#witch!Au

[arcane-vagabond]

Together, Transformed Masterlist

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Witch!Reader

Summary: In turn of the century America, long before the Revolutionary War was even a thought in anyone’s mind, a small village was home to a most beloved and respected healer. When jealousy begets feelings of maliciousness, you are accused of witchcraft. Centuries later, you live your life as a normal, everyday witch, but even you have to admit that strange things tend to happen to you sometimes. It all comes to a head when you meet a strange man who seems to know all about you. (Witch!AU)

Series Content Warning: Semi-dark fic, Witchcraft, Demons, Black Magic, Reincarnation, Immortality, Blood, Sacrifices, Evil Spirits, Historical Inaccuracies, Angst, Fluff, Smut. Individual chapters will have their own warnings.

All posts related to this series will be tagged with "Together Transformed" and "TT."

*Denotes smut.

Meet our heroine!

Masterlist

Series;

Prologue

Chapter One (Coming Soon)

Drabbles;

Nothing to see here yet...

Headcanons;

Nothing to see here yet...

[fred-the-god]

Remus drops by Janus after bothering the others

They're talking about Virgil

Idk I just thought Janus acting like he hates Virgil, but being extremely concerned if he's actually seriously hurt, storming out to see him even if he's in the middle of his skincare routine.

[aetlasx]

prologue

pair: eddie munson x witch!reader

summary: Ah, memories. You journal your first day of high school, but things quickly take a turn just a few weeks later.

tw: menstruation, pad/tampons, bullying, name calling (pls lmk if there’s anything I missed)

a/n: just stick with me lol. he’ll be in the first part. Also, this is an AU!! For spooky season!! thank you so much for reading!!

*the chat font is the diary entry and it goes back to normal at the end*

August 22nd, 1983 It's been a few months since i've written in this thing. I thought it'd be a good time to start now since I finally made it to high school!

You know what that means? Four more years till I leave this shithole!! Better than five. June was actually waiting by the door when I got home, she really wanted to hear every detail of how it went. I told her about my classes, I have Jonathan in two and Nancy in several. I told her how the school and people were so different from anything I was used to. But, it doesn't take her long to find something wrong with the way I think. She started with her usual warnings and advice, all the things I need to avoid, all the mistakes I shouldn't make. I know she's just trying to protect me, but it feels like she can never have trust in her little sister.

On the other hand, at least Teddy asked if I had fun. He's always been the one who knows how to lighten the mood, especially knowing how his wife is. He asked about my teachers and any clubs that looked cool enough to join. He even asked about Jonathan and Nancy.

Jonathan was definitely not as excited as me. He's quite, but he's always been that way.I know that his mom was excited for his first day of high school, she even convinced him to bring his camera. Right now, I'm trying to convince him to join the newspaper but he just shrugs me off. And Nancy, well, although it's been one–girl is practically glow. Within just 8 hours of the school day, she was able to meet a boy. She kept gushing about him and is pretty excited for the rest of the school year here. I'm genuinely happy for her.

Before June could add her two cents, I interrupted her with how I stopped by Aunt Claudia's after school to see how Dustin's day went. He was already sprawled out on the couch, 'exhausted' from fighting with his new math teacher. It had been a bit since I had seen them, I slaved away my summer at my job so stopping by, I felt grateful that they weren't even mad. I'll have to start hanging out with him again.

Anyways, I’m determined to make the most of freshman year with my friends. I’m ready to prove that I’m more than just a product of this stupid town.

Wish me luck!!

September 16th, 1983

I think I lied. I don’t know where to start…but a four year wait is too long. I don’t know where it all went wrong but it started over the weekend.

Sometimes I’d like to think that if my mom was still around, this wouldn’t have happened. Hell, June is like my mom, why did it happen. I’m talking about mother nature’s gift. It seemed as though no on thought to inform me that a girls first period would be this chaotic.

Nance and I had a movie night planned. I hadn’t really talked to her much, only in class, because her new boy toy or whatever—Steve Harrington, was taking up most of her time. I thought this would be a good time to just catch up and gossip, I was wrong. That Friday was horrible. I ended up throwing up, getting the chills, my body ached to no end. But I was still determined to make movie night happen, especially since June and Teddy were gone for the weekend.

As I was dying on the couch, Nancy finally showed up. But to my disappointment, it was only to cancel. Her and Steve were going out on their first date. I don’t know if it was how hot I was feeling or my intestines twisting, but black spots started clouding my vision. I just remember her screaming for Steve and once I knew it, I woke up in the hospital.

What I’m about to write, I’ll say with confidentiality…probably because I’m the only one reading this. Whatever.

A period is probably normal for all females. What’s not normal is having to go to the hospital and having your best friend’s boyfriend make fun of you because the doctor called you a late bloomer. I mean, she apologized but, if I could’ve just died on that bed, I wouldn’t be here.

Even June lectured me when I interrupted her weekend getaway. The whole ride home she kept complaining and saying ‘how could I not know’ and ‘you just gave us another unnecessary bill’. Like, sorry my baby’s natural response has ruined something for you.

Fuck. That’s not even the worst part. When Monday came back around, everyone was looking at me when I walked in. I know how cliche it sounds after what had just happened but knowing how popular Harrington was and who his friends were, he had already told the whole school by now. During gym, Carol and a few other girls threw pads and tampons at me. I got called ‘Bloody Mary’ and ‘Leak Freak’ in the hallways, at lunch, and anytime anyone had the chance. I tried to stay strong, I even hoped Nancy would say something to me during class or at least when she saw me but she just looked at me with sympathetic eyes. It’s just hard to believe that a few weeks ago, everything was fine. We were making fun of our teacher, gossiping with Barb, and even went shopping but I guess things change. Now when I look at her I’m just consumed with rage.

Jonathan has been supportive, though. The evening I got out of the hospital, he had actually brought over some of my favorite snacks and listened to me cry all night. Even when the mocking was bad, he’s stuck by my side. He’s told some kids to fuck off, walks me to class, and I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong but knowing that I have to wake up and go through it again doesn’t really ease my pain.

I feel like my chances of making friends and actually joining some clubs are ruined. When I try talking to some new, they give me dirty looks. When I go to ask about different clubs, they turn me away. I’ve lost hope. Thought this was suppose to be a fresh start but I guess not.

And just to add more salt to the wound, I haven’t been able to sleep. Every time I close my eyes and drift to away, I’m met with such an unsettling environment. The atmosphere is thick, groggy, red. It’s coated in fog, but a man I’ve never seen before always walks through it. He says his name is Henry, he starts talking about my worries and pain. It’s always the same—he says he’s ‘there to help me’, he’s there to ‘take away the pain because he knows what it’s like’. I truly don’t know what has caused my subconscious to create things like this but I guess I’m just tired of feeling like shit.

I don’t even know why I bother keeping a journal around. Sometimes I feel like I won’t even be here in the future to reminisce on the shitty days like this. Why would I even? I guess it’s just easier to write these things down than having to say them out loud. I thought I’d be able to make my sister, aunt, cousin, and friends proud, but I’m starting to think I’m just not cut out for this.

Closing the diary, the blonde places it back in the shoebox you hid it in. Pushing it back under your bed, standing from the place he sat. A satisfied smirk on his face.

He’d been following your turmoil closely, knowing that this was just the turning point. Your struggles were feeding into his plans. This entry was straw that broke the camels back—your vulnerabilities, your fears, and your desperations. It was almost too easy.

“Your suffering is almost poetic,” Henry said to himself, walking out of your room, your house, determined to take action now. He planned to finally confront you, to force you to acknowledge the full extent of what your destiny could be with his help—with what he had to offer.

[kingkat12]

safe pt.2 (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: mild violence, foul language

summary: witches and upirs can't be together... right?

word count: 1,393 (part one: here!)

a/n: leave it up to me to be a sucker for angst... inspired by a request from @mentallyscreamingsincebirth which I haven't been able to get out of my head!!

As I finally got home, I slid down my door, slumping down on the ground with a sigh as I threw away my purse in the hallway. My head was pounding and my heart was beating so hard, I was afraid I'd get a heart attack sooner or later. This is not what I wanted. Not at all. I didn't want to distance myself from Roman, to never feel his lips against mine again, to watch him date some other girl in a few weeks just to have someone on his arm. The whole ordeal was making me sick.

I sniffled, getting up from the ground. I needed to pull myself together-- I was only doing what was best for us. For everyone. Olivia Godfrey knew that there was a witch in town, and it could definitely lead to no good. The conflict between our kinds had been going on for centuries, both sides having lost more than we could spare. It ran deep, and it was a wound in which I had practically thrown salt by showing up at her home. 

I couldn't believe that my biggest fear had come true-- my senses had been right all along. My boyfriend was a upir as well. 

It was in this moment that I heard footsteps coming from the kitchen. Fuck. Was this Olivia Godfrey coming to rip my head off and put it on a spike? I scoured my brain-- what could kill a upir? It was fire, wasn't it? I had read all about this over the weekend after the dinner at Roman's place, keeping myself prepared for anything. Alert, I conjured a flame, keeping it contained in my hands as I took wary steps further down my hallway. 

Making my way through the living-room, I wondered why I couldn't feel her presence. Because this was definitely her, right? My hands were shaking as my senses heightened, ready for battle. 

And just as I turned the corner, ready to face whomever it was in my kitchen, I didn't waste a single second; I cast out the fire, not bothering to see who it was before charring the counter, quickly catching onto the fact that the intruder had dodged my attack with unmatched speed. 

The anger in me rose-- I hated the chase. "Fight me, then! Whoever you are!" I grabbed a nearby pan, needing another weapon, not wanting to burn my whole house down. I took another lap around the house, checking every room, taking wary steps to not get myself killed. 

When I suddenly caught another glimpse of the inhumanly fast silhouette, the chase led me back to my living room. For some reason, the infiltrator stopped and I took the opportunity; I raised the pan, kicking off the ground, ready to cast another fire-spell as I finally struck the enemy dead-on. 

This was when I realized who it was.

Completely unfazed at the blow taken to the back of his head, Roman turned to me, looking beyond calm. Except for his eyes, of course-- his pupils were completely blown, the black almost covering the green in his eyes. "I knew you'd do that," he said, gaze hardening. "Since when was your first reaction to burn people to death?"

I couldn't breathe. I seriously couldn't breathe. My eyes widened beyond my control, taking a shaky step back as I let the pan fall to the floor. 

Reacting, Roman took a step forward; "We need to talk,"

"You-- You need to leave," I hated that I was scared of him now. Now that he figured out I was a witch, was he here to retaliate? 

His upir senses definitely told him that I was about to run, suddenly lunging forward to grab me, holding my hands clasped behind my back as he laid me down on the ground. 

"No, Roman!" I yelled, thrashing against his grip, my pulse going through the roof. I couldn't believe how strong he was and how little power I suddenly had against him. "Let me go, stop it!" I could burn him to pieces, of course, but this was Roman. I loved this man. I let out another cry, trying to fight him, but to no avail. 

Roman groaned, clearly fed up with me. He put a certain amount of weight on me, keeping me down. "Burn me, for all you want. I could rip your head off before you get the chance, anyway,"

My breath hitched as I felt a sob build in my throat. "You don't mean that, Roman, let me go!"

"I'm not here to fucking kill you, could you relax?" With a sigh, I finally felt his grip around me lessen, but only just a little. "Can we talk now?"

"No!" I cried, letting my body go limp against the cold floor. "You need to go! She can't smell me on you, Roman, please!--"

I felt Roman's grip tighten once more; this time, to make sure it hurt. "Listen to me," he said, agitated. "You think I can't protect myself against my own mother? You think I need a fucking protection spell? She's docile for now, like a goddamn lamb. Why do you think I even brought you home in the first place? I just wanted to show you that I take you seriously." He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear; "I told you, this is not how this is going to work. You don't get to push me away. Do you understand me?"

I shook my head, heavily in denial. 

"No?" Roman rolled his eyes, fed up. "Alright, let me go about it another way." He let go of my hands, rolling off of me. I immediately scrawled away from him on the floor, panting-- I didn't want to make another rash decision to run. I knew he could outrun me easily, and I knew my wrists were going to bruise anyways. 

Suddenly, Roman grabbed my chin with force, forcing me to look at him as he spoke through gritted teeth; "You don't need to protect me. And you don't get to decide that this is over on your own. Is that clear?"

This was not the Roman I knew. I had never known him to be so harsh, insistent-- I grabbed his arm, hoping to wry his grip off of me. I grew desperate, my eyes rounding out as they met his. "We can't be together--"

"Yes, we can," Roman's grip lessened, the green in his eyes returning as he turned sincere. "Fuck history, we can. I'm not letting this go just because you're scared. If you're scared, you need to tell me. You need to let me help you."

I felt myself tear up. "You know what I am," I breathed, my voice dying out at the end. "And I know what you are. I can't fall for you any more than I already have, Roman, you know that. Now that your mom knows there's a witch in town, she'll come for me, no matter how docile you think she is--"

"And what makes you think I'm going to let her do that?" Roman shot in, brows furrowing in concern. "You really think I'd just stand by and let it happen?"

"Roman, stop it..." My heart sunk. "Don't give me hope--"

"No, have hope," He finally let go of me. "I've got you. And you've got me. No matter the history between our kind, we're good together." Gently, Roman took my hands into his, sighing at the sight of the red traces around my wrist. "Don't push me away. I'm not a child." He brought my hands up to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "I want you safe as much as you want me safe. How can I protect you when you won't let me?"

I had been so swept up in protecting everyone else, I hadn't really thought about the fact that someone might want to protect me. I let out a shaky breath, somehow finding myself agreeing to this; "I just... didn't think you'd want to be with me if you knew who I was,"

Scoffing, Roman shot me a look; "Right back at 'ya,"

I sighed, his words mending my wounds. "Maybe... it doesn't matter what we are? Maybe it's a good thing?"

"You're right, it doesn't matter. I don't really care what we are either-- Or, well," He shrugged, a slight smile spreading across his lips. "I care that you're mine. That's all."

[klodwig]

"Kylo has a wonderful family - everyone around him is very friendly, they exist like a small community or something like that. But he still felt terribly lonely at times."

witch!AU

[nympheaecaea]

୨ৎ where him and i meet ୨ৎ

SUMMARY ୨ৎ park wonbin stumbles upon a magical hotel and meets the girl of his dreams (literally). OR witches, elves, shapeshifters and gods run a hotel.

PAIRING ୨ৎ god!park wonbin x witch!yn

GENRE ୨ৎ fantasy, fluff, slow burn, eventual smut

FANDOM ୨ৎ riize, nct, red velvet

when yn woke up, she tasted it in the air. something was amiss with that day. 

on the weekends, she ought to wake up early. from mondays to fridays she’d sleep until the sun was in the north and the birds were no longer singing, and when she’d get up, the table would’ve been laid and lunch prepared. but on the weekends, yn was asked to eat breakfast before. thus, she woke up early on the first day of the rest of her life. 

the sun was already up, chalky and chilly, yet bright in the wintry morning. yn's home was still, where there should’ve been the pandemonium of timed errands, there was only the void of those who had left. she enjoyed that stillness. rising from bed, she pulled the silky covers and tidied the embroidered pillows–her covers weren’t stretching enough and her pillows weren’t fluffing up enough. if it weren’t for that stillness, sohee, her younger brother, would’ve barged in, plopping himself on the mattress and rolling around on top of her plushies, sungchan would’ve followed, picking the fluffiest ones to punch, withal, she found haechan to be the worst of them, he’d talk and talk and talk. for that, she enjoyed that stillness. yn smoothed her dress and braided her hair–her dress wasn’t fitting as well and her hair wasn’t curling as much.

downstairs, the morning was awakening with the ushered lull of chirping and whispering, the footsteps that scattered and the glassware that clattered. yn joined her housemates at the table–it was a glossy mahogany, so vast it could’ve fitted a village, with a surface strategically covered in breakfast foods: bowls of rice and soup, platters of meat and pancakes, and the herbal tea irene would brew for their spirit. 

“good morning, dearest.” irene, who had been engrossed in her newspaper, greeted the girl. “did you sleep well?” she asked softly, her voice always a solemn whisper. she took a drag of her pipe, the flowery smoke surrounding them. irene was a witch of primeval blood: she dried flowers to put in her pipe and brew in her tea, believing that it would connect her to the land and make her spirit stronger, she had a willowy black cat, who ran errands for her in the human world and read the morning paper, and she liked to hunt. but never animals. 

“like a baby,” yn assured her. before she could return the question, however, seulgi pushed through the swinging doors with her hip, her steps careful and eyebrows furrowed with all the concentration she had to not spill the plate and cup she carried. “there,” she sighed, as she settled both in front of yn. “a full english breakfast with freshly processed apple juice.” she smiled charmingly, her cheeks rising with a tangerine glow. “and!” she started adding, “i made it from scratch, no sorcery, at all!” seulgi finished, bouncing slightly on her feet with excitement. 

haechan, who had been silent–a blessing that yn had come to find only happened when he ate–, scoffed at that. seulgi could glide so lightly on her feet, she wouldn’t leave footsteps on snow, and she was a powerful fighter, but, oh, so graceful, it was as if she was dancing with her opponents. yet, she channeled her spirit as a newborn deer walking on its wobbly legs; sparks, blasts, and domestic fires. irene was the one to care for her, calmly dabbing a hand enchanted by runes over the flames and giving her a drag of her pipe. she was also the one to glare at the boys when they snarked, shutting haechan before he could even interject. 

yn gathered the different ingredients of her breakfast plate in a bite, and even as she chewed the rushes of flavour, she could not stop tasting the wrongfulness of the day. she decided to ask, even if she feared the answer: “say, auntie, where is uncle taeil?” she had noticed the moment she went down the stairs, taeil had not been there with his gigantic crochet sweaters and his freckled cheeks rising with his blinding smiles to greet her. 

irene took a sharp breath and put down her pipe. “left this morning,” she only said, knowing that yn would understand. “didn’t even say goodbye, that sappy bastard…” she rolled the dampness off her eyes and raised her pipe back to her cherry red lips. 

taeil’s departure would be the beginning. 

yn knew his day would eventually come, as it would irene’s, as it would hers and as it had her mother’s. just the same, she wasn’t prepared for it. 

all magical beings were called into the draft. eventually, a pigeon would deliver a letter, an apparition would come in dreams, a knight would ride to the door knocker, and eventually, they’d be sent away. yn hadn’t always feared the draft, dreaded it, perhaps, but not feared. the day a cat had squished through her window, a small package in its mouth that demanded her mother, as if she were nothing more than a weapon, had fulminated the fear. her mother never came back then, even when she sat at the table eating dinner, she was still gone. 

on monday a tiny little imp had waddled through the temple, irene swinging an elven axe in her hand at the sight of it, and taeil understood his turn had come. it had lingered in the air then, the loathing that taeil had tried to hide, but they could see. the way his smile was tightlipped, that of longing, the way his eyes were watery, those of regret. it was in the air, how he’d dance with sungchan and sing with haechan till late, so late, irene would tell the youngsters to go to bed, only to join taeil after, the way he’d ruffle sohee’s chocolate hairs and bake him cookies, or the way he’d stay in the silence with yn, just them in their own warm summery bubble, napping like cats stretched in the sun. they’d miss him, they’d miss him a lot. because, even if he came back, he’d never be the same. 

“they’re back,” irene said, the darkness of her locks swinging as she turned to the door that led to their backyard. those opened in no second, and through them johnny and sungchan walked in, both covered in a thin coat of sweat and a blush from the gelid air. “good morning boys, how was the run?” she asked them. 

“wondrous!” sungchan replied excitedly, “the weather is lovely, and the streets were so empty, i could shift into anything!” he declared, taking a seat next to yn and nudging a piece of her fried egg to himself. 

johnny nodded through the younger’s words, busying himself with filling a tall cup of dark coffee. “hey,” he started, and oh no… “why did the morning coffee never talk to the herbal drinks?” he asked into the silence that had reached the room, “because they weren’t his cup of tea!” he finished with a cackle. 

like irene, her aunt, yn was a witch of primeval blood. she had lived the beginning of her life by a river. there, she spent her noons learning and reading, entertained by the wandering spirits; the naiads, who would braid her hair and sing about the wonders of corporeal warmth, the kirin who would come to her window to watch her play the violin until her jaw was bruised, the pixies who would bring her flower crowns that would tangle against her mahogany curls, and when the moon would rise in the sky painted by veils of green and purple lights, her mother would come with baskets of the “outside”. she had always known there was another world out there, one with a roaring of engines and clocks, but she had preferred the world of her own creation, her, her mother, her aunts and, sometimes, a nice man that would bring her dolls. 

and then, the cat came. 

not a month later, she had left her small, sweet world behind. yn had followed baechu, irene’s familiar, carrying a violin case in her back and a luggage from the outside with her essentials: books so chunky she had to sit on the case to close it, gowns and bows sewed from the softest of the silks, and gifts from her unearthly friends. they had rushed through the train station, the small girl garnering looks from the passersby, old ladies who asked her questions and young boys who wanted to hold her braid. she had, of course, cried through it all. the engines and the clocks and the people and the tick tock tick tock and the click clack click clack. 

so, like irene, she came from a long line of primeval witches, and she still didn’t understand things like morning runs or johnny’s jokes. 

“it’s almost time to open up,” seulgi said looking at the watch on her wrist. “what is the schedule for today?” her eyes settled on sohee, who instantly opened a heavy book and pointed. 

the younger boy, opposed to the boyishness his features still carried, was in charge. “we’re starting to get busier with the spring equinox coming, but there is not much to do today. i think we can have the day off.” he announced, finishing with a docile smile.

“and, hopefully, we’ll have somebody new come in before the spring equinox begins.” irene said, standing from her seat and smoothing her inky skirt that covered her to her feet. irene liked long, dark clothes, the sort of clothes that made kids point at her and say ‘mommy, look, witch!’. seulgi joined her, a contrast of darkness and colourfulness, whereas irene was elegant and dainty, seulgi was fresh and boyish, with youthful freckles and mandarin hair that sat at the top of her head showing her pointed ears with gold assets. 

“it’s time.” sohee told them, eyes on the watch. 

when the clock striked 10a.m, the temple opened. 

coming soon...

[thediktatortot]

Witch Eddie Munson who's spells are created in his music sheets. He Imbues his magic into his notes progressions so that anyone who plays his music can carry on his magic for all eternity.

Witch Billy Hargrove who's spells are never written down, but they filter through his voice and the smoke of his cigarettes when he works. He does magic for himself and on the rare occasion, the people he loves.

Witch Steve Harrington who's spells are imbued into his name, carrying the power with him through notoriety and socializing. With each uttered breath of his name from a lover, he is at his strongest.

[lavendertwilight89]

My Head, My Heart

Hello everyone! Welcome to a spooky installment for @inu-spiration #5!!! The lovely and talented @clearwillow made an AMAZING piece of art that just immediately screamed to a witch!au!

Hope you all enjoy!

Click here to read on AO3

[kr0wnnn]

A dump of my sketches for my obsession with Declan and Matt being totally in love. I took a plot concept that I originally had about my witch OCs!! It was actually really nice to keep the idea alive but give it to a new obsession of mine and a new life!! Maybe when I go deeper into its concept I’ll be able to write a whole deep dive on it.

[arcane-vagabond]

Together, Transformed: Prologue

Together, Transformed: Prologue

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Witch!Reader

Summary: In turn of the century America, long before the Revolutionary War was even a thought in anyone’s mind, a small village was home to a most beloved and respected healer. When jealousy begets feelings of maliciousness, you are accused of witchcraft. Centuries later, you live your life as a normal, everyday witch, but even you have to admit that strange things tend to happen to you sometimes. It all comes to a head when you meet a strange man who seems to know all about you. (Witch!AU)

Content Warning: Betrayal, Mentions of Witchcraft, Trials, Death, Burning at the stake, Curses, Crying, General feelings of despair, Executions. I think that's everything, but please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

The wind whipped around you, biting into your skin and sending a shiver up your spine. Your dress did little to protect you from the elements, having put it on when the weather was still warm, but here you now stood, the cusp of autumn in front of you with a wooden pole to your back. Your hair had been shorn from your head, your lip split from where the guard had back handed you that morning.

Your cheek still throbbed at the memory of it.

The sun was hidden behind a wall of clouds above you, a rather fitting scene given where you found yourself now. The sky threatened rain at any moment, and for a moment you wondered if it would save you from your doom or prolong it.

Dirt caked your skin, causing an itchy sensation that somehow bothered you more than the predicament you currently found yourself in. It was a spot by your nose that bothered you in particular, but with your hands bound to the post behind you, there was little you could do but suffer in silence.

The wind blew once more, ruffling the skirts of your dress, and you gritted your teeth as you pressed your eyes together. You would not show these people weakness.

You opened your eyes once more to gaze upon the sea of faces that stared back. Some you knew well, their faces grim if they weren’t streaming with tears. Neighbors you had helped on more than one occasion with your healing knowledge. It wasn’t your born gift, but your family specialized in the practice, and you had shown an adept talent for it since a young age. Your family and other gifted folk had all marveled at your talents, calling you a prodigy.

Though you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they were there—hiding beneath the dark shadows of their cloaks. You knew none would come to your aid, it simply wasn’t the gifted folk’s way. Helping meant exposure for all, and exposure meant certain death—a death you were moments away from facing.

Amidst the familiar faces were those you had seen in passing if you had seen them at all. It wasn’t every day a witch was to be burned for her heresy, and several people—men, women, and children—had made the journey from neighboring towns and villages to watch the spectacle. Sneers of contempt and looks of derision were pointed your way, and you wondered briefly if they would still feel this way were they to learn about the good you had done, the healing and kindness you had brought to others.

Your name rang out amidst the silence, drawing your attention towards the stage where the magistrate and his lackeys sat, their black robes and ill-fitted wigs giving them an air of false superiority as they looked at you with their dark, beady eyes.

“You have been charged with the crime of witchcraft for which you have been found guilty,” continued the magistrate, his voice booming for all in the courtyard to hear. You fixed him with a cold stare, smirking slightly at the subtle twitch by his eye before he averted his gaze back down to the paper he held in his hand. You let out a quiet snort as he continued, a small tremor to his voice.

“You shall be burned at the stake until none of you remains, your ashes thrown in the river, your belongings seized by the government. Your belongings shall be donated to the church, the flames of the fire shall cleanse you of your sins and wrongdoings.”

He paused lowering the page to look at you once more, thin lips down-turned so that they pulled on his sagging skin.

“Have you anything to say?” He asked, lifting his chin at you. You fixed him with a glare, keeping your mouth clamped tightly. Nothing would free you from these binds, so nothing you would say. The magistrate took a deep breath before looking down at the executioner, a stout man who held a lit torch in one hand, and nodded. The executioner stepped forward slowly, a frown on his lips as he made his way through the parting crowd. He stopped at the base of your pyre, flames of the torch flickering in the wind as he stared at the ground. You had helped his wife deliver their firstborn child only the year before, both mother and babe alive with your help.

“It’s not right,” he muttered, fists clenching at his sides. “It’s not fair.”

You grimaced and blew out a breath slowly.

“I know,” you whispered back to him. “But you do what you must.”

He glanced up at you, a sheen to his eyes that wasn’t there before. You stared at each other for a long moment until finally, his lips pressing tight with a firm nod. He turned back towards the magistrate, waiting for his queue. The magistrate dipped his head, raising a hand in permission. The executioner squared his shoulders, turning to you once more, and with a slight tremor in his hands, he lowered the torch down to the bundle of sticks at your feet.

“May God have mercy on your soul,” the magistrate called, rolling the paper up in his withered grip. You sucked in a sharp breath, your heartbeat thundering away in your chest as the flames grew to surround you from all sides. You would not show fear. You would show your strength to these people who would see you die.

Smoke began to billow, and the embers burned at the back of your throat, causing a choking cough to spill out past your lips. The heat was already uncomfortable, and your head grew dizzy from the combination of licking flame and choking smog.

“No!”

You looked up, your heart sinking in your chest as a familiar flash of blond streaked through the crowd. He shouldn’t be there, it wasn’t safe. A sob escaped you unbidden, tears licking at your eyes as you watched him race towards you. Several guards stopped his path, pushing him back towards the crowd, and he stumbled for a moment before righting himself. He glared at the guards, stomping up towards them with malice clear in his eyes.

“Let me through,” he barked, fists clenched at his sides. “Let her go. She’s done nothing wrong!”

Another sob wracked through you, the magistrate’s voice an echo in your ears.

“She’s a witch, boy,” he snarled. “She’s bewitched you. Her death will free you, rest assured.”

“No!” He shouted, rushing forward, skin flushed with exertion. You felt despair rip through you, your arms aching to reach out to him, to tell him that everything would be okay. Green eyes met yours, emotions swirling in their depths as you offered him a weak smile.

Your head grew dizzy as you breathed in more of the smoke. You hissed as the flames made their rapid ascent up towards you, licking the tips of your toes. You closed your eyes, letting your head drift back to hit against the post. Your head lolled to one side, another sob tearing through you as the flames grew bigger, bolder.

A menacing sensation crawled through you, and you brought your head forward once more, peeling your eyes open to meet sinister blue from the depths of the crowd. Her golden hair was hidden beneath her cloak, a mocking smirk on her face as she stared at you. Anger replaced despair as you looked at her, your body lurching forward as you snarled in rage.

“You!” You shouted, murmurs of confusion following your outburst. It was her fault you were here. Her betrayal of her own kind. And for what? Her own envy? Her lust?

“May your hatred and envy be the makings of your undoing,” you spat, a familiar surge of power rising through you as you spoke. You could barely get the words out before the flames began to overtake you. You cried out at the excruciating pain, shuffling your feet back as far as you could in a bid to escape the roaring flames. Your eyes searched wildly, your vision blurring at the edges as the smoke grew thicker and thicker. Finally, you found what you were looking for, and your heart ached for him.

“I love you,” you sobbed, a scream tearing through your throat as the flames finally cornered you.

Screams were all you heard before succumbing to darkness.

A/N: And here it is! Just in time for spooky season!! I'm super excited to work on this one, and here's hoping I'll be able to work on it a fair amount over the next month. I'm not sure when I'll have Chapter One out, I'm still working some parts of the story out, but I'm excited still to share it with you all!! Let me know what you think!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[fred-the-god]

Au time continues, now featuring Remus

Belongs to previously mentioned unamed au

He’s a witch (like Virgil)

He has a pretty high amount of magic, but his raw magic is linked with Romans (they basically share the same magic battery) so that can be an issue sometimes. He is fairly skilled with his magic, he may not know a lot of normal spells, but he gets creative with it.

He is constantly fighting the urge to get more piercings, but his current facial piercings are: right eyebrow, bridge, nose, septum, smiley, snake bites, labret, and dimples. (All but one are ones my sister has/had) And he got 13 ear piercings

[aetlasx]

Paradox: 1

pair: eddie munson x witch!reader

summary: life as a teenage girl wasn’t all that it’s been chalked up to be…especially when a boy you’ve never met breaks your nose.

tw: jason being a dick & a broken nose (lmk if I missed anything!)

a/n: tysm for reading!!! i am sosososo sorry the first part took forever!! i’m working on the next part as we speak

- purple text = flashback

prev.

October 6th, 1983

*THIS IS NOT A DIARY*

“Are you kidding me?” You snort, “This is totally a diary.”

Dustin elbowed you in the ribs. He huffed as he focused once more at the composition he held in his hand.

*THIS IS NOT A DIARY*

*THIS IS A SCIENTIFIC JOURNAL*

Approximately 15 days ago, our prime subject was approached by a middle-aged Blonde Caucasian male. About 6 foot, blue eyes, formal attire, and an angelic innocence to him.

Our subject says that this individual would appear in her dreams until he eventually manifested, waiting for her at her place of employment, Elwood Records, wanting to offer her something.

A chill was sent down your spine. You tensed as you noticed the familiar blonde smiling from across the street, leaning against his car. You were closing and your coworkers had already headed home. The man from the hospital…from your dreams…finally waiting for you..

As you finally locked the door, you turned back around to see him motioning for you to get in. Everything in you told you to run for it but somehow your legs compelled to follow the notion. The car ride was short and quiet. Hawkins was dead for the night and even if you wanted to scream for help, there wasn’t even a soul out there to hear you.

We arrived at Lover’s Lake, we got out of the car and walked towards the bend of the river. The moonlight sparkled off the water.

After driving for a while, he finally pulled over. Only a few blocks from your house. He got out of the vehicle and began strolling down the street. Doing the same, you caught up to him. “It’s nice to finally see you again. He smiled warmly. His presence was almost suffocating. “I know your pain. I feel it.”

Swallowing nervously, your house was only a sprint away. You could hear your heart beating from your ears. He got in front of you, his dark eyes boring into you were a mix of intrigue and something darker. “You’re not like the others in this town, are you? They’ll never understand you—your friends, your family, they’ll never see you for who you truly are.” He paused, you let the words sink in, his gaze never leaving yours.

“But what I’m about to offer you, it’ll make you better than them. Better than you ever realized. You were made for so much more—you just haven’t reached your true potential yet.” He excitedly exclaimed, his grip finding your arms and squeezing them for reassurance. “Trust me, this is your chance.”

His words wrapped around you like a promise and a threat. However, your eyes drifted towards the slight movement near his cuff. A small black spider crawled from his sleeve. Flinching, his grip on you tightened, as your eyes darted back to his, his icy blue orbs kept you frozen under his spell. The spider scuttled down his hand and onto your arm. Before you could even react, it darted to towards your face and with a sudden, involuntary gasp, you felt the insect slip past your lips and down your throat.

Henry smiled, leaning in close as you choked back fear and revulsion. “With my help, you’ll be unstoppable.” You felt a heat spread through you, a terrifying surge of power.

She can’t remember going into her house or how she got into bed, but the next morning she woke up with the ability to move things with her mind. I have been helping her, to the best of my ability, tame these supernatural powers.

You and Dustin stood in the woods behind the high school. A few empty soda cans were lined up on a fallen log. The air was tense with anticipation. You focused on the first can, brow furrowing, you clenched your fist and the can crumpled with a sharp crunch. The next one followed just as easily, collapsing with a satisfying clench. Dustin watched with wide eyes, half in awe, half in nervousness.

Turning towards the last can, something in you shifted. A flash of anger surged within you—memories of the name calling, bullying, the lack of your best friend’s support, and the guy-wrenching feeling of being alone. You clenched your jaw, clenching your fist again, the can not crushing this time; it erupted. Flames shot out as it consumed the metal in the sudden burst of fire.

You stumbled back, shocked, your breath hitching in your throat. You heard Dustin yelp, taking cover behind a tree. His eyes darting back and forth between you and the can.

“That’s…new,” you mumbled, your voice tinged with a mix of fear and exhilaration. The fire flickered and died, leaving behind scorched metal and an uneasy silence. Turning back to glance at your cousin, the poor boy’s face was turned pale with a blend of admiration and fear. You weren’t going to tell him but whatever that was, it felt like it was no longer just yours—it was something darker, something that had been waiting to break free.

A new power has emerged. She can manipulate fire with her mind, and I can’t tell if it was an accident or something else. Before the flames erupted, she looked furious, like something inside her snapped.

Dustin shook out of his trance as he heard the bell echo in the distance. The two of you rushed back to your schools, bidding him a farewell. You wouldn’t know it but he watched as you entered your high school, gazing with admiration. But the literal spark in your eyes was new. He couldn’t shake the feeling your strength and control were tightrope walking between chaos and control.

As you walked into your first class, you shared it with Nancy. As you walked past her gaze, your eye briefly met hers, feeling the weight of your fractured friendship. In the moment, Nancy felt like she was staring into a mirror that reflected all hers unspoken words and regrets. She looked away, her head hanging low. You quickly took your seat on the opposite side of the room. Thinking about what had happened when you had first made the deal you did with Him…

It wasn’t like you meant to, you had barely gotten your powers. You clearly didn’t know what you were doing.

A few days after getting these powers, you decided to study at the library for a big test coming up. However, Steve, Tommy, and Carol had other plans when they cornered you, throwing taunts as a guilt ridden Nancy pleaded with them to stop. When they finally stopped, something in you snapped. As they turned to leave, a sudden but unintentional surge of power flowed through you. Focusing on the bookshelf they were passing, it quickly crashed down behind them—barely missing them. Books were scattered as they turned around, realizing they had barely escaped. You stood there stunned by what you had just done. Nancy had stared at you with wide eyes, a mixture of fear and sadness.

That’s when you decided to go to your cousin Dustin for help. Sure, he might be young, but he seemed into this kind of stuff. Granted it had only been several weeks but, he put in the work for sure. Showing you his endless superhero comics and comparing your power to theirs.

Luckily, after word had spread about the library incident, a lot of your torment died down. Maybe high school wasn't going to be bad so bad after all, but today was one of those days.

As you took your usually seat at lunch, you eyed the crowded cafeteria. Sometimes Jonathan would sit with you but he had been busy with a project which left you with your quirky acquaintance, Robin. You normally sat with her whenever he was busy, exchanging small talk and trading food from time to time. When you were done, bid goodbye to her and made your way to the trash. However, when you turned around to leave, Jason Carver stood in front of you eyeing you like prey.

"Not so fast," he sneered, you glared back at him as some of his other friends gathered. "Why the nasty face? I'm here for Chrissy, she needs a tampon. She can't find them anywhere in Hawkins since you sold them out." You felt the familiar sting of humiliation creep up your spine. Clenching your jaw, your knuckles turned white as you dug your nails into your palm.

"Funny, Carver." a unfamiliar voice called out behind you. He walked over to where you stood. You couldn't put your finger on it but you had seen him around. "With the way you're wanting them so bad it sounds like you're the one who's needing them."

You rage was finally bubbling over. You refocused your mind, reaching out in a desperate impulsive move. A subtle flicker of your powers and Jason's pants suddenly dropped to his ankles. Laughter erupted throughout the cafeteria as he fumbled to yank his pants back up, his face reddening with anger and emarrassment.

Jason lunged at you, but before he could, the boy tried to shield you, taking the strike that was meant for you. A crowd started gathering as the two boys went back and forth, but in the midst of chaos, Jason pushed your protector towards you causing his elbow to collide with your nose with a sharp crack. Blood dripped down your lip as you staggered back, stunned and dazed.

The crowd fell into a stunned silence as the principal shoved his way through shouting for order. Clutching your nose, the sting of both physical pain and humiliation settled within you again.

"Munson! Carver! In my office now!" The principal shouted, then turned towards you, "You too Vale."

Standing as you gripped the phone, hand wavering over the buttons, you paused for a brief moment. You couldn't call your sister, even though she was moody and overbearing, she would come in kicking and screaming. You couldn't call you aunt, she'd start to worry about Dustin and figure out you're not the greatest influence to be around.

"Would you just call someone please." the receptionist sighed in annoyance.

Finally punching in a number, you looked up through your watery eyes at the bruised and beaten up boys. Jason sat with his head low, eyes focused on his shoes and as for the one the principal named Munson, your eyes met for a moment. Why did he do that? You were positive that Jason bullies him too. But why now? Why you?

As you shuttered under his stare, the other line finally picked up, causing you to look away.

The soft hum of the ABBA played throughout the somber office. The ice that you held to on your nose beginning to annoy you. Glancing at the boy who broke your nose beside you, you finally got his name. Eddie Munson.

You sort of remember him from middle school, except he didn't have hair back then. Now he has a short messy mop of curls, maybe that's why. He would glance at you from time to time with remorse in his eyes.

Your attention shifted when the nurse called you back into her office.

"It's broken alright, thought it was bruised." you winced as she touched it.

You heard heavy rushed footsteps coming in through the door. Your out of breath brother in law, taken back by the sight. "A fight. Whoever got her did quiet the number. Every teenager’s dream right there—rhinoplasty." the nurse smirked.

"Ted–"

He walked over gently taking his face into your hands. Looking over at the crookedness of your nose. The bruising starting to darken your eyes.

"Are you mad?" you whisper, tears threatening to spill. "June would've...would've."

"Gone ballistic. I understand. It's okay." he softly smiled pulling you into a hug, "I'm just glad you're alright." It truly warmed your heart that at least someone, who was an adult, was on your side. "How'd this happen?"

You explained everything to him, subtly pointing at the boys with their respective guardians, as to how this all happened. The nurse eventually came in to set your nose as best as a high school nurse could. "The principal will see everyone in a minute."

Waiting around for a few more minutes, Teddy started humming and tapping his foot to the beat of "SOS". Turning towards him, you gave him a puzzled look. "Big ABBA fan?" you whisper.

He shook his head, "June is. She sang this the night that we met at the bar." he smiled warmly remembering the event. From what he had told you before, she was just a college student who would sing her heart out at the local bar and he was just a lawyer who needed a drink. But on the night they met, June described it as as ABBA song. "This is her favorite band ever." he added.

"She never plays it at the house?" you questioned

"She stopped listening to them, said they reminded her of happier times."

"When did she stop?" you ask as he finally looked back at you. His eyes said it all. She had clearly stopped enjoying them when she had to take you in. Maybe it was just a teenage thing but clearly, you ruined her life.

Finally, the principal came out to allow everyone into his cramped office.

“I was the one who broke her nose,” Eddie admitted. “I stood up for her, but Jason was the one who threw the first punch.

Jason’s father shot to his feet. “You see? It was this delinquent. Come on, Jason, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“With all due respect,” Teddy countered, “Carver, your son’s a menace—not just to my kid, but to others as well.”

Jason’s father sneered. “Watch it, Ted. I’ve got connections with the mayor, and as for you”—he pointed at the principal—“our hefty donations to this school will end if anything happens to my son.”

The principal cleared his throat, “Very well, suspension for—“

“Are you kidding me!?” Teddy shouted “How is that any fair?”

“You should be use to it Ted, it’s just the way that things work around here.” Jason’s dad gloated “it’s called justice.”

“Is suspension really necessary when Eddie was just defending her?” Eddie’s uncle interjected.

Teddy stood up, enraged, stomping over to the other man.

“Look Ted,” he started, “you’re not in a big city anymore. You’re in Hawkins. Face it. You’re nobody in the town. Word spreads fast about your little family and that freak of a kid—“

Fuming, Teddy stood and stomped over to Jason’s father.

“Face it, Ted,” Jason’s dad sneered, “you’re not in the big city anymore. This is Hawkins. You’re nobody here, and word’s spreading fast about your family and that freak kid of yours—”

Before he could finish, Teddy punched him hard, sending him crashing to the ground, unconscious.

Momentarily stunned by his own reaction, Teddy grabbed you by the shoulder. “Uh, right. Well, Principal, you can expect a generous Christmas donation from us—and from the Munsons!”

Without another word, he rushed you both out of the room. You laughed all the way to the car, still in disbelief over what had happened.

After a short drive to his office, you greeted the receptionist, then threw yourself onto the couch.

Teddy dropped into his chair, propped his feet on the desk, and lit a cigarette. “Listen,” he said, “you’ll have to come clean to June, but she can never know what I did.”

Eddie sat in his van, gazing at the glowing record store that illuminated the dark street. His cheek still radiated heat from the punch he took earlier, and he was grappling with everything that had gone down. He watched as you paced between the shelves, clutching vinyl records, your focus shifting from one album to another.

His uncle's words echoed in his mind. “Boy, you better apologize to her and do something nice for her! I can’t afford no nose job!”

Taking a deep breath, he noticed the building's lights flicker off, signaling closing time. You stepped outside, locking the door behind you. He exhaled, careful to not make a sound as he slowly approached.

From behind, he watched you study your reflection in the glass. You cupped your hands over your face, and he could see the tension in your shoulders ease. The crookedness and the blotchy purple hue beneath your eyes seemed to vanish, and your nose looked as good as new. You smiled to yourself, a moment of gratitude for your newfound powers, but that smile faltered when you caught a glimpse of his silhouette in the window.

As you turned, Eddie raised his hands in surrender. “It’s just me! I just wanted to stop and—woah… your nose?” He took a step closer, his eyes widening in genuine surprise.

You glanced down, cheeks flushing. “Y-yeah, my brother-in-law got me in to see the doctor really quick after we left.”

His puzzled expression lingered, his gaze taking in the details of you—the way your hair framed your face and the hesitant smile playing at your lips. “It looks perfectly fine… like nothing ever happened?”

“The doctor was really good,” you murmured, your fingers brushing over your nose. “A lot of ice and… makeup! Actually!”

He nodded, an awkward silence enveloping the air between you. Clearing your throat, you kept your gaze fixed on the ground, the weight of humiliation lingering. “I-I should actually be thanking you…I mean, after Jason’s pants went down, I almost saw my life flash before my eyes.”

He chuckled, recalling the image of Jason in his ridiculous boxers. “I wish I could’ve gotten a picture.” Heat rose not just in his cheek, but across his whole face as he saw the sweet smile spreading on yours.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.”

You nodded, telling him your name, a slight smile creeping back onto your lips. “But I’m sure you know who I am…”

Your palms felt sweaty, your heartbeat drumming in your ears as you finally looked up, searching his eyes for something—what, you weren’t sure.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around.” He shifted on his feet, his voice softer now, the connection between you palpable.

Nodding, you turned to walk away before he could say anything else, a wave of nervousness washing over you.

“Hey! Wait! You’re not walking home in the dark, right?”

You shrugged, your heart racing as you nodded.

“Please, let me at least drive you home.”

After a brief pause, you relented, walking back to his van. The drive was quiet, filled with the tension of unspoken words. You provided directions, but each passing moment felt electric, charged with the possibility of something more.

As he pulled up to your house, you began to unbuckle your seatbelt, but he coughed awkwardly. “So—um, hear me out. I know your nose is broken, and my uncle and I can’t really afford—“

“Don’t worry about it.” You smiled as you stepped out of his van, but the warmth in your chest lingered, reluctant to fade.

As you hurried up your sidewalk, a hand gripped your shoulder, halting you. “No, wait! I have to make this right at least!”

“It’s fine!”

“Let me… let me do something for you? Maybe like a meal or—or—“

“Like I said, it’s fine—“

“I’m not leaving until you accept my offering.” He stood firm, blocking your path with an earnest expression that made your heart flutter.

“Fine. Tomorrow, though.” You huffed, your tone playful yet firm. “I actually have to study for a test.”

Eddie's smile grew coy, a spark of excitement igniting in his stomach. “Tomorrow it is,” he said, unable to hide the thrill in his voice at the thought of spending more time with you.

As you bid him goodnight and turned to open the door, it swung open abruptly. Your sister stormed out, fury etched across her face. She grabbed your arm, pulling you inside.

“Thank you, but the next time you lay your hands on my sister—I will make sure half of your teeth go missing.”

Eddie stood frozen as she stomped back in and slammed the door in his face. You felt a mix of anger and embarrassment, the moment slipping through your fingers.

She turned to you, gripping your chin and inspecting your nose. “I guess Teddy lied; your nose looks fine.”

You rolled your eyes, wriggling out of her grasp. “You didn’t have to be such a jerk to him, you know? He actually stood up for me.”

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Ugh, out of all the kids you could’ve gotten mixed in with, you just had to befriend the Munson one. From what the girls say, he’s just no good. So please, keep your distance.”

Groaning, you stormed to your room, flinging yourself onto the bed. Frustration bubbled within you, tears streaming down your face. Your breathing turned into full-on heaving, and as your gaze flicked to the TV in the corner, something ignited inside you. A burning, thrilling energy coursed through your veins, and in an instant, the screen erupted into flames.

[that-one-utensil]

Hi hi I have a new obsession with the fic @thatfancygirlinwhite is currently writing

It’s a Witch!au with Bilbo as a helpful witch and Thorin as an ornery raven (who is Not supposed to be a raven thank you very much)

Their writing style is so so stellar and will pull you in from the very start. I honestly forgot I was reading a fic until I reached the end the chapter and was snapped back into reality

There’s two chapters so far. You should check it out!!

[klodwig]

Happy Holidays!

Kylux stickers~

psd in public post on my patreon

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

Hiyo! Evening everyone!

Do you remember that Aesthetic game that I did for my characters a while back? well, I had these moodboards lying around from when I first started to draft this AU, so I decided to share them the same way I did my previous moodboard! so, here you have Dorothea, Colette and Lucia as their counterparts in my "The Witches of Månenshavn" story! Enjoy! <3

⭐DOROTHEA MORGENSTERN🔮

MOODBOARD

"Dorothea is a Lunar/Cosmic Witch. She is connected to the Night Sky, The Moon, the Stars, and the Celestial Bodies. She is mostly up at night, her head literally among the clouds, and works with crystals, compasses, and armillary spheres, studying the lunar Phases and the Planetary movement, being in deep contact with the Vault of Heaven and all the stars above. She has Seer powers, and her magick is connected to dreams and the future, and she leaves stardust as a trail behind her. Her familiar is a Raven that goes by the name of Belial. To her, it's connected the Element of Air, and hers are the Winds."

PLAYLIST:

"Caribbean Blue" - Enya "The Mystic's Dream" - Loreena McKennitt "Follow Me" - Celtic Women "The Arcana: Memory" - Keith Holden

QUOTES :

"If all you told was turned to gold If all you dreamed was new Imagine sky-high above In Caribbean blue" ― Enya, Caribbean Blue

“In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities.” ― Janos Arany

“Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning. ” ― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

🌹COLETTE DE BEAUMONT🐈‍⬛

MOODBOARD

"Colette is a Hearth/Green Witch. She is the literal Heart of the house in Månenshavn, and she generally can be found either in her garden tending to the herbs she needs for her potions or in the kitchen, brewing all sorts of concoctions, oil, and balms, along with protective and cleansing spells. Her magick is connected to plants and nature, and her potions are known to be incredibly powerful. Her familiar is a Snake named Girouette. To her, it's connected the Element of the Earth."

PLAYLIST:

"The Arcana: Magic Hour" - Neil Cross "My Girlfriend is a Witch" - October Country "Mother Earth" - Within Temptation "Élan" - Nightwish

QUOTES :

“Magic is believing in yourself, if you can do that, you can make anything happen.” ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“Witches were a bit like cats. They didn’t much like one another’s company, but they did like to know where all the other witches were, just in case they needed them.” ― Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky

“Happiness. Simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart. Bitter. Sweet. Alive.” ― Joanne Harris, Chocolat

📜 LUCIA BARBARIGO💀

MOODBOARD

"Lucia is the mischievous one, and she is a Death/Chaos Witch. She is the one that is most attuned with the Spirit world, and she is also the House Medium and the one that practices Divination through tea reading, runes, and tarot reading. She is also the one responsible to create an antidote to poisons, and she is generally found in the kitchen side by side with Colette, often bickering because of the dangerous ingredients Lucia uses. She is the most mysterious of the three, and has quite the impish sense of humor, if a little morbid. Her familiar is an owl named Vieri. She also has a normal cat, Martino, who is always up to bother Dorothea's Belial. To her, it's connected the Element of Fire."

PLAYLIST:

"The Dark Ones" - Karliene "Ballo in F♯ Minore" - Angelo Branduardi "The Circle" - Blackmore's Night "Savage Daughter" - Ekaterina Shehelova

QUOTES :

"Sono io la morte e porto corona Io son di tutti voi signora e padrona E davanti alla mia falce il capo tu dovrai chinare E dell 'oscura morte al passo andare"

― Angelo Branduardi, "Ballo in F♯ Minore"

“Even death has a heart.” ― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

“To die will be an awfully big adventure.” ― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

[ladykailolu]

Baby Marigold: exists/is Born

Mia Fey: You are the most important thing in the world, and I love you

I wanna talk more about Mama Mia

Mia was made to be a mom. Her look just screams MILF

All she had in the real game was her plant Charley

Now Mia has a real child

She absolute has a framed picture of Marigold when she's a newborn, swaddled in blankets. And that picture is meticulously kept clean on her work desk, right next to the computer screen so she can always be reminded of the love of her life. I can't imagine that Mia wouldn't also have pictures of herself holding Marigold.

And it's those pictures that Marigold discovers when she's much older and treasures almost as much as the magatama her mother gave her.

There's this thing called a hope chest that used to be a physical chest where a mother would store items to be used at her daughter's wedding and to help her keep the home. Nowadays, you can use the hope chest to keep keepsakes, like those porcelain ornaments meant to commemorate a child's birth, or first holiday, etc. So, Mia has a little hope chest of her own of blankets and other knick-knacks to commemorate moments in the first three years of Marigold's life. So when Marigold finds it when she's about 12 years old or so, it's a treasure-trove! The blanket is pretty big for a bed, so she uses it for her own bed for years while she lives with Godot.

Imagine that after a trial, Phoenix steps out of of the courtroom with Marigold in his arms. When Mia sees them, she rushes over, her eyes trained on Marigold as if she was hurt or lonely. Marigold was neither, and she brightened up anyway as Mia's approach, arms outstretch, childish voice chanting "up! up!" So Mia gingerly takes Marigold from Phoenix's arms.

Marigold always had difficulty sleeping, except for when she was a newborn. So often, Mia would hold her and rock her to sleep while she poured over notes for the next trial. When Marigold is 3 years old, Mia gently lays her down in her bed and tucks the blankets up to her chin. Of course, Marigold still can't sleep, so Mia reads her story after story, nodding off and fighting sleep herself. She's got more planning to do for this trial, so she can't sleep yet!

It was funny how much Marigold was like her father, even at this age and without ever meeting him properly. Diego had problems getting to sleep too. It had to have been all the coffee. Mia twice not-so-subtly offered the idea of detoxing, and Diego shot her down both times. He won't even settle for decaffeinated coffee. Who knew that his night-owl genes would pass along to their daughter? If that's true then Mia's sure that Marigold would be just as addicted to coffee as Diego as soon as she takes her first sip.

Imagine that in the winter, Phoenix and Mia go on a stroll in a frosty park (let's say it gets cold where they live lol), and Mia pushes Marigold along in a stroller. WELL! It took them like an hour to even leave the office because Mia had to dress Marigold up in a sweater, a coat with a hoodie, a hat, gloves, a scarf, and wrapped her in a blanket as she sits in her stroller. She looked like a little queen! Perhaps it was a little over-the-top, but Phoenix isn't gonna stand in the way of a very concerned Mama Mia.

And lastly, Godot reads all the letters Mia wrote for him, intending to share them with him when he woke up. Those letters contained the stories of the little moments in Marigold's life that most people would pass over, but only her parents would see. And they're told from the perspective of Mia. The moment of Marigold's birth and how Mia thought she was the most beautiful thing to ever exist. The day when Mia brought Marigold home and showed her everything. Playing with Marigold. Showing Marigold the beach and snow for the first time. Marigold taking her first steps. Mia subsequently chasing Marigold around the house before she goes tumbling down the steps. Marigold squirming around and babbling and just being cute! Marigold saying her first word, creating her first drawing, reading her first book. Marigold's nasty habit of not getting to sleep until way past her bedtime. All the little knick-knacks that she saved for Marigold. How much she misses him and wishes that she could be there to see all of this happen (and the ink here is a little smudged, suggesting that liquid contacted the paper. Was she crying?). The days that Marigold first said "dada" and "mama".

It's more than enough to make Godot cry. He reads those letters carefully, one after the other, in a dark room illuminated by the red light of his visor.

...

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...In the witch!AU, for the first three years of Marigold's life, Diego got to experience these moments with Mia. While Marigold still had trouble sleeping, Diego could put her to sleep at ease with his magic. And he was there when she took her first steps, said her first word, called them "papi" and "mami". He was there for all of it during those three years until the incident happened. Fast forward 9 years, and Godot is shocked to find Marigold so grown up, and so beautiful like her mother. It's like Mia lives on in Marigold, the girl's existence is a gentle reminder of the love Mia had for Godot.