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greenwitchcrafts · 3 months ago

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February 2025 Witch Guide

New Moon: February 27th

First Quarter: Feb 5th

Full moon: February 12th

Last Quarter: February 20th

Sabbats: Imbolc- February 1st

February Ice Moon

Also known as: Cleansing Moon, Deep Snow Moon(Mahican), Eagle Moon(Cree), Bear Moon(Ojibwe), Black Bear Moon(Tlingit), Bony Moon(Cherokee), First Flowers Moon(Catawba), Goose Moon(Haida), Groundhog Moon(Algonquin), Hungry Moon(Cherokee), Ice Moon, Midwinter Moon(Oneida), Raccoon Moon(Dakota), Sleet Moon(Comanche), Solmonath, Suckerfish Moon (Ojibwe) & Quickening Moon

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Aquarius & Pisces

Nature spirts: House Faeries

Deities: Aphrodite, Brigid, Demeter, Diana, Juno, Kuan-Yin, Mars & Persephone

Animals: Otter

Magical: Unicorn

Birds: Chickadee & Eagle

Trees: Cedar, laurel, myrtle & rowan

Herbs: Balm of Gilead, hyssop, myrrh, sage & spikenard

Flowers: Primrose

Scents: Heliotrope & wisteria

Stones: Amethyst, jasper, moonstone, obsidian, onyx, pearl, rose quartz, red zircon &topaz

Issues, intentions & powers: Astral travel, banishing, beginnings, empowerment, fertility & purification

Energy: Breaking bad habits, creative expressiveness, energy working to the surface, forgiveness, freedom, friendships, future plans, growth, healing, problem solving, purification, responsibility & science

The explanation behind February’s full Moon name is commonly known as the Snow Moon. This is due to the typically heavy snowfall that occurs in February. On average depending on location & climate conditions, February can be one of the snowiest months of the year according to data from the National Weather Service.

• In the 1760s, Captain Jonathan Carver, who had visited with the Naudowessie (Dakota), wrote that the name used for this period was the Snow Moon, “because more snow commonly falls during this month than any other in the winter.”

Imbolc

Known as: Brigid’s day, Feast of Torches, Feast of Waxing Light & Oimelc

Season: Winter

Element: Air

Symbols: Besoms, Brigid’s cross, candles, candle wheels, corn dolls, cauldrons, fire, ploughs, priapic wands & white flowers

Colors: Black, brown, green, lavender, orange, pink, red, white & yellow

Oils/Incense: Apricot, basil, bay, carnation, chamomile, cedar, cinnamon, dragon's blood, frankincense, heather, jasmine, myrrh, neroli, peppermint, red sandalwood, sage(green), styrax, vanilla, violet & wisteria

Animals: Badger, cow, deer, groundhog, sheep & snake

Birds: Lark, robin & swan

Stones: Amethyst, bloodstone, ×citrine, clear quartz, garnet, green tourmaline, hematite, iron, lodestone, onyx, red zircon, rose quartz, ruby, turquoise & yellow tourmaline

Mythical: Dragon

Food: Ale, breads, chives, cider, cornmeal, curry, dairy products, dried fruit, dried meats, eggs, garlic, grains, herbal teas, honey cakes, lamb, mead, muffins, nuts, onions, peppers, poppy seed cakes, pork, potatoes, poultry, pumpkin seeds, raisins, scones, spiced wine & sunflower seeds

Herbs/Plants: Angelica, ashleaf, balsam, basil, bay, benzoin, blackberry, celandine, clover, coltsfoot, coriander, dragon's blood, garlic, lemon, myrrh, reed, rosemary, sage, vervain, wheat, witch hazel & wormwood

Flowers: Chamomile, crocus, daffodil, heather, iris, rose hips, sunflower, tansy & violet

Trees: Blackthorn, cedar, rowan & sycamore

Goddesses: Anu, Aradia, Arianrhod, Artio, Athena, Branwen, Brigid, Danu, Februa, Gaia, Inanna, Juno, Selene, Selu, Sirona & Vesta

Gods: Aengus Mac Og, Bragi, Cupid, Dian Cecht, Dumuzi, Eros, Februus & Pax

Tarot cards: Death, The Empress & The Star

Spellwork: Air magick, cleansing, divination, fertility & new beginnings

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Awakening, animals, banishing, beginnings, change, fertility, healing, hope, illumination, inspiration, light, patience, pregnancy/childbirth, prophecy, prosperity, purification, transformation, well-being & youth

Activities:

•Make & light white candles

• Clean/decorate your altar & consecrate your altar tools

• Go on a walk in nature & look for signs of spring

• Make a Brigid’s Cross

• Have a feast with your family/friends

• Give thanks & leave offerings to the Earth

• Set intentions, reflect & look deeper into your goals for spring

• Start a bonfire

• Bless new projects

• Clear snow/ice from public walkways

• Gather & distribute warm clothes, hand warmers & blankets to those who need it

• Pepare plans for your upcoming garden

• Craft a priapic wand

• Spend time with children celebrating Imbolc by making crafts & or baking

• Make or buy new magical tools

• Practice divination & fire scrying

• Draw a cleansing ritual bath for yourself

• Meditate, reflect & say your farewells to winter

• Cleanse & clean your house to prepare for spring

• Create a Brídeóg: a doll of Brigid made of straw

• Make Bride’s bouquet satchets & exchange as symbols of good luck and fertility

• Set aside seasonal food & or drinks as an offering to Brigid to invite her in your home

• Find Imboloc prayers & devotionals that bid farewell to the winter months & honor the goddess Brigid

Imbolc is a Gaelic festival marking the beginning of spring. Most commonly it is held on January 31 – February 1, or halfway between the winter solstice & the spring equinox. The holiday is a festival of the hearth, home, a celebration of the lengthening days & the early signs of spring.

• It is suggested that Imbolc originally marked the onset of the arrival of fresh sheep milk after a period of food shortage & the beginning of preparations for the spring sowing.

The word “imbolc” means “in the belly” and refers to the pregnancy of ewes at this time of year. The term “oimelc” means ewe’s milk. Around this time of year, many herd animals give birth to their first offspring of the year or are heavily pregnant & as a result, they are producing milk.

Imbolc is mentioned in some of the earliest Irish literature and it is associated with important events in Irish mythology. It is believed that Imbolc was originally a pagan festival associated with the lambing season and the goddess Brigid. It's believed that Imbolc was Christianized as a festival of Saint Brigid, who herself is thought to also be a Christianization of the goddess.

• Joseph Vendryes and Christian-Joseph Guyonvarc'h suggested that it may have also been a purification festival, similar to the ancient Roman festival Lupercalia which took place at the same time of year.

Some scholars argue that the date of Imbolc was significant in Ireland since the Neolithic. A few passage tombs in Ireland are aligned with the sunrise around the times of Imbolc & Samhain.

Related festivals:

•Groundhog Day: February 2nd-

Is a tradition observed in the United States & Canada every year. It derives from the Pennsylvania Dutch superstition that if a groundhog emerges from its burrow on this day & sees its shadow, it will retreat to its den & winter will go on for six more weeks; if it does not see its shadow, spring will arrive early.

• While the tradition remains popular in the 21st century, studies have found no consistent association between a groundhog seeing its shadow & the subsequent arrival time of spring-like weather.

•St. Brigid’s Day: February 1st-

Celebrates the beginning of spring and the celebration of Lá Fhéile Bríde, St Brigid’s Day. The day has long symbolised hope, renewal and the feminine.

•Because Saint Brigid has been theorised as linked to the goddess Brigid, some associate the festival of Imbolc with the goddess.

St. Brigid is the patroness saint (or ‘mother saint’) of Ireland. She is patroness of many things, including poetry, learning, healing, protection, blacksmithing, livestock & dairy production. In her honour, a perpetual fire was kept burning at Kildare for centuries & a recent campaign successfully established her feast day as a national holiday in 2023.

The customs of St Brigid's Day did not begin to be recorded in detail until the early modern era. In recent centuries, its traditions have included weaving Brigid's crosses, hung over doors and windows to protect against fire, illness, and evil spirits. People also made a doll of Brigid (a Brídeóg), which was paraded around the community by girls, sometimes accompanied by 'strawboys'. Brigid was said to visit one's home on St Brigid's Eve. To receive her blessings, people would make a bed for Brigid, leave her food and drink, and set items of clothing outside for her to bless. Holy wells would be visited, a special meal would be had, and the day was traditionally linked with weather lore.

• Candlemas: February 2nd-

Is a Christian feast day on February 2nd commemorating the presentation of Jesus at the Temple. It is based upon the account of the presentation of Jesus in Luke 2:22-40.

•While it is customary for Christians in some countries to remove their Christmas decorations on Twelfth Night, those in other Christian countries historically remove them after Candlemas.

On Candlemas, many Christians also take their candles to their local church, where they are blessed and then used for the rest of the year. For Christians, these blessed candles serve as a symbol of Jesus Christ, who is referred to as the Light of the World.

•Setsubun: February 2nd-

Is the day before the beginning of spring in the old calendar in Japan. The name literally means 'seasonal division’, referring to the day just before the first day of spring.

Both Setsubun & Risshun are celebrated yearly as part of the Spring Festival (Haru matsuri ) in Japan. In its association with the Lunar New Year, Setsubun, though not the official New Year, was thought of as similar in its ritual & cultural associations of 'cleansing’ the previous year as the beginning of the new season of spring. Setsubun was accompanied by a number of rituals & traditions held at various levels to drive away the previous year’s bad fortunes & evil spirits for the year to come.

• The commonly practiced tradition of throwing of roasted soybeans (called "fukumame") in order to drive away evil spirits & bring good fortune into one's home is upheld by both places of worship & regular people. Then, as part of bringing luck in, it is customary to eat roasted soybeans, one for each year of one's life (kazoedoshi), plus one more for bringing good luck for the year.

Other celebrations:

• Lupercalia: February 13-15th-

In ancient Rome, this festival was conducted annually on February 13th through 15th under the superintendence of a corporation of priests called Luperci. The origins of the festival are obscure, although the likely derivation of its name from lupus (Latin: “wolf”) has variously suggested connection with an ancient deity who protected herds from wolves & with the legendary she-wolf who nursed Romulus & Remus. As a fertility rite, the festival is also associated with the god Faunus to purify the city, promoting health & fertility.

Each Lupercalia began with the sacrifice by the Luperci of goats & a dog, after which two of the Luperci were led to the altar, their foreheads were touched with a bloody knife & the blood was wiped off with wool dipped in milk; the ritual required that the two young men laugh. The sacrificial feast followed, after which the Luperci cut thongs from the skins of the sacrificial animals & ran in two bands around the Palatine hill, striking with the thongs at any woman who came near them. A blow from the thong was supposed to render a woman fertile.

In 494 CE the Christian church under Pope Gelasius I forbade participation in the festival. Tradition holds that he appropriated the form of the rite as the Feast of the Purification (Candlemas), celebrated on February 2, but it is likely that the Christian feast was established in the previous century. It has also been alternately suggested that Pope Gelasius I replaced Lupercalia with St. Valentine’s Day, celebrated on February 14th, but the origin of that holiday was likely much later.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

Encyclopedia Britannica

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2025 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

Llewellyn's Sabbat Essentials: Imbolc

Note:

This guide was written with Moon phases and dates corresponding to North America. These guides are supposed to be a generalized stepping off point to do your own research & help celebrate the way you feel called to.

•THIS IS CONDENSED INFORMATION AND SPECIFICS MAY NOT BE MENTIONED

This isn't based off what I do personally & I'm by no way suggesting people celebrate a certain way. It's stuff I've read & put together from books so people of different traditions & practices can get an idea of what to do for the sabbat, months or research for themselves.

Note that for Native American names, each Moon name was traditionally applied to the entire lunar month in which it occurred, the month starting either with the new Moon or full Moon. Also the name of the lunar month might vary each year or between bands or other groups within the same nation.

Some names listed here may reflect usage at once in history but may no longer be used by a designated group today. Many of the names listed here are English interpretations of the words used in Native American languages. They are only roughly aligned here with the months of the Gregorian calendar; you’ll notice that some names are repeated in multiple months.

The ones listed are the ones that were used in the books I used for correspondences & there are many more that are not mentioned.

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littlemissmentallyunstable · 18 days ago

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title: the future pink walls

pairing: aaron warner x reader

synopsis: you desperately try to convince your moody husband to spruce up his dull room decor but it turns into something much more exciting…

warnings: implication of making love

a/n: the reader character was meant to be a bit lorelai gilmore-esque sooo I’m hoping you guys can see that and as more aaron warner has been heavily requested I had to oblige 🤭🤭

taglist: @wish-i-were-heather @midiosaamor @fleuriosa @maybxlle @whatsamongus @elysianwayy77 @lovethornes @emelia07 @inmyheaddd @sweetreveriee @azysmate @anintellectualintellectual @off-to-the-r4ces @hermesenthusiast @peppapigsposts

“Can we paint it pink?” I asked, folding my arms as I analysed the desk.

Brown was so boring and… woody. This room practically had no personality and needed a serious magic touch. I happened to think myself to have quite the sparkle in my fingertips.

“No,” Aaron said. Not sharply or snappily just a definitive end to a conversation he clearly did not want to have.

Too bad he married a stubborn mule of a woman with a very talkative nature. I flashed my puppy dog eyes in his direction.

“But it would look so darling in pink,” I cooed, holding up the coloured paper to the drawers one more time.

“It would clash with the decor,” he said stiffly, refusing to meet my eye as he looked visibly uncomfortable at the thought of a pink desk.

I sighed, and pondered, thinking of a way to work around that problem, “we could paint the decor pink.”

Aaron’s face somehow fell even flatter, “absolutely not.”

Men are so boring. It was just a little colour. I didn’t really understand what he was so afraid of. Besides the room was so outdated and dark, it was practically a funeral parlour. The only thing with a little personality was the dying desk plant.

“Why?” I pouted, making my eyes all wide and sparkly.

“It’s vintage,” he replied, glaring at me.

It was one of those glares that were insanely hot but just with the wrong timing. The little annoyed divot he got just above his eyebrow nearly made him adorable but I decided not to be so easily wooed by my husband, though I could’ve easily forgotten all about what I was talking about and taken him into my arms.

“Okay fine,” I replied, leaning on the desk now, “we can paint the walls pink at least.”

“No,” he deadpanned as if this conversation was worse than gorging his own eyes out with a bent spoon.

My eyebrows pinched together tightly, “did Kenji annoy you this morning?”

“Kenji annoys me every morning,” he shrugged, pulling down the sleeves of his suit jacket with a little aggression.

“More than usual?” I fished, eyebrows raised.

“No…” he responded, squinting his eyes by a fraction of an inch, in suspicion.

“Then why are you being so moody,” I asked.

“I am not being moody,” he said, a distasteful look on his face, “I am just unprepared to turn the office into a five year old girl’s dream bedroom.”

My jaw dropped and I held a hand to my chest and stared at him dead in the eye, “are you implying that I have the taste of a five year old?”

“I love you very much my love-“

“Oh no Mr,” I wagged my finger at him, “you cannot sway me, not one bit, I’m quite frankly very offended.”

I was teasing of course, but sometimes Aaron took everything that little too seriously. Now was one of those very amusing times.

He reached out for me, a flash of desperate panic in his eyes, “you know I didn’t mean-“

“No, I don’t actually,” I said, shrugging him off, “so sorry but I’m going to have to ignore you for the rest of eternity.”

“That’s a pretty long time,” he pointed out quietly, looking down at the floor like a naughty child.

“I’m too impatient for that…” I groaned, “…fine. For the rest of the day.”

“Well,” he shrugged, a sudden smile creeping across his features as he inched closer to me, “we don’t have to talk.”

His arms were practically calling me and I suddenly found myself craving to be in them. He knew what he was doing, using weakness against me. I turned my head to the side and shuffled backwards.

Then I put my hand up before he could touch my lips and gently pushed him away, “nu-uh, no kisses either.”

His face fell, “What?”

“It’s my new policy,” I shrugged smoothly.

“Then take it back,” he said, an untamed sharpness biting through his tone.

I smiled coyly, “no.”

“Take it back,” he repeated, with a little more annoyance.

A grin spread widely across my lips.

“Take what you said about the pink paint back,” I replied.

Cue the silence. There wasn’t even a cricket chorus or tumbleweed to accompany it. It was almost deafening.

“That’s what I thought,” I winked, turning my back to him.

“Love-“

“I’m ignoring you,” I sang, folding my arms.

“Sweetheart please-“

I began walking away, very slowly, humming a made up tune to myself, trying to override my brain going mental over the way he called me sweetheart.

“We can paint the spare room pink,” Aaron sighed.

I stopped in my tracks and spun around, both eyebrows shooting up. Aaron’s arms were folded tightly across his chest as he stared back at me.

“Really?” I asked, biting my lip as I tried to keep my excitement at bay.

“As pink as you like,” he said, as I stepped closer.

“Can we paint little clouds on the walls too?” I pushed it further to see how far I could take it.

“Yes,” he nodded immediately.

“And glitter,” I smirked.

He winced.

“And glitter…” I repeated, a little more aggressively, batting my eyelids.

He sighed outwardly, “and glitter.”

He was probably questioning his every life decision and to be quite honest, I couldn’t blame him. Out of all the millions of girls who would throw themselves to his every whim he chose the one that would force him into painting a pink room with clouds and glitter.

“Marry me,” I smiled, falling back into his arms.

He caught me flawlessly of course, with his muscular arms pressing tight against my back, the palm of his hand holding the small of my waist so delicately it made me shudder.

“We’re already married love,” he replied with an eye roll.

“Marry me again,” I shrugged, standing up right again, planting a quick kiss on his cheek, “you are immediately forgiven, you said the magic words of pink and cloud and glitter and now everything can be okay again!”

“Funny,” he mused, pursing his lips together, “when I give you what you want, I’m suddenly a saint.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as saint,” I scoffed my eyes flicking down for a mere moment.

The corners of his mouth turned up for a fraction of a second before his face returned to something more sinister, “you manipulated me into painting a room pink,” he almost laughed, like some sort of revelation he’d just come to, “I think you’re one of the only people who has ever done that to me.”

“I would never!” I gasped, melodramatically clutching my chest, pausing for a beat, then glancing at my nails, “but I am a primadonna and I like to get my way.”

“Hmmm I hadn’t noticed,” he rolled his eyes, placing his hands on my hips and pulling me closer into his body.

“Well I’m sorry,” I said, ignoring the blush that was clearly creeping up my neck, “but you really should’ve read the label before you bought the product.”

“You being the product?” he raised a sharp blonde brow at my inventive metaphor.

“Naturally,” I nodded.

“Well doesn’t that make our relationship sound so darling,” he said dryly, “besides it’s not my fault I couldn’t see you were such a manipulator, I was blinded by your beauty.”

I stared at him dead in the eye and struggled not to laugh. Every pore in my body just wanted to crack up but my inner monologue had to keep me in check.

‘Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together. He’s being sweet and charming and treating you like a princess and-‘

“What?”

“That was cheesy,” I teased, allowing myself a small giggle as I rested my arms so they locked together just behind his neck.

His lips pulled into a tight line, “you are the first and only ever woman that would call my flirting cheesy.”

“Wow and how many women have you been with before me,” I scoffed, I cocked my head to the side, “three?”

“Two actually,” he mumbled.

“Well they say third times a charm,” I winked.

“A charm…” he mused, “what an interesting way to put it.”

I laughed, “and yet you still like me.”

“I don’t like you, love,” he murmured, his hands suddenly awfully hot on my hips, “I’m infatuated with you.”

A shiver ran down my spine, right into the depths of my stomach where it gave the little butterflies even more energy as they started to dance and backflip and do all matter of acrobatics that I could only ever dream of.

“Did you just quote Shakespeare?” I asked.

Aaron looked unimpressed, “you are so undereducated in literature.”

“Just because no one uses the word infatuated anymore,” I tusked, rolling my eyes.

“I just did,” he replied, exasperated.

“Well you’re…” I struggled to find the right word, “…you.”

“I thought you liked me,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine.

“Meh,” I replied in a low voice, “depends on the day.”

“Oh really?” Aaron said.

“Mhmmm,” I mumbled, “today’s a come ci come ca kind of day.”

“Well let me make it an embrasse-moi jusqu'à ce que tu ne puisses plus respirer kind of day for you,” he whispered, planting a soft kiss on my cheek bone. It was so gentle I barely registered that I was touched.

“I have no clue what you just said but it was hot as hell,” I laughed, trailing my fingertips up his neck.

And suddenly he was kissing me. I couldn’t pin when it started he just was. More soft kisses but this time all over my mouth that were just to die for. A gentle, slow, heavenly manoeuvre that left me longing for more.

I giggled, “and I don’t mind if you do that again.”

Aaron Warner took comments like that seriously. I took my lips back into his and spoke poems of love with no words at all. His palm was pressed flat across my back as the passion and longing for it all sent me stumbling backwards into a wall. A switch flipped or that was what it felt like and suddenly desperation became such a raw and sweet taste. We were clinging to one another, hands deep in hair, crumpling clothes, eyes closed just to take in a moment this divine, this eternal. The kisses were rougher, full of such intensity and heat. They were rapid, one after the other barely time for thought, let alone breath. We forgot what oxygen was and all of its benefits because nothing compared to this.

“Stop talking,” he said in a low, husky voice, lips immediately back on mine as soon as he’d got the words out as if he couldn’t wait to satisfy his craving, his lust.

“I can’t,” I said breathlessly between a kiss, before Aaron went in for the next one, “it’s borderline impossible,” he kissed me again, “I genuinely think I have a problem.”

“Shhhh,” he whispered, his palm pressed between the back of my head and the wall, chest falling up and down against mine. His finger dragging softly across my tingling lips, then down my jaw to my chin. He tilted my head backwards slightly.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, looking at me like I was golden, like I was the universe, like I was everything.

A warmth spread across the left side of my chest as the beating of my heart began to race to a nearly dangerous speed.

“Yeah, you’re alright looking too,” I winked.

Aaron sighed, still breathless.

“I’m kidding,” I told him gently, “you are the most beautiful man I ever saw.”

He paused for a moment, a pinkish tint rising in his cheeks at just at the top of his ears.

He leant down, putting his mouth to my ear, “what did I tell you about talking?”

And then I was back on his mouth. In a labyrinth of twisting tongues and sugary breaths. Desire, it burnt a hollow hole to my heart, a fiery red flame licking my flesh, exposing the naked organ. Bold and pulsating, it beat only to his name. It will forever only beat to his name.

“You just spoke,” I said, drawing back for a moment, “it’s not fair if you get to and I don’t.”

“I have an off switch,” he replied, “you, on the other hand-“

“Hey I thought you loved me and all the French Shakespeare stuff,” I exclaimed, waving my hand at him.

“I do,” he whispered, nose brushing over mine, “just shhhh, love.”

“I don’t think I can,” I smiled.

“I believe in you,” he said on my lips.

Oh I never knew a man could touch so tenderly. His hand slipped beneath my shirt, they were on my waist, ice cold against the heat of my skin. Goosebumps decorated my curves as a chill down ran down my spine. And he never stopped kissing. It was back to a gentle, passionate rhythm of kisses, some longer and slower and some creeping into the area of longing from before but all so full of love. I could feel it so strongly, so poignantly, like some sort of otherworldly force that neither of us would ever be able to control.

I pull away for a second, my chest heaving up and down like a untamed madwoman.

“No,” kiss, “I’m,” kiss, “serious,” kiss , “Aaron,” kiss “I-“

My breath was sucked away with another kiss, until I physically couldn’t form words. It was one way to shut me up. My hands clung to the fabric of his shirt, trailing desperately up into the depths of his hair. I gripped the chunks of blonde with raw desperation. We stumbled backwards and my back hit the door. Pain shot through it for a fraction of a second and if it lingered any longer I didn’t feel it. My distraction was too great.

I fumbled around for the handle, pushing open the door as we backed into the bedroom, still tongue tied, lost in euphoria. My head spun, the room spun, but everything was so perfect. And then suddenly I was aware of the mattress beneath me and Aaron on top. He gave no indication he may stop. I didn’t even recall falling onto the bed, my brain so overridden by emotion that I couldn’t comprehend things properly.

I placed two hands firmly on his chest and he paused, breathless, lips plumped and red, hair wild and ragged.

“What is it, love? Do you want me to stop?”

Worry ran riot over his features and shame glistened in his emerald eyes. Never did I hold so much love for one being in all my life.

“Kenji and J are going to be here in ten minutes,” I reminded him, going to push him off but not quite bringing myself to.

His eyes roamed me up and down very slowly, as if he was taking in every second, before leaning down to my ear and whispering darkly, “we’ll make it quick.”

“You slut,” I chuckled in the back of my throat, as he pressed his lips back onto mine.

“You don’t mind, love?” he murmured, with a smirk that highlighted his dimples, “do you?”

“Oh,” I grinned, tilting my head back to take his lips back into mine, “not one bit.”

I wrapped an arm around neck as he pressed our lips back together. I pulled him down onto me.

a/n: guys idk if the end got too heated there… should I have written that 🫣🫣 I feel like shatter me is worse though, right??

anyways #bellaisbackfromthedead heyyyyy guys, sorry I’ve been so absent lately!! mocks have been killing me but it’s the last week this week so yayayyay should be up and running with lots of fics soon!! though I’d finish March off with a touch of aaron warner, I hope you all enjoyed xx

shatter me masterlist

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heartcereql · 11 months ago

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playing dangerous

dodge mason x fem!reader [triwizard tournament au ]

cw: minor cursing, sappiest shi ever lmao

ever since his name was sprouted out of the glowing cup, you hadn't left dodge's side. you were there, by him, as soon as the task ended; helping him prepare; carding your fingers through his hair when he couldn't sleep.

which is why he was panicking now. he had to be by hogwart's lake in an hour, and you were nowhere to be seen. dodge hadn't seen you in all morning, which made anxiety gnaw at his insides.

you were nowhere to be seen. heather, natalie and your other friends were as clueless as him. dodge had asked them. multiple times.

it was bishop who came looking for him, finding him on the point of pulling his hair out.

"hey, man. you should get going. everyone's almost there and-"

"no. i can't," dodge interrupted bishop. "not until i find her."

just where the fuck were you? he just needed you there, by his side, like you always were. 'his lucky charm', he'd joked once. dodge was starting to believe there was more truth in his words than he'd thought.

"i'm sure she's on her way there, if not already waiting for you," bishop reassured, in an attempt to calm dodge.

he ran his fingers through his hair one last time, almost wishing they were yours, before nodding. "yeah, yeah, you're probably right.."

dodge didn't look the least bit convinced, but before he could rethink anything, bishop held him by his arm, starting the walk to the lake.

"look, y/n cares a lot about you," bishop sighed. dodge intimidated him, but he was able to swallow it. he was dragging him after all. "and she knows how much it means to you that she's there. i'm sure she'll be there."

dodge only nodded, absentmindedly. you probably had a good reason why he hadn't seen you all morning. and you'd most certainly be there, cheering for him and taking him in your arms as soon as he was done.

in spite of his best efforts to stay calm and concentrate on his bubble-head charm, once in the platform, dodge's eyes kept looking for you. a passing face, or a familiar tone of hair, but it wasn't you.

he was barely paying any attention, and it was only seconds before the magical sign that heather nudged his side.

and then dodge dove in.

the water was chilly enough to make goosebumps appear all over his figure. for an instant, all he saw, and felt, and processed, was a big mass of greenish blue liquid. quiet, fresh, almost consuming.

then, fortunate but disgustingly, he felt something touch his foot, which brought him back to reality. dodge casted the bubble-head charm. his mouth and nostrils became engulfed by a globule of air. he set motion, not wasting any other second. he swam deeper, the lights becoming dimmer as he did, turning the lake into a shadowy labyrinth of thick, swaying kelp forests.

if he wasn't so occupied trying to find the merepeople, dodge would have taken his time to curiously investigate the lake's depths. but the urgency was itching him.

the tall plants obscured his vision, making it difficult to see a few feet ahead. he pushed through, mind focused on emerging back and finding your arms again.

fuck.

a sharp, sudden prick around his ankle made him dart his eyes down. shallow eyes met his own. the grindylow's green and sinewy body lurked around his foot, a claw already clinging from it. the creature hissed at dodge, flowing its tentacles around, but dodge managed to kick it strong enough to detach it from him, and stunning him with a spell muttered under his breath. he clutched his wand tighter before he carried on.

at last, the kelp seemed to dissolve, spacing out a clearer area, where coral and stone structures resembling ancient ruins could be seen. merpeople village.

the constructions captivated him for a moment. if he paid enough attention and stood very still, he could discern glimpses of slim, grey bodies and sharp, prying eyes that studied him closely. merpeople.

dodge looked around. there was no sign of any other champion. he swam carefully, attentive not to provoke the water creatures that lived beneath him. he slowly set aside a kelp that obstructed his way, and then, just like that, his whole world stopped. before it came back to him in a heartbeat.

you.

tied to a stone pillar, you swayed ever so lightly along with the water. your gaze was serene, like you were having the most peaceful sleep. besides you were another girl that must have been your age, and a blond boy who couldn't have been older than 12 and looked an awful lot like the durmstrang champion. they also wore utterly calm expressions.

something dear.

that was what the fucking clue meant. that was why there has been no sign of you all morning.

a hundred thoughts passed dodge’s mind in a fraction of a second. how had you gotten there? were you hurt? were you alive? but he pulled himself out of the spiral of worry when he noticed movement behind him. the durmstrang champion swam his way with unbeatable determination.

clenching his jaw, he resumed his way to you. treading water fiercely, he managed to sink down to the stone pillar that held you still. dodge tried to untie the knot, but the rope was slippery in his hands. he cursed beneath his breath, desperately scratching, clinging, clutching.

the durmstrang champion was almost by his side. dodge could not lose any other second. you needed him. pulling his wand from where it was tucked in the waistband of his swimsuit. he muttered a spell that snapped the rope. he was quick to get ahold of you, pulling you close to him.

swimming to the platforms as fast as he could, his touch remained gentle on you. his fingers found your pulse, head leaned against your chest, trying, hoping, to hear or feel any sign of life. of you.

thud-thud. thud-thud. thud-thud.

the mere beating of your heart was enough to dissipate all his fear. even more, it encouraged dodge to dive faster, the platforms now a few feet away. dodge could feel the bubble-head charm dissolving. just in time.

with one last tread, he pushed you both to the surface.

the cool air hit his wet skin as he emerged from the water. cheers erupted all over the platforms; clapping and whistling, along with some victory music from the band and someone announcing ‘dodge mason, hogwarts champion’ as ‘the winner of the second task, and therefore the leading champion!’

but despite the noises and cheering, dodge had only eyes and mind for you. he watched you resurface, gasping for air like it was the first time you breathed. you were completely clueless, astounded. but then your eyes met his. and you could’ve sworn you could have cried just from seeing the tears forming in dodge’s eyes as he looked at you, gaze still painted with worry, but mostly relief and joy.

you didn’t care that you were still in the water, or that you were shivering, or that you wouldn’t be able to stay afloat if you clung to him. dodge didn’t care either. you wrapped your arms around his neck as he embraced you while trying not to sink. you fit perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle.

dodge nuzzled closer. you were okay. you were okay, and you were there, and you were with him. and that was all that mattered.

“alright, you two lovebirds, time to get out,” alastor moody’s voice pulled you out of the hug.

now a flustered mess, the both of you gladly took the hands that reached out, pulling you out of the lake. your skin didn’t precisely welcome the chilly temperature of the foggy morning. as soon as you each got a blanket around you, you rejoined again; dodge’s arm around your shoulder, your head on his chest.

“are you okay?” he constantly mumbled, tucking strands of damp hair behind your ears.

“i’m fine now,” you smiled, lips trembling as you stood on your tip toes to peck his lips, hand moving to cup his face.

dodge didn’t let you go all day, which you were more than happy to oblige. hand in hand, arm draped around your shoulder or slinging around your waist, you clinging to his bicep. never leaving the other’s side. which was exactly what you both needed.

and this time, once you’d snuck into his dorm, it was his fingers that gently massaged your scalp, helping you rest at ease.

#dodge mason x reader #dodge mason #dodge mason x you #mike faist x reader #panic #dodge mason panic #heartcereql

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americanwh0rerstory · 5 months ago

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3rd December [cyclops]

scott summers x f!reader [established relationship]

SUMMARY: “i still remember, 3rd of december, me in your sweater…” (heather - conan gray)

WARNINGS: none

A/N: i’ve never written scott before, so i hope i did good ^_^

scott stood on the front lawn of the x-mansion, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he watched your child-like enthusiasm towards the snow. he couldn’t blame you though, the snow brought out a more softer side of him as if those small flakes dancing through the sky were potent magic compelling him to be softer

he watched as the wind messed your hair, how the snow would settle between your locks. he watched the grin on your face get wider as the snow settled around you. however his attentiveness instantly drew his attention to the tiniest shiver you displayed. he didn’t care if it was small, just a small muscle twitch. he hated the thought of you being cold

“sweetie” scott called out as he approached, removing his jacket as he walked. he stopped behind you and carefully put his jacket over your shoulders. the brown leather draping around your cold body. the jacket was still warm from him wearing it, the faint smell of his cologne lingered on the collar

he almost melted when he saw the look on your face upon him giving you his sweater, and a small smile broke out on his face “looks better on you than it did me”

smiling softly, with a faint hint of blush on your cheeks, you wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as a show of gratitude. he instantly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him

“love you scott” you mumble in a gentle tone, staying in his hug

“love you more, sweetheart” he half-whispered, planting a gentle kiss to your forehead whilst the snow continued to dance down upon you both

TAGS: @j1mmys-darl1ng @urmomsg1rlfreind @alittleobsessedbitch @worshipping-cheesus-christ

#x men comics #x men 97 #x men movies #scott summers #scott summers x reader #scott summers x you #scott summers fluff #cyclops #cyclops x men #cyclops x reader #cyclops fluff

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abbysimsfun · 6 months ago

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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 73 (Conrad Takes a Trip With Bella Goth)

After a brisk morning walk with Gord, Conrad checked the mailbox. The next newsletter from the Ambrosia Society had arrived, and he was more determined than ever to face his fears through the challenge.

Their life was changing - he was changing - and with Heather expecting again, there was no doubt in his mind the more arduous tasks in their quest for ambrosia would fall to him.

He'd really taken to cooking, and he headed inside to finish making breakfast after a quick shower.

"What do we need to do next?" Heather asked.

"It says this week we need to work on gourmet cooking. We basically need to cook so much food we'll have to give it away."

Heather shrugged. "We could do that."

"We're supposed to plant a bird of paradise, graft a lily cutting to one of our snapdragons, and you could catch an angelfish."

"I don't think we'll catch angelfish in water this cold."

They sat down to breakfast, enjoying their morning as a trio while Ash told a story about a few of his friends at daycare. "Arron brought a doll for show and tell and Mateo said he was a baby, but Arron said Mateo was a bigger baby. Then both cried like babies!"

As they finished eating, Conrad dressed again, interrupted by a knock at their door. He greeted Bella Goth outside with a smile.

"I saw the latest newsletter and Cassandra told me you and Heather's good news. I wanted to drop off a congratulatory gift, but then I had an idea about the task to catch an angelfish."

"Thanks, Mrs. Goth. We're really excited, but you didn't have to get us anything. We were just talking about how difficult it might be to find an angelfish this late in the fall."

"Here in Brindleton Bay, certainly. But I said I'd help you on your journey; I haven't been in ages, and I could take you both. I went when I was expecting Alexander, and everything went fine."

"Take us where?"

"There's a portal in Glimmerbrook that leads to the Magic Realm. It uses some of the same energy Heather used to travel to the Realm of the Dead, but you go yourself; there's no travelling with the mind on one plane and body on another. But there's a block called Casters Alley with shops for anything spellcasters might need. The ingredient shop sometimes stocks angelfish, and they'll sell to you even if you're not using it for any potions. The shopkeepers are all ghosts, but they're business-savvy, too. They won't say no to simoleons from anybody."

"Ghosts? What Magic Realm? I thought you said your paranormal exploration days were behind you."

"Yes, ghosts," said Bella with a smile. "I know you're nervous about the dead. It's been months since I offered to let you travel on my seance table and you haven't taken me up on it, but if you're going to get comfortable with this, I'm happy to show you the way. And I'm not really exploring at this point in my life. I won't try sparring with any spellcasters like when I was younger!"

Conrad glanced through the kitchen window where Heather was cleaning the dishes. "I haven't been avoiding it...exactly. We've been preoccupied by doctor's appointments and parenting classes, working on our skills for the challenge, working..."

"This is a good way to introduce you to more benevolent spirits, like Grimmie, to help you as you familiarize yourself with the paranormal. And the Magic Realm, well...to see it is the only way to believe it, and it will certainly help erase any lingering doubts that the paranormal is very real, and very strange. But it's safe there. Especially on Casters Alley. I've been countless times, and it will give you what you need to meet the society's challenge."

"When would we go?"

"We could leave today, if you can find someone to watch young Ash. There's a magic subway to Glimmerbrook and we'll probably be there and back before midnight, but I didn't take my kids to the Magic Realm until they were teenagers. A wandering toddler could fall off a...well, you'll see."

Conrad shook his head. "Heather doesn't need to put herself through any magic portals right now," he said. "She'll stay with Ash, and you can take me and Gord."

Bella smiled. "Bring a coat, it's a lot colder up in the Glimmer Mountains."

A short time later, he met Bella in warmer clothing on the square. "Where exactly do we catch this magic subway?"

"See the truss bridge over the waterfall across the square? It hides a staircase to the underground subway connecting everywhere in Simlandia to Glimmerbrook. The authorities tried to prevent sims from finding its magic and unleashing havoc with it, but they didn't cut off every road in. I can't say I blame them for trying to make it inaccessible - for a while magic was pretty out of control."

They headed to the bridge and Conrad followed Bella down a long stairwell to a dark tunnel lit by fluorescent lights. "I can't believe there's an entire subway under Brindleton Bay. No one at the station has ever mentioned this place."

"I doubt any of them know about it. Spellcasters in Glimmerbrook prefer not to deal with real world law enforcement."

The detective frowned. "Am I walking into a trap?"

"You're not going as a cop. You're going to learn everything you can about cooking ambrosia and to pick up some angelfish."

"...From ghosts." The train pulled up with a metal screech. Bewildered, Conrad followed Bella inside.

The cars were empty, apart from the two of them, and Bella chatted away with excitement. "Magic isn't outlawed in Simlandia, but magic in the wrong hands can be dangerous, so they make the tunnel hard to find. Some places have escalators, like San Myshuno. The high class need their comforts."

"You're certainly not low class, Mrs. Goth."

"I just know the value of good tailoring, really. I never fit in to my ex-husband's world. He thought my interests became obsessions and made me lose my mind, but everything around me was the problem, and the occult was my escape. But I went too deep, eventually."

"Is it easy to get too deep in all this?"

"It can be, but you're not much like me, Detective. You're responsible, methodical, and you're afraid of this stuff. It's good to be afraid. It protects you from getting consumed by it, taking one too many risks." A bell dinged inside the old metal train car. "Oh! We're here!"

"Already?"

Bella smirked. "Magic, Detective."

They exited the subway to a gorgeous sunset over lush trees and steep-backed mountains. Conrad gaped. "Wow. This place is..."

Bella smiled, breathing in the pine-scented forests. "I've missed this place. Welcome to Glimmerbrook. And just down the hill is the door to the Magic Realm."

Because of the speed of the mysterious subway, Conrad didn't know how far they'd come. But it still felt too far to turn back now. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Bella legit visited on her own and autonomously gave them a present. I'd already read the newsletter to know what they had to do for the challenge and Heather wasn't going to go because she's pregnant and we're keeping her safe. But Bella taking him felt like a perfect unplanned twist!

WCIF underground subway: Sims 4 Gallery basement lot by NotChoinski. Mine looks different than what you get because I don't have For Rent yet and it substituted something like 52 items, but nonetheless it's a functional lot I didn't build and I must hype it!

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deathlooksgoodonyou-if · 9 months ago

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How would the ROs react to a shy MC just nervously asking for a kiss while blushing up a storm and avoiding making eye contact with the ROs?

Julian looks down at you, trying to hold back the budding smile on his face. By the gods, he wants to tease you and he will. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Could you speak a little louder?" He cups his ear. When you repeat yourself he merely hums, wagging a finger. "What was that? Speak up, love." He snorts at the sight of you struggling. "As much as I want to tease you more," his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against his chest. "I will give you what you want. Just this once."

Julianne smiles at the sight of you. She wonders if you're aware of how beautiful you look when you are flustered. "Aw, you want a kiss?" She hums teasingly, gaze soft. "Say please."

". . .Please?" You say, breathlessly as you fidget with the loose threads of your clothes.

She swallows as the word tumbles out of your pretty mouth. That shouldn't have the effect on her it does. She caves in. Like she always does.

Dylan frowns at the sight of you nervous. Something twisted in him likes that he still manages to have this effect on you, though he quickly squashes down that train of thought.

He takes a step closer to you, cupping your cheeks, lifting your head to meet your gaze. "You want me to kiss you?" He murmurs, soothing your nerves. At your nod, he presses his lips against yours. It's slow, it's sensual, it's tantalizing, it's tender. Its everything you have ever wanted. "Another one?" He murmurs, your lips glistening from the aftermath. Without waiting for your response, he kisses you one more time. Then again. And again. Till you're breathless and heaving. Till you forget your name.

Warren's blinks, stiffening at the request. His lips quirk upwards when the realisation sets in and he cups your right cheek in his hand, planting a kiss to your forehead. He laughs at your pout, the sound throaty and warm. "I said I wanted a kiss."

"You didn't specify where."

You tap your lips with your forefinger, heat pooling in your chest, right where your heart resides.

He smiles, his hand wrapping around the back of neck as he leans in, pressing his mouth on yours.

Aiden raises a amused brow at your flushed countenance. A smug smirk tugs at his lips as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He brings the back of your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. "You know you don't need to ask, sweetheart." He looks at through his lashes. It always made you envious. He has beautiful lashes. His hand curls around in your hair, pulling you in. He bumps his nose against you gently, a rare fond smile on his face. "Next time, just kiss me instead." He does give you what you want. But also much, much more.

Mia tries not to laugh. It's cute. You are cute. Unfortunately, for you she likes to torment you. She places a finger under your chin, lifting your head to meet her eyes. "Eyes on me." Her long nail traces a path from your chin to your jaw to the back of your neck, the gesture making goosebumps rise on your arms. "Now, what are the magic words?" She teases. She wants to give it to you as much as you but she won't. Not until you say it properly. Not until you're begging and whining.

Jessica gazes at you and her expression softens. She cups your face in her hands, her thumb under your eyes, caressing your cheekbones. "Since you asked so nicely, I'll give it to you." She murmurs softly against your lips, giving you what your desire. Her lips trail down wet kisses from your jaw, to your neck. She sighs, closing her eyes, burying her face in neck. "Now, I am the one who needs more." You think you hear the smile in her voice. "You truly are the worst."

Heat rises up Heather's neck. A choked laugh espaces her throat and she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her eyes. Or she tries, since it stubbornly falls back to frame the side of her face. "You want me to kiss you?" She swallows. It's silly, really. She shouldn't be feeling so giddy. You have kissed before but it's always as exhilarating as the last time. "You know, you didn't need to ask." She breathes, her voice rising by an octave. "You can always kiss me whenever you like. . ." She trails off, licking her lips. Trembling fingers, curl around your wrist, guiding your hand to her right cheek. She kisses your palm, looking at you, cheeks flushed. "C'mere."

#thank you for the ask!#ro : jules hawkins #ro : jessica hawkins #ro : dylan jeane #ro : warren chae #ro : mia morgan #ro : aiden hamilton #ro : heather hamilton #ros react #reaction ask

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snakeflower-cottage · 28 days ago

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Now that I’ve spoken about the master, I wanted to talk about my mistress…

Nicnevin, the Gyre Carlin and Queen of the Unseelie Court

Nicnevin (or Nicneven, Nyneve, Nignivie) is a name that lingers in the damp winds of Scotland, woven into the old roads of witchcraft, faery lore, and the calls of geese at night. She is the Gyre Carlin, the great witch-mother, feared and revered in equal measure. She is no mere mortal sorceress but something older, one of the Queens of Elphame, ruler of the Unseelie Court of Autumn and Winter, mistress of wild magic.

The Whirling Hag and Her Spinning Magic

The title Gyre Carlin is more than just a name. Gyre means to whirl, to spiral, to turn, and Carlin is the Scots word for a witch or crone. She is the Spinner, the one who twists fate upon her spindle, weaving spells as fine as gossamer and binding spirits as surely as a knotted thread. Like the Cailleach, she is tied to the great cycles of time, turning the wheel of the seasons, unraveling the threads of life and death.

Witches who followed her were said to use enchanted thread in their charms—knotted cords to bind or unbind, spun flax to draw down the wind, red wool to turn away the ill ee. In some tales, Nicnevin herself would spin fate into being, crafting charms that could grant second sight or summon a lover’s spirit from across the moors.

Her role as a spinner also ties her to transformation. Just as thread changes shape beneath the fingers of the weaver, Nicnevin herself is ever-changing. In some stories, she shifts her form from a hag to a maiden, from a woman to a hare, an owl, a great black mare. She teaches her witches the same arts, how to slip from one shape to another, how to run unseen in the night, how to vanish with the turn of a cloak.

Herbal Magic and the Poisoner’s Art

Nicnevin’s witches were also known for their knowledge of herbs—both for healing and for harm. She was a patron of those who gathered in the moonlight, searching for roots and flowers with potent virtues. It was said that certain plants, when picked on her feast night, carried an extra charge of magic.

Henbane and nightshade, foxglove and yew—plants of dream and death, spirits bound in green flesh. Her followers knew which could grant visions, which could numb pain, which could send the soul flying from the body to join her spectral hunt. They brewed ointments from these herbs, rubbing them into their skin to slip between worlds, riding the wind to Elphame.

Yet she was not only a bringer of poison—Nicnevin was also a great healer, though her ways were wild and strange. In folk belief, certain illnesses were caused by fae mischief or the interference of spirits. A wise woman who called on Nicnevin might craft a charm to lift such afflictions, whispering her name over water poured through a holed stone or mixing herbs into an offering left at the crossroads.

The Unseelie Queen and Her Spirit Host

As Queen of the Unseelie Court, Nicnevin rides at the head of a fearsome procession. Unlike the gentler Seelie fae, who may grant fortune to those they favor, the Unseelie are the dark and wayward spirits—restless dead, twisted fae, and witches who did not find their peace. On stormy nights, her host sweeps over the land, their passage marked by sudden gusts of wind, the barking of unseen hounds, or the flicker of lights in the bog.

To cross her path unprotected is to risk being swept away—unless one knows the proper rites. Some folk left out offerings of milk, ale, or bread to keep her favor. Others carried rowan or iron, whispering charms if they heard hoofbeats on the wind. Those who dared to ride with her might return forever changed—if they returned at all.

Nicnevin’s Legacy

Though her name has faded from common telling, traces of Nicnevin still linger in Scotland’s folklore, in the rites of witches who spin and weave, in the gathering of herbs beneath the moon, in the whisper of wind that carries the scent of heather and something older still.

She is the Spinner, the Poisoner, the Queen who flies.

Would you know her, if she called you to join her revel?

#folk witchcraft #traditional witchcraft #witchcraft #traditional witches #folk witch #folk witches #witch #trad witch #folklore #nicnevin #witch mother #witch Queen #gyre carlin #spinning thread #herb lore #shapeshifting #witch patron #matron

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violetasteracademic · 25 days ago

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4, 12, 19

(Hi ily)

My darling my loooove

4. A story idea you haven't written yet

I am iiiiiitching to make a contribution to Omegaverse Week this year and it is straight up a cheesy porn plot. And this is my public plea to my fellow writer friends to contribute obscene amounts of cheesy porn plots to Omegaverse week! I've been wanting to write a why choose between Elain, Azriel, and Lucien before I even wrote my first word for fic (the real ones know that Golden Doe initially came to me as a why choose but carranam Az and Elain and possessive Azriel took over and I had to follow that thread!)

Anywho, here's my straight up porn omegaverse story idea:

Elain is a florist who, in an effort to prove she has gotten over him, has offered to provide the florals for her ex fiance Graysen's wedding. However, a heatwave breaks out over Velaris (hehe) and both Elain's floral fridge and her air conditioner go kaput. With only days until her ex's wedding, and thousands of delicate flowers at risk, Elain calls in the two men she's always been able to count on. Lucien, an HVAC specialist and Azriel, an appliance repair contractor.

What's a girl to do when the weather isn't the only thing going into heat, and not one, but two alphas are at her service?

12. A trope you’re really into right now

Answered here and honestly I don't think there is any way I could creatively reword this!

19. The most interesting topic you've researched for a fic

Ooooooh I am an autistic (shout out to my fellow ADHD, AUDHD, and autistic fic writers) little SLUT for research. By far, the most fun I had researching recently (and for fic exclusively) was for A Court of Twisted Fate because of the unique challenges it presented. ACOTF has the most original world building and magic systems I've used in canon-adjacent fic, and of course it has to fit seamlessly within the existing world.

In this world, alchemy was the human's ability to create their own small form of magic by harnessing the power of organic materials. Before the wall went up, alchemists could tap into the hidden power of metal, stones, and plants, and create charms and amulets which provided a variety of affects. After the war and the wall, humans rooted out healers, alchemists, and anyone who performed actions that could be considered an attempt to keep magic alive, thus burying the practice.

Alchemist Elain fills my witchy and tinkerer heart with so much joy. Without spoiling too much, I had to do a ton of research on metalwork, glasswork, and continue to keep in mind the meanings of different flowers, stones, and organic materials. I checked out SO many books from the library to research the different powers and meanings behind metals and crystals and plants. My favorite discovery was the white heather flower, which in some folklore is believed to grow where faeries are buried or where blood has been spilled in battle. I really wanted the metal and glasswork to feel real and for any items crafted to really give the sense that humans have discovered their small way of responding to magic.

I'm pretty sure I cared about all of these discoveries and thematic impact of organic materials Elain is working with waaaaay more than my readers, but my god, it was the best time.

#thank you for the asks my love #kissing you #on the mouth #elriel fic #elriel fic writers #acotar fic writers #eluzriel fic idea

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musingmelsuinesmelancholy · 2 years ago

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Some things I’ve been thinking about. At times being an American trad witch is incredibly frustrating and at others it’s absolutely exhilarating, rewarding. Reconnecting with my ancestral ( primarily french and scottish ) lore, magical practices, witchcraft etc has and will continue to inform my practice but I’ll never be a “french” witch. I’ll never be a “scottish” witch. I can find a lone hawthorn or a sacred tree guarding a hidden spring to tie the cloutie to, I can divine via a snail’s mucus trail, Fly to the Sabbath to meet The Abbess, heed the Dame Blanches, pluck the golden bloom with songs to St Columba, safeguard me and mine via silver, spring water and juniper. Yet there’s many things I’ll never know or be able to do. Whether that’s because these things are so tied to the land or a specific place, language barriers, ( working to overcome this one ) or due to the ( well warranted) gate keeping of lore and practices.

This used to be a source of great confusion for me. I think because I was afraid( due to my previous new age fuckwittery ) to experiment, do anything other than what I understood as “traditional”. My understanding being too rigid at the time; the pendulum swung from one end of the spectrum to the other. This delayed my progress and “froze” me. I was left wondering what an “American” trad craft would look like; most our books do come from a European POV. Learning of our own magical traditions as well as those of my Canadian family ( still working on that one haha ) helped. Reading Robin Kimmere helped. Reading Schulke, him being an American and writing on American plants, helped too. I’ve come to know Sugar Maple and Plantain as powerful spirits. Both teaching important lessons on how to rectify my ancestors mistakes, to foster relations with the First Peoples and how to incorporate the magic of this land into my craft. Rather than being frustrated by my being American I see it as a challenge now. I get to explore spirits, plants, places, animals, spiritual/physical ecologies ( is even really a difference between these?) completely unknown to my ancestors. I get to reconcile the old and the new. To learn from Spirit Direct. Tradition isn’t the worship of ashes, it’s the preservation of Fire. New wood must be added to keep The Fire burning. The Devil of this land certainly is a spirit of the unknown.

I am the land, the land is me.

I don’t own it, to it I owe all.

To it my body will return, the tithe paid.

I’m not rolling hills of heather, white chalk cliffs, the monk’s island nor the azure coast. The memories of these places echo distantly in my blood, sung alive by my ancestors shades. Part of me they’ll always be; yet it’s not who I am. Not what I am.

I’m craggy shores, dull-jade waves bearing down upon the tired rocks. I am musky pine forests veiled in mist. Sun-venerating oaks hugging the shoreline. Bleeding alders in damp ground swelling. Proud maples sustaining generation upon generation with their boiled blood. Death-grey clay, exposed by running spring.

I am the kudzu, the itching moth, the knotweed, the Norway maple, the ivy wrecking havoc upon the land. My surname and light skin proof of a genocide ongoing. I am my ancestors sins; the specter of the Old Growth forests, their grief hanging over the land like a fog. Every interaction with The Land tinged with sadness, loss.

I am my maternal side’s copper curls. Melusine’s pride. Ave Landry! Ave Gauthier! Forebears mine.

I am my paternal side’s grief. The end result of decades of cultural warfare. The Jesuits stole our name….my hair will not be cut.

Never will I libate these glacier carved valleys with booze.

I am the plantain, learning a kinder way. The sumac reclaiming the orchard.

My Februarys, my Marches aren’t snow drops and daffodils peaking through the frozen ground. They’re steely skies and walls of sleet. Bloodroot heralds winters wane; not Brigid’s flower.

My June isn’t fields of poppies, it’s seas of crimson staghorn blooms skyward reaching.

My augusts aren’t golden shafts of wheat, swaying in summer’s last breaths; they’re explosions of neon-violet and honey-yellow. Corn ripening on the vine, supporting the climbing bean. The cicadas song reverberating.

Old Michaelmas marks harvest’s end, October potatoes long buried in soils darkness finally exhumed. The Devil his Rosy Briar to ascend and plunge.

With Novembers first snows the Dead come in.

I’ll never process around a standing stone nor know what it is to live and eat off the land my dead lay in. Finally, I’m learning to be at peace with this. To love and know the land I live on. I’ll always be a stranger here, a guest. I hope to be a good one.

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b33t-r00t · 3 months ago

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Can the fairies do magic

Allow me to answer this with a piece of text I sent my friend while explaining my fairy world building:

Fairies exist and are small little guys who live in areas with lots of vegetation. They can't do magic but do have a sixth sense granted by their antenna: they can hear frequencies emitted by plants, which the fairies call 'plant song'.

Fairies have developed a kind of symbiotic relationship with flora because of this ability: they listen to plants and provide for their needs, and in turn the plants will grow to provide for the fairies (e.g. bush that grows a perfectly sized shelter for a fairy).

Fairies have special relationships with plants and this is reflected in their names: when they are born, a fairy is given a name by their parents, usually the name of a long-lived plant like a tree. Then when the fairy reaches maturity, they select a second name dedicated to a plant they have shared a particularly close relationship with, e.g Pine Bluebell. Heather Selfheal. Willow Barley.

#I just really like world building what can I say #I struggle to make stories with magic because I prefer when stuff like that has rules and reason #some say… I’m autistic #Like my doctor #asks #fairies

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amphibimations · 10 months ago

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Choose your own adventure comic, poll below!

You spend a very long time trying to decide what shape to make Pete. You immediately decide against a human or cow shape; A human would be too boring, and you don’t want to even try making something imaginary like a cow. The decision you struggle with is whether it will be a rat or a dragon… you really like both animals.

You decide you like dragons a bit more, so you gather up a mound of dirt and sculpt it into the shape of a tiny wyvern. You were thinking about rats so much while sculpting that it ends up looking a bit rat-like… that’s fine. It’s still clearly a dragon, even with the whiskers.

You take a little stick and carve his name into his forehead (it’s the only thing you know how to spell in Shebic), and then you use petramancy to bring him to life!!!

He doesn’t need any instructions from you, he automatically knows what to do. You’ve made Pete so many times that he can basically read your mind. He runs off and starts searching the pitcher plants and sundews, quickly finding plenty of little bones. You’re so proud of him.

He drops the skeletons he's collected so far at your feet, and then turns around and runs off again to collect even more. Suddenly, you hear soft hoofbeats approaching. You turn around and see…

YOUR ARCH NEMESIS!!!!! ... It’s Heather Destrier. She thinks she’s so much better than you just because she’s a year older and knows history facts and is the daughter of a baroness. She thinks she’s better even though she has a weird haircut and a weird dad. One time she put a worm in your food when you weren’t looking. And she’s always saying mean things. Mean things like… “Ugh, what are YOU doing here?? You’re like, a two hour walk from your house… Did you get lost?? Is your brain made of dirt?? Is your dirt-brain the reason you’re always playing in the mud? That's so embarrassing for you.” Heather says.

You bet she’s just jealous that you can make a golem and she can’t. It doesn’t stop you from feeling angry. More than angry, though, you’re confused. Why is Heather riding her unicorn all the way out here? Right now, you two are at the farthest point into the bog you feel comfortable going. If a person goes much further they start running into the fairies, the harpies, the water monsters. They start running into the deceptive blankets of ground that float above the water and suck you in when you make a wrong step. Heather could die if she rides out there. You think about what you should say next.

Your first thought is that warning her away from the bog will be a great opportunity to call her an idiot, and just insult her in general. And she'll totally owe you one for saving her.

Your second thought is: why even warn her! If she gets lost that’s her own fault. You should skip straight to the insults. You could even remind her that her dress is illegal. She hates that.

Your third thought is…maybe you should try to stop her from going any further… by force. She needs to be saved from her own stupid decisions!! You could use magic to knock her off her unicorn! It would totally be for a good and moral reason. And not just because you want to knock her off her unicorn.

This collaborative choose-your-own-adventure comic is called Codex Calluna. A new page will be posted every Saturday evening (est). If you would like to, reblogs mean more people will be able to see this and participate!

Archive blog with only the comic pages: here Page one

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magickkate · 1 year ago

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Hey witches! Are you drawn to the rhythm of the waves, the salty scent of the sea, and the boundless expanse of the ocean stretching to the horizon? If so, you might be attuned to the magic of Sea Magic, a mystical practice that connects with the elemental energies of water and the mysteries of the deep. Here are a few ways to embrace the magic of Sea Magic:

🌊 Connect with the Tide: Sea witches typically have a strong connection to the ocean, drawing inspiration, energy, and spiritual guidance from its vastness and power. Tune into the ebb and flow of the tides, allowing their rhythmic movement to guide your magical workings and rituals. Work with the energy of high tide for abundance and manifestation, and low tide for release and letting go.

🚰 Water Magic: Water is a central element in sea witchery, and practitioners often work with its properties for cleansing, healing, intuition, and emotional balance.

🌙 Moon Magic: Like many other forms of witchcraft, sea witchery often incorporates lunar cycles and phases, harnessing the energy of the moon for rituals and spellcasting.

🪸 Herbalism: Sea witches may work with herbs and plants associated with coastal regions or those that thrive in saline environments for magical purposes.

🐬 Work with Sea Creatures: Connect with the spirits of the sea and the creatures that dwell beneath the waves, such as dolphins, whales, and mermaids, honoring their wisdom and guidance in your magical practice.

🐚 Collect Seashells and Sea Treasures: Sea witches may collect shells, driftwood, seaweed, and other items washed ashore for use in spells, rituals, or as talismans. Gather seashells, sea glass, and other treasures washed ashore by the ocean, incorporating them into your spells, rituals, and altar decorations to infuse your magic with the energy of the sea.

🌊 Invoke Ocean Deities: Cultivate a relationship with ocean deities and spirits, such as Poseidon, Yemaya, or Neptune, by offering prayers, making offerings, and invoking their blessings and protection in your magical workings.

🧜🏼‍♀️ Seafaring Lore and Folk Traditions: Sea witches may draw upon maritime folklore, legends, and traditions for rituals, spells, and divination practices. Marine creatures like dolphins, whales, mermaids, and sea turtles may hold symbolic significance in sea witchcraft, representing various aspects of the ocean's energy and mythology.

🌬️ Navigation and Divination: Some sea witches incorporate navigation techniques, such as reading the stars or using instruments like compasses, into their practice. Divination methods related to the sea, such as scrying with water or shells, may also be used.

🦭 Respect for Nature: Central to sea witchery is a reverence for the natural world, particularly the ocean and its ecosystems, with an emphasis on environmental stewardship and sustainability. Sea witches often perform rituals for protection, purification, healing, and empowerment, drawing upon the strength and resilience of the ocean.

Whether you're a beachcomber, a sailor, or simply a lover of the sea, Sea Magic invites you to dive deep into the mysteries of the ocean and explore the hidden realms that lie beneath the waves. So let the rhythm of the sea guide you, and may your magic flow as freely as the currents of the ocean! 🌊🐚

Books to Read:

Water Magic by Lilith Dorsey

The Sea Witch: A Grimoire of Ocean Magick by Jennifer Heather

Year of the Witch: Connecting with Nature's Seasons through Intuitive Magick by Temperance Alden

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maximumwobblerbanditdonut · 1 year ago

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I HAVE AN obsession with the color green. It’s a color of opposites. Green is life, growth, and health. It’s also sickness, greed, and envy. It’s good and bad at once. And it’s everywhere this afternoon as I sit down with actor, producer, author, and entrepreneur Sam Heughan — most recognized for his starring role in the Scotland-based time travel drama “Outlander.” His shirt bears a green tartan pattern, somewhere between jade and emerald. To my right, the glass bottle of his new gin is a transparent seafoam. Above my head is the leafy expanse of a tree, planted in the courtyard of New York’s Crosby Street Hotel. The gin we sip tastes green: grassy and alpine, fresh as menthol and bright as a sour apple. Most vividly is the green in my mind’s eye: the wet, rich, misty green of Scotland, a place Heughan speaks of with rapture.

Missing home is what drove Heughan to launch his spirits brand Sassenach, after the Scottish Gaelic word for an English person, or rather, an “outsider.” “When I was in London away from home, a jobbing actor, missing Scotland, I remember my first time trying a single malt whisky and I had such an emotional reaction,” he recalls from across the table, his bright blue eyes wide. “It reminded me of Scotland.”

I remark on the gin’s legs, thick and viscous, streaking the sides of my glass. Heughan nods, “I increased the strength. It just gives it a bit more weight. I love a bit of weight on my tongue.” Toasted oats give a creamy feel to the cornucopia of flavors present in the liquid: pine resin, heather, blackberry leaf, blaeberry — and, again, that sour green apple. “There’s no citrus in Scotland. That’s why I chose apples,” Heughan explains. “I remember as a kid, picking them and throwing them at people, eating them, then being really ill because they’re so sour.”

Heughan’s family — his mother, brother, and uncle — still live in Scotland. His uncle used to have a ceilidh band. “[Ceilidh is] a traditional Scottish dance,” he explains. “It’s madness. Everyone’s drinking whisky and the dancers get faster and faster and there are lots of spinning people around.” Heughan listens to a lot of Scottish music. He later sends me a song called “Blackbird” by Martyn Bennett, known for mixing dance tracks with traditional Celtic music. I tear up at its aching slants. “It makes me homesick for a home that’s not mine,” I message him. “That’s Scotland,” he writes back. “It does that to people.”

Sam Heughan Is in Good Spirits Image Float

Heughan was raised by a single mother in the south of Scotland — the rural stretches of Dumfries and Galloway. “Spent a lot of time on my own pretending I was a knight or Robert the Bruce.” The land’s botanicals now flavor his gin. Courtesy of Sam Heughan.

“It’s one foot in the present, one in the past,” muses Heughan about his country, adding a splash of tonic to my gin, whose flavor now reveals a pleasant salinity. “The castles. So many great battles. You

can feel the history. I think that’s what makes it so magical.” This history is inextricably linked to ritual, observed in Scotland to this day. Take Beltane, a pagan ritual beginning serendipitously on Heughan’s birthday, April 30. “You’re supposed to stay up all night and wash your face in the fresh dew when the sun rises, then go to bed and dream of your future spouse,” he describes. “It’s all about rebirth and nature.”

We talk about other parts of the world that have shaped him, as I remark on his fusion accent: a bit Scottish for sure, but mixed with something else, sort of American and British, too. America’s opportunity and diversity captivate Heughan. He came here for the first time at 18, hostel hopping in San Francisco. “I remember looking at the Golden Gate Bridge for hours, playing my cassette of ‘(Sittin’ On) the Dock of the Bay’ by Otis Redding over and over. I was living on $5 burritos — one a day. It’s all I could afford.” He speaks of Hawaii with reverence — the local culture’s connection to wildlife and the sea. He spent time with a fisherman and his family there who taught him the Indigenous way to fish: “Gut it straight away. Take out the heart, say a prayer, and throw it back into the ocean immediately to allow the soul of the fish to live on.” New Zealand also moves him. He was there recently and learned about tā moku, the art of Māori tattooing. “You sit with an artist and tell him your story. He chooses where it goes on your body and makes it there and then. He stuck [the initial sketch] on my left forearm here, and it was all about my mom and my brother and the absence of my father.” He wants to return to New Zealand and get the tattoo next time.

My gin has opened up even more, spreading out into softer, aromatic florals as Heughan uncorks a bottle of his whisky. “People have called you a global heartthrob.” I begin, “Is that a role you’re —”

“Who has?” His eyes grow bigger in feigned shock. (Fun fact: the Sam Heughan fanbase even has their own name — “Heughligans.”)

“Someone I talked to in the subway.”

“Right, right,” he nods gravely, pouring new glasses.

“Do you,” I continue, taking a sip, “feel comfortable in that role?” The whisky tastes like a spicy Werther’s caramel.

“My character is what some people aspire to, and I understand why. He’s this incredible human being who’s just so in love with his wife and does the most romantic things. Selfless. People then think you might be that person. I’m certainly not. But it’s something to aspire to.”

“Are you comfortable,” I press, “being an object of desire?” Heughan shares that in earlier years, he was treated in a way that would no longer be tolerated. “I’d be asked, ‘What’s under your kilt?’ or ‘How do you get your abs?’ I wish I did have abs! We were just in a different industry. I don’t have resentment or a grudge. But I would like to be seen for the work that I do, rather than my looks.”

While he’s still based in Scotland, Heughan also has a house in LA, a city he’s not exactly sold on. He toys with the idea of New York as his next home base. He loves it here. “The cocktail bars. Cycling along the West Side. SoHo. The river. Getting a ferry. I’m so into ferries! I’ll go to Staten Island, then come back again. We got a helicopter the other day back from the Hamptons — I don’t like helicopters. They’re not meant to fly. However, seeing the Statue of Liberty from there, it’s so good. New York could be my city.”

I show Heughan around some local spots that evening. We sit at the bar of Superbueno for mezcal drinks and tacos. The music gets louder and so do the crowds. Mouth full of al pastor, I semi-shout a question in Heughan’s direction, asking if he ever gets overstimulated. “No, not really,” he replies simply, between chewing. At 6 feet, 3 inches, Heughan towers over seemingly everyone. Maybe it’s calmer up there. There’s an overall good-natured quality to him; it’s soothing to be around.

We head to another bar, Mr. Fongs. The air is thick with the smell of trash and rats dart to and fro. A subway thunders overhead as we walk below a bridge in Chinatown. “This is awesome,” Heughan murmurs. We order the bar’s specialty: salty plum old-fashioneds. “I want a place where the second I walk out my door, I’m right in the center of all of it,” he says decidedly, whistling a little at the (notoriously strong) drink. “Right in the middle.”

Heughan is noticeably unadorned. I suggest some rings and an ear piercing for his New York era. A candle light flickers against his cheek, evoking another world — someplace old and rural and rugged. At this moment, I see his character, a fantasy projection of the leading man. But really, we’re just in Chinatown, weighing the pros and cons of earrings on men. “Sadly I don’t think I’m quite cool enough,” he sighs, “to pull that off.” ▪️

Our Contributors

Sophie Mancini Writer

Sophie Mancini is an editor at Departures. Born and raised in New York City, she holds a degree in creative writing from Johns Hopkins University and has a background as a writer in brand and editorial.

Diana Markosian Photographer

Diana Markosian (born in Moscow, 1989) is a Russian-American photographer of Armenian descent. Her work explores memory and place through a layered, interdisciplinary process that uses photography and video. Her photographs have been published in National Geographic, the New Yorker, and the New York Times.

Robert Ormerod Photographer

Robert Ormerod is a photographer interested in telling stories. He is based in Scotland, working across the U.K. for titles such as National Geographic, The Guardian Saturday magazine, The New York Times, T Magazine, The Wall Street Journal, and Bloomberg Businessweek.

Tom Craig Photographer

Tom Craig is a photographer and director whose work has been featured in Vogue, i-D, and Vanity Fair. His work is driven by a desire to tell stories and the urge to travel. His work often blurs the line between fashion photography and straightforward reportage.

**Full article from @departures www.departures.com

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ettawritesnstudies · 9 months ago

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Since I couldn't accept all the applications for interviews, I wanted to shout out a couple of the titles that didn't make the cut! These don't quite fit my target audience but that being said, I think the indie community should have solidarity regardless of age category and genre, so I still want to help y'all with promotion however I can!

If you want to support some cool authors, you can check out their books here, and if you want to support me, you can watch through my playlist backlog of interviews. My channel isn't monetized yet but the watch hours certainly wouldn't hurt lol

If you want to see the lineup for the rest of the year, you can sign up for my newsletter! I'll be sharing the list at the end of the month!

Oak King Holly King by Sebastian Nothwell @nothwell

queer romantasy; historical fantasy; adult

Shrike, the Butcher of Blackthorn, is a legendary warrior of the fae realms. When he wins a tournament in the Court of the Silver Wheel, its queen names him her Oak King - a figurehead destined to die in a ritual duel to invoke the change of seasons. Shrike is determined to survive. Even if it means he must put his heart as well as his life into a mere mortal’s hands. Wren Lofthouse, a London clerk, has long ago resigned himself to a life of tedium and given up his fanciful dreams. When a medieval-looking brute arrives at his office to murmur of destiny, he’s inclined to think his old enemies are playing an elaborate prank. Still, he can’t help feeling intrigued by the bizarre-yet-handsome stranger and his fantastical ramblings, whose presence stirs up emotions Wren has tried to lock away in the withered husk of his heart. As Shrike whisks Wren away to a world of Wild Hunts and arcane rites, Wren is freed from the repression of Victorian society. But both the fae and mortal realms prove treacherous to their growing bond. Wren and Shrike must fight side-by-side to see who will claim victory - Oak King or Holly King.

Spirits and Sunflowers by A.D. Armistead @adarmisteadwrites

MM adult contemporary fantasy romance

Devastated by the recent death of his husband, Adrian has been relying upon his necromantic gifts to try and bridge the gap between the living and the dead, feeling more and more like a ghost himself with each failure. After a young girl named Tula with an uncanny ability approaches Adrian on a visit to the cemetery, he begins to hope that the husband he lost may still be within reach. Over time, he falls into an easy friendship with Tula’s father, Lucas Halpern. As Adrian is drawn into the orbit of the handsome, mysterious single father, Adrian begins to emerge from his grief, wondering whether it’s possible to find love again. Together, in a contemporary world laced with magic, Adrian embarks on a journey in recovering from loss, building trust, and finding love and family where they are least expected. Spirits & Sunflowers is the first book in the Maligned Magic series, a group of cozy queer romances set in an alternate version of our world. There, magic is tightly regulated by a distant and inflexible organization. All stories can be read as standalone novels, but benefit from reading the previous books in the series in order.

Hills of Heather and Bone by K.E. Andrews (@/k.e.andrews on IG)

Fantasy, adventure, cozy dark fantasy

Hills of Heather and Bone The bones of the dead hold stories.

On the fringes of Errigal, Morana longs to exchange a life of hiding for a peaceful one with her husband, Percy. While Percy's bloodgift lets him grow plants and heal broken bodies, Morana's a boneweaver, despised and feared because she can hear bones and raise the dead. Morana doesn't want to be seen as a villain from the old stories and instead spends her time gardening, writing the stories of the dead, and fending off a spiteful chicken.

Morana and Percy's lives are shattered when a group of Failinis tasked with capturing boneweavers and rogue bloodgifted find them. On the run and battling the elements, ancient creatures, and the loss of all they called home, Morana and Percy search for any sanctuary left in Errigal. Morana must choose between the call in her blood or the family she holds so close to her heart if she and Percy are to survive.

Please be aware that this book contains some scenes of violence, death, depression, mentions of miscarriage, birthing scenes, suicidal thoughts, suicide, and cannibalism

Keep Me Breathing by U.R. Holm

Soft Sci-Fi/Subterrainean/Adult

Keep Me Breathing

Fubuki has no reason to leave the comfort of her home. No desire to see the cave system outside.

Sakura has no desire to stay put. Even as a single mom, she brings her son with her on her travels. But when her son goes missing, Fubuki joins her across the cave system to find him.

The pair is joined by Alexandr, the alternative drummer, and Casey, the fraud who insists he wants to help.

In the search for the boy they all have to face their own personal struggles and insecurities. And while they travel to find the boy, the boy is fighting his own battles against his captors and in a world between adults and children.

While Keep Me Breathing is a novel with fantastical elements, it's even more a novel about friendship, love and familiar bonds.

#etta rambles #writeblr #other people's writing #writeblr community #love you romantasy gang #you're so creative and cool and I love what you've done for the indie publishing space as a whole #but as an aroace middle grade writer #I simply cannot keep up 😅#You are like the cool kids clique in the high school cafeteria and I'm busy catching flies in the bathroom to feed my praying mantids #true story

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kinderartifact4 · 1 year ago

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First post on my Magic AU! Someone was interested in it, so, before I start on answering that ask I thought I’d post the species I’ve assigned to the characters for now. Just the hosts, gen 1 cast, and Emma & Kitty for now. Quite a few of them don’t have additional info because I couldn’t think of anything significant.

Questions? Comments? Concerns?

Chris & Chef- Humans

+Chris still hosts TD

+They’re both pretty much the exact same

+Chris is a little bit nicer though

Blaineley- Human

Don- Human

Josh- Human

Noah- Angel

+Burrowing Owl Wings

+Mage (very skilled in magic)

+Telekinetic

+Dated Cody after WT, but he broke it off due to religious backlash.

+He knows how to speak demon

Cody- Ajror Demon

+Blue Jay Wings

+Genetic magic, like all demons

+Deathly afraid of Driders, specifically the giant variety, so Phobia Factor definitely plays out differently for him

+He got the Cone of Shame during World Tour

+The whole “mauled by a bear” thing happens a bit differently; that bear was also fighting for it’s life, it was an equal opportunity mauling

+Tried so hard to court Noah during action and WT, but he didn’t do so well because he tried to be somewhat subtle this time around but Noah didn’t know what demon courting customs looked like so it flew right over his head.

+Cody was the one who kickstarted the revolution that lead to the war.

+His mother’s side of the family is Ajror nobility, so by default Cody is also nobility.

Emma & Kitty- Angels

+Magpie Wings

+Emma knows how to use a sword

+Kitty knows basic healing magic

+Emma and Jake’s break up played out differently in this AU

+To put it short, he was a specist prick who made it very clear he thought Emma looked better without her wings (for context, an Angel without their wings looks exactly like a human)

+Emma definitely still had her own flaws, but still

Eva- Satyr

Izzy- Halfbreed

+3/4 Demon, 1/4 Naga

+Tokë Demon(plant variety)

+One thing she got from being part Naga is her sense of smell; she can track people kinda like a bloodhound

Heather- Drider

+Magical knowledge is limited to making herself look more human

+Glamour magic, if you will

+Wild-Born

+She basically domesticated herself

+Type of venom is non-lethal, aka paralyzing

+She HAD siblings when she was little

Alejandro- Human

+Doesn’t have magic during the show, but discovers he has a magic ability known as “leeching” during the war

Sierra- Human

Duncan- Neko

+Lives up to his species ‘thief’ stereotype

+Really good at what he does too

Gwen- Naga

+Wild-Born

+Still claustrophobic, which is ironic because wild nagas typically live in burrows

+Uses glamour magic to make herself look more human

Owen- Naga

+Not Wild-Born

+Uses glamour magic

Trent- Mer

+Siren subspecies

+Uses magic through singing, but can also channel it through instruments

Bridgette- Mer

Justin- Elf

Ezekiel- Harpy

+Nobody likes him that much because of how his species is viewed, Noah especially

+Tries too hard to show he’s nothing like how his kind is depicted

DJ- Human

Courtney- Human

Leshawna- Human

Geoff- Human

Harold- Human

+No magic, typical human

+However he knows a lot about the other species customs and cultures and such

Tyler- Satyr

Lindsay- Faun

Beth- Human

Katie- Mer

Sadie- Mer

+Lion fish

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