#and none of my friends did either what witchery is this

[a-fiery-fox]

This girl has not survived the great war (she didn't get taylor swift tickets)

[wordsablaze]

10~ the chance to see the light

tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it’s the last thing he does…

A/N: 2021 is lowkey already a mess so here some good vibes with these two dorks being almost the exact opposite !!

@random-nerd-3 @betaray-jones @w-s-kibela @cloudspeck @in-love-with-writing002 @screaming-flapjacks @havenoffandoms @lasaga666 @mayastormborn 

previous chapter

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The market is loud.

So incredibly loud.

Eskel has rarely ever come across a market so loud and even if he has, he’s never stayed longer than just passing by for necessities or just travelling through to leave town. Crowded places can never exactly be a witcher’s best friend due to all the mutations so no matter what, Eskel always feels a little on edge in markets.

Jaskier on the other hand seems to be in his element from the moment they enter the crowds. He greets practically every merchant they see even though he buys nothing from them, which baffles Eskel, who’s used to often buying things he doesn’t remotely need from various people because he feels bad for wasting their time, but it seems to be the norm for Jaskier - he figures it’s a bard thing. And a pretty endearing bard thing at that.

Well, it’s endearing until Eskel bumps into someone, swivels on the spot as they both apologise to one another, and then turns back to find Jaskier gone.

“Jaskier?” he asks, but said bard is nowhere to be seen.

Eskel groans, his mind unhelpfully reminding him of the siren incident, and cranes his neck to look over the people around him to try and spot either Jaskier’s lute or his bright doublet. When he can find neither, he sighs and starts moving, mumbling apologies every time he has to literally push past the sheer number of people that he didn’t even think could fit in this town and hope none of them think badly of him for it.

He’s just beginning to think Jaskier had used the market as an excuse to be rid of him when someone crashes into him but instead of immediately jumping back, latches onto his arm with a surprising amount of strength.

“Eskel, there you are!” Jaskier grins, steadying himself but still not letting go. “I am so sorry for disappearing, I didn’t know you’d stopped walking.”

Eskel exhales slowly, nodding. “That’s okay. There’s just, uh, a lot of people here.”

Jaskier’s expression softens into sympathy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would be so crowded. You can never really tell which towns go for the morning rush until you’re part of it, unfortunately. Do you want to leave?”

Eskel blinks at being given the choice. He’d figured that, the same way he’d taken responsibility whilst hunting a siren, Jaskier would decide their plans whilst hunting a mirror. “No, that’s fine, just… let me know where you’re going next time?”

He means for it to be a joke but Jaskier frowns, biting his lip as he slowly lets go of Eskel’s arm. The small distance that creates between them doesn’t last long because Jaskier hesitantly slips his hand into Eskel’s, not quite gripping it properly but carefully holding his fingers in place as if waiting for approval.

As much as Eskel wants to provide said approval, he hesitates. “Are you sure? That’d send a pretty clear message that we’re… that you’re friends with a… with me.”

Jaskier smiles softly, somewhat sadly. “We are friends, darling.”

“But this is different and-”

“I know,” Jaskier interrupts, “but I can’t promise I won’t get distracted again and I don’t want to get overwhelmed with your witchery senses and all.”

Oh, so Jaskier is just being considerate. Eskel chides himself for thinking anything on the contrary and nods, returning Jaskier’s smile as best as he can because he’s not about to refuse him when he’s just trying to help. “That’s very kind of you.”

Another frown flickers across Jaskier’s face but he doesn’t explain it, only nods and gently squeezes Eskel’s hand as he firmly interlocks their fingers, so Eskel doesn’t question it, letting himself be guided to the different stalls.

If later asked, he wouldn’t be able to recall what anyone was selling at any of the stalls. What he would be able to recall is the way their hands may as well have been made for being held, the way he could feel a firm tug all the way up to his shoulder every time Jaskier turned to admire something or the other, the way Jaskier turned around with a look of concern if Eskel didn’t move fast enough when being pulled along.

He genuinely has no idea how much time passes before Jaskier comes to a complete stop with a rather dramatic gasp. “That one! Oh, Eskel, isn’t it lovely?” Jaskier asks, gesturing to a small, circular mirror.

The merchant seems a little sceptical to hand it over at first, presumably not a huge fan of witchers, but Eskel watches as his gaze travels to their connected hands before his doubt morphs into amusement. When he looks up again, he’s smiling and offers the object up with no hesitation, which is a little confusing but it’s not like Eskel is going to question it.

“Well, what do you think?” Jaskier asks as Eskel takes the mirror, squeezing his hand in what could be excitement or support but is appreciated either way.

It’s a pretty simple design, with one side smoothed down perfectly to create a reflective surface and the other side curved outwards with a flower carved into it. He shrugs. “It’s really nice.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “Melitele save us from witchers and their limited reviews. It’s a rose, Eskel. It’s not just really nice, it’s perfect!”

Well, if Jaskier is so determined to continue comparing him to roses, he’s not going to complain regardless of how much he disagrees. And yes, upon further inspection the carving is an impressively delicate rose, so he smiles. “It’s really perfect?” he offers.

Both Jaskier and the merchant laugh, and Eskel is so distracted that he forgets to pay attention to how much Jaskier is spending on the mirror, on him. He’s drawn out of his thoughts when Jaskier tugs on his hand again, grinning.

“You’ll be happy to know we can leave now!” he announces. Although Eskel is more than relieved to finally get out of the sensory mess otherwise known as a market, he selfishly doesn’t want to let go of Jaskier’s hand yet.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Eskel asks.

Jaskier shakes his head. “Not really, no. I replaced my lute strings not long ago and we just ate and I don’t really have much coin left anyway because the patrons of this town aren’t particularly generous so there’s nothing keeping us.”

With a sigh, realising there’s no excuse for them to stay attached any longer, Eskel releases his hold on Jaskier’s hand and starts walking back the way they came. He makes it about three steps before the scent of honey he’s so quickly become comforted by turns sour. Though when he turns to see what’s happened, Jaskier is smiling as if there’s nothing wrong.

“You forgot your mirror, Eskel,” Jaskier tells him with a nervous chuckle, holding out said object.

He takes it from him but that can’t have been the matter because Jaskier still smells the way Lambert does when Vesemir withholds his brewing privileges. Before he can ask, Jaskier brushes past him and speeds up so quickly that Eskel almost loses sight of him again before he manages to catch up.

“Jaskier? What is it, did something happen?” he asks eventually, by the time they’re nearer the inn and there are less people around.

Jaskier shakes his head but doesn’t stop walking. Eskel glances between him and the mirror, which he then pockets so he doesn’t break it, before sighing, confused. “Do you need more coin?”

That seems to have been the wrong way to go about fixing things because Jaskier turns on his heel and folds his arms, all but glowering at him. “I do not and will never need your pity coin, I am perfectly capable of covering my own expenses, thank you very much!”

Eskel wants to disagree, considering that Jaskier is currently wearing his spare clothes, but he also has the feeling that Jaskier wouldn’t take too kindly to him pointing that out. Instead, he just shrugs. “I’m sorry, bardling, I didn’t mean to imply-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Jaskier interrupts once more, but this time he just sounds tired, his previous determination long-gone. “Just tell me honestly, was it really that bad?”

“What?” Eskel asks.

Jaskier gestures vaguely to nothing in particular and yet somehow looks surprised when Eskel doesn’t seem to catch on. He sighs quietly. “You know, holding hands?”

Wait, what? Oh gods, Eskel seems to have completely missed something here. And apparently Jaskier has too, because he seems equally as lost when he sees that Eskel has no idea what he means, his glum transforming into uncertainty.

“How about we go inside first?” Eskel suggests, which he feels is the most logical course of action since the inn is within sight.

The second they’re back in their room, having deposited their respective lute and swords on the floor, Jaskier whirls and gives Eskel a pointed look. “You let go of my hand. I think it’s better you explain why instead of me standing here and guessing.”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Eskel says honestly, “you said you were helping me in the market and I didn’t want to take advantage of that kindness once we left.”

Jaskier scowls, but it’s clearly not directed at him because the next thing he does is launch himself forwards and throw his arms around Eskel, who definitely doesn’t stumble in a not entirely unpleasant shock, no sir.

“All due respect, darling, but you witchers can be so stupidly obtuse,” Jaskier mumbles into his shoulder and Eskel laughs, letting himself relax into the embrace and waiting patiently until Jaskier eventually pulls back, thankfully free of any sourness.

“Just to clarify then: this is permission to uhm, hold your hand even when we’re not in markets?” Eskel asks, swallowing down the awkwardness he can sense burning inside him even as the words leave his mouth.

Jaskier grins. “Yes, even the mightiest of witchers are allowed to engage in the more ordinary act of hand-holding.”

Although he’s sure his doesn’t have quite the same charm to it, a matching grin blooms on Eskel’s face. “You know, I thought it was rather extraordinary, actually.”

Just as Eskel had predicted, there’s about three seconds of confusion before Jaskier blushes and his grin once again widens in a way that seems impossible and highly dangerous. He’d say it must be another bard thing but he’s beginning to think it’s just a Jaskier thing and he’s almost afraid of how many Jaskier things he’s been keeping track of lately.

“You’re quite the flirt for someone so obtuse,” Jaskier informs him, raising an eyebrow.

Eskel shrugs. “Must be the company I’m keeping.”

“Hey!” Jaskier protests, but the accompanying giggle just makes it sound adorable. As soon as he thinks that, though, Jaskier smirks at him. “So you’re keeping me?”

Ah, not again. He truly has no idea how he’s meant to react to what he’s almost certain is flirting and unfortunately, that fact only seems to amuse Jaskier instead of discouraging him. Not that Eskel has any idea why anyone, especially this bard, would want to flirt with him in the first place.

“You’ve got your thinky-face on again,” Jaskier accuses him quietly, poking his chest. “Do you really have to think so hard on the concept of keeping me?”

Eskel finds himself shaking his head just a little too quickly. “No, no. I would be honoured to continue keeping your company, I just- I don’t know how to do this.”

Jaskier tilts his head to the right, raising an eyebrow. “With ‘this’ being what, exactly?”

That’s exactly what he wants to ask.

“This… this flirting thing,” he settles on.

“I wasn’t really considering it to be a thing so much as just the flirting,” Jaskier says, so quietly that it’s barely even a whisper.

Eskel can literally feel the way his eyes widen. He can also literally smell the way Jaskier begins to doubt himself so, without thinking, he reaches out and grabs the bard’s wrist, instantly regretting that choice when Jaskier flinches.

“I’m sorry,” he says, letting go immediately, “just, uh, just don’t leave yet. Please.”

With a slow exhale, Jaskier nods. “Yet?”

“You can leave whenever you wish,” Eskel clarifies, relieved when all Jaskier does is smile rather than take him up on that offer.

To his credit, Jaskier barely even moves as Eskel tries to compose himself. He rubs his fingertips together before just wrapping his arms around himself and shifts from one foot to the other but he doesn’t leave, giving Eskel as much time as he needs to choose an answer that doesn’t come across as something else that can be taken in the wrong way.

In the end, he just sighs. “I don’t- I mean, I haven’t been flirted at for longer than I can exactly remember. You’ll have to forgive me for not knowing the difference between the typical bardic reputation and the- and anything more… serious.”

“Bards can’t be serious?” Jaskier jokes, but it seems like an automatic response rather than his genuine response if the frown on his face is anything to go by.

“I wouldn’t know,” Eskel replies, very much wishing that he did.

Jaskier nods, reaching out for and taking both of Eskel’s hands. “I can assure you that despite also holding the uhm, the typical bardic reputation, I was being entirely serious about flirting with you.”

Eskel was a little afraid of that, to be honest.

“But if you don’t- that is, if it were to make you uncomfortable, I would be happy to uh, take that problem off your hands and stick to less serious flirting,” Jaskier adds, “or no flirting at all, even. That one may be considerably more difficult since flirting essentially becomes second nature in my trade but I can certainly attempt such an endeavour if it would ensure that we continue to travel together. And I’m aware you’ve already told me you’re happy with that arrangement but it only feels right to make sure in case-”

“You can stay sure,” Eskel cuts in before Jaskier rambles himself into a mess, “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“But?” Jaskier asks, raising an eyebrow.

Amazed at how the bard somehow knows he needs to continue, Eskel smiles a little. “But I don’t know how to flirt and be serious about it.”

And he genuinely doesn’t. Obviously. He’s a witcher, he’s more than lucky if anyone at a brothel wants to keep their eyes on him, never mind maintain a conversation, and even then, that’s only if he goes to one in the first place. It’s not like he’s never been flirted at before, but it’s a little hard to take any of it seriously when it’s usually accompanied by undertones of fear or curiosity or mocking jest.

“It’s not like I’m an expert,” Jaskier scoffs and immediately, inexplicably, some of the tension in Eskel’s body melts away.

“What about all those romantic ballads of yours?” Eskel asks, frowning.

Jaskier shrugs, his thumbs drawing tiny soothing circles on Eskel’s hands. “Just because I sing about relationships doesn’t mean I’m in one, darling.”

Eskel is honestly a little baffled by how that can be possible. He can’t imagine being blessed with someone like Jaskier and then deciding not to try and keep him around - which reminds him to violently berate his brother for doing so - but frankly, he’s pretty glad nobody else has because if they had, he’d never have been given the chance himself.

“You look nice in my clothes,” Eskel blurts and, going by the redness that bridges over his nose all the way to his ears, Jaskier mercifully seems to understand what he’s trying to convey.

“I hope you’re aware you’re not getting them back now,” Jaskier teases.

Eskel shrugs. “A loss I’m willing to endure.”

Jaskier laughs brightly, throwing his head back with his hair arching messily in the air above him, his hands tightly clutching onto Eskel’s to stay balanced, and Eskel doesn’t need to be an expert on relationships to know that he’d happily lose any of his belongings if it meant being able to keep Jaskier in his life.

Well, maybe not his mirror.

-

...in retrospect, i may have made them a tad ooc by projecting too much but hey, it be like that sometimes :)

-

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

[supimjustwriting]

As the Lion King Wishes

Mash Kyrielight x Witch Reader

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Character Death

Summary: Knight Mash has been tasked to take the head of certain witch whom resides in the mountains. For their kind taint the sacred land known as Camelot.

Not only are they a pest that the Lion’s King’s lance cannot reach. Y/N dares tempt one of her most loyal and pure knights. Befriending them and slowly falling in love with them. Knowing that their love is forbidden. Y/N erases any memories Mash held for them and sends them back, knowing the next time they meet will be their last. Once the knight entered their home. They welcomed their old lover with open arms.

Inspired/Based from the song  Ga1ahad and Scientific Witchery ~ Mili You can listen to the song here

Author’s Note: I’m really proud at how this flower bloomed! I know it’s not a request but I’d highly appreciate it if you read it all the same. I hope you enjoy reading your way through my garden.

Y/n sighed dreamily, gently brushing the lavender hair from the rotting knight’s face. A smile creeping upon their lips at the memory of violet eyes gazing back at them lovingly. “We’ll meet again soon love. Though it will be the first and last encounter you’ll have with me,” Y/N gazed at the corpse, mentally debating whether they should save or leave their lover and future killer to the elements. ‘No, they deserve a longer life. Even if it’s without me,’ they thought to themselves before chanting a certain spell. The witch sent the unconscious knight back, bound tightly to their stead. “Take her to the castle gates. By the time you get there all her wounds shall be healed. Now go,” they ordered the horse, watching their lover fade into the mountain’s mist.

~

“Mash. Sir Mash, can you hear me?” the harsh tone of her king, startled her back into reality. Violet eyes look up only to meet with an icy blue.

“Deepest apologies, my king. I seem to have gotten lost in my thoughts. What can I do for you?”

A low hum left the blonde as they inspected the Knight before them. Leaning back against their throne, Artoria let out a rare sigh. Their ghostly stare burying themselves into the figure kneeled before them.

“Do you remember your oath?”

“My heart, soul, and body are bound to the sacred lance. Men, women, children. The holy lance is judgment is absolute. No mercy shall be shown to those unworthy,” recited the young knight, a lump growing in their throat. She has lived by that statement the day she was born in Camelot. Yet for some reason they felt wrong.

“You remember who’s been plaguing our lands recently, don’t you?” The firm voice of her king once again snapped her from her thoughts.

Witches. Mash thought, giving Artoria an affirmative nod. “Magic users called witches. They’ve been sheltering those who were supposed to face judgment,” before she could stop herself the words slipped from her lips. “Did I do something wrong?”

The Lion King simply shook their head, hand on resting on their chin. “Not at all but I do have a mission for you. As a knight of Camelot I order you to bring me the head of Y/N.”

With clouded eyes, Mash gave her king a deep bow. Trying her best to ignore the guilt, growing within her gut. “Yes, your majesty.”

~

A sense of familiarity filled the young knight as they rode closer to the witch’s lair. The scent of the air, the flower fields. Everything felt so welcoming like an old friend or a long forgotten toy found in the attic. She couldn’t stop the smile blooming on her features as the feeling of home washed over her.

Mash stiffened her posture, stopping her horse when a quiet hum tickled her ears.

The magical potion of reanimation Bittersweet cranberry flavoured euphoria Rise from bed my darling

Dismounting her horse. Mash followed the nostalgic tune, hand hovering over the hilt of her sword. To her surprise her violet eyes landed upon a witch around her age. No, that’s simply the form they chose. She reminded herself, shaking off any lingering thoughts.

Yet, the witch seemed so normal. They were seated on a checkered picnic blanket. A rather large smile plastered on their face as they stuffed themselves with sandwiches. Neatly packed in a basket that could easily feed a small family. The witch didn’t have a care in the world until their eyes landed upon her.

Ready for a fight. Mash unsheathed her sword only to be greeted with laughter and a wave.

“Welcome Mash! I see you finally made it. Would you care to join me?” the witch chirped, patting the empty spot beside them. Their tone is reminiscent of two lovers finding each other again.

Dumbfounded. The knight hesitantly put her sword away, walking over to the figure. “Are you not going to fight?” Mash asked, head cocked like a confused puppy.

“Heavens no! Fighting simply leads to more fighting but if you truly want a battle. How about a battle of stomachs? Simply close your eyes and I’ll charm one of these sandwiches, so that one bite will kill either of us,” the witch stated simply, presenting their basket of goods. “Of course I’ll close my eyes as well. I can’t cheat at my own game. It’ll go against how I was raised.”

Mash did as she was told, even holding her hands over her face so she couldn’t cheat. For some reason a sense of déjà vu washed over her. ‘Why were they being so nice?’ she thought to herself before yelping in surprise at the sudden contact.

“Still as jumpy as ever I see. Shall we begin?” The witch gave Mash’s hands a reassuring squeeze. If the knight looked closely enough. She could’ve sworn she saw tears threatening to fall from their companion’s eyes.

So, it began. Each player took a sandwich and ate. Y/N was talkative the whole time. Telling Mash tales of an old friend of theirs that they used to adventure with. The witch told story after story before the pair knew it. The basket was empty.

“Looks like we both win! Or lose depending on how you look at it,” cheered the witch, wrapping an arm around her. “It’s been so long since I’ve had company like this. Thank you for everything!”

Mash shook the witch’s arm off her, shooting them a glare. This isn’t right! She shouldn’t be having fun. Her mission is to deliver the head of this pest to her king. Bribery shouldn’t work on her.

“What do you gain from this? Why are you acting as if we’re old friends?” 

~

Mash was well known for being a model knight. Yet why can’t she bring herself to draw her blade here. Why can’t she draw her blade at them? The simple thought alone was enough to make her choke, making something as simple as breathing a chore.

The young knight gripped her sword tightly, heavy pants escaping her lips. She needed to end this. She had to-

A fragile pair of arms wrapped themselves around Mash’s trembling form. “It’s okay Mash. You can  kill me,” their soft voice tickled her ears, only bringing more pain and confusion.

~

Like waves crashing along the beach. A flood of memories overwhelmed the young knight. Laughter, sobbing, flower crowns, dinners together, kisses shared.

Tears welled up in her violet eyes as she shakily drew her sword, pointing it at the witch.

“Enchanter! Trickster! None of this is real. None of that is real! It’s just- It’s just,”

Smiling, the witch pulled Mash into a chaste kiss, arms draped loosely around her shoulders. A whine escaped her target's lips followed quickly by the sickening scent of iron.

Mash held her sword with one hand, using her free arm to cradle the now limp body before her. Giving Y/N one final deep kiss. She then raises her sword and swings.

[theessaflett]

Tiffany Aching: The Perfect Introduction to Witchery

Once, every so often, but not so very often that it stops being exciting, a reader comes across a book that says exactly what they need to hear in that very moment. 

It’s a feeling of surprised recognition; of being seen. Someone out there, either the writer or the characters they have created, know what it is like to be you, right down to the fabric of your soul. Sometimes that feeling can be disquieting ��� the only  character I’ve ever read with exactly the feelings of vague existential dread I know all too well did not get a happy ending, which felt like a rather alarming prophesy -  and sometimes it can be a blissful relief. That someone, somewhere, gets it. 

In my 19 years or so of being an avid bookworm this has only happened to me a handful of times, but every time has been special. The Thirteenth Tale and I Capture The Castle came along in my early teens when I was wondering if anyone else felt slightly lonely a lot of the time and like books were easier companions than people. Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit popped up in my life when I was despairing about coming to terms with my sexuality and my religious background. (In fact, I secretly read it in church during a particularly boring sermon with a feeling of rather illicit thrill.) Shiver appeared as if on cue when I was a sixteen -year- old despairing of ever finding a book series with a sensible protagonist. Just when I was wondering if there were any women writing in folkloric academia I stumbled across Georgina Boyes’ brilliant Imagined Village on a library shelf, and when I was trying to cope with stress and my mental health at university Nora Robert’s Dallas series was a huge comfort as I imagined the protagonist Eve forging forward with an unstoppable confidence and power. 

But before any of these books, before any of these discoveries, there was a nine-year-old who wandered around the countryside imagining she could control the weather and who was convinced that there were fairies in the hills. And there was a nine-year-old called Tiffany Aching. 

I don’t remember an awful lot about being nine, but I do remember an overwhelming feeling of impatience and mild irritation that people were insisting on treating me like I was, well, eight. Life as a home-educated only child in a sleepy country village suited me very well, and by the time I had reached nine I was being taught about life by a variety of tutors of varying levels of eccentricity. (The art lessons taught by a retired teacher in her front room were perfectly safe; the lessons in experimenting with home plumbing using a rusty saw from a retired photographer were possibly not.) I enjoyed conversing with all these ad-hoc tutors about lots of different topics, and if I came across a word I didn’t know I only had to look it up in the giant, battered red dictionary that was shelved next to the fish tank. (I only regretted this once, when after an over-dinner remark about me from a teasing friend of the family I looked up the word ‘precocious’ and then swore that family friend was now my enemy for life.) Other children my own age tended to find me a bit odd and I tended to find them a bit loud. I liked reading, and writing, and standing in the sea pretending I was a selkie. 

…It’s not exactly surprising, then, that when the audiobook of Tiffany Aching’s first adventure, The Wee Free Men, made its way into our car CD player it was love at first listen. Here, finally, was a nine-year-old like me! A nine-year-old that spoke in intelligent sentences – I immediately made sure to memorise the word susurration – didn’t rely on grown-ups and saved the day and the stupid boy at the end of the book. The CD was practically worn out within the year and I still hear the voice of Tony Robinson narrating it whenever I read a passage from the book in a way that is just a little bit unnerving.  I re-read it today for the first time in about twelve years for this homework and was struck by how much I wanted to dismiss the possibility of such a young girl being such a capable hero as impossible. My younger self hadn’t thought it was impossible; I’d thought it was practically the only book that showed how smart children under the age of ten could actually be. 

Self-identification through the protagonist aside, The Wee Free Men also was my first experience with the concept of witchcraft. As I’ve explored Paganism the last few years it’s been a surprise to discover that the witchery I thought of as ‘Tiffany Aching’s witchcraft’, presuming that it largely came from Pratchett’s imagination, was in fact just plain old witchcraft, very little fiction about it. As ever, the brilliance of Pratchett’s writing came from his real-life inspiration, and the believability of the rituals and supernatural ideas found in the Tiffany Aching series is down to their deep roots in traditions hundreds of years old. I have to say I’m thoroughly impressed with how Terry Pratchett managed to wind his plot round the crucial basics of witchcraft as it’s practised by those in the modern world, most notably the most important rule of all: And It Harm None, a theme that regularly comes up throughout the series. Growing up, thanks to Tiffany Aching, I didn’t think of witches as evil despots who cackled, boiled children in cauldrons and owned flying monkeys. I thought that they were clever, thoughtful women who knew that thinking first and talking second is always a good idea and that it’s never helpful to lose your temper or your courage, and it has to be said that as I increasingly meet witches in real life that seems to be quite a fair representation. (Even if they don’t tend to wear pointy hats, not even mostly invisible ones.) 

The Tiffany Aching books gave me a sense of confidence and a sense of identity when I needed it. If I ever have a daughter, I think my present for her ninth birthday is already decided.

[mayaparker]

Corndogs & Clarifications;

@ianncardero & Maya talk ghosts and healing

Day turned into evening, but the celebrations continued. Fortunately, Iann wasn't inebriated, so he got to take a stroll around, taking in his surroundings and enjoying the simple act of people watching. He felt an incredible calm, which was rare for him. So when the moment struck, he tended to grab on and appreciate that calm for what it as worth. He caught up with Maya Parker again, nodding at her to invite her to stroll with him. "So I can't remember - you just ended up in one other-world, or more than one?"

Maya had finished her milkshake awhile ago and switched it out for water. She'd grabbed a corndog earlier too. As she wandered the celebration, she caught sight of Iann who gave her a nod. She took his invitation. However his question made her take a deep breath. "More than one. About half a dozen of them all together," she replied, "You?"

"A few myself, and each one I thought I'd be prepared for after the last, but nope. Still pulled the rug from under my feet every time." Iann eyed the corndog, wondering when was the last time he'd had a corndog. They were ridiculously delicious. "I'm just glad I ended up with people who were able to, y'know. Take ass and kick names."

Maya nodded, "You can say that again." For her, the last one had been the most difficult. But they were all their own kind of horrible. "I don't know if I know anybody in this town who can't kick ass when it comes down to it," she replied. There were probably a few, but so many people seemed to seek haven here and no one who needed safe haven hadn't been through a trial. "You think it's really over?" she asked.

"I can't," Iann volunteered readily with a grin. "So I guess I just ended up in the right town for everyone to protect my sorry ass. Then again, if I was in another town, this shit would never happen. Ah well..." For Iann, he could defend and justify the weirdness and danger of the supernatural world until he was blue in the face, even if it meant fatality for him. "I trust everyone around me who can sense it's over. Some magical folk just have that sixth sense about these things, y'know? And when you're surrounded by many people who have that sixth sense, and seventh sense, and even eighth sense..." Iann nodded towards the chillaxing townsfolk. "...supernaturals make for very good weather vanes. So to speak."

"Suppose I can't argue with that," Maya replied, "Any of it really." She waved her corn dog as she made an all encompassing sort of gesture. When he said that he trusted it was over, she nodded. She did get that sense. Whatever magic that had been pulling them into the twisted Wonderlands felt gone. But she couldn't trust it. "Did anyone ever figure out who was causing all of it?" she asked. Maybe that would help her feel less like there was still an ax hanging over their heads.

Iann frowned, as he thought about that prison world, with Essie Caird. "Avi...Sharma, I guess his name was? He's not dead, but he's not alive either. At least, I don't think. Essie and I encountered him in one of the worlds. He behaved like some sort of spirit guide for us to get out of that world. And free his long-lost brother. Who was actually alive. Now that guy's disappearance is a whole other can of beans. Buddy used to be Sheriff of Soapberry, before shit went down and he disappeared for years."

"So this Avi was causing all of it?" Maya asked, brow furrowed. She took a bite of her corndog. "Wasn't he the guy who got killed in that medieval fantasy world we were in?" she asked, "Is that when he...not died?" She didn't know if Iann knew all of that, but he might. Mostly she was just curious about it.

"I don't know. Him, or his brother. There was always rumours that the old Sheriff didn't disappear naturally, like. He didn't just die, or skip town. But I...well I never looked into it. Got too busy." Because there was always something new happening in Soapberry, for Iann. Some crisis or issue or panic. Iann hadn't considered the connection to the fantasy world, but Maya did make a good point. "He was only there to die, wasn't he. Maybe that's when all this shit started. Because that was actually some other-world that we all got pulled into. Maybe that rift opened the town up for the potential for more rifts."

Maya chewed thoughtfully on another bite of corndog. "That would make sense. Or that combined with that other thing you were talking about, like magical residue or something?" Maybe that first rift had broken the ice for all these other ones. She supposed that she might never know properly. It seemed like with the Sharma brothers gone though, it was properly over. "Guess that does mean that whole thing is properly over then," she said although with no real finality in her voice. After a moment of silence, she added, "I saw my mom again. In one of them."

"You're boning up on your magical know-how, huh?" Iann said with a grin. "I mean, you're the witch, so I'd defer to your instinct. It's a part of who you are." It wasn't like witchery was like mathematics, something to learn. It was inherent, like being right or left handed. It was a characteristic that Iann could never have. "You did, huh?" Iann said, surprised when Maya shared about her mother.

"I've had a surprising amount of time on my hands," Maya replied, a statement which was true due to her inability to get a proper night's sleep. She gave him a smile , "I mean, I'd get a second opinion if I were you. But yeah, it feels gone." She nodded, smile turning bittersweet when he asked to confirm about her mother. "I did, I think they all went back to wherever they came from. The ghosts, I mean," she explained.

"Ahhh, letting Tuah do all the boring-ass paperwork setup shit for the bakery thing, huh? Smart," Iann grinned. He was being facetious; he could read between Maya's lines, but he didn't ask her about it directly. He'd learned by now that she allowed herself to be direct with questions, but disliked directness reciprocated. "This is my second opinion," he said as he looked at the Town Square. Iann nodded about the ghosts. "Yeah. I found my, ah, ghost as well. With Tuah, coincidentally." Mostly a coincidence in so much as Iann knew Maya was business-partnered to Tuah. "And yeah - she got her ass kicked back to her afterlife. So I guess you mother went back to her everlasting feast with your pops."

Maya gave a laughed, "Well, obviously. We all know I can't do math." She appreciated that Iann had changed his way of asking her questions. He seemed to appreciate direct more than anything else, so that was how she asked him things. Today though she didn't tell him that she hadn't been sleeping. She knew what he would say. She should ask for help. Her friends would want her to ask for help. But she was too terrified of what it felt like it would mean for her to do so. "Who else said it was over?" she asked, wanting a second opinion herself. Aside from nodding, Maya didn't react much to Iann's words at first. She was thinking about his ghost and hers. "Do you think they were real? The nothingness she talked about or the eternal feasting my mom said?" she asked.

"This," Iann answered again, motioning around to the people around them. "This is my second opinion. The entire town out and relaxed, and no rifts opening up and swallowing anyone for hours. Instinct, remember? Magical instinct." Iann pointed upwards, at the giant glowing moon. "Friday the 13th, on a Harvest Full moon? C'mon. I'm sure even your dulled witch-senses are tingling." As for the ghosts, Iann hummed under his breath. "Okay where'd you get the corndog, I want one," he said first to dispel the potentially grim air. Then he said, "When Annie went away, she mentioned that nothing again. She had no reason to lie about it - it's not like she wanted to make me feel better, and she couldn't make me feel bad about it."

Maya looked around too. People did look happy and relaxed. Plus, Iann was right. No one had been swallowed by a rift during the festival. Maya took a deep breath and let it out. She could sense magic in the air, although none of it malicious. "I guess we win then," she said. At his question, she gestured behind them, "A food truck, just a bit back." She paused, so they could turn and head towards the corndogs. She nodded. If Iann thought Annie was telling the truth, Maya believed him. She had to wonder what that meant for her. Her mother had been telling the truth, meaning that right now her mom was probably catching up her dad up on all things baby girl. She didn't know how she felt about that. She didn't know how she felt about the fact that maybe they had been in a better place all this time. "Good," was all she said with a nod, "I'm glad they're all back in a better place." Maya couldn't help the shiver that went up her spine. "Sorry, still can't stand that phrase."

Iann snorted. "Where ever Annie returned, I don't know if it's better so much as known...." he muttered, as he backtracked to the food truck, to fetch himself a corndog. "But I'm sure your mom didn't enjoy being stuck in some shit-world. Just a guess."

Maya had to give him that. She only nodded though, hardly knowing Annie well enough to judge what she might've wanted. She nodded again, "Yeah, I think most places would be better than where I found her." She shrugged, "That afterlife's probably nicer than dealing with your stubborn daughter too." There was a bittersweetness to her tone that suggested she had found closure with her mom. By the end, they'd both learned to accept that they were strangers who loved each other. It was a strange thing to be, but it was a better than trying to pretend they were properly mother and daughter. "So what do we do next then?" she asked, "Eat, drink and be merry?"

Iann raised an eyebrow at Maya's self-slamming comment. Not the stubborn thing so much as saying her mom would prefer to be somewhere that didn't include or involve her daughter. He stood in line, ignoring the 'what next' for now. "C'mon. That's really what you believe? That your mom wants something 'nicer' away from you? Just how much do you hate yourself, kid?"

Maya looked up at Iann, surprised. She hadn't really been thinking about what she was saying. For a moment, she didn't say anything. She then gave him a half hearted laugh, "I don't think she'd want a life where she was following me around twenty four seven. But I mean, Iann, we were strangers. I know she loves me and if there was a way for her to stay properly, but being a ghost isn't any kind of life either." Maya was avoiding the real question. She knew that while what she said was technically true, it was all to avoid the question. Because she knew the answer. More so than usual. She hated herself more so than usual.

Iann had figured Maya could've deflected with something simple like 'it was just a joke' and a sassy roll of her eyes or something. Her answer was a different sort of deflection though, one that Iann sucked at his teeth as he tasted it, before he nodded. "I mean, I remember the way your mama only had eyes and attention for you. Complete, unflagging attention for you, nothing else mattered. Total tunnel vision and you filled up her entire lens." Iann reached up to take his corndog, paying for it and slathering a shitload of hot mustard on it. "I can't believe that she'd make you believe that any other existence would be preferable to being with you, even if she had to spend it as a ghost."

Maya shook her head and gave Iann a grapefruit kind of smile. "She didn't," she replied, "But it’s not really about what anybody who loves me says, is it? It's all that shit that's still trapped up in my head." She took a bite of her corndog before laughing. "You know, I'm not exclusively this depressing," she said referring to the fact that Iann often seemed to get her to talk about her emotions, "At least like half the time I'm totally fun."

Iann smiled then, as she gave a little laugh. "Ahhhh, I got it," he said, tapping the side of his nose and giving her a confidential wink. "Gotta love yourself before you believe that you're lovable to others," he murmured. He took a bite of his corndog then though, and made an emphatic 'umph' noise. "Oh now that's what I'm talking about. This, Maya. You want proof those hell rifts are over? These corndogs prove it," he said, waving his towards her. He continued walking again, munching on the deepfried snack. "It's my fault, I suck at small talk. And most social etiquette, honestly. It's okay though; I mean I like it better than fake smiles and plastic fun." He looked at Maya. "Unless you want fake smiles and all that?"

Maya blushed and cast her gaze momentarily downwards. "Seems to be that way," she replied. She brought her gaze back up when Iann commented that corndogs were proof enough that the hell rifts were over. She managed a laugh. "They definitely don't make corndogs this good in hell," she agreed. She waved off his claim of it being his fault. "Nah, I don't mind it. And I'm thinking it might actually be good for me. But I just want to make sure you're not going to call Social Services on me or anything," she explained, "Shit's been pretty rough lately. But I really am the happiest I can remember here. And the most healed, or whatever the actual word for that is."

"Isn't Social Services just for kids? Or...is there one for adults too?" Iann asked, bemused. "But I'm not out to get you, I promise. I won't ever be, and I'm not exactly qualified to call the feds on anyone, considering my own...everything." Iann didn't even know where he'd start, with how utterly disconnected he was to the system and the authority that Maya seemed to believe he eagerly and unquestioningly followed. "So what's gonna happen when it gets less happy? Because it will. It always does." Iann didn't even mean that in a negative way; life just had huge ups and drastic downs, always.

"It's just kids and super old people," Maya replied. But she shook her head when he mentioned not being out to get her. "I don't think you're out to get me or call whoever it is you call for adults. I just mean, you don't have to worry me, even just fleetingly," she clarified, "You might not be anyway, but I just..." She shrugged, not sure how to explain herself properly. "Wanted to make sure since I do seem to always get all deep about my emotions with you." She inhaled and then let out a long breath when he asked what she would do when things got difficult again. "I really don't know. I'm sure this is the opposite of a surprise, I've never really had healthy coping mechanisms. I mean, it kept me alive, but they weren't healthy. So I don't know what that looks like for me, but I'm going to find out. Like I said, I'm stubborn and I want to know who I'll be when I've healed from all that shit."

"Ahhh so it's for you, and for me," he said with a dry laugh when Maya said it was for kids and the elderly. He lobbed the corn dog stick into the compost bin and looked at Maya in surprise. "Kid, from the first time I met you, I could peg you as someone I should never worry about. Or be concerned about, or even think about in my spare time. Because I could tell you'd balk at the very idea. I'll take deep emotions over pretend-y anyway. It can be awkward and uncomfortable as shit, but..." Iann exhaled, scratching at his chin. "I dunno. It's real. So I'm glad you go there." When Maya talked about her coping mechanisms, Iann nodded, understanding this well. "Man...imagine if you find out one of your healthy coping mechanisms is like...I don't know...pilates. Or like...fantasy football." He grinned at Maya, nudging at her side. "You're gonna be soooo embarrassed."

Maya nodded, "It's a lot like corndogs like that." She listened as Iann explained that he didn't worry about her because he didn't think she'd want him too. Which was exactly right. "Good," she said and then with a shrug added, "And it took me about six years, but I realized you have to go there if you ever want to heal." With a self deprecating laugh, she tacked on, "Course I still can't do it some days. But today's good." She laughed, "There no way its fantasy football, not with all that math. But unfortunately for my ego I can't count out pilates."

It wasn't so much as Iann didn't think she'd want him to; it was the idea of Maya balking - to the point where she'd escalate to active, aggressive resistance, just to prove to herself that she wasn't worth anyone worrying about her. It was the sort of contradictory self-destruction that Iann had encountered before, and so he avoided it with Maya to spare her the agony of having to rejecting herself. "Today's good because you're a witch, and it's a Harvest moon on Friday the 13th," he teased. "You gonna go dance wildly in the moonlight with Faye or anything?"

Maya feigned shock. "Who told you about that? It's supposed to be a secret," she joked. "Actually I'm probably going to head home soon and see if I can't catch up on some sleep," she said.

The moment Maya mentioned sleep, it instinctively made Iann yawn like a responsive child. He reached his arms up, stretching out his back, which popped in the most gratifying way. "Oh man. Yeah. You think I should take you up on that nap you mentioned?"

Maya smiled, "I think you should always take me up on any nap I mention. Guess, I'll see you around then, yeah?"

Iann chucked one side of his teeth and winked at her. "See you around. And if you get any more foreboding warnings of doom later on, call me first, kid."

[artgirllullaby]

Double Trouble

The fact I’m posting this when season 3 just started is purely coincidence.

No, really. I planned to post this 3 days ago, but I had another project that required my attention until yesterday so I couldn’t focus completely.

So here it’s to @jantomweek day 4 prompt “double date”. I admit I had a lot of  fun with this one and even wrote this before day 3 haha.

A special mention to @weather-artz cause I know she loves Jantom, I hope this little bit helps to bright your day my child <3

Anyways I hope you guys like and have fun!

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

There were just a few things in this world that Janna couldn’t understand. For one, she would never get the right value of x (she gave up long ago, but miraculously always got the right answer in math tests even if her whole account was wrong), she wasn’t able to do voodoo (yet!), Tom somehow was hella chill around her… But the biggest mystery and that made Janna break a glass she was holding once (just by her own force) on how much she raged at it, was the fact Star and Marco were just friends.

And they are fine with it.

“I mean…” Janna went on one of her rants as she and Tom were chilling at her sofa forgetting all about Friday the 13th gameplay they were watching after dying once again, “if they were really just friends it would be ok, but they are not! You don’t act to your friends like they do! They are pretty much dating each other without noticing and letting out the kissing part and stuff!”

“Uhm…” Tom murmured listening to her, but it felt like he was paying more attention to the inexistent tangles he was undoing on her hair as she laid on his chest and while he was laying on the couch.

“I am serious! Tom, they have matching keychains! Star has a Yin and Marco has a Yang and if you put they close they glue to each other by the magnets inside! We didn’t have matching keychains before we started dating!”

“To be fair we already used matching wristbands,” Tom replied looking at her ceiling. Was that a blood drop or another mosquito corpse glued in the there?

“I am serious, Tom!” Janna whined turning around so she could look on his face and pulling his leg of the couch by doing so, “We need to do something!”

Tom huffed and rested his hands on her back, “I don’t see the point in that.”

“Don’t you care about our friends?”

“You know I do, but I don’t see why it should concern us.”

“Because it’s making me mad. It’s just so freaking obvious they like each other why they don’t just-” Janna pointed to a random direction with both hands- “Do it.”

Her boyfriend pulled her into his chest gently caressing her hair again (why did he like that so much?), “I understand you want them together and you love them, but force won’t help anyone. It might have the opposite effect even.” She huffed and he gave a light kiss on the top of her head. “We can’t be cupids, you know very well how that ended badly the last time we tried.” They both shivered at the memory of when Janna learned a love spell by accident and had half of Echo Creek falling in love with objects instead of people...

“There must be something we can do!” She pouted.

Tom looked at the wall across him thinking, “Well… The most we can do it’s to call them to tag along on a date. They won’t want to be around for long and will have no other option but to hang out with each other.”

She moved on his chest, “I guess it could work…”

Tom smiled and kissed her forehead, “We can’t do much more than that anyway.”

“Fine…” Janna supported herself on her elbows in his chest, “We gonna use those tickets we got from the park, I’ll get two new ones and say we won the 4 of them”

“Sounds like a plan.” Suddenly there was a voice of a woman speaking and he looked at the screen where showed Jason walking back to his house where his dead mother called him. “Well, new round. We go with who this time?”

Janna didn’t reply, instead of holding his face turning towards her again and smashing her lips against his. The last thing that the demon would do in this world would be complaining about her surprise kisses (he wouldn’t dream of interrupting either, especially when it got this passionate) if was one of the best parts of dating her. Janna simply didn’t give a care on where or who was watching and was able to make him forget about that too when she kissed him.

For good or bad she was like drinking to him and he was past phase of drunk in love.

“Hey, if you two are going to make out at least mute the damn microphone again!”

Janna leaned back smirking at Tom and he blushed frowning at her. The bad part was the huge embarrassment she would put him into (since she didn’t care about it), by parents gasping, disgusted children, groaning in movies, complainings and witness around.

His girlfriend sat up and took the controller setting them to play as Jason and then getting the headphone to use.

“Get ready to get smashed guys!” she said and Tom heard the players groaning, two even got out the server. Janna was a merciless Jason, if you didn’t get to call the cops and have a way to run away before she got the 3 first powers, then there would be no way to win.

She put the microphone on mute again when he sat beside her and kissed his cheek, “If I get to kill all of them you call; if one of them get to escape, I’ll call them. Afterwards, some make out.” she winked at him and then got back in the game that was just starting.

Tom smiled, “Let’s see if you can.” He pulled her towards his lap hugging her by the back giving a sweet kiss on her jaw.

After all his teasing by tickles, kisses and even screaming to the players on where she was going, she called Star and Marco. And only after he got the kisses he wanted. Still worth it.

.

.

None of this was worth.

Janna was angrily sipping her smoothie, Star looking at her worried and Tom acting completely indifferent. She was mad, but unless she took the Witchery handbook out her pocket things would be fine.

“Why are you so mad?”

“Because out of all days and out of all people to meet in the freaking park, we had to meet Jackie and she had to come today!” Janna smashed the plastic cup on her hand as she looked at Marco and Jackie friendly talking as they were getting their ice creams.

Star looked confused at Janna, “I thought you were friends too?”

“We are! But not-” Janna sighed heavily- “Just not a good moment for her to be here…”

Tom handed some paper napkins so Janna could clear her hands from the smoothie she smashed, “It’s not like she’ll tag along, she’ll be back to her friends soon.”

“Hey, guys!” Marco said handing an ice cream to Star and eating his as Jackie was still waiting for hers, “Guess what?”

Tom had a bad feeling and made negative signals with his arms doing an X to Marco behind Janna, he looked at it just confused as Star, but paid attention to Janna anyways “Just say it, Marco”

“Uh…” He decided to ignore Tom’s wild signals and replied Janna, “Jackie’s friend got sick in a ride and they are riding back and won’t come back until later, so she’ll be tagging along for the afternoon!”

Janna let out something that sounded like a roar and jumped to Marco’s throat, being stopped by Tom who held her by the waist before getting her on his shoulder and walking off so she could calm down.

“What was that?” Jackie asked as she watched Tom carrying a cursing Janna away.

“No idea.” Both Marco and Star shrugged.

.

At the end of the day, Jackie was finally back with her friends. To make sure Marco didn’t suddenly decide to turn the “double date” against them, Janna made girls and boys day by doing some rides with Star and Jackie while Tom and Marco went on the other cars.

They were finally eating something waiting for the night show to start in an hour. Janna was happily chatting with Star while eating her fries when suddenly her friend began to feed Marco and giggle as he texted his mother that they had already eaten, but that wasn’t out of ordinary.

What was out of the ordinary was Marco quickly looking around and then going up to Star and giving her a quick peck on the lips.

Janna dropped the french fry on her hand, Tom blinked twice and her jaw dropped to the table. Star giggled at Marco and turned to them again blinked innocently at their shock.

“Uh, you guys ok?”

And then Janna let out a scream while Tom went on laughing hysterically.

“Since when?! How?! Why you didn’t say anything?! How come no one knows?! How I didn’t know?!”

“Uh…” Star thought for a second before replying “Since a year ago… We kinda realized and decided to give a try… Sorry, I lost the other questions.”

“How no one knows and how she didn’t know.” Marco supplied.

“Thanks, honey” Star smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek “We aren’t exactly hiding, we just don’t know how to announce and we aren’t fans of public demonstrations either, so… I guess this answer both questions.”

Tom had finally found a way to stop laughing and fist bumped Marco “Congratulations on your victory man.”

Marco smiles sheepishly “Thanks.”

“You didn’t tell me” Janna pouted sitting back and crossing her arms.

“I'm sorry, we just… decided to let everyone figure it out. It wasn’t my intention to hide.”

Tom hugged Janna by the waist and kissed her cheek “Come on, at least they are together and Jackie wasn’t a threat as you thought. And they to be a thing wasn’t what you wanted?”

“I guess” Janna took another french fry and pouted. Star and Marco laughed in her childish behavior and Tom kissed her cheek again so she gave in and smiled. “Well, I guess this deserves a cheer?”

Everyone grabbed their sodas, Star had a cup since she was sharing hers with Marco. Tom was the one to speak up, “To the most subtle double date ever”

“Agreed, cheers on us!” Marco giggled.

“I never thought I would see my ex-boyfriend with my friend while on a double date with my best friend and current boyfriend. Earth is weird.”

“Well, it makes us wonder what if things went different somehow right?” Marco said laughing.

“Not for me.” Everyone took their drinks, but Janna finished speaking, “I would still be ok since I had a crush on every person in this table.”

Janna took her soda while all the others spilled theirs.

[unfetteredwood]

The Cure for Persistent Dudebros? Apparently Witchcraft.

I have a friend that has gotten rather inventive in doling out rejection in situations where dudebros don’t seem to pick up on more subtle, polite ways of being told that she is not interested. 

Recently while out with her and some other women, I got to witness her methods first hand, which worked like a charm. ;) 

There was a group of frat boys who were not taking a hint that none of us were available/interested and some of them were even getting quite belligerent. After about 10 minutes or so it was clear that they weren’t just going to leave us be, so she announced that her friend {that would be me} “is a witch who knows a spell that can make their peckers shrivel up if they don’t fuck off in 3,2,1....”

And wouldn’t you know they did indeed go way. It may be that they just thought that we were nutters and not worth the bother, or perhaps they weren’t going to chance it. Either way we got what we wanted. 

Moral of the story is that sometimes the threat of witchery is just as effective as when you have to dust off the books and bring out the candles. 

As a wee aside, there are spells that can apparently do what my friend threatened, but I don’t know how well they work. But, that is probably another post altogether. 

[water-witchling]

Get to know the blogger!

Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 92 truths about you. At the end choose 25 people to be tagged. I was tagged by: @circee​ (so it took me so long to get to it) LAST:
Last drink: Water
Last phone call: The TA from one of my classes asking if we had class 😂
Last text message: asking same TA where to meet for lab today
Last song you listened to: Love Me Or Leave Me Alone-Dustin Lynch
Last time I cried: Not sure, probably at a sad movie


HAVE YOU EVER:
Dated someone twice: Yea 😒
Been cheated on: pretty sure but never confirmed
Kissed someone and regretted it: 100%
Lost someone special: Yes
Been depressed: Yep 
Been drunk and thrown up: Who hasn’t?


IN THE PAST YEAR HAVE YOU:
Made a new friend: Yes!
Fallen out of love: Nope
Laughed until you cried: Of course, it’s not hard to make me laugh
Met someone who changed you: Hmmm still undetermined 
Found out who your true friends were: Definitely
Found out someone was talking about you: nope


GENERAL:
How many people on tumblr do you know in real life?: lol seriously? None
Do you have any pets?: Yep. A cat named Romeo and a bearded dragon named Saphira
Do you want to change your name?: I like my name
What time did you wake up this morning?: 6
What were you doing last night?: teaching my mom how to use her new phone
Name something you cannot wait for: This weekend! Fall break spent with the boyfriend
Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Lol my uncle and cousin
What’s getting on your nerves rn?: This irrelevant boy in some of my classes that thinks he is hot shit
Blood type: Lmao I should probably learn that
Nickname: Tiff, Tiffy, FiFi by my nieces and nephews
Relationship status: Taken! Our 5th anniversary is October 13th
Zodiac sign: Aries
Pronouns: She/her
Favorite tv show: Prob Game of Thrones
College: Akready have a BS in Narine Biology, currently going back for a second BS in Veterinary Technology
Hair colour: Auburn
Do you have a crush on someone: Does my boyfriend count?
What do you like about yourself: my ability to talk to literally anyone


FIRSTS:
First surgery: tonsil and adenoid removal
First piercing: Ears
First sport you joined: Dance, but that was a flop
First vacation: lmao I was a pageant kid, we travelled a lot 
First pair of sneakers: Like I remember 
Eating: Just had a sandwich and chips
Drinking: Water
I’m about to: Go to the barn for equine lab
Listening to: Heart Break-Lady Antebellum 
Want kids: Of course
Get married: Probably in the next few years
Career: currently a student, dream career is working with marine mammals


WHICH IS BETTER:
Lips or eyes: Lips
Hugs or kisses: Kisses
Shorter or taller: at least taller than me 
Older or younger: Older
Romantic or spontaneous: Either
Sensitive or loud: Loud.
Hook up or relationship: Relationship
Troublemaker or hesitant: Trouble maker. 


HAVE YOU EVER:
Kissed a stranger: Yes
Drank hard liquor: Yes
Lost glasses/contacts: nope
Sex on first date: Nope
Broken someone’s heart: Yea not proud of that one
Been arrested: Nope
Turned someone down: Yes
Fallen for a friend: Yes


DO YOU BELIEVE:
In yourself: Most of the time
Miracles: Yes
Love at first sight: Yes because that’s how he loved me
Heaven: heaven? No, some form of afterlife? Yes
Santa Claus: I wish he was lmao

Okay, idk if I can tag 25 people but here goes

@alder-witch @mai-muse @lovely-amethyst-witch @alittleforestwitch @a-witch-and-her-creatures @amethyst-affirmations @bekkathyst @breelandwalker @belladonnaswitchblog @black-cat-boy @donnaoria @enchantress-in-me @floralwaterwitch @folksywitchery @fuckyeahpaganism @gemstonedgoddess @greenwitchqueen @gothic-sea-witchery @herbs-and-spells @hellboundwitch @heatherwitch @insertcheesywitchypunhere @kitchenwitchcraft @natural-magics @rosemarymilkwitch

[nanabeats]

Stealing a thing!

Stealing this from @a-kitsuneet-and-a-cybele, but instead just answering things down the list that I can or feel comfortable enough answering

1:Full name Alice Armstrong.

2:Age 22, last I checked

3: Fears? Mostly anxiety-related things, but something you might not expect is a fear of silence. Better dead than deaf, imo

4: 3 things I love I’mma be a dork and list @daxreythaak here. Also, music and good  food

5: 4 turns on Nope! Try again later.

6: 4 turns off Bad grammar, low intelligence, persistent clinginess,  and big egos.

7:My best friend Not answering this because it’s not a competition

8:Sexual orientation Yes.

9:My best first date Uhm. Dates? Right, people do those...

10:How tall am I 6′3

11:What do I miss Headshots. Every time. 

12:What time were I born Grammar o’clock. 3:44 AM, I think?

13:Favourite color Purple

14:Do I have a crush No, though I might go get one from the gas station. Orange sounds tasty right about now

15:Favourite quote This changes based on the day. Give me a topic, I’ll come up with something quotable for it

16:Favourite place My bed

17:Favourite food Knowing that Dax is reading this right now, General Tso’s chicken is fucking delicious

18:Do I use sarcasm? Never. Is there any other answer to this?

19:What am I listening to right now: Ga1ahad and the Scientific Witchery by Mili. @grexion just put it on in Plug. https://plug.dj/makais-shipyard

20:First thing I notice in new person: Hair

21:Shoe size Big

22:Eye color Blue with hazel flecks, or hazel with a blue ring around it. Depends on who you ask

23:Hair color? Very very brown

24:Favourite style of clothing? Simple.

25:Kiss someone that starts with the letter “R”? No/

27:Meaning behind my URL I wanted Foxy-thoughts but it was taken. Also foxes. And thoughts. And personal blog. Pretty self explanitory

28:Kiss someone that starts with the letter “M”? Teeeeeeeeeechnically?

29:Favourite song: At the moment, Zenmajikake no Kami wa Kaku Katakiri by Automata Girl. If I haven’t posted it yet, I will tomorrow

30:Favourite band: Depends on the day, but Alstroemeria, Shibayan, and RD-Sounds are my top three

31:How I feel right now? On a scale of 1-10? Ask Ana mains how they feel about onetrick Genjis stuck in low Silver, and convert that to a number. 

32:Someone I love: Already tagged @daxreythaak

33:My current relationship status Taken by ^

34:My relationship with my parents? FUCK NO

35:Favourite holiday: yule/Winter Solstice 

36:Tattoos and piercing i have: None

37:Tattoos and piercing i want: None

38:The reason I joined Tumblr: Long story short, @the-cursed-swordsman is a fucking cool blog.

39:Do I and my last ex hate each other? Normally? No. Presently? Fucking pissed at him for something that happened an hour ago

40:Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? The latter, occasionally

41:Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? EW NO! She has 44 years on me and I could go on for ages ranting about why that’s a bad idea

42:When did I last hold hands? Either this morning, 8:30 AM or last night, 8:00 PM

43:How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? Depends on how long I’m given. On a day where I have nothing to do? Three to five hours. Emergency? Three to five seconds, depending on how quickly I can get my legs over the edge of the bed 

44:Have You shaved your legs in the past three days? No

45:Where am I right now? Work

46:If I were drunk &; can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? The morgue. I don’t drink.

47:Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? Reasonable. Normally.

48:Do I live with my Mom and Dad? I’d murder the former and the latter hasn’t been in my life for twelve years now. Thank god. No.

49:Am I excited for anything? POP|CULTURE 6, Alstroemeria Records

50:Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?

51:How often do I wear a fake smile? Nope!

52:When was the last time I hugged someone? Today, 9-ish AM

53:What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? I’d be confused as hell...

54:Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? Probably

55:What is something I disliked about today? Everything but Plug and so far, this list

56:If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? Nah, I’m content as I am

57:What do I think about most? Anxiety things!

58:What’s my strangest talent? I guess I can kick myself in the face if I want to? Don’t ask how I learned that or where I got a prize for it?

59:Do I have any strange phobias? Silence

60:Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Behind.

61:What was the last lie I told? “Fine, I won’t drag you into this discussion”.

62:Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online? Chatting online. I hate phone calls.

63:Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? If they exist, they exist. If they eventually matter, they eventually matter.  However, they do not matter to me at this moment, therefore they are not something I am concerned with

64:Do I believe in magic? To an extent

65:Do I believe in luck? Aye

66:What’s the weather like right now? Cloudy

67:What was the last book I’ve read? The Iron Druid Chronicles book two, Hexed, I think?

68:Do I like the smell of gasoline? No?

69:Do I have any nicknames? Plenty

70:What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? Rolled my ankle once. Hurt worse than the road rash from ditching my bike when a car cut me off, so probably more severe. I don’t get injured. I get sick.

71:Do I spend money or save it? Spend...

72:Can I touch my nose with a tounge? With someone else’s, yes

73:Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me? Grammar. And no.

74:Favourite animal? DO YOU HAVE TO ASK?

75:What was I doing last night at 12 AM? Getting ready for bed. The night before that? Talking to people

76:What do I think is Satan’s last name is? Zhou.

77:What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B7xai5u_tnk

78:How can you win my heart? Nope!

79:What would I want to be written on my tombstone? Something that other people will see as fitting

80:What is my favorite word?

81:My top 5 blogs on tumblr

82:If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?

83:Do I have any relatives in jail?

84:I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?

85:What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

86:What is my current desktop picture? I have entire folder of these that I could share sometime if anyone wants me to.

87:Had sex? Yes

88:Bought condoms? Yes

89:Gotten pregnant? No

90:Failed a class? Only once, when sabotaged by my mother. I was still one of the best students in that class

91:Kissed a boy? Aye

92:Kissed a girl? Yup

93:Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? I think so?

94:Had job? Kinda

95:Left the house without my wallet? Who needs a wallet when you’re broke?

96:Bullied someone on the internet? Yes

97:Had sex in public? Kinda

98:Played on a sports team? No

99:Smoked weed? Not actively, though my stepdad was a dealer and the house always smelled of it

100:Did drugs? HELL no

101:Smoked cigarettes? Nope

102:Drank alcohol? Kinda, leaning no.

103:Am I a vegetarian/vegan? No.

104:Been overweight? Aye

105:Been underweight? No

106:Been to a wedding? Once

107:Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? Frequently

108:Watched TV for 5 hours straight? When younger

109:Been outside my home country? Yes

110:Gotten my heart broken? Kinda?

111:Been to a professional sports game? Twice

112:Broken a bone? No

113:Cut myself? Never intentionally. I’ve cut myself ON things, but I’ve never self-harmed

114:Been to prom? And hated the picture from it

115:Been in airplane? No

116:Fly by helicopter? No

117:What concerts have I been to? I’d rather not...

118:Had a crush on someone of the same sex? What part of “Sexuality? Yes.” do you not get? Yes.

119:Learned another language? Partially

120:Wore make up? Yes

121:Lost my virginity before I was 18? No, actually

122:Had oral sex? Yes

123:Dyed my hair? It would kill me

124:Voted in a presidential election? No, the only one that I’ve been old enough to vote in was the most recent one, and at that point I was stuck in legal limbo between two counties and couldn’t get to where I was registered

125:Rode in an ambulance? No

126:Had a surgery? Not yet

127:Met someone famous? Kinda?

128:Stalked someone on a social network? Kinda

129:Peed outside? Yes

130:Been fishing? Yes

131:Helped with charity? Yes

132:Been rejected by a crush? Kinda? But not really.

133:Broken a mirror? Yes

134:What do I want for birthday? A “my” in this question. Also for people not to pay attention to it. Or maybe a new laptop would be nice

135:How many kids do I want and what will be their names? Five. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen. Never. And Fat Chance. Really though, please no kids

136:Was I named after anyone? No

137:Do I like my handwriting? No

138:What was my favourite toy as a child? I don’t remember

139:Favourite Tv Show? Presently? Rick and Morty, though I watch it online.

140:Where do I want to live when older? Somewhere peaceful

141:Play any musical instrument? No

142:One of my scars, how did I get it? Set my hand on a broken mirror.

143:Favourite pizza toping? Topping. Bacon?

144:Am I afraid of the dark? No

145:Am I afraid of heights? Kinda?

146:Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? Gotten caught? Almost. Once. Though it wasn’t “bad”, per-se. My mother walked into my room unannounced during my first ever orgasm. That was... Interesting. She still doesn’t know about this.

147:Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? Aye

148:What I’m really bad at: Lots of things

149:What my greatest achievments are

150:The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me: I don’t really hold on to things like that

151:What I’d do if I won in a lottery Invest

152:What do I like about myself: Well, I’m a fairly influential person when I choose to be, and I’m fairly good at pulling through tough spots

153:My closest Tumblr friend Not a contest, so not answering

154:Something I fantasise about: [REDACTED]

[inkandblade]

04: Glamor

Stiles stepped back out of the waiter’s way and slipped behind one of the standing tables lined up close to the wall of the club. It wasn’t much darker than the rest of the place, but it would keep him hidden. The amulet was powerful enough to deflect attention and give the impression of someone who looked very different to him. It wasn’t enough to make him look like another person completely if he was focused on. It would do. Derek wouldn’t be expecting to see him, so he wouldn’t be looking. If Derek caught sight of the tanned, blond man nursing a beer in the corner, he wouldn’t look twice.

Derek didn’t seem to pay much attention to blonds, though he did like watching men.

There’d been nine weekends where Derek had waved all the other Pack members off for their not-work activities and told them he’d be going camping. Stiles had never been one to take a statement at face value, though, and it hadn’t taken much for him to doubt Derek’s story.

The first weekend of the summer was the wettest, and Derek’s four-wheel-drive had definitely not been on any kind of muddy trail in that time. It hadn’t been washed since the Friday either, as four-year-old Michaela McCall’s slushie accident was still evident on the Toyota’s rear bumper. Stiles had let himself ignore it, however, figuring that Derek had been using the phrase ‘camping’ to just mean ‘getting away from you lot for a while’. Stiles would begrudge no one their mental-health breaks, especially when the whole Pack was back in town for the first time in years. Derek had probably gotten used to more solitude than they were giving him.

When the second weekend came around and Stiles found himself helping Boyd load Derek’s tent and things into the back of the car, though, well. He knew he shouldn’t pry, but he’d done it anyway. Derek’s duffel definitely did not contain the kinds of things one wore while communing with the great outdoors. A quick glimpse had uncovered Alexander McQueen and Comme des Garçons labels. Stiles hadn’t really grown out of jeans and t-shirts himself, but he’d had a couple of things with guys over the last few years who’d worn labels like that. Definitely not for the great outdoors.

The third weekend Stiles had made sure he’d followed far enough behind that Derek didn’t notice he was being tailed all the way into San Francisco. Tonight was Stiles’ seventh time following Derek, his fifth where he’d done more than just get a vague idea of where Derek was hanging out. He had a room in the same hotel. He needed to make sure Derek was okay.

Stiles told himself he was doing this for the Pack. He wasn’t exactly a full witch, but he could wield ash and create warding runes and power things like the amulet he had in his pocket. There hadn’t been any big-bads for a while, and he was making sure he was still in practice. That, and, fancy clothes meant Derek was getting dressed up. Dressing up meant going out or trying to impress someone, or both. Derek’s track record with relationships was even worse than Stiles’ though. And while Stiles always ended up with bad-boys that proved just why they were called that very quickly, Derek’s romantic failures had ended in flames, blood, and gunfire. Stiles was spying on Derek for his own good. And for the good of the Pack, of course.

Derek wasn’t coming into the city to meet a certain person, though. He wasn’t meeting anyone in particular, or at all. Stiles had watched him leave six different bars and go back to six different hotel rooms all alone. He’d drink a little, flirt a little, and a few times he’d even danced a while. Derek never said yes to what were, even from a distance and out of hearing range, obviously propositions. He favored lean, but muscular men. He preferred them a little taller than himself, a little younger but not too much. He all but ignored blonds and seemed to like it more if a guy had dark eyes. He danced with men off all colors, but would step closer to those with skin paler than his own librarian-like pallor.

Derek was talking to one now, leaning in close and smiling, but never once flashing the blue of his wolf eyes or flaring his nostrils. Stiles had wondered just how Derek’s wolf senses could take the noise and the smells and the constant contact with others, but he didn’t seem to notice them. The guy Derek was with was tall and lean and wearing very sexy glasses. He leaned back and laughed, stretching his neck in what would have been a blatant fuck-me-now statement if the guy knew he was talking to a wolf. Derek laughed back.

Stiles had to hear. He didn’t know what Derek was looking for in the crowds, but just watching was probably not going to get him any information he hadn’t already collected. He moved closer. He nodded and handed over cash as he was offered an overpriced and over fancy bottle of beer from an ice bucket carried between two burly waiters. One of them winked at him, and Stiles played the game and licked his lips back at the guy, then ducked to the side so the guy wouldn’t focus on him too much. It would be hard to explain how he’d morphed from surfer-dude to clean-cut, soon-to-be teacher to someone who wasn’t supernatural. It would be harder to explain if the guy was supernatural and Stiles was somehow violating some kind of Pack or Pod or Coven boundary line by being here.

The bucket of beer moving across the room made it easier for Stiles to end up a lot closer to Derek and his bespectacled friend. It took another ten or fifteen minutes before they were within listening range, but Stiles got there without finishing, or spilling, his beer.

“It’s a tempting offer, Spencer, believe me, but I’m not here to find a date or playmate or anything else.”

The guy, Spencer, ran his eyes up and down Derek’s face, then over his chest and down further before finally looking back up. His smile was real. “What’s his name, and how is not having fun with someone else going to help you get over him? Like I said, I’ve seen you a couple of times in the last week or two, and every time you’ve been dressed like you are out to score, hard.”

Stiles couldn’t tell in the club lights, but he’d bet a dozen cover-charges to this joint that Derek was blushing.

“He’s, he’s special, and I don’t really want to get over him. He’s just come back home after being away at college and I need to give him space.” Derek glanced out over the dance floor and gestured at the throng of men. “Clubs are a,” he searched for the word, “pungent distraction.”

Just back from college? Stiles’ heart flipped. It could be anyone from his high school class that had done a Master’s degree. It could be anyone a year or two younger who’d done a four-year stint.

Spencer just smiled a little wider. “I can understand saving yourself for a guy, I was there once myself. But how much space are you going to give him? None of us deserve to wait forever for something that might not happen.”

Derek had mellowed, a lot, in the last year or two, but it was hard to imagine him having this kind of discussion with someone inside the Pack. Unburdening to a stranger had its own appeals, certainly, and Derek was apparently happy to share.

“He’ll be starting a new job soon. He doesn’t need any other stress on top of that.”

Spencer nodded. “And what if he makes a move first? There has to be some kind of something between you or you wouldn’t be waiting at all. If he waltzed up to you right here, right now, would you let him make his own decision on whether he could take that stress? Would you kiss him back?”

Derek’s face went blank a moment, and then Stiles watched his chest rise and fall. “I might fall off my chair, but yeah, I’d let him make that call. And I’d kiss him back.” He turned and looked over the dance floor again. “I’d kiss him for days.”

Spencer looked up, straight at Stiles. The guy’s eyes filled to black, glowed silver for a few moments and then went back to dark brown and human looking again. Shit. Spencer spoke again, but it was in Stiles’ head.

Well, come and get him then, Spark. I can see your brain trying to figure me out, but don’t bother. I’m somewhere between what you call a vampire and an incubus. I feed on groups like the crowd in here, not single people. Derek here was just an interesting conversation while dinner went on around me.

Stiles blinked and, huh. He’d be looking it up anyway, but okay.

Come, turn off that trinket you have in your pocket and do what you want to do. The bond between you is already strong. Seal it with that kiss he just offered and feel how much stronger it becomes. I won’t enjoy it as much as you two will, but it will be a fine end to my meal.

Stiles reached down and touched the amulet and then let it drop back into his jeans’ pocket. Spencer, the whatever-he-was, smiled wider than looked quite natural, and stepped back. Derek turned back at the movement and then snapped his head around, nostrils flaring.

“Stiles?”

“Hey, big guy.”

♠

Glamor: [n] the quality of fascinating, alluring, or attracting, especially by a combination of charm and good looks;  magic or enchantment; spell; witchery

July CampNaNoWrimo - my prompt table and ‘rules’ are here.

[malfoygrass]

Hybrids and beauty queens

An: A little gift for my @my-light-into-the-darkness who recently became my follower #400, hope you like it! This was super fun to write

“So you’ll come to the party right?” Neville Longbottom smiled, his sweet expression so earnest Astoria could only nod with perky enthusiasm.

In this life there were cruel romantic ironies…and then there were messed up love hexagons.

None so much more than for Miss Godric Hollow twice in a row Astoria Greengrass. Especially since she lived in what some people might call a magnet town for supernatural trouble.

To put it simply Astoria adored Neville (Vampire brother #1), who liked Luna (Witch), who was in love with Harry(Vampire brother #2) , who was dating Ginny (Doppleganger) who actually swooned over Victor (Original Vampire) who only had eyes for Hermione (Witch) who was happily in a relationship with Ron (Human with resurrection stone) aka the only lucky person who’s love wasn’t unrequited.

Who loved Astoria? Absolutely nobody, because charming as her personality might be, sometimes even that wasn’t enough. She sighed slamming the door of her locker

“I see, still mooning over the the ripper, angel” A London accented voice said mockingly as Astoria turned to glare at one of the most handsome guys she’d ever known.

Okay so maybe there WAS someone who fancied her, sadly he was also a ego maniac bully with a crazy family and an obsession with vampire blood purity that wasn’t healthy, his name was Draco Malfoy, or as the vampire comunity called him: The original Hybrid.

“don’t you have junior death eaters to torment or something?, stay away from Neville” Astoria glared at the blond man blocking her way “he hasn’t done anything to you and fyi I don’t moon, I admire him…you know, from the distance” Astoria winced at how pathetic she sounded 

Neville Longbottom in Astoria’s eyes, could do no wrong and Draco knew it, it had been Neville who found Astoria the night she was turned, dirty and shivering after Pansy (Ginny’s Doppleganger) shoved a vial of vampire blood down her throat and killed her, Neville had been there to teach Astoria the ropes of vampirism, he’d promised her that she didn’t have to be a monster and taught her how to hunt animals and drink from blood bags. So yes, maybe Astoria had a tendency to sigh like a character in a romance novel whenever he so much as smiled at her.

Draco on the other hand hand seemed to exist with the sole purpose of proving murder was a solution to life’s every problem.

Doppleganger ex girlfriend spends five hundred years running away because she screwed you over one time?

Try to murder her. 

Can’t murder your cousins because they are also Original Vampires and the only family you have left?.

Dagger them for a few hundred years.

Feeling hungry?.

Murder some innocent passerby.

Feeling sad?

Murder a therapist.

Your witchy psycho aunt Bellatrix is back from the dead and wants revenge for the last time you had her violently burned at a stake?. 

Murder her again and this time scour the earth for a way to keep her dead.

Neville and Harry team up to help the newest doppelganger avoid being ritualistically drained of blood for your curse’s convenience?.

Threaten to murder one or two people they care about, that always keeps people in line right?.

Draco was nothing like sweet and brave Neville (And Astoria didn’t know why that made her feel at odds with her emotions) 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night heart'o mine” Draco chuckled “you know some days I wonder why you of all people are still in Godric Hollow, a smart baby vampire like you, why even your sister got out when she could” And Astoria had paid for it with her life.

Pansy Parkinson hadn’t liked the fact that Daphne had stabbed her in the back when Draco and the Malfoy extended family came to town, selling her out to the original Hybrid in exchange for the protection of Draco’s cousin Theodore, so the evil Doppleganger had kidnapped Astoria and damned her to be forever seventeen. 

“I’m not like you Draco, I can’t turn my back on Luna after everything she’s done for me, she’s my friend” Luna, who despite only being cassually acquainted with her, hadn’t judged Astoria’s vampirism and embraced her into the fold like an old friend, making her a daylight ring and nursing her back to health when she’d tried to kill herself multiple times by walking into the sunlight, Astoria paused and added “not on Neville either”

“Enphasis on Luna, she’s probably the only one in that group who cares about you and that’s the only reason she’s still alive, although your little friend keeps getting used for her seer powers and isn’t very good at picking friends you know, the Lovegood bloodline might be older than vampirism but even powerful witches have weaknesses….if Potter had any eyes in his head he’d know what an asset she is” Draco taunted belligerently “but of course she’s no match for the famous Doppleganger allure, a pity really that the hybrid ritual didn’t kill Ginny" 

"And there you go, I was wondering when murder threats would start to be trown around, it only took the great Draco Malfoy about five minutes ” Astoria shot back “whatever you think of Ginny she IS a good person, she tries really hard to be there for her family” she felt herself compelled to defend the redhead, if only because she liked Ginny’s brothers and they wouldn’t appreciate if Astoria subconsciously spurred Draco’s venomous fangs in her direction.

“Yes of course she is” Draco snorted giving her a look that was too amused for her tastes “be reasonable little treasure, admit that having someone as powerful as me around you makes your dull little life much more interesting than helping Lovegood with her witchery ever did" 

"Can you stop it with the endearments” Astoria snapped crossing her arms over her chest walking down the hallway to the school exit, he easily fell into step with her “I don’t understand why you like me so much! Seriously I’m not that big of a deal, go away, move on leave Luna’s friends alone" 

And by that she meant Neville…and maybe Harry when he wasn’t being a winny man child. Because Draco was right about one thing, other than Luna most of Astoria’s long time friends had moved away from Godric Hollow the moment too many people started becoming victims of ‘animal attacks’ only the ones who truly loved the town ever stayed. 

Draco grinned flashing her that devilish smirk that had probably been causing panties to drop since the fall of Rome "what’s there not to like, you’re a resilient little thing, clever, willfull, ambitious and beautiful, there’s a certain spark of light about you that’s quite disarming you know" 

And how do you respond when a vampire old enough to know himself really well says stuff like that around you? Astoria Greengrass was no fool but it didn’t mean that she was immune to Draco’s advances, any female faced with his single minded pursuit wouldn’t be. But life, even the undead type was a bit more complicated than that.

"you know Mister Malfoy sometimes you say the nicest things” Astoria laughed without an ounce of humor, shaking her head in dismay “that it almost makes me want to believe in you" 

"What’s stopping you? I could lay the world at your feet if only you will it”

“Common sense” the baby vampire replied after a moment “I guess I always thought I was better than the typical prom princess that falls for the bad guy yet here you are, one of the top three of the supernatural community" 

Draco raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on the obvious breakfast club reference, he understood where she was coming from, Draco hadn’t known Astoria in her human life but from what he’d been told she had been a sickly teenager always trapped in Daphne’s shadow. Draco knew Daphne Greengrass since long before making a move against the Doppleganger of Godric Hollow, she was a shrewed, icy blonde with razor sharp wits and an even worse tongue and it was hard to imagine how she was related to someone like Astoria, but Daphne evidently loved her sister.

Ironically Draco had met Astoria the night of the hybrid ritual, she had been wearing a bloddied prom dress, as part of the paltry reinforcements that were helping Luna Lovegood throw some very harmful potions in his direction, on seeing her, Draco’s first thought had been that when he killed her it would be a monumental waste of beauty and had Harry not goaded Draco into a fight, it might have been. 

"Pretty tiara” Draco laughed focusing his yellow eyes on her when the girl aimed a surprisingly strong pouch of verbain in Crabbe’s direction disturbing the candle formation holding Helga Hufflepuff’s grimoire “did the ball end early Cinder girl?" 

"No, but someone told me this party was to die for” the baby vampire snarled back ripping a strip of her voluminous velvet skirt to fight his cousin Tracy on better ground

By the time the battle ended and his curse was successfully removed thanks to a timely intervention of his cousin Blaise, Draco was ready to make it rain blood and the image of the girl with the ripped prom dress refused to leave his mind.

he later learned from Daphne that long before he had made his move against Ginny, Astoria had originally been intended as the human part of the hybrid sacrifice by Pansy, but she and professor Lupin had escaped their conditioning cells with Longbottom’s help and in return Pansy had to compell Ron in her place. But by then the golden trio had already returned Astoria to Daphne who was more than glad to stop being Pansy’s minion and become an informant for the Malfoys now that Draco wasn’t going to kill her sister. 

A fact that backfired dearly days later because Theodore himself hadn’t thought that Daphne’s sickly human sister required much protection and had given Pansy a perfect opening to hurt Daphne. Turning Astoria into a vampire under horrifying conditions.

But considering his first meeting of Astoria, he didn’t take her for the tragic case Daphne described, in fact all the story did was intrigue him more.

“we both know that’s not all you think you are, you’re more than the beauty pageant girl of a small town, everybody else might beleive you’re a walking cliche but I know the truth Astoria Greengrass" 

Astoria rolled her eyes laughing as she briskly skipped her way to the parking lot "you don’t know anything about me, so don’t even try to figure me out Mr I’m-so-much-better-vampire-than-Potter" 

"Oh But I do, I know more about you than you think, you’re a big fish in a small pond”

“And you’re the shark that awaits in the ocean" 

"Wonderful description little treasure, but I promise my bite is nicer than my bark" 

This brought a smile to her face, that she tried to hide "Argh you’re impossible!” She exclaimed crossing her arms over her her chest

“Impossible…to resist I hope" 

"Impossible to get away from” Astoria shot back

Draco made a thoughtful face “not exactly the love confession I expected but its a start, we both know that deep down you like me”

Astoria didn’t bother dignifying that with a response, getting into her car and heaving a sigh to her deity of choice when he got in the passenger seat looking like he had no intention of leaving until he got what he wanted.

Or got bored…which could take ages, since Draco Malfoy thought she was supremely interesting. 

“I don’t like you Draco, I mean just because you’re handsome and powerful and can ocassionally be nice to people doesn’t mean I’m attracted to you, like the rest of the females you meet” the baby vampire was really tryingto concentrate on the road but with him next to her it simply wasn’t happening “only an idiot would take you at face value and I’m not the swooning type" 

"Ah so you think that I’m handsome, the plot thickens” Draco smirked and Astoria tried to hide her blush

“Never said you weren’t” Astoria deadpanned determined to not let him fluster her, she was a Greengrass for pity’s sake! Where was her mettle? “ but that’s just fortunate genetics, not a reason to like you”

“Liar liar, dress on fire” Draco taunted flashing her his sharp canines

The truth was that Astoria WAS attracted to him, but he was a foul person and that made her feel awful about her judgment of character. That was the problem.

Astoria knew that girls like her were a dime a dozen in small towns, bright young things that wore pretty clothes, had smiley face posters in their bedrooms and gossiped with other carbon copies of themselves ( if it felt a bit plastic to live that way, she’d never bothered to do anything about it) in fact before she became a vampire she’d liked to tell herself that she was okay with the dollhouse like monotony of her entire existence, always being good, but not good enough to be outstanding, it was okay, not everyone got to be the heroine of a novel, sometimes being a face in the crowd had its own value.

But she’d been lying to herself and she realized it when she went back home after a crash course in vampirism with Luna and Neville. As a vampire Astoria could run, jump and enjoy sports witout bothering about allergies or human sickness, she could savour the beauty of a perfect vision and the strenght that her human self hadn’t even dreamed of having because of her bad metabolism. 

Astoria adored being a vampire, when before she’d been content to dabble in gardening and piano playing, now she could play volleyball and swim without having a heart attack, her ballet dancing improved in ways she’d only dreamed about because her limbs were now more sturdy.

Her new friends had taught her how to control the only downside of vampirism and in a way she felt that she owed them more than she could repay. So she helped them whenever she could.

Evil dopplegangers, crazy witches, house elves gone rogue, if Luna needed Astoria’s help she gave it.

And then Astoria met Draco Malfoy.

“Why are you here Draco?” She sighed knowing instinctively that he was here for a reason 

“Down to the point then, well my starlight truth be told: I came to say goodbye, I’m leaving tomorrow” he delivered it with his usual aplomb, words wonderfully executed that suckerpunched Astoria in the gut

“Godric Hollow? You’re actually…just leaving” Astoria gasped hitting the breaks of her car and pulling up at the nearest stop signal “why, when, where, how" 

"Well, rumor has it that an old foe of my family rose again with the help of dear Aunt Bellatrix and Wormtail, you might understand if I don’t want to stay here to see it” Draco comented dryly “London is my city and while Theodore and your sister have been gracious enough to hold fort for a while, some people need to be reminded of who is really in charge" 

"London?…so far” Astoria mumbled looking down at her hands 

“Very far, but I was hoping….” Draco hesitated

Astoria lifted her eyes “yes?" 

"You don’t belong in a small town” Draco said instead swallowing what he’d been about to say and looking straight ahead “I know you think you do, but you’re never going to be happy here, one day, years down the line, you’re going to be a glorious vampire if only you dare to stretch those wings and I want to be there to see it” he sighed and turned to her “but I can’t stay in Godric Hollow that long….I wonder if you can?”

“You’re asking me to leave the only home I’ve ever known" 

"I’m asking you to give me a chance to show you who I am, come with me" 

Professor Lupin once told her that becoming a vampire didn’t make you an entire different person, it just enhanced what was already there. And as a human Astoria had been a kind and sweet, musically inclined girl with a perchance for ballgowns and pageant crowns. but she’d always been ambitious, in school, at home, in her every action there was always a drive to be better, and no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise, ambition was part of Astoria’s less than cute qualities.

Astoria wanted…she wanted and wanted. What scared her about herself was simply that she didn’t like knowing to what extremes she’d be willing to go to satisfy those wants. (She wanted blood, she wanted clothes, she wanted to be prima ballerina, she wanted power…she wanted Draco)

She was sure Draco knew that he held in his hand the parts of her that she was scared of embracing. The side of her that was attracted to power and desperately wanted to have it, the dark wants, that whispered selfish things in her ears. 

"You really wont come back To Godric Hollow then” she said instead, avoiding giving him any answers.

“Oh I will, if you stay here, someday when you feel you’ve had enough of pretending to be mediocre, I’ll come back for you" 

"That’s not very reassuring” Astoria murmured shaking her head in disbelief 

“I’m not used to giving up on the things I want, even since before I was turned, I was an only child you see” Draco shrugged unapologetically “you’re special”

Yes Astoria knew the story as well as most vampires, Draco’s parents had once been part of the most powerful witch coven in Viking era, legend said that their coven had at least one member for each of the twenty eight purest witch lines in the old world and their leader had been a mad man obsessed with inmortality who just went by the name of 'Voldemort’. 

According to Theodore, Draco had been the apple of his parent’s eyes, much to the envy of his aunt Bellatrix, who couldn’t conceive children and was rumored to be 'trying’ to give the dark lord a heir. It was her who had infected Draco’s blood with the werewolf gene sometime between his birth and the ancient blood ritual that turned Draco’s cousins into the first vampires and it was Bellatrix again who willingly killed her own sister to seal Draco’s werewolf side, driven mad with spite after the first hybrid trasformation made Draco powerful enough to tear half of the coven apart.

To avenge himself and the awful wrong done to his cousins Draco had gone on a rampage that killed most of Voldemort’s acolytes and painted a target on the back of the Originals…or that’s how Theodore told the story anyway.

Harry and Neville painted him as a monster witout any redemption.

But Astoria knew Draco hadn’t always been the fearsome monster he was now, maybe that’s what always made her hesitate whenever he tried to charm her. Sometimes she felt like she knew parts of him that people didn’t see, yet she was scared because being attracted to him was dangerous. 

“I’m not special Draco, youre just not used to being told no, I’m just one girl in a thousand” Astoria deflected with a self depreciating smile “just another girl, in another town, hardly a drop in the ocean for a someone a billion years old, you wouldn’t have given me a second look if I’d lived in your era of birth”

“You say that but I lived trough the Renaissance ” Draco replied suddenly studying her face “Michelangelo used to look for girls with your face for the cherubs in the sistine chapel and Raphael would have fought him if only to inmortalize you as one of his maddonas"he continued reaching out with one hand and caressing the softness of her cheek "Queen Elizabeth poisoned herself for skin like yours and your waistline alone is something that would have made you a sought after bride in the Victorian era, those eyes would have kept men from war during the rise of the Reich and your legs driven lesser men insane in a speakeasy…yet here you are, the best of what a thousand years of beauty have to offer, daring to say you’re not special" 

Astoria blushed, for once becoming tongue tied under his gaze "you lie”

“If you had lived in my era, I would have ripped you from your sister’s loving arms and dragged you to my home without a word, I would have taken you and taken you again not resting until my child was in your belly and my name on your skin” Draco’s eyes darkened with sinful promise “make no mistake, I would have branded you as mine”  

The images his words evoked made Astoria shudder with pleasure, because she knew he spoke the truth, had she been born in his time, he would have had her and she would have damned herself willingly for him “Sometimes I catch myself wondering how you were before becoming a monster” Astoria admited in a soft voice “I wonder if it would have made any difference if we’d met as humans and done the normal things people falling in love do. I dont know of course, you’re Draco Malfoy killing legend extraordinare but I wish, sometimes, that I could forget that”

“I know” his voice carried a sadness that Astoria knew he wasn’t faking “but I can’t change my past, I can only offer you everything else in my present”

“Supernatural London isn’t a place for a girl like me" 

"But my side is” Draco’s face softened again taking her hand “all I ask for is one chance, you can go back if you don’t like it I wouldn’t keep you against your will” and then he delivered an that he knew would strike in her hidden weaknesses “think about it as being queen for a day, ask me for anything and its yours”

“Don’t say that…I might decide I want something obcenely rare, what would you do with me then?” She panicked trying to sound less breathless 

“I can afford to say it, I’m the original Hybrid ” Draco shrugged with false modesty that made her laugh 

Because a man like Draco would definitely give her anything she wanted witout a care of who got hurt in the process, he would snap his fingers and Astoria wouldn’t have to fantasize about Tiffany diamonds, she’d never be hungry or browse longingly trough the pages of a high fashion magazine, because he’d compel any desiger she wished to fill her wardrobe while he offered her the necs of presidents and royals to feed on. He would give her luxury with his lips and insist on showering her naked body with whichever gemstones caught her eye in a passing store.

Temptation was seductive when the Original Hybrid looked at her as tough she was the only girl in the world, beautiful grey eyes that could convince her that giving him her soul was only a small price for all the decadence he wanted to share with her.

“Draco I…"Astoria opened her mouth to say something meaningful but he interrupted her

"No, don’t reject my offer just yet” Draco said abruptly taking her hand again and bringing it to his lips “you don’t owe me an answer but a brief vacation in London won’t hurt you little treasure, all I ask is for you to think about it” and putting a train ticket in her lap he vamped away from her car, leaving Astoria more confused than ever.

That night the baby vampire couldn’t sleep, replaying over and over again the conversation she’d had with Draco. Knowing witout a doubt that if she’d said yes he wouldn’t have been satisfied with a few days in London.

But would it really hurt her to get to know him beyond what he had done in Godric Hollow? She knew he had good in him and if he left she’d never get a chance to explore that mysterious part of Draco, why not be brave for a change?. Daphne was already in London and yes she hated Draco by virtue of sisterly dissaproval, but too many times had Astoria let her family expectations dictate her life.

Maybe it was time to discover what her true self was made of.

Draco stood in the train station knowing she wouldn’t show, it was stupid to think Astoria Greengrass would leave the comfort of her family cottage and adoration of her highschool cliques for him, when Godric Hollow was everything she considered familiar, everything she knew how to control was in that town. Taking his offer would mean…

“I’ll come with you” Draco’s thoughts were interrupted by the sweetest sentence he’d ever heard, turning around he was greeted with the sight of Astoria as beautiful as ever holding a simple suitcase but smiling all the same “Draco, did you hear me? I said I’ll come with you to London" 

A smile that made Astoria’s heart skip a beat broke trough his face as he strode forward and spun her around in his arms "what are we waiting for then? The train is about to leave" 

"Wait don’t you want to hear why I’m coming?”

“Not particularly, you’re already here” he smirked down on her with a smug look “it means you are giving me a chance, that’s all I need to know” Draco pulled her in the direction of the private train compartment he’d hired and held his hand out to help her get inside

Astoria looked at his hand with a wry smile “No promises?” She asked curiously

“No promises” Draco lied opening his palm wider “trust me”

“I will” and with that Astoria took his hand, knowing for sure that her life as a vampire was about to change.

An: some people write Hogwarts aus, I write tvd aus out of Hogwarts characters

[wxtches-energies]

Roots of your craft 30 day challenge (All at once)

Divination. Does it work? Would you use it? What do you think of those who do? Why?

Divination does work, I use it for Tasseomancy and I’m learning other methods now. I think others who use it are a key element in witchcraft, they help advise us.

What do you think Magick actually is? What is the power or force behind witchcraft?

Magick is energy that flows through everything that the universe provides.

How powerful do you believe Magick to be, and why?

Magick is so very powerful if your intention is true to the soul.

What are your beliefs about ethics and morality?

I believe strongly in Karma. Good karma and bad karma. And my motto: literally just don’t be a dick.

Do you think practicing witchcraft will change your views? If so, how?

I’ve been practicing for. Few months now and it’s already helped my view on the earth, we have a beautiful little planet that needs kindness and peace and it provides us with all we need, good energies and sustainability .

Do you plan to be open about witchcraft to people you know? Why or why not?

My mom knows but none of my siblings do. As for friends, I don’t have any who would be okay to tell. But if I find a future friend who I trust, I’ll bring up the topic and see how they react.

What kind of belief system were you raised with? Do you feel it suits you, or are you making a change?

I was raised as a Christian but I don’t believe in religion personally, I believe in the universe.

What was your earliest memorable exposure to the concept of witchcraft? How did it influence your interest in it?

I wouldn’t say I knew it was witchcraft but looking back I can tell it was. I’m naturally very good with animals and way back when I was young I came face to face with a male elk with huge antlers and he was protecting the females who sit close by. I felt scared at first because I was only about 9 and I thought I was going to get hurt but I calmed down and made myself relax and spoke out “excuse me please” and the elk turned and walked away. It made me see that the universe is on my side since I’m very inclined to kindness and simply helping others and working on myself.

Do you think you will work with or worship deities as part of your Craft? Why or why not?

Maybe, but for now I don’t want to. Because I don’t feel inclined to.

Was there a tipping point that convinced you witchcraft was worth practicing? What influenced your desire to learn more and why are you learning about it?

Yes, I haven’t had any good luck all my life, and everything bad keeps happening to me and I’ve had nothing to rely on, so I decided to pursue my inner witch. It’s helped me a lot actually, I feel more connected to the earth.

What kind of witch do you want to become? What kind of witch do you believe you will become?

The kind that helps many people through their lives and teaches people how to start practicing on their own. I want to be kind and pure and do good for everyone.I think I will become exactly who I want to be.

What do you think your life will be like in five years, magically speaking?

I think I’ll be more advanced and wise. I’ll have more supplies for magic and probably will be running my own shop.

What worries you most about learning witchcraft? What might be a risk?

I don’t want to mess with the wrong energies or mess anything up. I especially don’t want to get on the bad side of some spirits.

What excites you most about learning witchcraft? What might be a reward?

I get to learn so much and gain so many good experiences that leave me with good vibes and good karma.

If you could list one thing that you hope to gain from practicing witchcraft, what would it be?

I hope to gain self peace and a sense of purpose.

Which of the four classical elements best describes you at the beginning of your journey? (Earth, Wind, Air, or Fire)

Earth, I’ve always been in love with nature and I feel so very connected to the earth.

If you’ve practiced spellcraft, what was the experience of casting your first spell like? If you’ve not yet cast one, what do you think your first spell will be and why?

My first one was a protection/peace spell when I felt paranoid. It worked really well and I became calm and I was able to sleep.

Are there any witches or magicians in fiction or history that you particularly admire? Why or why not?

I don’t know any, although I’m going to start doing a self learning of the history of witchcraft

If you were to think of your beginnings in witchcraft as a certain color, what color would it be and why?

A dull blue.. Blue is my favourite colour but since I was merely a baby witch, my power wasn’t as strong, thus the colour wasn’t either.

What are your general thoughts about newer magical traditions such as pop culture spells, and technowitchery?

I think it’s cool we’re mixing modern witchery with traditional, although I do wish that everyone respects each others paths so no chaos happens over what’s good and what’s bad to believe in.

What are your general thoughts about older magical traditions such as rune Magick, kabbalah and esoteric eastern traditions?

I don’t know anything about them but I’m sure they’re really interesting, I’d love to learn about them and apply some parts to my own practice.

Do you think that tradition is important in witchcraft? Why or why not?

Yes! So important! But it doesn’t need to be followed to the exactness. You can choose how you want to apply tradition to your own practice.

What role do you think dreams play in magical life, if any? Why or why not?

Dreams are very important depending on if you believe they influence your life. Personally I do. Dreams are a form of divination to me.

Are you more aligned with chaos or order in terms of the Magick you have or will practice? What do you think Magick itself is more aligned with?

I’m more aligned with order. I like to keep balance in the world and preferably stay towards the peaceful side. And I think magick itself likes the balance of good and evil too.

Curses. Do they work? Would you use them? What do you think of those who do? Why?

I think they work and I will only use them to defend myself. I respect those who use them often but I wish for them to keep peace and kindness in mind.

Blessings and protective Magick. Do they work? Would you use them? What do you think of those who do? Why?

Yes! They do. The universe just wants us to be safe. I use them a lot. And those who use them are thanked by me, we need protection from all.

Do you have an affinity with an animal or type of animal? What does it mean to you? If you don’t, but had to have one, what do you think it would be?

Its a typical animal of most but I admire wolves. They’re leaders and protectors but they can also fend for themselves but always do better in a pack. And to me , it’s very personal. I can lead and I can protect but I can be better on my own , but I also prefer the closest to me to be around me.

Do you think that there is any potential in utilizing certain ritual places or “ley-lines” between ritual places? Why or why not?

(I literally have no idea what this means 0.0)

What role does the archetype of death play in magic to you, if any? Why or why not?

(Again, no idea what this is, I have much to learn)

What do you think of practicing magic in a group setting? What about practicing alone? Why?

I would love to practice In a group , especially IRL as long as no one goes against anyone’s personal path, as a coven, we do coven things, but on our own, we do what we want and believe in. On your own is good as well, you can apply your own opinions and follow your heart without any disturbances.

[raph-fangirl]

A BEAST FROM FRANCE, A BELLE FROM AMERICA

~ crossover between Beauty and the Beast and Gone with the Wind ~

King Raphael is a hideous monster who must marry a young woman to break his beastly curse. Set during the 1860s, after the Civil War, a feisty southern belle named Scarlett travels to France and ends up with more than she bargained for. This is to be a sexy, bittersweet, romantic tale between two unlikely lovers: a beast from France and a belle from America (not for mature audiences).

Also available on Fanfiction.net and ArchiveofOurOwn.org

Chapter One

December Twenty-First Eighteen-Fifty-Five

Le Château du Vieux Duc - St. Augustin, France

What is it that makes a man? the prince wondered.

Was it the blood that rippled through his inconsistently beating heart? Was it his strong, willing hands that longed for a woman's touch? Or was it something more?

Who was he?

He was Prince Raphael Lésagero of France, firstborn of King René and Queen Severina. Yet, at that moment, he did not feel like a prince. The dull, lifeless being dragged himself back to the castle, where he could lay his weary head upon his mother's breast. She would comfort him.

Something had gone terribly awry during his visit to the village, although he could not put a finger on exactly what he had done. Only one week before, he had her in his arms, whispering softly in her ear that he loved more than anything in the entire world. All the wasted years of his youth and being attracted to women were false; he had never felt this kind of love. It was a true one. He knew it was. He wanted to bring her out of her poverty, make her his shining wife. Somehow it would all come together.

But his parents disagreed. She was his paramour, his lady of the night. She belonged to the streets and the muck of the village; she belonged to the brothels and the bars. It was not true love, they assured their son. King René forbade him ever to go back to the brothel again, dressed falsely as a commoner. Guards blocked each portion of the castle through which he could escape. Yet, somehow, the prince still managed to slip through a hidden passageway and into the woods on nights when he yearned for his beloved once more.prince still managed to slip through a hidden passageway and into the woods on nights when he yearned for his beloved once more.

However, that night, on none other than his eighteenth birthday, she was not there. The moment he walked into the scene, the bartender recognized him, as he was a frequent visitor.

"Sorry, friend," he called, pulling a rag through a musty dish. "Naeva left this town earlier today. She did leave you a note though."

Delilah de Beauvoir's Mansion - Savannah, Georgia

A young girl sat in the parlor of her aunt's mansion. She obtained bright blue eyes, with a rim of dark velvety navy encircling it. Her blonde curls trailed down her back, but they were beginning to turn darker. Her Aunt Delilah expected her locks to be completely brown by the time she reached adolescence.

It was her first Christmas without her parents.

Staring at the floor with anguish in her heart, Scarlett Elaine McCullough, only seven, hummed quietly to herself. It was one of the songs from the *Cumberland Gap her father had taught her.

Her mother had perished, but for what reason the girl was unaware. Her father disappeared soon after, and her aunt took her in. Scarlett despised her parents, always griping about being a lady and expecting her to become one. She only longed for the bright hues of the morning sun to lift her away, for the branches of the trees to pick her up and allow her to bask in the silky luminescence.

"Evening, Scarlett."

The girl recognized her aunt's false Savannah accent and husky, almost masculine, voice. She continued to stare at the floor, clutching her dress.

"Aww—now don't be that way! Why don't you play with the other children? You haven't even opened your presents from Ella Mae and Ora yet."

"I don't like either a them *peckerwoods," she spoke spitefully.a them *peckerwoods," she spoke spitefully.

"That's all you ever talk about, who or what you don't like. It's about time you started up with something you do like. And do please use precise language, dear. Enough with the mountain talk."

"I like my home."

Suddenly, a hush fell over the two. The aunt and the niece lounged on one of the settees the room had to offer, glaring at the Christmas tree in the other room. Scarlett had lived in the hills and valleys of Northwest Georgia, miles and miles from the coast of Southeast Georgia, where Savannah was. But now she would never live there again. She would be with her aunt until she found a husband, and then she would live wherever he desired. Never again would she be under the comfort of her own roof, sleeping in the same room she had slept in ever since she was a babe.babe.

"I tell you what, Scarlett," her aunt spoke, taking the young girl's soft, milky white hands in hers. "You, me, and Virgil will visit your old plantation once your grandparents decide what they want to do with it. How's that?"

The girl smiled.

Le Château du Vieux Duc - St. Augustin, France

Crammed into the concise, penetrating letter was Raphael's soul.

He read the white parchment countless times, eventually desiring to rip it to shreds. He had taught Naeva to write; when they first met, she barely knew how to spell any French words at all. As he noticed the usual spelling mistakes she made, he wanted to shout, to spin around and correct her. But she was not there.

It only comprised two or three sentences. The prince read the last word over and over, feeling as though if he took his eyes off it for even a second, another word might appear and fall off the page. There had to be more. After all they had been through, she could not have only left him with this.

Had she ever genuinely loved him? Now that he thought about it, it made sense. Multiple times Naeva told him she was preparing him for a wife, and he believed she was only toying. He would propose to her, and she would be his. All the times she ever had seemed distant to him, all the times he had said, "I love you," and she had not. Was it all leading up to something?

They were supposed to be celebrating together for his eighteenth birthday. As this final moment of pain shot through his soul, his eyes suddenly seemed to widen; he began to feel a tingling in his ears.

Was it the snow? Was the horrific cold playing tricks with him? No, it could not have been. He had just exited the carriage and was now walking through the entrance of the castle.

Then, a sickness. His insides twisted and ripped apart. His fleshy interior segregated and rebuilt itself. He felt his muscles contract and then come together once more. A newfound strength came upon him. Suddenly he felt as if he could take on the world. And then the fatigue again. His skeleton broke in half; all of his bones split and formed back together in a new shape. He screeched in agony, the scream reverberating through the desolate forest. No one could hear his cries. He banged his fists on the ground, pleading with God to let him live. The prince obtained a whole new form. His contorted body, specifically his chest, was sufficiently larger than it had been before.

Instantaneously, the contortions and bendings stopped. Again, his ears tingled, more than before. He reached a hand up to the side of his face and felt pricklings of hair rising. Suddenly, the world became darker; vision was becoming elusive. The castle he could no longer perceive. The hairs grew in new places, now biting his neck and traveling down his spine. It felt as though rocks were being thrown at him, as though thousands of people were stoning him with small pebbles. The sharp edges of the blades tore at his skin, opening his flesh only to allow more auburn-tinted strands to grow. The molding traversed to his pelvis and thighs. He screamed until he tasted blood in his mouth. He raised one of his enlarged fingers up to touch his gums as they bled. Daggers were sticking out of his mouth, piercing his lips.

No, not daggers. Fangs. No, not hair. Fur.

The prince gasped until, once more, an ultimate moment of anguish overcame him. He turned over onto his back, clothing ripping and shredding as his body enlarged. The blood trickled down from out of his mouth and onto his new coat of fur, absorbing into the deep brown tints. Final preparations and decor issued from his skin. His face widened, and a shooting pain shocked his skull. He felt something long and sharp break through his flesh on the top of his head and protrude out. He squealed until the noise changed into a beastly roar. A deep, savage-like tone emitted from his vocal chords. He felt his larynx drop and his throat catch fire as it shifted from a man's to a monster's.

Raphael thought he saw the blurred figure of a man running after him from the castle, the droplets of snow encasing whoever it was. He became a silhouette and disappeared from vision eventually. The prince closed his eyes and wished he would die, sinking faster and faster with each passing second into the pile of snow. The trees encased the monster in their black hands and held him.

What is it that makes a monster? the prince wondered.

Was it the blood that rippled through its inconsistently beating heart? Was it its strong, willing paws that longed for a woman's touch? Or was it something more?

What was he?

*Cumberland Gap – (also known as the Appalachian Mountains) Mountain range on the eastern side of America, stretching from Maine to Georgia. A place of Scots-Irish, natural beauty, various cultures and immigrants, tales of witchery and mysterious creatures, poor, uneducated people; a hard life indeed in these mountains.

*Peckerwood - Appalachian slang for someone you don't like (not to be confused with "Woodpecker")

[kbrown78]

My Thoughts: Truthwitch by Susan Dennard

Oh where do I begin with this book. It's only the first book in the series, and there is already a 90% chance that I will not continue with this series. I started it last year, and got 10 chapters in before I had to put it down. I finally went back and finished it so I could do a full review, but I still hated this book. It was so disappointing. I thought it would be about solid female friendships, intricate worlds, cool magic systems, and some good romance, and it was none of those. The friendship was usually framed as all about one of the girls, the world building and no context to it, and the romance was so contrived and annoying. In fact I hated so much of this that I won't be putting in a dislike section because the entire thing will be a dislike section.  

World building: So this is a vast world with a lot of history, but any information the readers get is in infodump form without any context, so it's very confusing. There's this truce that stopped the Great War, but we don't learn anything about either, other than the war devastated Merik's homeland. There's trouble brewing in the North that is only briefly mentioned, and small tid bits like Threadstones and Painstones from the Nomatsi tribe. There's also the development of the 6 different types of witchery and the different sub categories within these 6. I've heard that this was designed in a similar way to Benders in Avatar the Last Airbender, and I could see the influences. There also magic zombies called the Cleaved, which is kind of cool. There were some interesting points but there was so little backstory and context that this world ultimatly left me confused.  

Characters: This book has 4 different POVs, Safi and Iseult, who are best friends, Merik, a prince, and Aeduen, a bloodwitch. So let's starts with Safi, she was probably my least favorite character but this book revolved around her so I got to see way more of her than I wanted to. She's a very stereotypical YA heroine: very brash, acts more thinking, has a privileged background but doesn't want it. She was just a brat that everyone wanted because she was a Truthwitch. She does grow at the end, realizing her true power is how she wields her witchery and choices and that she can't always rush into things, but the book focused on how much of badass she is that I just couldn't stand her. Next, Iseult. I wanted to like Iseult, but she was very underdeveloped. Everyone but Safi dislikes her, and she is under the impression that her own mother ostracizes her, which means she has very little self confidence. She wants to go anywhere where she isn't hated. She is quiet, the thinker of the group, and she has a stutter. I was hoping that her and Iseult would stay seperated so that she could develop on her own, but that didn't happen, and she spends the next third of the book being sick and communicating with the Puppeteer. She basically felt like the punching bag for the entire story. I liked Merik, at first. He was short tempered, didn't hide his opinions (which he made obvious in his first scene), and cared about his country and crew. But as soon he was shoved into the hate to love possibility with Safi, I wasn't as interested in him. Then when Safi and Iseult are on his ship, and Iseult is dying, Merik starts treating them like crap and gives no regard for them other then they are a necessary nuisance. After that I had no investment in his character, and even seeing how people revel him at Noden's Gift didn't redeem him for me. Also, with both males, although you see it more with Merik than Aeduen, they have daddy issues, and that killed their characters. Lastly there's Aeduen. Similar to Iseult, Aeduen was underdeveloped, but what development he did get made him look like a shady person that does everything for one of two reasons: money or pleasing his father. There were other side characters that could have stood out more if they were more developed. So in general, I really disliked the characters.  

Relationships: The fucking Insta Love!!! Safi and Merik meet, yell at each other and it is blatantly obvious that this is going to be a hate to love relationship. Merik and Safi meet again that same night, dance to a lovers dance from Merik's homeland, and later on that same night Merik has to take Safi to saftey on his ship. From there it's just contrived drama with the two of them always arguing and not even trying to communicate. Iseult notes that the threads connecting them can't be distinguished as hate or love. This all takes place over a matter of days. Also on the ship, Merik is lusting for Safi, thinking she needs to keep her legs covered because that is too much for him. What?! I hate Insta Love and I don't like hate to love ships, and combining those 2 makes the ship one I cannot support, at all. Merik and Safi were at their best together when they were talking about how much the care about each other's Threadfamilies, that was the only time I was okay with them as a couple. Aeduan and Iseult I liked better because it's not clear where this could go, but they are bonded in some sort of way (their witcheries don't work on the other and he knows her native language). Unfortunately, Iseult is the least developed character and I don't like Aeduan. As for Safi and Iseult's friendship, which was supposed to be the most important feature of the book, was framed as being really all about Safi. When Safi and Iseult were first seperated by one of their mentors, the guy pulled Iseult aside and made it sound like they only tolerated Iseult because they hoped she would improve Safi's temperament. And Safi and Iseult felt very codependent. Merik and his sisters hate each other, but I think that animosity is created because they refuse to talk or compromise and want to be their father's favorite, and side note Merik is an ass to his aunt who's trying to help Safi and Iseult. The only sure fire good thing about Merik is his friendship with Kullen.    

Writing: There were so many issues I had with the writing in this book. One, the opening scene with Safi and Iseult being in peril. The pace was way too fast and I didn't care about what happened to either of the girls. This also sets up my other issue. Bloodwitches are supposed to be these mysterious figures from stories, and Aeduen immediately being introduced as a Bloodwitch contradicted that piece of story telling and I wanted Aeduen to be developed and then revealed as a Bloodwitch. There were several plot points that were just randomly dropped in, usually way to early, and that made the pacing of this book feel very jarring, jumping between being too fast to dragging. Also there was no context as too why everyone hated Nomatsi people so much. Like I get that there is prejudice there and it was hinted at that it might be because they conceal their feelings, but the level of hatred that was on display needs a sound explanation as to where that hatred stems from. Maybe it was just another way of destroying Iseult’s self confidence, which is stupid. The representation in this book was good but that isn't enough to carry the book, especially since I hated so many of the main characters.  

Final Thoughts: I should have written this review right after I finished the book. I have 2 pages of notes, but I just don't care. All I have is this lingering feeling of extreme dislike and that I absolutely will not be reading the rest of the books.