#but I read the blurb again recently and it seems like it has potential. idk :/

[drusilla-carstairs]

should I read Sword Catcher?

[youlovemeade]

Witchlands: Modern AU!

Hey!! So @whydoyoucareaboutmyusername made these awesome aesthetics and press blurbs for a Witchlands Modern AU, and I used those (with their blessing!) as a jumping off point for what will hopefully be a multi-chapter fic of idk how many chapters. I’ll probably post one per week so I can still do drabbles throughout the week too. No promises, though, because I’m not the best with consistency and as with all the writing I do, even that which is wholly my own, I start strong and fade fast and never finish... 

You can see the awesome aesthetics/press blurbs here:

Safi x Merik

Iseult x Aeduan

Ryber x Kullen

Vivia x Stix

I quoted some of the things in the Safik and Baeseult posts in my fic below. They’re really cool so I would definitely check them all out, like them and reblog them!!

People who asked for tags if I wrote this: @morebooks-pls @inopinion

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Susan Dennard, and the ideas came from @whydoyoucareaboutmyusername

Word Count: 1260

Rating: PG-13 for language.

Trigger Warnings: Reference to potential forced marriage. (Let me know if there are others I should add and I will do so immediately!!)

The magazine made a harsh slapping sound as it hit the coffee table. As soon as it was down, Safi changed her mind and picked it back up, tearing it open to the offending page and reading the article for the hundredth time.

Iseult didn’t quite sigh from her place on Safi’s sofa, but Safi could so easily feel the exasperation radiating off of her that she might as well have. Still, Safi said, “Found people my age to date?” Her grip on the magazine tightened until it rippled under her fingers. “As if I found Henrick. As if I sought him out, and now I finally came to my senses and found someone appropriate. And what is this ‘too close to be innocent’ bullshit?”

“Boys will be boys and old men will be old men,” Iseult replied, her voice monotone as always. “All of this was obviously out of Henrick’s control and you were at fault for enabling him.”

Safi didn’t respond to that, though, as she was already past Henrick and onto Merik. She turned the magazine so Iseult could see, folding one half behind the other to narrow the focus. “Look at this picture they put in here, Iseult.” She tapped her index finger furiously against the photo of her and Merik leaving the art exhibit opening, hand-in-hand. The tabloid had blown up their hands into a separate circle from the main photo. “Look!”

Iseult looked, quite dutifully, even though Safi had made her look thrice already, before meeting her friend’s eyes. “You slut.”

Safi groaned loud enough to shake her penthouse and threw the magazine behind her. It made quite a bit of noise as it fell through the air, but she didn’t bother to see where it landed. She just flopped down onto the couch to let her groaning continue.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Iseult said, her head tilted so she could see around Safi, as she apparently did want to see where the magazine ended up. “It seems like your plan is working.”

“We don’t know that,” Safi countered. “And we won’t know until I get a call from uncle Eron.”

“You say, as if he’s looked up from the bottle long enough to notice that you’ve done anything.”

Safi groaned again and tried not to let the truth feel like a hit. Iseult was right, of course, but it still pained her to think about her uncle, his drinking problem, and how easily messing up her entire life came to him when he was inebriated.

“Why did I do this, again?” Safi asked.

“I don’t know. You made the decision without me.”

“It’s an utterly stupid idea that puts me in utterly unbearable situations.”

“Again, your idea.”

“And Merik Nihar? I mean, honestly. Of all the people in New York - Merik Nihar.”

“Completely your choice.”

“His palm was sweaty.”

“Seems fake.”

Safi sniffed at that, indignantly. “Well. His tie was crooked.”

“That’s true,” Iseult replied, a ghost of a smile on her face that made Safi smile, too, despite everything. Her friend let the silence be for a minute before continuing. “I get it. It’s annoying. But this is what you want. Henrick hasn’t made the official engagement announcement, and now his team will hold off because of the publicity you have with Merik. They’ll tell Eron to get you under control and will wait until your press has calmed down to announce, and you, of course, won’t get under control and instead will make an announcement of your own: you’re Merik Nihar’s girlfriend. It will work.”

Safi found herself nodding halfway through, but her stomach still twisted with a sense of wrongness. She couldn’t relax, because something in her gut was screaming at her that this would go sideways, because all her plans always went sideways.

But Iseult’s didn’t, and Iseult was right in front of her telling her that it would be okay. So it would be okay.

“When?” she asked. “When do you think will be a good time to make that announcement?”

“Ryber and Kullen’s wedding? It’s just a few weeks away, and though they wish they could completely avoid the press, we know they won’t be able to. If you can post something to Instagram and draw the attention away from them...”

“Yeah,” Safi replied, and she nodded for good measure. “Yeah. I’ll ask Ryber.”

Iseult nodded, too, and Safi relaxed enough to reach down and start to undo the buckle that trapped her foot in her way-too-painful heels. When Iseult didn’t reach down to remove her own shoes - sensible tennis shoes, because Iseult was always sensible - Safi paused. “You’re not staying,” she said. It was a statement more than a question, because Safi was already sure of the answer.

“I’m not. I have an appointment.”

“To do what…?”

Iseult’s nose wiggled, just a bit, nostrils flaring, and Safi knew that she didn’t appreciate this line of questioning - which only convinced Safi to stay on it. “I’m meeting with Aeduan.”

Safi blinked at her. Once. Twice. Then she made quick work of sliding off her first shoe and unbuckling and sliding off the second, before throwing the upper half of her body over the couch in what she was sure was an inelegant sight. “You know,” she said, her hand clasping the previously abandoned magazine. “I was not the only one featured in this magazine.” She grunted as she pushed herself up from over the back of the couch and turned to face her friend again. She ripped the magazine back open and turned it back to Iseult, her finger this time furiously tapping a footnote below a picture of Iseult and Aeduan talking by a painting in the exhibit. “Are their recent meet-ups for dinners and at galas with their friends just casual?” She quoted. “Or is something else cooking?”

“If something else was cooking,” Iseult replied, cool as ever. “You would know.”

“Why don’t I know whatever is actually happening, even if you’re not whipping up a meal?”

Iseult didn’t have an immediate answer to that, which made Safi frown. She didn’t say anything more, though, because she wouldn’t squeeze the answer out of her friend. Even if she wanted to.

“He asked for my help,” Iseult said, slowly, in that way she always did when she was choosing her words carefully. Safi knew it to be a lingering habit from when she had to work to get over her stutter. “I’m helping.”

Safi held herself back from releasing a breath that would have sounded way too disappointed. “Is he okay?” Iseult nodded. “Fine, then. But if you or he need my help too…”

“I’ll ask,” Iseult reassured her. “Always. I know I can ask.”

Safi returned her nod, and then finally let out her breath in the form of an overly dramatic sigh. She let herself fully lay down on her couch, in a movement that could only be described as a flop. “You may leave, I suppose.”

Iseult’s reply to that was a pillow in Safi’s face, which had Safi laughing instantly. She kept the pillow where it was, letting its weight against her eyelids act as a comfort that would lull her into an afternoon nap.

“I am taking this magazine with me,” Iseult said, and Safi heard its pages flutter against each other as she picked it up. “And recycling it. Don’t overthink things.”

“That’s funny, coming from you.”

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

“Goodbye, Iz.”

Safi could hear Iseult’s smile even though she couldn’t see it. “Bye.”