in the years before.  But here she was, hiking in them.  The mud was bad enough, but all the uneven terrain was putting creases in the material every time she had to put her weight on the balls of her feet.  And now she was expected to go on a scavenger hunt?  What was she, five?  

"Paulina," Mr. Lancer said with a tired drawl as he read the names written on the brown paper bag on the top of his stack, "you will be partnered with Sam Manson."  He handed her the bag and a packet before moving on to the next group.  

Uhg, perfecto.  I'm with Creepy Manson.  They did this on purpose, didn't they?  Paulina cut her eyes at Sam as she stomped over in her combat boots, looking equally thrilled.  

"How many plants do we have to find?" Sam sighed, taking the packet from her.  She flipped through the pages.  "Well, at least these are all pretty distinctive."  

"I'm sure you're disappointed none of them can lay eggs in my face," Paulina returned with an edge.  She still hadn't forgiven Sam for that incident at the aquarium all those years ago.  

Sam narrowed her eyes, not looking up from the paper.  "Spores."

"What?"

"Plants don't lay eggs.  Some of them have spores."  She folded back a few pages and held up a picture of a fern they were supposed to locate.  "This one can lay spores in your face."  

Paulina raised her hand and waved at the teachers.  "Miss Teslaff, I want a different partner!  I don't want Sam to murder me and bury my body in the woods.  I'm too pretty to die."  

"No changing groups!"  

Paulina huffed and crossed her arms.  "Tough break," Dash said to her as he and Valarie headed off on one of the forks in the path.  

"Good luck!" Kwan chimed in, who was paired with Tucker.  "Hey, you got a plant identifying app on that thing…?"

"Do I ever!"  

Danny put a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder as he followed Mikey uphill.  "Try not to be too hard on her?"  

"No promises," Sam grumbled.  

Soon the path had cleared out except for the two of them and two pairs of band nerds peering over their packets together.  

"Come on, let's get this over with," Sam said at length, grabbing Paulina by the wrist and hauling her off in a random direction.  

"Ow!  Hey, get off of me!"  

Sam did let go, and then scuffled up a tumble of boulders to a trail on higher ground.  Paulina let out a dramatic and frustrated groan before following her up much more slowly.  By the time she caught back up, Sam was standing in the shade of a tree growing out of a split in the rock, studying the packet again.  

"Oriental Thuja?" she said, forehead creased.  "Why would they even put that on here?  It's not native to this area."  

"So we won't be able to find it?" How much is this stupid assignment worth anyway?

"No, it could be here, but it's invasive."

Paulina rolled her eyes.  "Don't tell me you're going to be sacrimonious about plants now too."  

"Oh, of course," Sam returned.  "Because you only like nature if it's pretty and flatters you.  You can't be bothered to learn about something complicated like an ecosystem."  She headed down the trail at a brisk walk, grabbing a sapling and using it as a hand-hold as she swung herself down another steep portion.  

"Would you stop doing that?" Paulina yelled after her, but Sam didn't slow down.  "¡Joder!" she swore under her breath.  Somehow, she was going to make Sam regret this by the end of the day.  She just had to figure out how.  

***

A brooding 45 minutes later, and Sam had found five of the plants they were looking for with little help from Paulina.  

"Next is the purple coned larch…" Sam said, more to the paper held in front of her face than to Paulina.  "We should probably go uphill to look for it…"  Paulina died a little more inside.  No more climbing hills!

"Oh, is that one of the ones that's going to lay spores in my face?" Paulina sniped as Sam strode on ahead for the hundredth time.  "I guess you would end up with some weird kinks after being possessed by an ugly plant ghost."  

"You're the one who brought up the face eggs," Sam said, nonchalant, and notably not slowing down.  "I think that says more about you than about me."  

Paulina clenched her fists.  "Ugh!  You're such a freak, you know that?"

"Aaaand personal attacks mean you have no convincing arguments left in your arsenal!  Looks like it's Sam two, Paulina zero for the day so far."  Sam was steadily moving out of range, and Paulina was forced to follow if she wanted to continue the argument.  She was busy trying to think of a better jab while watching where she put her feet, but Sam beat her to the punch.  "It's kind of sad that you're still hung up on this actually.  Move on already."

Paulina gritted her teeth as the angle of the slope forced her to grab a muddy point of rock to haul herself up with.  "Would it kill you to apologize?  ¡Dios mío!”

"For what?"

"For harassing me with a starfish, Miss Don't-Be-Cruel-To-Animals!"  She stood up and tried to wipe her hand clean on a tree trunk.  "And I mean a real apology, not that stupid letter the teacher made you write."  

"Oh, yeah, to be clear, I didn't mean that apology letter."  

"It was clear," Paulina said, quiet and venomous.    

"I hope you shredded it or something.  I'm kind of embarrassed to have my name on the bottom of it."  

"I threw it in the fireplace as soon as I got home that day."  

"Well, that's a relief," Sam said with a performative grin.  "And no, after what you did to Danny, you'd better believe I'd eat a hot dog before I'd apologize to you."  

"I only went out with Danny to get under your skin!"

"Exactly."

Paulina's hands spasmed between gestures as she tried to collect herself.  "Did you ever think that maybe, if you weren't such a self-absorbed piece of shit, maybe your friends wouldn't get hurt as much?"

Sam's face went blank for a telling second before she focused back on the paper.  Paulina was a little surprised that jab had worked, actually, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  She couldn't think of anything to follow up with, so she decided to allow the silence to be her victory.

And she's back to climbing again.  Someone kill me…

They had almost reached the summit of the hill they were on— Paulina was debating to herself whether it was tall enough to be considered a mountain— when Sam finally found what she was looking for.  The tree she was examining was scrawny and gnarled, squeezing its roots into the veins of available soil, and it was barely taller than they were.  

"I think this is it.  The needles look the same," Sam said, holding up the page for comparison.  "It would help if the picture wasn't in black and white, though."

Paulina cast a glance over the diagram and the plant in front of them.  "No, it doesn't have the little cones," she grumbled.  I swear to god, if we have to climb any higher…

"This one's pretty young.  I don't think it's old enough to have fruited before.  They take a couple of years to get established."  

"Well how can you tell if this is the right one?  There's a thousand different Christmas trees on this hill, and they all look the same."  Paulina shook her head.  "You know, whatever.  Let's just take a branch and go—"  She sputtered to a stop as Sam pushed the packet and paper bag full of samples into her hands.  Paulina adjusted the materials in her hands and watched as Sam stooped down, fished in her combat boot with two fingers, and pulled out something long and thin.  She pulled off the makeshift cap, revealing the stubby tip of a well-used oil pencil.  

Kneeling in front of the tree, Sam drew some intricate shape on the trunk with the dark blue pigment, then murmured something Paulina didn't catch.  In the shadow of the trees branches, Paulina saw the symbol glow faintly green, and the same light snaked up the tree along the ridges in the bark until it reached the closest branch.  With a quiver, the end of the branch put out fresh needles and then a tiny purple cone.  

"See?" Sam said, breaking off the end of the branch.  "Perfect match."

Paulina gaped like a fish. "You— Holy shit, you—"  Magic.  That was honest to god magic!  Paulina felt lightheaded.  She had been… dabbling.  Combing the internet and old bookstores.  At first, she had hoped to find a spell that could summon a ghost, or anything else she could use to get Phantom's attention.  But as the weeks had stretched into months, she had become desperate to find any scrap of genuine magic.  And here it was.  

"Are you— is that Wicca?" she finally managed.

Sam shook her head.  "Semitic Neopaganism.  There's a difference."  

Paulina paused to think on it.  Could I learn Jewish magic if I'm not Jewish?  Would it even work for me?  She chewed on her lip.  What am I saying?  There's no way Manson would teach me anything in the first place.  Then Sam started speaking softly, and Paulina had to shake out of her thoughts to catch it.

"I did think about apologizing," Sam said.  "Properly.  I was… kind of a mess in fifth grade.  Um.  And sixth and seventh too, actually."  Her eyes remained focused on the pine sprig in her hand as she spoke, slowly rotating it between her fingers.  "I've never liked you.  But that didn't make it right for me to pick on you."  She stood up and took back their paper bag, tucking the sample inside.  "But then you pulled Danny into it.  So, I'll never apologize."  She finally looked up and met Paulina's gaze.  "And neither will you."  Paulina opened her mouth to retort, only to realize that Sam was an image of perfect calm.  It was not an accusation, not a barb, just a statement.  And Paulina had no idea how to respond.  "We're both petty bitches," Sam continued. "It's in our natures.  So… let's just move on."  She extended a hand to Paulina.  "Deal?"  

The offered hand was stiff and formal, as if this were a business meeting rather than two sweaty girls talking on a hiking trail, but Paulina saw an earnestness in it.  Slowly, she reached out and slid her own palm into Sam's.  

"Deal."  She watched Sam for a moment, her unwavering gaze, the ridiculous purple contacts, the stillness which had come over her, like a stone come to rest.  Not sophisticated or refined, as Paulina sought to be, but… very Sam.  Very self-assured, in a way Paulina pretended not to admire.  "We don't like each other."

"Naturally."  Sam released her hand and turned to head back down the slope.  

"But we… don't hate each other either.  We just... are.  Now."  

Paulina saw the little quirk of a smile enter Sam's lips.  "Yeah."  

"And maybe… we can talk about magic sometimes?"  She shook her head, slightly embarrassed. "Like, over text, so nobody gets the wrong idea?"

Sam chuckled.  "Yeah.  That sounds fun."  

A smile crept over Paulina's face in spite of her attempt to hide it.  Oh, what does it matter?  Sam's not looking at me anyway.  She gave herself a moment to squeal silently in her head.  Real magic!  She'd found someone who knew real magic!  She shook her head again.  Of course it would be Manson.  Of course.  

She picked up her pace, in spite of her sore feet, in spite of the damage she was doing to her shoes, to catch up to Sam.  It was easier going downhill.  "What do we still have to find?"  

Sam extended the packet to her, pointing to one of the plants.  "Just two left, lady fern and honeysuckle.  They both like to grow near water, so I saved them for last.  We can head down and check the creek on our way back."  Oh thank god, we're almost done.  Paulina leaned in to get a better look at the fern diagram.  "You know, there's a spell I've been working on that uses ferns.  Maybe we should grab a couple extra?"  

Paulina squealed out loud this time, and clapped a hand over her mouth.  "Sorry," she mumbled through her fingers.  "Solemn.  Solemn goth witch."  She folded her hands in front of her and tried to look composed.  Sam laughed.  

"Nah, you don't have the wardrobe for that.  Go on, be as pink as you'd like."  She stepped down a bank of tree roots and held a branch back for Paulina to follow in her wake.  Paulina paused in surprise before accepting the gesture.

This will take some getting used to.  

[oonathefaewitch]

Hey so I'm a self-taught witch who practices independently and I was hoping to learn a little bit from others as well. Do you have any books/resources/people you recommend looking into?

Hi there!

I'm a self-taught witch as well and I'm still at the beginning of my journey, at the moment I'm yet to finish the big blue book Buckland's Complete Book of Witchcraft of which I'm also sharing the lessons (you can find tose posts in my archive here) so for now I can only really recommend that one, but I'm marking down all the recommendend supplementary redings at the end of every lesson if you wanna check them out!

I'm also reading a very interesting and complete book about tarot called Holistic Tarot which i really recommend, it's a bit expensive maybe but it's totally worth it

Other than that I can write down here the list of recommended reading at the end of the blue book (with extra books other than the ones already listed at the end of every lesson), I can't recommend those personally (even if I did buy some of them but I still have to read them) but I think they're worth a shot if you'd like to know more, I'll add the other two I mentioned above in the list, in any case if you find other books online read carefully all the reviews cause many books are not serious about this topic

Also I'm not sure but I think these books below are all from white people and mainly about white cultures (and most of them are very old), so If you (or anyone else) have some recommendations about other cultures' book about witchcraft or ancient traditions I'd be glad to know more about that too!

As for people and other resources, I follow some witches on Twitter that shares interesting stuff, it would be too long to link all of their profiles so I can give you directly the list of people I follow here

I hope you'll find this helpful~

Color Healng by Mary Anderson

Gods and Goddesses of Ancient Greece by Edward E. Jr Barthell

Crystal Gazing by Theodore Besterman

I-Ching: The Book of Changes by J. Blofeld

Primitive Song by C. M. Bowra

Gerald Gardner: Witch by J. L. Bracelin

The Lost Gods of England by Brian Branston

Development of Religion and Thought is Ancient Egypt by J. H. Breasted

Buckland's Complete Book of Witchcraft / Amazing Secrets of the Psychic World / Color Magick / Gypsy Dream Dictionary / A Pocket Guide to the Supernatural / Practical Candleburning Rituals / Scottish Witchcraft & Magick / The Tree: Complete Book of Saxon Witchcraft / Wicca For Life / The Witch Book: Encyclopedia of Witchcraft, WIcca and Neopaganism / Witchcraft From the Inside by Raymond Buckland

The Holy Book of Women's Mysteries by Zsuzsanna Budapest

Amulets and Talismans by Sir E. A. Wallis Budge

Egyptian Language by Oxford University Press

How to Read the Aura, Practice Psychometry, Telepathy and Clairvoyance by W.E. Butler

Ancient Ways by Dan and Pauline Campanelli

Handbook of Unusual and Unorthodox Healing by J. V. Carney

Handbook of Bach Flower Remedies by Philip M. Chancellor

Color Therapy by Linda Clark

Precious Stones: Their Occult Power and Hidden Significance by W. B. Crow

Lid Off the Cauldron / The Witches Speak Athol by Patricia Crowther

Complete Herbal by Nicholas Culpeper

Earth Power / Living Wicca / Magical Herbalism by Scott Cunningham

Practical Guide to Astral Projection by Melita Dennings and Osborne Phillips

The Silent Path by Michael Eastcott

Patterns of Comparative Religion / Rites and Symbols of Initiation - Birth and Rebirth by Mircea Eliade

The Dream Game by Ann Faraday

What Witches Do / Eight Sabbats For Witches / The Witches' Way by Janet and Stewart Farrar

Magical Rites From the Crystal Well by Ed Fitch

The Golden Bought by Sir James G. Frazer

The Wisdom of Pagan Philosophers by Timothy Freke and Peter Gandy

Totem and Taboo by Sigmund Freud

Witchcraft Today / The Meaning of Witchcraft / High Magic's Aid / A Goddess Arrives by Gerald Gardner

Complete Herbal by Gerard

Stalking the Healthful Herbs by Euell Gibbons

Witchcraft, the Sixth Sense, and Us by Justine Glass

Seasonal Occult Rituals by William Gray

The Encyclopedia of Witches and Witchcraft by Rosemay Ellen Guiley

Ancient Art and Ritual Kessinger by Jane E. Harrison

Palmistry, the Whole View by Judith Hipskind

Myth and Ritual by S. H. Hooke

Witch: A Magickal Journey by Fiona Horne

The Runes and Other Magical Alphabets by Michael Howard

Witchcraft by Penethorne Hughes

Memories Dreams and Reflections by Carl G. Jung

Aradia, Gospel of the Witches of Italy by Charles Godfrey Laland

Witches: Investigating an Ancient Religion / Gogmagog - the Buried Gods by T. C. Lethbridge

Healing For Everyone by E. Loomis and J. Paulson

Numerology by Vincent Lopez

Commond and Uncommond Uses of Herbs of Healthful Living by Richard Lucas

The Herb Book by John Lust

Pagan Parenting by Kristin Madden

Witta: An Irish Pagan Tradition by Edain McCoy

The Principles and Practice of Radiesthesia by Abbè Mermet

The Hearbalist by J. E. Meyer

The Craft by Dorothy Morrison

Green Witchcraft series by Ann Aoumiel Moura

Sexual Occultism by John Mumford

The Family Wicca Book by Ashleen O'Gaea

Reclaim the Power of the Witch by Monte Plaisance

Potter's New Cyclopedia of Botanical Drugs and Preparations by R. C. Potter

How to Make and Use Talismans / The Art of True Healing by Israel Regardie

The Seventh Sense by Kenneth Roberts

High Magic's Aid by Scire

The Book of Charms and Alisman by Sepharial

The Spiral Dance by Starhawk

The Devil in Massachusetts by Marion L. Starkey

Medical Palmistry by Marten Steinbach

Is This Your Day? by George S. Thommen

Magic and Healing by C. J. S. Thompson

Where Witchcraft Lives / An ABC of Witchcraft Past and Present / Witchcraft For Tomorrow by Doreen Valiente

The Rites of Passage by Arnold Van Gennep

Herbal Manual by H. Ward

Holistic Tarot by Benebell Wen

The I-Ching by R. Wilhelm

The Christians As the Romans Saw Them by Robert L. Wilken

The Complete Idiot's Guide to Wicca and Witchcraft by Denise Zimmermann and Katherine A. Gleason

[all0nsyidjits]

Guess I'm going to out myself here just a bit. I'm a Lokean. In fact I'm a Godspouse have been since July of 2011. I came to realize who the imaginary friend I had as a kid who never really went away was via pop culture. Before you roll your eyes and dismiss me as a Marvel Loki fangirl let me explain. I didn't fall in love with Tom Hiddleston or his version of Loki. In fact a whole other fandom brought me to Loki. See I'm a fan of the show Supernatural and a favorite character was Gabriel who starts off as the Trickster then it is revealed that he is really the archangel Gabriel who skipped out of heaven and hid his true identity by pretending to be a trickster god, Loki to be exact. I wanted to write a fanfiction about Gabriel's time posing as Loki but I knew shit all about Norse mythology aside from the names of some of the Gods and Godessess. So I started researching and reading the lore and by accident stumbled across a few Lokean blogs. Shortly after Loki showed up and I proceeded to start to question my sanity. I'd gotten into Wicca in my early teens so I had some concept of Pagan deities and all things woo. Still having a god show up and just want to hang out and talk freaked me right the heck out. When he started flirting I was sure I'd completely lost my shit. Slowly he calmed me down and earned my trust. I found others who had been His for a long time and they helped me navigate this new relationship.

Then the Thor movies came out and suddenly everytime I went online there was a new Lokean Godspouse. Loki is not one to waste free PR I guess. I stayed active in the community for awhile but then the cattiness of some in the community made me decide to go solitary. Years passed I rarely missed the community. Loki and I just did our own thing. Sometimes Loki would be gone for some pretty long stretches. Still he was here and things were good.

Then 2020 happened. Look in all honesty I can be a bit of an introvert. I tend to withdraw from people if I sense to much conflict or tension. It's not so much my true nature but more a trauma response to withdraw. My childhood was well complicated. But I'm getting off track here what I mean to say is 2020 was a really shitty year for me and my family. In June I cought Covid 19 I never got all that sick, but the body aches and fatigue never quite went away. Then at the end of July my husband who is diabetic and has neuropathy stepped on a tac and ended up with MRSA. He nearly lost his foot and could have died. He was hospitalized for a month and out of work for three. I worked myself to a frazzle. At one point I had three jobs and was on the clock for 23 hours and 45 minutes one day. I was headed for a breakdown. My husband physically seemed to be on the mend, but his personality was no longer the kind, easygoing affectionate, man I had known for nearly twenty years. Then came the suicide attempt. Like I said it's been a rough since about this time last year.

When my husband made the suicide attempt Loki showed back up worried about both of us. Loki and my mortal husband know about each other. They like each other so please nobody suggest that Loki is trying to get rid of my mortal husband. When we married the priestess who married us was well aware that Loki was part of the ceremony and that I was marrying the both of them. We've been happily married and Loki always felt like I would be okay during his absences because I had someone else that he trusted there with me.

At first Loki tried to be my distraction from all the stress, he's really good at that. Then Loki started to worry I worried about mortal hubby and Loki worried about me. Many pleas to slow down before I had a breakdown too and Loki finally put his foot down I had to learn to say no and I had to take care of me if I was going to take care of anybody else. Finally the tears and the exhaustion came after my husband told a lie that made me look like a very bad person. My mother-in-law went off on me I had been up for three days with only about four hours sleep and those weren't even consecutive hours and I was reduced to a sobbing mess. Like so many times before Loki was there to catch me He let me cry, He let me rage, when the worst had passed I looked at Him.

"So I guess being the God of change you're going to tell me to throw away twenty years of my life and file for divorce." I asked.

"Oh you think you know me so well Little One." Even at a such a solemn moment Loki can't resist using an old nickname from back in my childhood when he was the imaginary friend who took me on wild adventures far away from whatever was going on at home at the time. It had went from term of affection for a child he had chosen to protect to a teasing dig at my 5'3 height compared to well all of Them.

"Well aren't you?" I asked.

"Little one besides being the God of Change what else am I?" I start to rattle off titles and associations.

No let me rephrase that Little One who am I married to who are my Wives his voice somehow conveying the capital W that lets me know it is Sigyn and Angrboda he speaks of.

"Sigyn and Angrboda" I say.

And what Little one is my precious Sigyn the Goddess of?

Fidelity I answer and then it hits me She had stuck by Him through far worse.

So I'm here I'm staying but there are days when I just wish I had someone to talk to. Someone human.

This year has been hard the isolation brought on by Covid 19 precautions is wearing on everyone in one way or another I think. Add to that the fact that I live in a very rural, very Conservative Christian area where I have to hide my witchy ways. Knowing full well just how many people in my life would utterly abandon me if they knew about Loki and my true beliefs. I can't talk about Him to well anyone besides my oldest and there are things about being a godspouse you wouldn't want to discuss with your kid. I used to have my husband but now talking to him about the most mundane things is a cross between walking on eggshells and navigating a mine field. I got lonely, really lonely.

Against my better judgement I decided to dip my toe back into the Lokean Community after walking away from all the groups, blogs, message boards ect in about 2013. So about 7 years as a solitary Lokean witch and I was ready to test the waters again.

I found a Lokean on social media (I don't want to draw any negative attention to this person because they are doing a fantastic job with what they are doing) so much of what they were saying resonated with me and I wanted to talk. Hey maybe I could make a friend. I commented maybe a bit too much. I meant no harm I was just excited to talk to someone after so long keeping it all to myself. Well that went spectacularly wrong and I ended up with someone who I'm pretty sure thinks of me as a rival or an enemy now. Loki being Loki was quick to remind me that my ramblings don't offend everyone. I had commented on a completely unrelated post about Him a few days earlier and within hours of the well I fucked up incident I'm reading a post by someone thanking me for talking about how I experience Loki because it resonated with them an affirmed a few things.

Then Loki was like I want you to start talking about me. I want you to rejoin the community. I was like oh hell to the no. Well you can see who won that argument. So here I am hoping I don't come to regret this.

[ankewehner]

Livetweet of accidentally getting into fairyland...

Best twitter thread ever?

https://twitter.com/NeolithicSheep/status/1330548523721515013 Shepherd: Oh hey Ursula, do you have the number for those people who take out invasive plants still?

Ursula: Probably somewhere, yeah. They said they didn’t usually work on such small properties, though, and I don’t know if I’ve got an infestation worth their time.

Shepherd: Ok but what if I say "kudzu" to you, can we throw enough money at them to make it worth their time.

Ursula: If you say “kudzu” to me, I will panic, scream, and come running to Dogskull with a flamethrower.

Shepherd: Ok well I suggest driving but maybe pack up the flamethrower. Ursula: OH MY GOD YOU FOUND KUDZU OH GOD WHERE IS IT ARE YOU SURE IT ISN’T JUST WILD GRAPE

Shepherd: YES I KNOW WHAT WILD GRAPE LOOKS LIKE THANK YOU anyway I was walking Beamer this morning after the deer ate breakfast and the white deer was walking down toward the back of the property, you know that low tucked away part? And I thought, well, we'll just trail after her at a polite distance and if I'm lucky I'll find some of her fur caught on a bush! Wouldn't that be great! So we kept going past the big ass fucking oak trees that make, like, that weird arch? And there's kudzu.

Ursula: What big oak trees?! There’s no big oak trees back there! It’s all pine!

Shepherd: Yeah you know, the two really big motherfuckers that look like English oak. They're like, way the fuck back there.

Ursula: There are no English oak on Dogskull. Are you sure you weren’t trespassing on the Freemason’s property?

Shepherd: No they're closer to the front I think? Who's next door to them? Also I thought Dog Skull was 7 acres? Because I should be off it and hitting the road by now.

Ursula: Next door to them is the people with the trailer on its side. Do you see any trailers lying on their sides?

Shepherd: A lot of oak trees, a little bit of kudzu, zero trailers in any orientation. Some birds and squirrels. Oh hey Beamer found a nice pond.

Ursula: Okay, this is important. Do the oak trees still have leaves on them?

Shepherd: Yeah but so does the one up front. Oh wait. These are, uh, still green. Like summer green.

Ursula: Right. Okay. This could be a problem. Give me a couple minutes, we have to take trash to the dump and then I’ll look some stuff up. Meanwhile, DON’T EAT ANYTHING.

Shepherd: You mean in case it's poisonous, right? Like THEORETICALLY if I didn't see this tweet until just now and HYPOTHETICALLY I found an apple tree and ate an apple, that would be fine?

Ursula: ...that would not be fine.

Shepherd: Beamer didn't want any, which was weird I thought.

Ursula: INDUCE VOMITING! INDUCE VOMITING!

Shepherd: He didn't eat anything! I'm not going to gag my dog for not eating an apple!

Ursula: Not the dog! Induce vomiting in yourself! Every chunk of that apple needs to come out before you digest it!

Shepherd: FINE. I have puked it up. It was a really good apple, too.

Ursula: Oh thank god. Whew. Okay. The alternative was that you were gonna need a cold iron enema and I wasn’t sure how to do that on short notice.

Shepherd: Oh hey fun fact, "cold iron" is just, like, iron. It's not a special kind or anything!

Ursula: Do you have any on you right now? Beamer’s collar or tags or anything?

Shepherd: Collar hardware is all aluminum these days, otherwise it rusts. Let me pat down my pockets. Syringe of dewormer? Is that helpful?

Shepherd: Anyway I don't want to alarm you but uh. I can't find the trail I followed? So you and Kevin will need to go over tonight and give the boys [i.e. oxen] a hay bale and the goats and sheep two.

Ursula: No! I am scared of cows! We have to get you out of there! Look, I have a bunch of Llewelyn books from my teenage pagan days. I’m sure Scott Cunningham or Silver Ravenwolf covered this somewhere.

Shepherd: Scott Cunningham seems like a really drastic measure just because you're afraid of some cows. But sooner or later I'm going to run out of cigarettes so sure, why not. Oh!! The boys' bow pins are in my pocket, I was going to sand them today and oil them! They're very definitely iron!

Ursula: That’s good! That’s very good! If anyone tries to talk to you, keep hold of those! Now let’s see...do you consider yourself a “solitary practitioner?”

Shepherd: Ursula I'm an ornamental hermit, you don't get much more solitary. Also so far the only person who tried to talk to me was a frog.

Ursula: ...what did the frog say?

Shepherd: "SMOKING KILLS." I tossed it back in the pond.

Ursula: *rubs forehead*

Shepherd: Fucking frogs are all alike, I'm telling you.

Ursula: I really wish these authors had spent less time on “why Wicca isn’t Satanism” and more time on “what to do when you’ve strayed into the fae realms.” I mean, I understand it was the political climate of the time...

Shepherd: I feel like nobody really covers that last one anymore. You have 4 hours until the cows want dinner.

Ursula: Silver Ravenwolf suggests making your magical working space more inviting with stencils? These books spend a surprising amount of time on interior decorating as a vital part of ritual magick. I never noticed that when I was fifteen.

Shepherd: Yeah me neither honestly. It's remarkably unhelpful when you're stuck in faerie and your collie is getting bored. Shepherd: So you want me to... Build a magical working space and stencil it?

Ursula: I can’t actually see how that would help matters. Maybe I should check the Foxfire books instead.

Shepherd: I... Don't remember them having anything relevant, but I might be wrong?

Ursula: They have everything. Ooh, this one is about how to scald the bristles off a hog!

Shepherd: A) I already know how to do that and B) I do not have a hog, sufficient firewood, or a hog scrubbing brush here. FOCUS, URSULA. FOCUS.

Ursula: Sorry, the ADHD meds haven’t kicked in yet today...uh...let’s see...avoid whippoorwills, if you see any?

Shepherd: I do that already, otherwise they steal your toenails.

Ursula: If you harvest apples, leave one on the tree or it attracts the Devil.

Shepherd: You told me not to eat the apples! Am I allowed to eat the apples now??

Ursula: No! These are hypothetical apples! NO EATING! I tried to look up deer in the Foxfire books and there’s a story about somebody’s grandpa wrestling a buck in a mill dam and drowning it, but I don’t see the relevance here. I mean, Grandpa does sound like a badass, though.

Shepherd: I feel like I shouldn't wrestle deer here. What if I try telling Beamer to find his sheep? 

Ursula: Well, research has hit a small snag. I tried googling for the foxfire books and kudzu, in case there was something about fae kudzu portals, right? But it turns out your Twitter is the third hit. Shep, we may BE the experts.

Shepherd: Uh oh. OK. In that case, you and Kevin go over to Dog Skull. Hitch up Cole and Cannon and take them back to the oak trees. Put a logging chain around one and yell real loud "LET SHEPHERD OUT OR WE START PULLING"

Ursula: Oh hell no! I read tree law Reddit! I know how this ends! Do you want us to get sued by Freemasons?! 

Shepherd: I DON'T THINK THE FREEMASONS ARE THE PROBLEM HERE, URSULA

Ursula: I DON’T TRUST THEM WITH THEIR LITTLE LEVELS AND SHEEPSKINS AND WEIRDLY OCULAR PYRAMIDS Also if you see a pyramid with an eye on it, don’t eat it’s either.

Ursula: Okay. Never mind the Freemasons. I wrote a book about this once, I think. White animals, scary fae, random magic deer. It was set in Finland, so you may need to fashion some umlauts, though.

Shepherd: I've got my chore knife, I can carve so many umlauts. Do I just put them in trees until I get back?

Ursula: First of all, are you wearing pants?

Shepherd: YES I'M WEARING PANTS YOU WEIRDO

Ursula: t’s a legitimate question! I mean, I’m not wearing pants.

Now Shep, this is very important. You have to take off your pants.

Also your shoes, your hoodie, and probably Beamer’s collar.

Shepherd: Ursula. Why are we getting naked.

Ursula: To break the misdirection spell! Put your clothes on backwards!

And possibly inside out? Shit, there’s a bunch of different sources. I don’t know if they have to be inside out, but definitely backwards.

Uh...let’s see...hmm, backwards definitely. Inside out might be for leshy. Leshies? Leshys? What’s the plural form, do you think?

If you happen to see any giggling green hairy dudes, ask them what the plural form of their name is. That’s gonna bug me.

Shepherd: Beamer's collar doesn't have a backwards! I'll turn it inside out. And my clothes backwards and inside out, got it. 

Shepherd: There's just, like, frogs. And squirrels. I can hear music though! There might be a dance party, I could go ask about green hairy dudes?

Ursula: STAY AWAY FROM THE MUSIC unless it’s the Freemasons I guess 

Shepherd: No it's more folk music. The Freemasons play, like, Michael Jackson. 

ANYWAY clothes are backwards and inside out. Beamer's collar is backwards and just to be thorough I tied the rope end of his leash to his collar instead of using the clip, so his leash is backwards too. He's pulling me away from the pond! 

Ursula: Tell him to go find his sheep! 

Shepherd: I have so instructed him! Hopefully there's not, like, the faerie equivalent of really good sheep here. Hey do you want me to grab you an apple 

Ursula: No, they don’t come true from seed, but if you can cut me a decent slightly whippy twig with a few leaves, I might be able to root that sucker. 

Shepherd: ...you want me to pause a collie on a mission while I test the whippiness of twigs?? 

I HEAR MOOING. I SEE PINE TREES. 

Ursula: GO TOWARD THE MOOING

Shepherd: THERE'S THE OLD RUSTED OUT METAL THING! I'm back! On uh the opposite side of the property from the one I left from.

Also there's a goddamned chorus frog calling. 

Ursula: Yeah, they do that.

Ursula: THANK GOD THE KUDZU IS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PORTAL

...oh, and you’re back, that’s good too. Very pleased.

Shepherd: Anyway you don't have to feed the boys. Unless you want to?

Ursula: There is no situation where I will WANT to feed your giant-ass death bovines.

Also, what have we learned about following the white doe into the woods?

Shepherd: She knows where the really good apples are? 

Also my boys are tiny!!

Ursula: ...I’m gonna go take a nap.

[lady-lycany]

Hey my name is Morgan and I'm a Therian/Otherkin. I know I'm a Wolfe for my whole live. I start reading the book about Werwolf magick too. Do you have any connections maybe to the wolf wicca tradition?

Hope it's okey that I write you. Because I know that I'm a Wolfe but I couldn't live it my whole live. Because my family couldn't accept it. But now I'm married and my wife is really open and is full accepted if I tell her that she is married a Wolfe 🐺.

Best wishes Morgan

Hello Morgan ^^ Nice to meet you! You can call me Tori :3 I'm glad that you found someone you can be open with, when it comes to being a wolf :3

To be honest, I hear about wicca for the first time ^^ I know that I'm a werewolf, since I was 12-13, Now I'm 21 and this year I came into contact with other people like me, for the first time ^^ I always was the weird kid, that only played to be a pet :D... I guess, I was trying to find myself... and after some of my toughest years (moved far away from my family-... my pack... lost two pets in a short period of time and got a stepmonster-dad who treated me like trash for years) I found out, that I'm wolf ^^ and it definitely helped me to stay strong... I never thought, that there would be so many people out there, that are like me... I went through some tuff phases of my life, that I wish would've never happened, but I think, that it was all a process, to find out who and how I really am... I bought the WolfMagick book, to get a stronger bond to my wolfside, but since they mostly talk about a wild, bloodthirsty animal, I cannot identify with it anymore ^^ (at least I'm trying my best). When it comes to Werewolves, I think it's the humanside, that makes the creature dangerous... but not the animalside ^^ (It would take some time to explain why I think so, but maybe you already know my point ^^) I'm definitely curious for the ritual chapters, but before I practice anything, I will probably read it twice or even three times, to remember the things I've learned ^^ It was really amazing to read about mother earth, Gaia, since I always had a strong bond to the earth & the nature :3 I guess, slowly everything comes together ^-^

[whimsywit]

Hi! may i order a red velvet truffle please? btw my pronouns are she/her!

Zodiac; Aries

Gender preference: none

Age Preference: none

Likes: Animals, Exploring, Learning new things, Fashion, Sweets, and the Arts

Dislikes: Open mouth chewing, Childish humor, Ignorance

Hobbies: cooking, tango dancing, volunteering, guitar, reading, knitting, learning Italian

Talents: Art, observing others, socializing, public speaking, creativity, a lot of self awareness, able to bounce back from set backs in life easily

Positive Qualities: Kind, intelligent, creative, empath, passionate, sassy, adventurous, social

Negative Qualities: stubborn, finds it hard to let things go, pushes people away who have hurt me out of fear of being hurt even more

Fears: clowns, heartbreak, being out of control, abandonment, exclusion

Aspirations: to travel as much as i can! to find a career that makes me happy and provides for me, and live with no regrets or “what-ifs”, and to finish my 300 paged bucket list skskskk

Admired Qualities in Others: Passion, Honesty, Intelligence, Genuineness, Ambition, strength and a warm presence!

Avoided Qualities in Others: Arrogance, Bigotry, emotional unavailableness, lack of empathy or compassion

Extra: Im a native irish girl and i can get quite insecure of my accent, i love dark humor (to an extent of course), i love making things for others, i love spending time with my family, and i love playing card games! I also practice wicca, and love the beach! thank you!! xoxo

Hey! Thanks for requesting and supporting my blog 🤗 This is simultaneously an unlikely but obvious pairing imo, but either way I hope you like being matched with...

Fumikage Tokoyami!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Though he might not have the sunniest disposition out of his group of friends, that in no way means he’s cold or closed off! He readily shares and cooperates with his teammates, and always puts his heart into whatever he’s doing even if that happens to be just looking cool lmao, which are all qualities that made me think of him for you.

The thing that would instantly pull you two together though? WICCA :D He doesn’t actively practice, but we all know how involved he is with the dark and arcane, and is simply bursting at the seams to finally have someone to share and discuss his interests with! You two go on and on about it, oml people can’t shut you up it’s super cute. Not only that, he loves your dark humor (he makes jokes about dying all the time after all) and even your accent, as I bet he has a cursory interest in Celtic and Gaelic history and influences and the like. I guess you can say you’re... birds of a feather? Please, hold your applause folks, I’ll be here all week 😌💅🏼

Gosh actually he loves everything about you—your mind, your radiance, perseverance, creative interests, how well you balance it out with your darker tastes, even finding your stubbornness endearing. Fumikage calls you all sorts of dramatic titles, “the light at the end of his swirling dark tunnel,” “his salvation from despair and decay,” “the gorgeous flower in the midst of his endless wood,” yeah okay you get the point, he loves you with every ounce of his birdy heart, and could never dream of hurting you! He shares your fears of being left out or losing control of dark shadow too, and so you two work on these together while reassuring each other all the way.

I can see plenty of your days together people-watching and eventually moving into people-talking (he greatly appreciates your social know-how, poor awkward bird boy), while nights spent in more intimate company. Whether it’s playing cards, reading, or studying languages together, he’ll love having you to himself, and’ll even find himself nuzzling and preening you with his beak absentmindedly remind me to write about that later guys there’s so much potential there holy moly. Maybe if he’s in the mood, even teaching him how to tango? He’d be very flustered, but that’s just because he doesn’t know to handle something so cliche and romantic with you, so take the opportunity to tease him cause I promise seeing his feathers ruffled like that is one of the 7 wonders of the world ùwú

AHHH SPEAKING OF WHICH (im awesome at transitions right?) HE’D BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO TRAVEL WITH YOU!! Even more so if you can visit ruins or other ancient places, he eats that stuff up. He cherishes having you in his life so deeply, and will help you achieve any goals you desire, no matter how long the list may be, and with a guy like that at your side I promise you’ll have no regrets 🤗

[tazzytypes]

Apocalypse: Sanctuary - Chapter 3

Hey guys! Things are starting to get real in this chapter and Michael will be appearing in the next one (finally). I know I write a loot per chapter for the most part, but I get super into each and last detail. Trust me, it will all make sense in the end.

Read on AO3!

Time was a pesky beast. Sometimes it moved by you like the wind, gone before you could realize it was there. Other times it was thick as honey, your body burning in protest as you waded through it. Too much of either was enough to make you go mad. Then again, her sanity had been on a thread since the bombs dropped.

After 18 months — a year and a half, 547.5 days, or 13,140 hours if you wanted to get really particular — it was a wonder any of them were still alive.

After hours spent in the library, the Three Musketeers had found that nuclear winter lasted about 3 years on average. What they had found, however, failed to specify the radiation levels after those years. Eventually, they threw in the towel and resigned themselves to spending the rest of their days underground. The library instead became their oasis where no other resident dared to trespass.

Em had attempted to start drawing again, but Coco relentlessly asked for her portrait any time she pulled out her sketchbook. She swore the woman could hear the scrape of pencil against paper from anywhere in the Outpost. It was an artist’s worse nightmare.

Timothy had tried to entice the other two to work out with him. After the third meal cutback, they couldn’t even do a sit-up without their head becoming light and the world spinning around them.

The walls seemed to grow tighter and tighter around her. At night, the darkness was so suffocating that Em rushed to light a candle before it swallowed her whole. In those moments she felt like Atlas, smothered by the weight of the world on top of her. If she could just see the blue sky and feel cold air upon her skin she would be in heaven. Instead, endless anxieties plagued her — what if there was a cave-in? Was she running out of air or just panicking? It was so stale and cling to her despite it being circulated by a machine she could not see. She was choking to death and the walls would come closer and closer until they became her tomb.

The stabbing sensation in her hand drew her from the flood of thoughts, hands white as they curled around the cover of a book. Once again, the three musketeers gathered in the library. It at least kept their minds active and it had become Em’s personal goal to read each and every book in the outpost, shelves in nearly every nook and cranny. It was her own personal Alexandria.

Timothy laid back on a couch throwing a ball he had found up and down. The sound of it hitting the palm of his hand was like a metronome, bringing her back in synch with the world.

Emily, on the other hand, seemed to be physically exhibiting the anxiety Em internalized. She was pacing a hole into the carpet, arms crossed and jaw clenched.

“It’s October,” She said as she turned and walked back across the small clearing of couches and tables, “We’ve been here for 18 months.”

“Already?” Em asked, counting weeks on her hand. Wait… when did this week start? Did she count days by when she slept or when she ate? Without sun or a moon, they didn’t even have a concept of night and day. Just periods of sleep and consciousness.

“Already?” Emily echoed, voice going up an octave, “it’s felt like years.”

“Technically a year,” Timothy pointed out, quickly backtracking as Emily sent him a look, “but it’s not like Venable is passing out calendars or anything.”

Emily scoffed, “Venable isn’t doing anything… you know, I bet she’s hoarding food for herself.”

“Why do that when she can just chop up another person and eat them.”

Emily sent him another scathing glare, “not funny.”

Em sighed and shut her book with a loud thump, “What we need is a distraction.”

Timothy closed his eyes and stopped throwing his ball, hand held up in the air, “I think I may face the cannibals if we have to play Pictionary one more time.”

The brunette placed her book aside, biting her lip as she thought of something… anything to distract them from the world.

“It’s October, right?” she finally proposed, “What about some scary stories? We already have a bonfire… pretty much everywhere.”

Timothy sat up, “isn’t our predicament enough of a horror story?”

Em turned on her heel, hands behind her back as she tainted him, “What? Are you scared?”

“No!”

“Then prove it.” A smile finally returned to Emily’s face as she flounced towards the boy, coming to sit at his side. Her expression reminded Em of a cat, content and ready to watch the mice dance. “Tell us a story, Mr. Valedictorian.”

He shook his head and sighed, “I don’t know…”

“Did you guys ever have that book,” Em asked, “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark?”

Emily gasped, “Yes! They made it into a movie, right? I could never sleep after just seeing those pictures.”

“Made Texas Chainsaw Massacre seem like a picnic,” Timothy noted, earning a laugh from Emily. She leaned into him and Em looked to the side towards the rows and rows of books.

“What even were the stories about?” Em asked, turning from the smitten couple to give them some form of privacy, “I can only remember the pictures.”

Emily stood, placing her hands on her hips as she surveyed their surroundings, “for all the book they have in this place there’s got to be a copy. It was a school, after all.”

“I don’t know…” Em teased, side eyeing Timothy, “ … if any of the boys were like Timothy.”

“For the last time: I’m not scared!”

“We’ll see about that as soon as we find that book,” Emily said, pulling the boy to his feet before turning to Em, “Timothy and I can take the first three rows and you can take the last two.”

“Careful,” Em warned, watching the two saunter off down an aisle, “Mead’s only going to buy me saying y’all are ‘just friends’ for so long.”

Timothy’s face flushed red. Emily’s face shined with a look that dared the world to take from her the one good thing she had found among the ashes. “Can’t let Venable control all aspects of our life.”

“Maybe she’s a vampire,” Em said, “some people say they feed on misery instead of blood.”

“She’s certainly got the personality of one.”

With a smile, the two disappeared from sight, Emily’s giggling reaching through the books to Em’s ears. With a tired sigh, she wandered to the other side of the room. Once upon a time, she would spend hours in any bookstore or library she entered. This place, however, seemed to be predominantly filled with books written by old white men. A few newer books were scattered here and there, but they were few and far between. On bad days, Emily and herself would battle for them with rounds and rounds of rock, paper, scissors.

She quickly fell into a rhythm. A state of focus, her brother would have said. He had been writing a book on the subject before... before...

 “Thoreau… Douglas...” Em mouthed the title an name of each and every book to keep her mind from wandering to the less than pleasant.

At some point, Timothy joined her. The sound of feet against carpet pulled her from her trance, forcing her to feel how tired her eyes had become. She pulled out of her crouched position, frowning as her back popped and protested.

“You’d think they’d at least have one scary book,” Em noted as Timothy made it to her side, “any luck on y’all’s end?”

“If you count Hawthorne as a horror author.”

“I don’t know… you could count The Birthmark as a horror story.”

“The Birthmark?”

“A woman born with a birthmark marries an alchemist. Instead of accepting her, he seeks out how to obtain perfect beauty and—”

“Guys!” Emily’s voice rang out from a row over, “Come look at this!”

The pair looked at each other then meandered over to Emily. A large tome was in her arms. It was as large as a small child, thick as the old dictionaries from reference sections. As they got closer, Em saw the cover lacked any discernable title and the pages were yellowed with age.

“What is it?” Timothy asked, pacing a hand on Emily’s shoulder.

Emily was clearly in awe, “I don’t know. Looks like some sort of grimoire.”

Timothy frowned at that. His family had never been particularly religious. It didn’t define their personality, but they still went to church every Sunday. The first thing they teach you as a Christian child is that those who commune with Satan are evil. There were two columns of items... one good and aligned with God and one bad and alighted with Satan.  

He thought back to his first day in Outpost 3. At first, he had dismissed it as a trauma-induced hallucination. “What kind of school has grimoires?”

“Religious studies?” Em offered. She motioned to the book, “let me see. Not going to lie, I’ve always been fascinated by these things.”

Emily carefully handed the book off to her. It was so heavy Em nearly dropped it as soon as Emily handed it over. Struggling ever slightly, she turned through the pages.

“See anything?” Emily asked after a few moments of silence.

The pages were well kept. A few water marks marred the writing and bled the ink. Most of it was illegible... in some language she didn’t understand with few English translations scattered throughout. The clearest page called to her, a large circular design taking up most of it.

“Summoning circles,” she muttered, fingers tracing over the design and tracing down towards the words written underneath.

“What?” Timothy asked, scooting closer.

“They're used in rituals to summon things.”

“Such as?”

“Good intentions, luck, money, sprits...”

“...Demons” Timothy finished.

“Exactly!”

“So... like a pentagram?” Emily asked, arms crossed and brows furrowed in thought.

“Kind of?” Em admitted, “pentagrams are actually symbolic of fire, water, earth, air, and spirit. It’s actually supposed to be used in protection.”

Timothy looked up at the sky with a bemused laugh, “I’m not even going to ask how you know that.”

“I had a friend that practiced Wicca,” Em told him, “... and I used to get bored and look up random stuff at 3 am when I couldn’t sleep.”

She quickly turned her attention back to the book, “this seems to be summoning... damn! The name is smudged.”

Emily, whose head was resting on the other girl’s shoulder, looked at the other two with a grin, “do we dare?”

“No. Nope.” He said, holding his hands up in the air and marching a few steps away and turning back towards them with a sigh, “I’m not messing with that stuff.”

“It’s the end of the world, Tim,” Em said, “if I haven’t seen a demon yet I doubt I ever will.”

“Maybe we can sacrifice Venable,” Emily whispered to the two, her counterpart laughing while her boyfriend continued to have an existential crisis.

Em seemed to consider the option, “or Coco. Spare us another conversation about influencer culture at the very least... I’d sell my soul for that.”

Smoky laughed and Timothy could only groan, hands covering his face.

“C’mon,” he pleaded, “this is literally textbook horror movie stuff.”

“You don’t have to join if you don’t want to,” Emily reassured before turning back to the other girl, “what do we need?”

Em hummed and read through the list once more, “a candle, a drop of blood, the incantation, and a summoning circle.”

“Really? No sacrificial chicken or anything?”

“I can start the summoning circle if you can get the sowing kit from my room. It’s in my desk.”

Emily nodded and left the room. Em fathered the book and wandered to the tables, putting it down and pulling her sketchbook out from her pockets as Timothy reluctantly followed in her heels.

Not bothering to sit, Em leaned over the table with her pencil in hand. Hair that now curled down to her shoulders fell into her face and she let out a huff before pulling out a ribbon and tying it out of her face.

“Tim,” she asked, not looking up as she carefully replicated the circle, “can you hand me some of those candles over there?”

With a reluctant sigh, the boy shuffled to the corner of the room. Wobbling the candle stand as carefully as he could, he dragged it across the floor and towards the table. It was like watching a child protest bedtime, dragging their feet and taking as long as possible for every task that brought them closer to sleep.

“This is a horrible idea.”

It was Em’s turn to sigh, “these things are like Bloody Mary. It scares us for a moment, but ultimately nothing happens.”

“Did you ever do Bloody Mary?”

She smirked, “The drink or the game?”

Timothy crossed his arms and stared at her, unamused.

“No,” she admitted, finally turning to look him in the eyes, “I was a child and I was scared and I wouldn’t even look in mirrors for a month after I heard the story. My dad finally had enough and forced me to do it... and here I am. Nothing happened.”

Timothy broke eye contact. He wasn’t expecting such an honest response and didn’t quite know how to follow it. How was he supposed to talk about the incident without sounding crazy?

Em watched the slight twitch around Timothy’s mouth. He looked shifty, eyes not focusing on any one thing. She stared at him deadpan and water for him to speak.

Finally, his eyes rested in her. To his surprise, she was still looking at him.

“What?” He asked.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. I was a psych major, remember?”

“I thought you switched to English.”

“That’s beside the point.”

Silence. One beat. Then two.

“Out with it,” she insisted.

“Something weird happened,” he blurted as she finished her sentence, her eyes widening in surprise at his sudden forwardness, “when we first got here.”

“What happened?”

Timothy opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of creaking doors interrupted him. Em... maybe he could trust. He knew logically that he could trust Emily as well, but... god, it sounded crazy.

“It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.”

Em moved to insist, but as she watched Emily come round the corner she also saw Timothy’s tensions leave his body.

“Forget about what?” Emily asked, looking between the two.

Timothy tensed as Em began to speak.

“He was telling me about a time he had a sleepover and tried the Bloody Mary chant.”

Timothy let out the breath he was holding.

“Dad thought it would be a good idea to play with the circuit breaker,” he finished, sending a grateful smile to Em, “my brother jumped so high he nearly got his head stuck in the ceiling.”

“See?” Emily said, squeezing Timothy’s arm, “you have nothing to worry about. Demons don’t exist.”

“What about Venable?” Em asked

Emily smiles and turned away from her lover, “lucky for us, in her case, it’s only metaphorical.”

The two began to set up the ritual, moving the candles according to the instructions — a semi-circle formation on the side of the symbol farthest from her. Em made sure they were melted to the table to prevent a fire. Then they would summon an actual demon by the name of The Cooperative. The symbol stood front and center, wax dripping onto its corners.

Emily and Timothy stood back, arms linked together. His hands dig into the fabric of her sleeve and she offered a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s going to be fine,” she whispered.

Em began the ritual, book in front of her for reference.

“quaesitor existunt veritatis,” she read, then pricked her finger with a needle. The blood welled up and she pressed on the wound until it dropped and stained the paper with crimson, “pondera excitare restitueret.”

Three times she repeated the phrase, drilling blood into one flame, then the next, then the next. Then she let it sit in silence. One second. Nothing. Another second. Nothing. A third—

“Raah!” Emily yelled, grabbing her boyfriend’s shoulder and shaking him.

“Shit!” Timothy cried, crossing himself as he fell backward off the table he had been sitting on, “get away from me!”

Emily and Em erupted into laughter. It took Timothy a few moments to realize he was in no danger and once he looked up at them they burst into laughter again, holding each other. Someone snorted which made the peals of laughter start up again.

He laid his head back on the ground and closed his eyes, arms draping over his forehead as he calmed his racing heart.

“You guys are horrible.” He sighed, a smile forming despite himself.

“All... Emily’s,” Em said between hysterics, “are some form... of chaotic.”

“I’m sorry,” Emily said, doubling over with tears in her eyes as she grabbed onto the other woman’s arm, “you just—“

Her stomach hurt and her lungs burned and she loved every minute of it. She looked up to Em who made the sign of the cross over her chest before crossing her fingers and holding them out in front of her.

“The power of Christ compels you!” She cries out between shaking breaths, doubling over again. Even Timothy began to laugh, shoulders shaking as he tried to picture what he must have looked like.

“If you three are finished with your magic tricks,” a voice came from the door, Mead’s figure looming as they bit their lips and held their breath to keep from giggling, “dinner is in five.”

Shaking her head, the older woman made her way back to the door, grumbling but unable to hide her amusement, “Damn kids.”

Giggling faded I to unrelenting grins that made flushed cheeks even redder. Em and Emily’s eyes were red and puffy from crying. Gathering up the remnants of their decorum, they held out their hands to Timothy, pulling him up to his feet.

 He looked at the two of them up to the ceiling as if he were asking it for guidance.

“Fuck you,” he finally settled, a chuckle escaping him and greatly amusing the girl that leaned against him as they began to walk.

“Careful with that word,” Em warned, walking backward to address the pair, seriousness taunting the fun demeanor she tried to keep up, “Venable would love a reason to cook all of us up for dinner.”

                                     ------------------------------------------ 

No one spoke anymore. There was nothing to speak about. They stared ahead, eyes vacant of life. Their bodies were moving, but their minds had long since given up and resigned themselves to fate.

Coco didn’t even bother with her hair anymore. Gallant had cut it when they hit the fourth-month mark and the humidity had made it curl into the shape of an orb around her head. Gallant himself hadn’t bothered to even change clothes in the past week...or was it two? Em was almost grateful for the pandemic and subsequent quarantine that occurred before they went subterranean. It had taught her the importance of a schedule for her mental health.

Venable was the only one that kept up with appearances. Red hair never had a strand out of place and not a single piece of fuzz could be found on her black dress. She sat straight at the end of the table, back straight as a board and her eyes full of contempt as she looked upon her charges. The ironwoman seemed to be searching for something as she stared at each one of them in turn.

Em did her best to ignore the intertwined hands of the couple beside her. God knows Venable was itching to torture them. Em had faced many people like the red-haired horror. She knew how to ignore something without making it obvious… passive manipulation.

If she was being honest, part of her was somewhat jealous of the happiness her friends had found… but she also knew how dangerous love was, even more so given their circumstances.

Venable’s cane struck the floor like a gavel, heads slowly turning towards her like zombies at the control of a necromancer.

“I have an announcement,” she said, nodding to the half of a cube that sat before them. Em could feel her stomach gurgle, felt the hot feeling of her own stomach acid digesting her organs. “This will be our last breakfast. We’re cutting back to one meal a day.”

Coco’s jaw dropped, but she didn’t have the energy to make a scene, “you can’t be serious.”

“An effective dieting technique,” Evie declared.

“Yeah, so is starving to death!”

Em sighed, running a hand through her hair, pulling it back before letting it fall around her shoulders once more.

“Perhaps we should move meals to breakfast instead of dinner,” Em proposed, “having fuel at the beginning of the day may—”

Venable’s eyes narrowed, head cocking to the side ever slightly.

“Are you questioning my judgment?”

“Yes.”

Damn surviving. She’d rather become everyone’s next meal that deal with the bitch for a single second longer. Starvation had lowered her control and her tolerance for the bullshit Venable had a knack for. She’d rather die tearing apart a tyrant than live bowing her head to one.

“May I remind you that I was assigned to this outpost for a reason.” Venable said, leaning back in her seat and letting the silence sit for a moment before she continued, “and unlike some, I was able to graduate college.”

Em had tried to be kind to the woman in the beginning. She had tried to take initiative by counting resources and assessing tools at their disposal, but as soon as the woman’s cane crossed the threshold her only message to Em was to sit down and shut up.

Gallant scoffed as he looked between the two, “How are we supposed to survive on half a cube?”

Venable pulled her eyes away from Em’s, “it’s not optimal, but also not impossible. Either way, we have no choice. Not if we want to keep eating at all.”

Em, Timothy, and Emily looked to another, trying to look for reassurance but finding none. For once Venable wasn’t wrong.

Gallant scoffed and stared down his fellow residents. How could they stay silent? He wasn’t going to let Venable starve him to death. They should cut the Grey’s meals instead, he reasoned, they paid for their tickets… or at least, Coco’s father had.

“I fucking can’t do this anymore!” She cried.

Sensing the collecting anxiety at the table, Dinah stood and addressed them all, “We don’t know how strong we are until we have to face adversity. This could be an opportunity for all of us to grow.”

“Finish that bumper sticker shit you used to say on your show, and I’m strong enough to shove this fork in your neck!” Gallant yelled, table clattering as he jumped to his feet brandishing his chosen weapon.

Em rose hesitantly, hands up and trying to get Gallant’s attention, “She’s not the one you're mad at.”

The hairdresser didn’t hear him, continuing to rave like a madman and Em fell back in her seat, head bowing and cradled in her hands. She was so tired. She was tired of the tantrums, tired of the hunger. Her ribs were showing through her skin, each and every piece of her spine sticking out as if she were a cactus instead of a person. They were all ghosts. Their bodies had yet to catch up with them.

Before all this she had dreams… to make it big as an artist or an author or anything. Having those dreams crushed made Em wonder if it was better to just give up. Certainly would be more peaceful. If only the grimoire had a spell to bring back her motivation for just living.

Quaesitor existunt veritatis pondera excitare restitueret.

Quaesitor existunt veritatis pondera excitare restitueret.

Quaesitor existunt veritatis pondera excitare restitueret.

“What was that?” someone whispered beside her. Em realized she had been quietly chanting the words from the ritual. Pulling herself from the fog, she removed her head from her hands and sat up in her chair.

“Nothing.”

Before Emily could note her friend’s odd behavior, the sound of porcelain shattering pulled them back to Gallant’s tantrum.

“What are you going to do?” Gallant demanded, bouncing like a wrestler in the ring and glaring daggers at mead, “Shoot us all? Huh? What are you going to do?”

The First moved forward to apprehend the man, towering over him like he was a child about to be thrown in time-out. Venable rose, opening her mouth to speak.

They were quickly deafened by alarms, red lights flashing. Em closed her eyes, suddenly blinded as she rose to her feet and fell back to the wall behind her.

“Perimeter alert,” The Fist said, “There’s been a breach.”

They all looked to Venable, but she was just as alarmed as they were. Em’s eyes immediately went to Emily’s. She was leaning against timothy, eyes turned up towards the ceiling and her hands curling around his arm. Everyone was frozen, suddenly back where this all began — the emergency messages that blared and told them the world was dying and taking them down with it.

“Back to your rooms!” Venable barked, “All of you!”

“If it’s a breach we should prepare a defensive position,” Em cried over the alarms, “If it’s cannibals—”

“This is my outpost!” Venable snarled, stalking towards her until her face was inches from her own, “and I am telling you to stand down and return o your rooms.”

Em could feel someone tugging at her arm, but paid it no mind.

“The noisiest flies are the first to be squashed,” Venable said.

“I fear more for the wasp in a beehive.”

Another tug forced her to turn towards the source. Emily was reaching out to the brunette, one hand on Timothy who was trying to drag her from the dining room.

“It’s not worth it,” She hissed, pulling the girl close, “pick you battles.”

Em snatched back her arm, “I’m tired of waiting for a hill to die on.”

With one last scathing look to Venable, she grabbed a knife from the table and stormed from the room. If she was to live out of spite so be it.

                                        --------------------------------

Em paced back and forth in her room, crossing it in three strides before turning on her heel and starting the whole process all over again. Her hands ran through her hair, tying it up and taking it down, braiding and upbraiding.

Waiting to see what her fate was infuriated her. Waiting infuriated her. If this was an attempted break-in by cannibals or monsters her room was the last place she wanted to be — it cornered her. No, the best defensive position would be —

She groaned and forced herself to sit at her desk, leg bouncing up and down. She wished she was one of the wardens, working alongside The Fist. At least then she’d be doing something. They all acted like the purples were the ruling class, but it was a lie. The Greys outnumbered them and could take over whenever they could. Venable could have them killed in a heartbeat. What they had was only an illusion. When the time came for them to finally wield it their hands would only meet empty air, leaving them to fall to an unsightly demise.

The alarm had stopped blaring, at the very least. Spared her from another migraine.

She jumped as a knock came at her door, raising to her feet and trying to seem as if she wasn’t in the process of losing her sanity. The voice that left her didn’t feel like her own, detached and far too formal.

“Come in.”

A creak filled the room and a Grey appeared, freshly laundered clothes in hand. She bowed her head to Em as she entered before moving to place the garments on her bed.

“Thank you,” Em said reflexively. The Grey turned to her, eyes on the ground.

“Do you want me to do your hair for you, miss?”

“What?” Em asked, hand going to feel the remnants of braids still in her hair. Heat rose to her neck. She must have looked like a raving mad man. “Oh… no. Thanks for asking.”

With another bow, the girl scurried from the room, letting out a gasp as she ran into The Fist right outside the door. A quick and fearful apology left the Grey before she disappeared down the hall, door left wide opened.

The Fist’s hand, which had been held up to knock, fell back to her side. “May I?”

“Please,” Em invited, rounding the bed to place the clothes the Grey had brought in aside for the time being, “it’s been a while since we last talked.”

The ability to look past the color-coded rulebook Venable enforced served her well as long as the woman never found out. Even the Wardens, strong enough to take her down by force, feared the woman… or perhaps trusted Mead so much that they bought into whatever demands Venable spat out. Em just needed them to doubt their orders if the time came when Venable ordered her death.

“How’s the research going?” The Fist asked, nodding to the pile of book balancing precariously on the edge of her desk. Em spared them a glance and sighed, shaking her head.

“You’d know more than those moldy things,” She said, the other woman smiling ever slightly, “is there anything we can do to create a self-sustaining food supply?”

The Fist’s smile faded, lips twisting as she thought, sauntering over to her books and reading the titles, “I know I once made a post about a special facility made to store seeds… problem is, we don’t have means for inter-continental travel.”

“Would the Cooperative?”

“That would be a call for Miss Venable,” she said with a shrug, “Right now our best decision is rationing.”

“I don’t like those odds.”

The Fist tried to offer a reassuring smile, but the truth was they wouldn’t last the rest of the year even with rationing. She had tried to press for explorative missions, but Venable said they couldn’t expend the manpower. They might as well fire all their ammunitions into the walls.

Em couldn’t help the frustrated sigh that left her. Biting her lip, she tried to think of any other option than sitting and waiting for the end. “Do we know anything about the composition of those nutrient bars?”

“I couldn’t find any documentation,” The Fist admitted, “The cooperative should be able to provide if we keep to the plan.”

The brunette scoffed, “Venable’s plan.”

In two strides, The Fist came to stand beside her. If she wanted, she could have snapped her like a twig. Instead, she placed a hand on Em’s shoulder.

“She was put in charge for a reason.”

They were interrupted by a blood-curdling scream that made Em nearly jump into the woman’s arms. The Fist hurried to the door, ducking her head through the doorway and standing there for a moment with her hand on her utility belt.

“Wait here.”

The door slammed shut behind her and Em moved to follow, but became distracted. In the sudden silence, a whispering sound could be heard. She couldn’t quite pinpoint it. It surrounded her like she was in a giant bubble, sometimes wandering to her left or her right like a beast that kept moving when she turned to look at it.

Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on the sound.

“Quaesitor existunt…” she swore she heard, too faint to be certain. It was a breeze in the trees, gone before you knew it was there, “veritatis pondera….” 

No. That was stupid. Demons didn’t exist. She was just being paranoid. Shaking her head, she made her way to her closet. It was a busted pipe, she reasoned as she picked up a candelabra to at leave give her something to see by.

The second the door creaked open, the whispering sound became louder. Then, from the depths of the shadows, a snake dropped down from above. Em jumped back with a gasp, slamming the closet shut and landing on top of her bed. Cautiously, she opened it once more. She stood far enough away to be safe, but close enough to examine. It was black… head rounded instead of pointed…

Em placed the candelabra on her desk and reached for the pile of clothes she had placed aside. Throwing them aside without much care, she founded what she needed in the pile. Working quickly, she twisted the wire of a hangar into as straight of a line as she could manage.

“Hello there,” she cooed, placing the metal in front of the snake and tapping it gently against its mouth. Patiently, she waited until the snake became irritated and bit at the wire. Swooping in, Em grabbed it by the neck the little beasty hissing and thrashing its tail. If it had been a thicker snake, it may have been able to wrangle itself from her hands, but it couldn’t have been bigger than a rat snake.

Once it had calmed some, Em reached for its tail and examined its underbelly. Best thing about an apocalypse was having an obscene about of time to read. There, near the end of the tail, two rows of scales sat.

“You’re nothing but a sweetheart, aren’t you,” She cooed, loosening her grip only slightly. It wasn’t venomous, proving her point as it opened its mouth to hiss once more, wriggling around in an attempt to free itself. She much preferred the company of real snakes to their metaphorical human counterparts.

Keeping a close eye on her new pet, Em walked out the door and right into Miss Miriam Mead. The woman got a good face full of hissing snake and stumbled back a few steps with a gasp. Her tone quickly turned from one of surprise to irritation.

“You too?”

Em smiled at the woman, “can I keep it.”

Mead scoffed and shook her head, but Em could see the fleeting smile on her lips as she procured a bag. “put it in there.”

Mead always reminded Em of a frustrated but amused mother. The smile quickly returned as Em plopped the creature into what looked like a wriggling mass of its brethren.

“First witchcraft, now snakes,” Mead tried to chide, “you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Does this have anything to do with the breach?” Em couldn’t help but ask.

Mead pretended not to hear, occupying herself with closing up the bag of snakes, “Any more?”

“Not sure.”

They both turned to The Fist as she approached, Mead giving a nod towards Em’s room. Dutifully, The Fist went inside. Both of them stood in the doorway and watched as her room was rummaged through. She was lucky she had hidden her banned items under a loose floorboard ages ago.

By the time she was done, two other snakes had been found and the two wardens wordlessly went on their way.

“Venomous ones have pointed heads, fangs, and a single row of scales on their anal plate,” Em called out once they had made it partway down the hall.

She could see Mead chuckle and shake her head. Em’s eyes flickered from the back of Mead to that of The Fist. The latter clearly respected the former immensely.

Locking the door behind her, she made her way to the library. Venable’s pawns could be easily swayed, but her knight would be more of a challenge.

                                        --------------------------------------

Dinner time came around once more and once more Em had been forced to leave her book-filled sanctuary to play nice with all the residents... not that she was particularly the nice sort when with them. She used to be nice. At least, she liked to think she was.

Why was “nice” always just pretending you weren’t angry or annoyed? If one looked into the human mind they’d probably find that not a single one of them was truly “nice.” Everyone got annoyed, everyone got angry, everyone hated someone else. Yet, here they sat around the table once more, acting like they were refined and polite yet still being shocked when, as always, their humanity shines through.

Philosophical pondering was always far more interesting then whatever conversation was going on between this lot. Today, however, was an oddity. The table silent.

At least they weren’t eating cubes tonight... and she knew what exactly was in the soup. She was drawn from her reverie at the smell of it, mouth watering even before the Greys had entered the room.

They quickly straightened their silverware and gracefully draping napkins across their laps. Perhaps the silence was due to the last outcome of Venable’s hospitality.

Dishes clinked and Em smiles at the Grey who placed her meal before her. She eyes the others, waiting before she took a single bite.

Coco also eyed the food, watching the Greys serve them one by one. Her nose crinkled as she eyes what this evening had in store for them. “I have a rule against eating things with no legs or too many legs.”

“Oh, right,” Andre snipped, rolling his eyes. He had gone from denial to anger to depression and now back to anger in the past year. Grief never did like to be linear. “But you’re fine eating something with two legs.”

“For the last time!” Gallant snapped, “we didn’t eat your boyfriend!”

Mead sighed from her left, “Eat it or don’t. No one’s going to force it down you.”

“Adversity makes strange bedfellows,” Dinah notes, sending a pointed look to her son, “and worse dinner companions.”

Andre’s lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes flickered to anywhere that wasn’t his mother.

“It’s food,” Dinah reminded them all, “and we’re starving. We should be grateful for the fruits of the earth.”

Em quelled a groan as she watched Evie preen like a bird, signaling a story was about to begin. The old woman straightened her back and puffed out her chest before leaning against the table.

“Steamed snake soup is actually quite delicious,” she informed them.

“Jesus Christ,” Gallant whispered from the other side of the table, Evie’s hearing far too terrible to know that they were smiling more at her grandson’s distress than her tale.

“It was the centerpiece of a dinner I attended at Kuala Lumpur with Gina Lollobrigida.”

“The only time I’ve seen someone eat a snake,” Em noted, “was on that Bear Grylls survival show.”

Gallant’s head rose from his hands as he snorted out a laugh. Mead even smiled at her left.

“You’re lucky we’re not making you eat grubs.”

On her right, Emily was nearly buzzing in anticipation. As soon as Mead stopped speaking she was quick to address Venable, sitting on her hands as if she were resisting the urge to raise her hand — the only sign an untrained she could find that would display her eagerness.

“So, who’s in your office.”

Venable was off-put by the question, raising her head as if she had dozed off at the end of the table and was slowly rousing, “I beg your pardon?”

“The alarms went off before,” Emily notes, “someone came inside.”

Em turned to her friend in surprise. Someone was here? In the outpost? From outside? Venable allowed them to come inside?

“Who else is here?” Timothy insisted as Venable failed to respond.

Venable looked less than pleased but masked it well as the patience of a mentor trying to evoke the same quality from their student.

“All questions will be answered in due course.”

“And hoarding knowledge makes the flock more controllable,” Em said.

“Eat.” Was Venable’s only response, tapping her cane to signify the end of this particular conversation.

Em reluctantly fell in line with the others, obediently raising the covering of their soup. Hissing erupted from the bowls, snakes slithering across the table just as scared as the residents that jumped backward with screams of terror.

Mead’s eye’s widened as she witnessed the rebirth of the snakes she had personally beheaded, looking to Venable for answers. The woman had none, eyes widening in horror at the sight before her. This was not her orchestration, her design.

Some people ran in terror, Em froze. This time felt differences a fog had encompassed her mind and the world around her became a distant memory. A buzz filled her body and her ears, the screaming of others sounding far, far away. Did they even exist in the first place?

Her head tilted to the side as the black snake from before slithered towards her, curling around her arm. It feared its head upwards. Not to attack, but simply to look at her. She looked into its eyes and felt like she understood the world in its entirety. The weight of the world was not suffocating but consuming. She wanted to be consumed by it. She wanted —

The snake dropped from her arm to the floor and she was back, blinking away the fog as one blinked away sleep. The buzzing sensation left her and her surroundings rushed over her like ice water on a hot summer’s day.

[thedragonslibrary]

I have found your blog so wonderfully helpful, just to let you know! do you have any advice to those wanting to begin sensing/manipulating energy? especially in regards to warding. I want to get started working with spirits and know that's a big deal, I just can't seem to wrap my head around how to set them up, be confident in them and know when they need touching up. regardless, thank you for your time and having such an informative blog! 😄

Hi there!  Thanks so much for the kind words, I’m really glad that my posts could be so helpful for you!  I hope they can continue being so!~

Sensing and manipulating energy is generally along the same lines of psychic development and astral travel, and I found that it’s something that came quite naturally to me when I started my path as a witch.  One of my favorite exercises ever is from the book Wicca for the Solitary Practitioner by Scott Cunningham (this book is actually pretty good for any beginner witch and has lots of good beginner energy work exercises in it, if you can take the sort of woo-woo eclectic Wiccan faith stuff with a grain of salt).  He suggests rubbing your hands together very quickly for a few seconds, then stretching them apart and feeling the tingling, magnetic between them.  It’s a bit of a parlor trick for yourself, and there may be a bit of energy to sense there, but even if it’s only your skin’s reaction to the friction, it’s generally what charged energy feels like.

Once you’ve got the idea of that, I recommend just paying attention to your palms.  If you’re cleansed and grounded properly and have no blockages, your hand chakras (or energy centers, or whatever you wish to call them) are extremely potent, and probably the easiest points of energy on your body to sense.  Generally, energy likes to flow out of our dominant hand and into the nondominant one (so if one of your hands feels less “active” than the other, it’s probably the one energy goes into).  Related to this, another exercise I did as a beginner in energy work was allowing a channel of energy to pass out of one palm and into the other, with your eyes closed or a soft gaze, just feeling the sensation.  Remember, visualization is really important here - I often view the energy in this form like a slinky, or a cylinder of air whirling out of one palm and into the other.

From here, you can form balls of energy between your two palms, allowing the channel to take shape.  Visualize the ball, and use your hands and your focus to change its shape, its color, and its purpose.  This is really good for basic energy work such as charging crystals or other objects, and makes up the foundation of pretty much all of the energy work I personally do.  This is also the first step to making wards!

There are lots of different methods to warding.  Some people take charms and things like casting a circle, etc., extremely seriously.  My personal approach is a bit more abstract, and can be done any time, anywhere.  It’s actually inspired by some freebie spell charm I got from CreepyHollows back when I still bought from them, called “550 layer shield” or something like that, haha.  But I thought, hey, what a good idea!  Most people talk only about the one ward, making sure it’s thick and functional, checking it occasionally for weaknesses.  And yes, like, all of these things are definitely good and true, but it’s easier when it’s a regular process you’re repeating over and over in thin layers.  After all, 20ish thin pancakes are (probably) easier to make than one of those giant, thick Japanese-style pancakes.

Usually, I do this nightly when I’m laying in bed.  If any of my personal spirit companions are around they usually like to help, as it’s a relaxing process for all of us.

Make an energy ball between your hands.  Visualize it expanding outwards, blowing up like a bubble, until it encompasses your whole body.  Imagine it whirling around you like a thin, protective barrier.

Solidify it.  That is, visualize the energy turning into an element.  Water, ice, fire, wind, darkness, light - anything works.  Once you feel the barrier has solidified into one of these elements, let it settle.  Relax, and take a short break.

Rinse and repeat, until you have 550 layers... or whatever!

And honestly, doing this once every night will not only allow you to get past the weird gravitas people put on crafting wards, but will make it feel normal to you, and in itself the exercise will teach you the ins and outs of warding.  You know how they say that if you perform a breast exam on yourself daily, eventually you’ll know what every nook and cranny your breast feels like, and you can more easily tell if something’s off?  It’s the same idea here.  And if a layer doesn’t feel right?  If it feels old and crumbly, or maybe it didn’t settle right in the first place?  Disintegrate it and try again.  After all, you’ve got 550 layers to get to, eventually.  At least one of them has got to do the trick!

Plus, witchcraft and warding is an ongoing, extremely personal process.  So if you start out by using this method and find you eventually want to move onto something more ritualistic, or something that more formally involves what you’ve adopted into your craft, go for it!  

Also, regarding wards and spirit work - especially when you’re starting out, it can be difficult to know how protected you’re supposed to be.  Are you meant to put up a big fat thick shield, blocking out potential spirit friends and cutting yourself off psychically?  Are you meant to keep your defenses weak so you can communicate more easily?  I say take the middle road and make sure you talk to your wards (I know it sounds silly, just trust me), and let them know that you want to allow potential spirits in.  If you run into a bad situation, you can always cut (read as: banish) a toxic personality from your life.

Although I have to say, personally, I’ve never been attacked psychically by a mean spirit.  Only mean people. 🤷 But nobody ever tried anything without a couple of scrapes and bruises!

Again, I hope this was helpful!  Please feel free to let me know if you have more questions!

[scribomaniac]

Something Wicca This Way Comes Ch 6

@andiirivera @blackwidownat2814 @gryphbear @meredeph @jonesfandomfanatic @forget-me-not-s @groovyfoxpeace @superchocovian @therealstartraveller776 @stahlop @kmomof4 @teamhook

The Jones brothers had had one hell of a week. It had all started with Liam scouring the Book of Shadows for a demon or entity that could’ve vanquished the judge at the courthouse. Then, a few days later when Liam discovered some cloaked demon trying to steal the book, he dove even deeper into its contents in an attempt to figure out who or what was after them. Liam had crammed his nose so far into the book it was a wonder it didn’t become part of the binding. Even Tink couldn’t tear him away for longer than five minutes. 

Will and Killian had just begun discussing their concerns when a portal had thrown the three brothers into the past, forcing Liam to focus on the present. Well, sort of. At any rate, they’d helped a man rescue his pregnant wife, delivered the baby, and discovered the baby boy was their ancestor, Stede Bonnet. 

After that surprisingly heartwarming adventure to the past, things in the Jones house had settled down some. Everything seemed to return to normal, or as normal as it ever really got for the Charmed Ones. Will was able to catch up on some of his school work, Liam and Tink had been trying out new recipes for the pub, and Killian had acquired Emma’s number. For a while, it was almost like they were just normal men.

Until Liam decided to ruin it all by being the perfect witch that he was. “Look at this,” he said one morning in the kitchen, as Will ate his breakfast cereal and Killian read the newspaper. Liam dropped the book atop the table, the weight of it causing a loud bang to reverberate through the room and the table to shake. Will’s honey-nut loops splattered out of the bowl and into his lap.

“Thanks,” Will grabbed at some napkins to sop up the mess.

“Look,” Liam said again, pointing at the page he’d opened the book to. “The Firestarter, an extremely rare and coveted magical creature. I’ll bet you guys anything this is what we saw at the courthouse.”

Killian kept reading from where he sat, noticing Liam had left a lot out. Will leaned back in his seat and asked, “What makes you so sure? We’ve seen demons burn others before. Even the judge could throw fireballs. Not powerful ones,” he shrugged, “but still.”

“It’s more of a gut feeling than anything else, but my instincts have never been wrong before.”

“Hold on,” Killian stood up to get a closer look at the text, “this says Firestarters are mortal, that they can be good or evil.” He looked between both brothers, “If it is a Firestarter, maybe they were there to help.”

Will picked his spoon back up, but before taking a bite he asked, “Then why didn’t they stick around and say so?”

“Will has a point, and look at this,” Liam pointed to the bottom of the text, “they’re usually bodyguards of the Source. That’s what caught my attention.” Liam’s eyes were wide and bright, his back perfect straight as he laid out his theory, “What if the Source sent his bodyguard to attack us?  If they’re mortal then they could be anyone.” His eyes flashed towards Killian, then quickly away.

“But then why would they help us?” Killian asked, reaching for the book, “Why not just--” As soon as his fingers touched the ancient page Killian’s breath left his lungs and his eyes fluttered to a close.

A woman slept soundly in her hospital bed, her short dark hair a sharp contrast against her pale white skin. There was a slight sheen of sweat over her brow. She looked tired, but happy. Glowing, almost. 

Killian recognized the woman easily enough, having become very acquainted with her through her husband. It was Mary Margaret.

Beside Mary Margaret, in a small plastic crib, was a new born baby. She was wrapped in what looked to be a hand knitted blanket. There was something embroidered on the side of it, but Killian couldn’t quite make it out. The baby was so small, her fingers no longer than an inch at the most. Her big eyes were open, taking in her new world. 

Then a shadow fell over her. The baby raised her hands and began to fuss, but soon a woman appeared and cooed at the baby to quiet her.

Killian knew at once this woman didn’t belong in the room, and that she wasn’t mortal. Her long black hair was pinned up with feathers and her floor length dress glittered with its many diamonds. She reached for the baby, a wicked smile pulling at her lips. The demon woman looked over to the still sleeping Mary Margaret and said, "Fair's fair."

Then she and the baby disappeared.

With a gasp and a shudder, Killian was brought back to the present. 

"Killian?" Liam asked, placing a steadying hand on his younger brother's shoulder.

"I think," Killian paused and looked down at the page before him, "I think I just saw a demon kidnap Nolan's daughter."

Liam frowned, "What does that have to do with the Firestarter?"

Shaking his head, Killian said, "No bloody idea."

After that Will threw his empty bowl into the sink and headed up to his room to get dressed while Killian and Liam perused the book. They hoped to identify the demon that stole the Nolan baby, but the Book of Shadows was hardly considered a light read, and not every description came with an illustration. 

Feeling a kink developing in his neck, Killian sighed and called it, "I need a break."

Liam didn't move, but he did release a low hum of acknowledgement. Watching him for a second longer, Killian wished he had half his drive and perseverance.

"I'll go check the mail." The newspaper on their street was always delivered at the same time every morning, but the mail time always fluctuated. Sometimes their mailman, Verne, started on their street and they received it about the same time as the paper, but sometimes he'd start on the other side of his route or a few streets in, depending on his load or where he'd be going after his shift. 

Killian opened the front door and found a long white box on their stoop. There was no other mail, just the box. He picked it up and found a small note taped to it.

“Will, mate,” Killian called from the foyer, looking down at the box in his hands. “You’ve got a package. Flowers I think.”

“Flowers?” Will repeated as he came down the stairs fully dressed. “From who?”

Killian shrugged and placed the box on a table, “Maybe that lad you went on a date with last weekend. Or were supposed to at least.” Killian winced as he remembered how Will had had to call the date off due to some minor demon activity.

“Peter? That’s weird,” Will took off the box’s lid, “we’re gonna meet up tonight so maybe--ugh! What the hell?”

Covering his nose at the foul stench, Killian looked down at the withering petals and wriggling mealworms. Truly it was more shocking than anything. Who would do this? Throwing the lid back on, Killian grabbed the box and bee-lined it straight for the front door. “What the bloody hell,” he muttered as he threw the contents into the bushes. 

Looking back at his younger brother, he asked, “You piss someone off lately?”

Eyes as wide as saucers, Will shook his head, “Not like that! You sure it was from Peter?”

“It didn’t say, maybe it was a prank?”

Will’s brows rose, “You think?”

Heading towards the bathroom to wash his hands--he didn’t touch anything, but his skin suddenly felt like something was crawling over him--he asked over his shoulder, “You in a prank war with anyone?”

“What’s all this then?” Liam asked, peeking his head out from the kitchen. 

“Will received a box of bugs,” Killian said loudly over the running water. “Don’t worry, they didn’t get on anything.”

“A box of bugs?” Liam frowned, “Do you think it could’ve been a demon?”

Will snorted, “What demon sends flowers?”

“I don’t know, I’ll check the book.” And off he went, back the way he came to bury his nose in the old familiar pages.

After drying his hands, Killian shook his head and sighed, “So much for that. He’s worse than before.”

“You think we should talk to him about it? Or Tink?”

“You make it sound like he needs an intervention.” Will lowered his gaze and raised a brow. Killian pursed his lips, “Hey, it’s Liam. He knows what he’s doing.”

“Right,” Will said slowly. “I’m going to call Peter.”

“I’ll be at the pub!” Killian said before heading out the door. The pub wouldn’t be open to the public for a few more hours at least, but at least there he could be productive--and hopefully remain bug free. 

There were only two other workers there, August, the assistant manager, and Walter, the dozy man who acted as a daytime security guard. “Walter,” he greeted, patting the older man on the shoulder and jerking him awake.

Walter’s eyes bulged and his surprised gasp turned into a stuttered snort, “Ah, wha--what? Oh, hi Killian.”

“You’re here early,” August said by way of greeting. He jerked his chin towards the pub’s entrance behind Killian, “You alone?”

“Aye,” Killian took a seat at the bar and grabbed a cleaning rag and a glass. “Liam’s doing some research back at the house and Will has class.”

August nodded and looked back down at his book, “Is Liam gonna come by soon? I have some questions,” he tapped his pencil against the book’s pages, “about last month’s numbers.”

Grabbing another glass, Killian said, “Not sure. He’s been a bit, ah--” he froze and realized he’d been about to say distracted. “Focused lately.”

“Right, right.” August sighed and pushed the book away. He grabbed his own rag and began to clean alongside Killian.

“How’s that book of yours coming?” Killian asked after several moments of silence. Well, save for Walter’s snores, which started up again not long after Killian had taken his seat. “It’s a mystery, right?”

“Oh yeah,” August huffed out a laugh, “I hit a bit of writer’s block.”

“Ah, sorry mate.”

August shrugged, “Don’t worry about it. Whenever something like this happens I have a foolproof plan to fix it.”

Grinning, Killian focused on a particularly difficult smudge, “Aye? And what’s that?”

Placing his clean glass to the side, August looked Killian straight in the eye and answered, “I get a change of perspective.”

They continued on like that until it was time for the pub to open. Walter’s relief, a tall woman named Ruby, came and took over checking ID’s and making sure drunks got into cabs and not their own cars. Liam did eventually show up to check on things, disappearing to the back room with August almost immediately. The assistant manager left soon after, and Killian took over his shift as bartender. Tink made an appearance as well, arriving later on in the evening. 

For a small period of time, everything seemed normal. That should have tipped Killian off that something was wrong.

Not long after Ashley, a sweet, quiet girl with short blond hair, arrived and started serving patrons, Killian received a call. “Hey Will.”

“Hey Killian,” Will’s voice sounded strange, almost shakey.

“You alright, mate?”

“Yeah! Or, ah, no. Well,” Killian’s brows furrowed. The pub with its crowds had become too loud for a phone conversation, so he moved to the back office. “I just--can you and Liam come home? I think we were robbed.”

“What?” Killian’s brows shot up. Of all the things he’d expected his brother to say, it wasn’t that.

“Well no, I know we were robbed. Just,” Will sighed, “can you bring Liam home, please?”

Not needing to hear more, Killian grabbed Tink and Liam and after a rushed explanation, told Tink to orb them home.

The front door was open when they arrived. Tink and Liam rushed in to find Will and David talking in the living room. “Oh, Will!” Tink’s hands cupped Liam’s face, “You’re shaking. Here,” she pulled the blanket on the back of the couch over his shoulder. “I’ll go make you some hot coco. Don’t move.”

Killian picked up a piece of broken mirror and sighed. Looking around he took stock of their home; tables were overturned, the sofa’s stuffing had been ripped out, and Will’s plants laid scattered everywhere. Killian could only imagine what destruction awaited him in the rest of the house. 

Tink returned and handed Will a mug, “Blow on it first.” She looked at Liam and said, “I’m going to check in with the Elders, see if they know anything.”

“Don’t take too long,” Liam said, kissing her on the cheek. Tink nodded before disappearing in a blur of white light.

“Did you notice anything about the intruder?” David asked Will, “Anything to help identify him?”

Will shook his head, “No, it was dark--all the lights were out.”

“Well there’s no sign of forced entry--”

“There wouldn’t be if it was a demon, would there?” Liam leaned against the fireplace. His jaw was so tight Killian could practically hear the grinding of his teeth. 

Killian kicked away a piece of a vase, “Demons don’t usually vandalize.”

Liam opened his mouth to retort, no doubt about to list off several demons who did, indeed, vandalize homes, but David quickly asked, “Do you notice anything missing? Clothes, jewelry, household items?”

“No,” Killian shook his head, “but it’s a bit hard to tell at the moment.”

“All right, well we were able to lift some fingerprints and we’ll start running them tomorrow morning. What I want you guys to do is make up a list of enemies who may have a reason to do this.”

“Already done,” Liam pulled out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and handed it to the detective. 

Unfolding the list, David released a heavy sigh as he read its contents, “Grimlocks, Abraxas, Guardians--are there any humans on the list?”

Shrugging, Liam simply said, “Humans aren’t our problem, mate.”

“Demons don’t leave fingertips,” Will pointed out before taking a sip of his coco, steadfastly ignoring Liam’s glare.  

“Look,” Killian quickly intercepted what he felt was an argument in the making. “We’ll make two lists. One for us and one for Nolan. That way all sides are covered.”

“I’m telling you this is a waste of time. It’s always a demon.” Liam ran a hand down his face, “Every second we waste making up a list is another that gives the demon a chance to attack.”

Killian sighed. Liam was usually right, and his argument here was sound, but his stubbornness with the list and his fixation on demons was growing to be a bit much. Especially for Will. The youngest Jones brother didn’t know the eldest like Killian did. They’d been together through thick and thin, and whatever Liam did, he did it for them. He was protective by nature, but sometimes that protectiveness could come off as smothering. 

“You’re not always right, you know,” Will snapped, glaring into his mug. “Think about the flowers I got this morning. What demons does that?.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” David looked between Liam and Will, his hands up as if to keep them apart even though neither had moved an inch. “What’s this about flowers?”

“Someone sent me some dead flowers with bugs on them,” Will took another sip of his coco. “Killian found them on the doorstep with my name on them.”

“Aye,” Killian added, “there was no signature on it.”

“Will,” Liam sighed, “you’re one of the nicest kids out there. Who would want to hurt you? The flowers were just a prank.”

David ignored Liam’s words and continued on with his questions, “Do you have any idea who might have sent them? Anyone you might have slighted lately?”

Shrugging, Will pulled his blanket closer around him, “No. Not that badly anyway.”

“Even the slightest thing can set these types of people off. Believe me.” David rubbed at the crease between his brows, “Stalkers don’t need much.”

“What about Peter?” Killian asked, looking at his younger brother with his head tilted. “Didn’t you stand him up the other night?”

Will fidgeted, “Yeah, but,” he paused, thinking of the right words to use, “Peter’s not that type of person.”

“You never know,” David said solemnly. “Now, let’s talk about security. You guys have none.”

Liam rolled his eyes and pushed off from the mantle, “We don’t need security. We’re witches.”

Killian watched as his brother headed towards the kitchen. It was a wonder that Liam seemed more frustrated with the detective and his questions than the fact that their house had been broken into. He supposed that’s why he was so much better at this witch business than himself, Liam was never frazzled by the supernatural.

“Witches should still have alarm systems!” David called after him, his brows furrowed. Shaking his head, he said, “You guys should at least lock the door.”

“I lock the door,” Will said, almost pitifully as he shrank even further into his blanket.

Killian winced, “I sometimes do.” Honestly, it was a miracle he remembered to close it sometimes. 

“And I lock the attic door,” Liam had returned with a glass of water in his hand. Three pairs of eyes turned to look at him curiously. “What?” He asked, “that’s where we keep the Book of Shadows. And after that demon almost got its hand on it I thought we should add the extra layer of protection.”

“You’ll lock a door for a book’s safety,” David started, his voice dry and tired, “but not your own?”

“We can handle ourselves.”

“Right,” David shook his head and took a few steps towards the door, “well I’ll keep you updated on what we find.”

Under his breath, so low only Killian could hear, Liam muttered, “Which will be nothing.”

David opened the door to leave, and found his partner on the other side. Emma took a step back, surprised by the sudden movement but recovered quickly, standing aside to let him pass. 

“Emma!” Killian’s brows rose up high at her appearance. Behind him, Liam released a low hum as he sipped his water before walking back into the kitchen. “What are you doing here? Come in, come in.” He waved her in, quickly meeting her halfway in the foyer. 

“I heard about the break in,” Emma’s frown was deeper than usual. She stepped further into the home as she took in the damage and her eyes widened when she noticed Will on the couch. Turning her focus back onto Killian she added, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Killian nodded dumbly, completely awestruck that Emma was standing before him. “Aye, we’re all alright.”

“Is Will--”

“He’s fine too,” Killian quickly assured her, wincing as he also took in his younger brother’s pale face. He must’ve been more tired than Killian first thought. “I should probably help him up to bed though, but,” he paused, raising a brow at her, his lips curling into a grin “were you worried about me, Swan?

“Maybe,” Emma allowed herself a small step forward, then her eyes flashed over his shoulder and she raised her chin. “I should go though.” She took a big step back and looked down at her feet, her blond hair falling over her shoulders. “You guys need your rest.” Glancing up at him through her lashes she asked, “Call me tomorrow?”

Killian’s heart stuttered in his chest and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. “Of course,” he finally said, his lips stretching into a wide smile as he showed her out. “Good night, Swan.”

Emma smiled over her shoulder, “Good night, Killian.”

-----

Haha! This one’s actually edited before posting! I hope everyone enjoyed. A few notes...This was originally supposed to be longer but I was losing focus so I cut the chapter in half. I know exactly how I want the next chapter to go so I plan on starting it tomorrow. Then hopefully I can post another chapter mid week, and the next over the weekend. It’s ambitious so we’ll see how it turns out.

The next chapter will be more Emma centric and we’ll be seeing some Rumpel/Regina/Bae in it too.

Walter is Sleepy for those who may not know, and I just love the idea of Red being a bad ass bouncer. 

Stede Bonnet AKA the gentleman pirate was alive roughly around the same time as Melinda Warren and I just thought it’d be a fun little detail to throw in. 

I know Killian’s two premonitions so far have been of the past (they’re just so easy) but I’m sure I’ll soon be writing futuristic ones for him soon enough.