#witch hazels event

[witch-hazels-musings]

Thaumaturgy Event

Submissions: October 10th Writing: October 11th - 13th 2024 SFW | Genshin Impact Only* | Gender Neutral Reader

more details below!

I wanted to say Thank You to all my followers, new and old! Because of you, I have been able to write a book - an actual, dream-making book. I could not have done this without the support you all gave me throughout the years of writing Genshin Impact stories!

SO! To celebrate the completion of draft 3! I wanted to give back to you all for your love and patience :)

Join me, on October 11-13th in my new event! ----- Characters Eligible for the event Please understand that I haven't played Genshin Impact in years. These are the characters I know and feel most comfortable with writing. I will not be writing anyone from the newer regions or going outside of the characters on this list

Mondstadt - Diluc, Kayea, Albedo, Jean Liyue - Zhongli, Xiao, Ganyu Inazuma - Thoma, Ayato, Itto, Kazuma Sumeru - Alhaitham, Kaveh* Fontaine - Neuvillette*, Wriothesley* Harbingers - Childe, Scaramouche, Pantalone*, Il Capitano* Other: Dainsleif *(these characters are still new to me, so I will write limited requests for them)

Prompts - to be posted October 4th - Fluff, General, Angst

requests sent before the event will be deleted ask me questions via DMs ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

This event is based on spells and rituals. Inspiration does not equal understanding; liberties have been taken. All content is owned by Witch Hazels Musings, theft of these images, and stories will result in immediate action.

made in Canva

[mrsthunderkin]

When a weenie wizard marries his best friend imortal witch for political gain and magicaltaxevasion things tend to get out of hand especially when there's a lot of alcohol involved.

He's an okay Emperor

A decent dad

A horrible husband

And a good friend...sort of.

[sheogorath]

witch hazel was being extremely silly this morning. she kept trying to get behind the toilet and id gently move her away and say "nooo hazel dont be naughtyyy" and she'd start attacking my hand then get so excited she binkied like six times. she just loves the thrill of being bad.

[delirious-donna]

Awake At The Witching Hour [Part Four]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: You can't sleep and it seems your handsome host can't either. What is there to do in the middle of the night?

pairings: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: NSFW, mutual masturbation (but separate, you’ll get the gist), Nanami being pent up, imaginations running wild (both Nanami and reader), cumshot, reader described as being generous and soft in body

Part Three | Series Masterlist | Part Five

The witching hour. When it is said that the veil between worlds is at its thinnest, and the power of the nefarious is at its strongest.

You weren’t entirely sure what had roused you. No sense of fear gripped your heart so you doubted it was due to some bad dream, though it had taken a moment to remember where you were.

Black velvet darkness impaired your vision at first, drowsiness adding to your inability to pick out the details of the room you were lying in. The air was pleasantly cool against your warm sleep-soaked skin. You pushed back the duvet to feel the faint breeze play across the soft squidge of your abdomen—the oversized t-shirt you wore pushed up to your chest in the disarray of a tumultuous sleep.

The events of the day unfurled in your mind’s eye like a low budget movie. It still didn’t feel real, though you well remembered the blind panic and sense of anger then irritation at being walked in on whilst bathing. No, not walked in, leapt in on. Now that you knew Nanami Kento a little better it was hard to fight the smile that rose to your lips in memory.

He seemed so different at that moment, the booming “booo” not something you would ever expect from the rigid man he had been since then. You wondered if he was a little more relaxed with his friends and loved ones. Did he even have friends?

A suspicion told you that he was the type to keep to himself, or maybe one or two close friends at most. That was relatable, and made him all the more human in your eyes. What might he be like as a boyfriend, you wondered? Attentive and loving or distant and cold? Either was possible, as well as a multitude of other attributes and combinations.

Sighing deeply, you turned onto your side and pulled the covers up to your chin now that your body had cooled from the stream of air that crept in from the ajar window. A glance at your phone told you it was late—an hour you should be asleep at—but you were annoyingly awake.

It seemed the only thing on your mind was that of the man asleep in the room next to yours. A man that didn’t want anything to do with you, a perfect stranger. Yet, you couldn’t help but wonder… couldn’t help but fantantise that he could be interested. If he were to knock on your door right now, his hazel eyes, dark pools speared with lightning, and desire evident on his cheeks you would welcome him.

Did he sleep naked? The thought of all that glorious skin bare beneath covers that matched the ones you were snuggled under sent a throb directly between your legs. You were developing a second heartbeat at an alarming rate and it was all his fault. It was ridiculous how good looking he was, and what made it worse was he didn’t seem to know it. You imagined your fingers running through his neatly parted hair and knew he would look even sexier with it all mussed. The just fucked look.

He was well built and definitely strong. Biceps didn’t bulge against shirt sleeves in the way his did if you weren’t bench pressing a decent amount regularly. That and the small home gym were more than enough to know with certainty that if he meant business, you’d be in a heap of trouble. In the best way. Your mind whispered, and you felt fiery warmth fill your cheeks.

You weren’t honestly sure when your hand had begun to stray.

The peaks of your nipples rubbed against your shirt, thumb and finger tweaking the sensitive buds and rolling them deftly until your thighs pressed together at the crave for friction. It was wrong to be thinking such lewd thoughts of your generous host—unwilling as he might have started out—but you couldn’t stop. Kento’s broad frame filled your mind, the looming shadow dwarving you enough to make you feel diminutive by comparison, and equally as thrilled.

The laboured breathing of his barreled chest hard to resist, the rise and fall evidence of a man close to the limit of his restraint and you badly wanted to reach out and touch him. Wild desire radiating from his every pore like a heady musk that you inhaled greedily, longing to become entirely intoxicated by him. Who would break first in the game of lust and longing? Regardless of the answer, there would be no loser.

This was so wrong. So stupendously wrong, not to mention, futile. A veil of madness shrouded the bed and you couldn’t stop nor did you actually wish to. In the darkest part of the night your deepest desires unfolded in perfect clarity. He ticked so many boxes and left question marks in many more. An enigma that you longed to solve. A riddle that you wanted to crow over the answer when it finally revealed itself.

Nanami Kento…

Your fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your underwear, eyes widened at the searing heat you encountered. The skin of your pubic mound was warm to the touch, but as you raked through the neatly trimmed hairs and moved closer to the heart of your sex, it increased tenfold. You might have hissed if you weren’t concerned with making any noise that could alert the object of your arousal. Wetness glided over the pads of your fingertips, sticky and abundant. It spread along your plump folds engorged with blood until your tented knees butterflied outwards and you could feel the twitching urge to toy with your clit.

What would he think of this madness? A young woman intent on masturbating to the thought of him. Would he deepen that permanently etched scowl and reprimand you? And why did even the idea of that outcome spark the ends of your nerves with raw electricity?

Speaking of the man in question, he was awake. Blinking into the darkness as if the ceiling held the answer to his current dilemma. That dilemma being the tent in his tight navy boxer briefs.

Without looking, he palmed himself and manoeuvred his cock to lie flush against his thigh. There. Now it didn’t appear like he was pitching a tent that could sleep a family of four. Instead, the heat of his erection seeped into him and roused his mind all the more.

His dreams had been a jumbled black and white mess, an indicator for the state of his mind. Sleep had found him easily, but the wrinkled and twisted covers showed that it had not been a sound slumber.

Kento puffed, grumpy and aching. He couldn’t recall the last time he wrapped his palm around himself to let off some steam. It had always seemed like a poor use of his time. Opting for cold showers to numb his swollen member, focusing on getting in a rigorous albeit begrudged workout in before the commute to work.

He baulked at the realisation he hadn’t cum in nearly six months. The last time he entertained the idea of dating even further back than that. So what was different?

You. You were something different. Smiling before he could school his features into neutrality, he surmised that your presence was fucking with more than just his routine. It was you that he thought of when he adjusted himself, trying and failing not to think of your smaller fingers around his shaft.

“What is wrong with me?”

He recalled the smile you gifted him when you parted ways for the night, how your small hand had once again reached out to lightly touch his bicep in thanks for carrying your small suitcase into the room. His cock twitched in response. Groaning, he smacked the pillow next to him over his face. If he were a dog his tail would be wagging. Not just a dog, more like a mongrel.

Kento swore your scent lingered in his room. The wafts of your perfume were stronger in the bathroom and he tried to ignore the subtle sweetness even as it infused inside his nose. Right now, it seemed to have settled into his sheets and he longed to bury his nose in the high count cotton and inhale deeply. Nothing was dissuading him from lowering the band of his briefs until he stood proudly erect.

Maybe if he satisfied the urge now, the fog that clouded his judgement would clear and all would be right again. That was what he told himself while pulling back the covers to free himself. Precum dribbled from the angry slit of his cockhead, turning the near purple tip glossy and sticky.

His thumb swiped through the mess and his hips rose instinctively. Behind his shuttered eyelids he saw you approach the bed, generous hips swaying clad in the softest satin. In truth, he couldn’t give a fuck for expensive lingerie, but it was aesthetically pleasing and this was his fantasy so why not indulge? He’d be just as happy to greet you in sweats or better yet… his shirt.

Oh fuck.

The tendons in his neck strained, head thrown back whilst he pumped himself lazily at first. Would you be shy in bed? Assertive? Would you drop your jaw to let your tongue run over the seam of his balls whilst using that quick witted mouth of yours on him?

The unknown was almost more tantalising to him than the act itself. It had been so long since the experience of working someone out appealed to him. To learn their nuances and what made them tick. More specifically, your nuances and what made you tick.

With months of denying himself under his belt, it didn’t take long for Kento to feel that familiar tingle begin at the small of his back. His balls drew tight and full, and he flushed a darker red at how easily he was ready to cum. His free hand clenched into a fist, the cotton of the sheets held tightly whilst his toes curled. A guttural groan escaped his throat before he could smother it, quickly biting his lip as spurts of hot cum lashed his quivering stomach. Warm honeyed pleasure dripped in inversion from the bottom of his spine to the base of his skull until his eyes rolled over.

Kento slowed the stroke of his hand, wringing his cock of every last drop until he was close to whimpering from the sensitivity. Panting from the far too quick ejaculation, his eyebrows pinched at the mess he had made. Streaks of milky release pooled near his navel, his hand and softening cock sticky and webbed from the moment of madness. As soon as he was certain his legs would work, he trudged into the bathroom to clean up with guilt weighing heavy in his gut.

A similar sensation burned in the pit of your stomach. Your chest heaved from the release you’d found, but it came at a price and now you were paying it.

You didn’t regret your actions but there was still a guilt associated with them. You were two unattached adults, and you couldn’t deny or sweep aside your attraction to Kento any longer, but he was Karin’s brother. He should be forbidden. You wouldn’t give oxygen to the mean voice in your head that said she deserved it for not telling you about him sooner.

The little pulsing aftershocks of your orgasm were fading, fingers sticky from how you had done your best to fuck yourself before switching to manipulating your sensitive pearl until white sparked in your vision. All the while you thought of how it would look to have his head between your thighs, his mouth on your pussy and your fingers tangled in his hair. Would he eat you sloppily or bite at the tender inside of your thighs? Would he welcome you rutting yourself against his mouth or would he hold your hips steady?

You sat up, legs wobbly when your feet fell to the floor. The bathroom wasn’t far and you needed to clean up and change your underwear. The reflection in the mirror over the sink looked hesitant despite the soft glow your skin exuded. A healthy dose of dopamine and the pump of blood circulating your body brightened you up even though it was the middle of the night, and you looked away with a troubled sigh.

The apartment was silent, your footsteps the only sound as you tiptoed barefoot into the kitchen for a glass of water before heading back to bed. Leaning your forehead against the cabinet, you listened to the rushing water for a moment or two longer than necessary before filling a glass and taking a sip. The sound masked the footsteps that approached, pausing then continuing on.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

A strangled scream caught fast in your throat, muffled by the water now rushing down the wrong way and making you cough and splutter. You whirled on the spot and came face to chest with the man you had spent the last half hour pleasuring yourself to the thought of.

Kento was bare chested—a fact your bulging eyes couldn’t believe—with a faint smattering of ash-coloured hairs decorating between his meaty pectorals and leading down towards his stomach. You didn’t dare follow it any further for fear of knowing whether it went right down to his happy trail, a fact that most definitely would see you moaning aloud.

A pair of pale blue pyjama trousers hid the rest of him and you were grateful for that. He stalled next to the kitchen island, an unreadable expression on his face, and were his ears red? It would be comical if you weren’t burning with mortification. Your heartbeat raced so thunderously that it was amazing he couldn’t hear it from across the room.

“I… couldn’t sleep,” you finally offered once you could breathe again without coughing.

His eyes seemed to search your features, whether for signs of lying or something else, you weren’t completely sure. At last, he nodded and walked closer to grab his own glass and fill it with water.

The silence was oppressive, thick and charged with an energy that bristled down Kento’s spine. “Do you need anything?”

Your head snapped around so fast he was surprised you didn’t give yourself whiplash. If he didn’t know any better he would say that warmth seemed to fill your face. The question was innocent but perhaps… no. He was trying to see things that weren’t there.

“An extra pillow. A thicker duvet.” He elaborated when you didn’t answer.

Having this casual conversation was excruciating enough given what he had just done to the image of you in his mind. It was made worse with the realisation that the reality of you was so much more appealing than his imagination could ever conjure.

The almost comically oversized t-shirt you wore dragged nearly to your knees, with the sleeves reaching well past your elbows. It kept your modesty intact and the mystery of it all made his mouth water. Discovering the curves of your body, which parts dipped and the soft rolls of your body would be hours of fun if he were given the chance, not that he would be. He idly wondered if you would look this good in one of his shirts before dismissing the thought, or trying to.

His cock twitched in his clean briefs and he cleared his throat and turned away, terrified of pitching another tent when one was not wanted nor needed. Kento didn’t need to think about how close you were, how all he had to do was reach out a hand and discover whether you would step away or approach. He couldn’t decide which outcome would be the better one.

“No, I don’t need a pillow or anything like that,” you said finally, though you left the sentence hanging because you did want something, but you couldn’t tell him that. “I’m just adjusting to sleeping in a new place, I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, but don’t hesitate if there is something I can do to help.”

You could stop looking like a damn five course meal.

The thought was in your mind so suddenly you nearly gasped, instead, masking it by taking a long gulp of water and walking towards the hallway. You needed to put some distance between you, to retreat to the relative safety of your room and chastise yourself for being no better than a lustful bunny.

With a faux smile and an appreciative nod, you turned one last time to glance at him. “Thank you, Kento.”

Kento watched you slip out of sight, back along the darkened hallway and listened to the soft snick of your bedroom closing shut. He was throbbing, a hand drifted to his crotch to hide what was growing. That was the first time you had called him by his given name, and he liked it.

What a mess, he thought whilst returning to bed. His eyes never wavered from your door until he was safely behind his own. His guts still twisted in memory of his unsavoury actions, but something more pressing was on his mind as he screwed his eyes shut and prayed for sleep.

I want to hear my name from your lips again…

[greenwitchcrafts]

October 2024 Witch Guide

New Moon: October 2nd

First Quarter: October 10th

Full moon: October 17th

Last Quarter: October 24th

Sabbats: Samhain- October 31st-November 1st

October Hunter's Moon

Also known as: Blood Moon, Drying Rice Moon, Falling leaf Moon, Freezing Moon, Harvest Moon, Migration Moon, Moon of the Changing Season, Sanguine Moon,, Shedding Moon, Ten Colds Moon, Winterfelleth & Windermanoth

Element: Air

Zodiac: Libra & Scorpio

Nature spirts: Frost Faeries & Plant Faeries

Deities: Apollo, Astarte, Belili, Cernunnos, Demeter, Hathor, Herne, Horned God, Ishtar, Lakshmi & Mercury

Animals: Elephant, jackal, ram, scorpion & stag

Birds: Crow, heron & robin

Trees: Acacia,apple, cypress & yew

Herbs: Angelica, burdock, catnip, pennyroyal, sweet Annie, thyme & uva ursi

Flowers: Apple blossom, calendula, cosmos & marigold

Scents: Apple blossom, cherry & strawberry

Stones: Amethyst, beryl, cat's eye, chrysoberyl, citrine, obsidian, opal, sapphire, tourmaline & turquoise

Colors: Black, blue, dark blue, blue-green & purple

Issues, intentions & powers: Cooperation, darkness, divination, healing & hope

Energy: Artistic works, creativity, harmony, inner cleansing, justice, karma, legal matters, mental stimulation, partnerships, reincarnation & uncovering mysteries or secrets

The Harvest Moon is the full Moon that occurs nearest to the autumnal equinox date (September 22, 2024). This means that either September or October’s full Moon may take on the name “Harvest Moon” instead of its traditional name. Similarly, the Hunter’s Moon is the first full Moon to follow the Harvest Moon, meaning it can occur in either October or November.

The Harvest Moon & the Hunter’s Moon are unique in that they are not directly related to this folklore or restricted to a single month. Instead, they are tied to an astronomical event: the autumnal equinox!

• October’s full Hunter Moon orbits closer to Earth than any of the other full Moons this year, making one of the four supermoons of 2024!  As the Moon drifts over the horizon around sunset, it may appear larger & more orange—how perfect for the fall season!

It is believed that this name originates from the fact that it was a signal for hunters to prepare for the upcoming cold winter by going hunting. This is because animals were beginning to fatten up in preparation for the winter season. Moreover, since fields had recently been cleared out under the Harvest Moon, hunters could easily spot deer & other animals that had come out to search for remaining scraps. Additionally, foxes & wolves would also come out to prey on these animals.

Samhain

Known as: Ancestor's night, Feast of Apples, Feast of Sam-fuim, Feast of Souls, Feast of the Dead, Geimhreadh, Hallowmass, Martinmass, Old Hallowmass, Pagan New Year, Samana, Samhuinn, Samonios & Shadowfest

Season: Autumn

Element: Water

Symbols: Apples, bats, besom, black cats, cauldrons, ghosts, gourds, jack-o-lanterns, pumpkins, scarecrows & witches

Colors: Black, gold, orange, silver & white

Oils/Incense: Basil, cloves, copal, frankincense, gum mastic, heather, heliotrope, mint, myrrh & nutmeg

Animals: Bat, bear, boar, cat, cattle & dog

Stones: Amber, anatase, black calcite, black obsidian, black tourmaline, bras, carnelian, clear quartz, diamond, garnet, gold, granite, hematite, iron, jet, marble, onyx, pearl, pyrite, ruby, sandstone, sardonyx, smokey quartz, steel & tektite

Food: Apples, ale, beef, cider, corn, nuts, fruit, garlic, gourds, grains, hazelnuts, herbal teas, mushroom, nettle, nuts, pears, pomegranates, pork, poultry, pumpkin pie, sunflower seeds, thistle, turnips & wine (mulled)

Herbs/Plants: Acorn, allspice, angelica, besom, catnip, corn, deadly nightshades, dittany of Crete, fumitory, garlic, mandrake, mugwort, mullein, oak leaves, patchouli, reed, rosemary, rue, sage, straw, tarragon, thistle & wormwood

Flowers:  Calendula, chrysanthemum & heather

Trees: Apple, beech, buckthorn, hazel, pine, locust, pomegranate, willow, witch hazel, yellow cedar & yew

Magical: Faeries

Goddesses: Al-Lat, Baba Yaga, Badb, Bast, Bebhionn, Bronach, Brunhilde, Cailleach, Carlin, Cassandra, Cerridwen, Copper Woman, Crobh Dearg, Devanyani, Dolya, Edda, Elli, Eris, Erishkigal, Fortuna, Frau Holde, Hecate, Hel, Mania, The Morrigan, Nemisis & Nicneven

Gods: Arawn, Baron Samede, Chronus,The Dagda, Dis, Hades, Nefertum, Osiris, Pluto, Woden & Xocatl

Spellwork: Divination, fire magick, night magick, shape-shifting, spirit calling & water magick

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Crossroads, darkness, death, divination, honor, introspection, otherworldly/underworld, release, visions & wisdom

Activities:

•Dedicate an altar to loved ones who have passed

• Boil a simmer pot to cleanse your space

• Have a silent dinner

• Light a candle for your loved ones & yourself

• Decorate your house and/or altar

• Release negative energy & cleanse yourself with a ritual bath

• Pull tarot cards to see what may be in store for you ahead

• Cleanse, clean & de-clutter your space

• Host or attend a bonfire

• Leave offerings for the Sídhe

• Journal & reflect on your accomplishments, challenges & everything you did this year

•Go on a nature walk

• Learn a new form of divination

• Have a bonfire with your friends and/or family

• Carve pumpkins, turnips or apples

• Express yourself creatively through art, music, ect

• Visit a cemetery & help clean off areas that need it or to visit a family member/ ancestor & leave an offering

• Hold a seance

• Bake spooky treats & bread as offerings

• Refresh your protection magicks, sigils & rituals

Samhain is about halfway between the autumnal equinox & winter solstice. It is one of the four Gaelic seasonal festivals along with Imbolc, Beltane, & Lughnasa. Historically it was widely observed throughout Ireland, Scotland, & the Isle of Man. 

Samhain is believed to have Celtic pagan origins &  some Neolithic passage tombs in Great Britain & Ireland are aligned with the sunrise at the time of Samhain. It is mentioned in the earliest Irish literature, from the 9th century & is associated with many important events in Irish mythology.

The early literature says great gatherings & feasts marked Samhain when the ancient burial mounds were open, which were seen as portals to the Otherworld. Some of the literature also associates Samhain with bonfires & sacrifices.

• According to Irish mythology, Samhain (like Beltane) was a time when the 'doorways' to the Otherworld opened, allowing supernatural beings and the souls of the dead to come into our world; while Beltane was a summer festival for the living, Samhain "was essentially a festival for the dead".

•The festival was not recorded in detail until the early modern era. It was when cattle were brought down from the summer pastures & livestock were slaughtered. Special bonfires were lit, which were deemed to have protective & cleansing powers.

At Samhain, the aos sí were appeased with offerings of food & drink to ensure the people & livestock survived the winter. The souls of dead kin were also thought to revisit their homes seeking hospitality & a place was set at the table for them during a meal. Divination was also a big part of the festival & often involved nuts & apples.

Mumming & guising were part of the festival from at least the early modern era, whereby people went door-to-door in costume, reciting verses in exchange for food. The costumes may have been a way of imitating & disguising oneself from the aos sí. 

• In the late 19th century, John Rhys and James Frazer suggested it had been the "Celtic New Year", but that is disputed.

Some believe it is the time of The Goddess' mourning the death of The God until his rebirth at Yule. The Goddess' sadness can be seen in the shortening, darkening days & the arrival or cold weather.

Related festivals:

• Halloween( October 31st)-

In popular culture, the day has become a celebration of horror, being associated with the macabre and supernatural.

•One theory holds that many Halloween traditions were influenced by Celtic harvest festivals, particularly the Gaelic festival Samhain, which are believed to have pagan roots. Some go further & suggest that Samhain may have been Christianized as All Hallow's Day, along with its eve, by the early Church. Other academics believe Halloween began solely as a Christian holiday, being the vigil of All Hallow's Day.

Popular Halloween activities include trick-or-treating (or the related guising & ghouling), attending Halloween costume parties, carving pumpkins or turnips into jack-o'-lanterns, lighting bonfires, apple bobbing, divination games, playing pranks, visiting haunted attractions, telling scary stories, & watching horror or Halloween-themed films

• Day of the Dead(November 1st-2nd)-

 el Día de Muertos or el Día de los Muertos

The multi-day holiday involves family & friends gathering to pay respects & to remember friends & family members who have died. These celebrations can take a humorous tone, as celebrants remember amusing events & anecdotes about the departed. It is widely observed in Mexico, where it largely developed, and is also observed in other places, especially by people of Mexican heritage.

•The observance falls during the Christian period of Allhallowtide.

Traditions connected with the holiday include honoring the deceased using calaveras & marigold flowers known as cempazúchitl, building home altars called ofrendas with the favorite foods & beverages of the departed & visiting graves with these items as gifts for the deceased.

 The celebration is not solely focused on the dead, as it is also common to give gifts to friends such as candy sugar skulls, to share traditional pan de muerto with family & friends, & to write light-hearted & often irreverent verses in the form of mock epitaphs dedicated to living friends & acquaintances, a literary form known as calaveras literarias.

 Some argue that there are Indigenous Mexican or ancient Aztec influences that account for the custom & it has become a way to remember those forebears of Mexican culture.

• All Saint's Day(November 1st)- 

Also known as All Hallows' Day or the Feast of All Saints is a Christian solemnity celebrated in honour of all the saints of the Church, whether they are known or unknown.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

[sketchtheinfinity]

my gift for @weirdest-worlds for the @pjo-halloween-trade event

I did witch hazel (the black cat is frank, of course)

I was going for a costume party type of thing but I couldn't find the time to do the others TT

Under the cut there's a bonus accidental couple costume solangelo!

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Home, At Last | Azriel & WitchDaughter!Reader

Summary: Unbeknownst to Azriel, an encounter he had with a witch nearly three centuries ago will come back to haunt him when his shadows begin speaking of you, his “daughter”, a witch in danger of being thrown out of her coven.

Word Count: ~ 3.5k

Warnings: Mentions of rape, stillborn baby, pregnancy, abuse, branding, witches, sharp stuff, birth, death, major trauma and angst, injuries, ends kinda good tho (PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP W/ AZ AND READER)

A/N: Ok I feel like I’m scamming y’all bc reader is actually Az’s granddaughter but they have more of a father-daughter relationship in the ends…this is like super sad in the beginning but there’s comfort in the end and a bit of fluff, hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

From the moment his shadows had begun whispering and speaking of rumors, Azriel hadn’t been surprised.

Of course, he was surrounded by rumors, he was the infamous shadowsinger, the Spymaster of Night Court who’d been alive for centuries and lived through several wars, a male who’d murdered thousands in his lifetime. But these rumors seemed a bit more real than the others, more realistic, or at least his shadows thought so.

‘She is small, with hazel eyes like ours’

They whispered to him, conjuring up images in his mind, images of a young teenage female, one of gleaming iron, with hazel eyes and midnight black hair.

He didn’t understand how or why he would have a child.

With any lover he took, he always ensured that the protection was flawless, whether it be condoms, birth control pills, or pulling out on time, he was careful with all of it. He knew he wasn’t ready for a child, and he didn’t want to have one anytime soon, let alone with a female he wasn’t mated with.

But there was one instance. One completely out of his control, an experience he would never forget.

It had been in the midst of the first Great War, he’d been sent on a mission, a secretive one to gather information, by Rhysand’s father, the High Lord at the time. It had all gone perfectly, he’d gotten in, and out, but he’d made a small pitstop on a little side of a high mountaintop to gather water, as he had been feeling a bit nauseous due to the lack of it for many hours.

The female had moved so quickly he hadn’t even been able to notice her until he was on the ground, and saw her iron teeth and nails come down over their normal counterparts a second too late before they were against his Jugular, the witch smiling wickedly above him as she crooned into his ear.

“Quite the catch. I haven’t seen a male like you in centuries,”

She had purred into his ear, her sharp nails tracing over where the Illyrian tattoos were visible on the lower half of his neck, and some of his shoulders. Overcome with nausea and fatigue from nonstop missions, not to mention the deadly witch that could easily slaughter him, he could do nothing but remain silent and blank as he could while the witch had her way with him. That was a key belief of their kind, that men were only good for breeding and food, nothing more.

He’d tried to forget about it, tried his very hardest, but now it seemed it was coming back to bite him. It was odd that his shadows hadn’t picked anything up sooner. That event had been nearly 300 years ago, and if that witch had somehow sired his child, survived the birth with the wings, and raised it…

He was getting ahead of himself. Maybe it was just a mishap with a normal lover, not the sadistic witch who’d raped him so long ago.

And if it was….he’d find her.

*********************************************************

Normal occurrences in the witch camps had always been chaotic, but you were bound to notice more when you were actively looking out for it.

Daily sparring, sharpening of iron teeth or nails, fights, meals, and hunting times. It had all been so painfully normal to you before you’d gotten pregnant. It had been a human man, one you’d met while scoping out a new area for the Matron. He’d been drunk, and you, like any other witch of your coven, had taken advantage of that fact.

He’d at least provided a decent meal afterward.

Carrying a witchling was a blessing from your gods, you knew it, and you were forever thankful for it. But that didn’t mean it was easy. You were usually stuck in the designated area for impregnated witches that were about to pop, which was fine. There was just one thing you were nervous about, one thing that might go wrong.

You had only heard the story once, how you’d been born with wings and your mother had been left ripped open and dead because of it, her birthing canal unable to adjust. The same wings that had been promptly ripped off for being improper. Death had probably been the best fate for the female that had once called you her daughter, giving birth to an improper or “wrong” child was worse, and you would be branded like cattle, and thrown to the side.

That could easily happen to you.

The chances were low, usually the only genes that carried so strongly through witch blood were the integral witch parts, what made you worthy and befitting of the coven. The chances of the child having wings were low, almost zero, but not zero.

You couldn’t help but wonder if that was what your mother had been thinking, or her mother before her. The gene of wings had been in your bloodline almost three women back. They’d probably thought the same. That there wasn’t a chance, not one bit of one. Even though there had been, and she’d paid dearly for it

Every day dragged closer to the day, and as the others in the coven noticed the behavior, the swollen ankles, the lack of strength, shortness of breath, odd cravings, fatigue, or the morning sickness, the stricter the designated midwives became you staying inside of your bed.

The nerves grew, for multiple different reasons.

“This is a blessing,”

They’d tell you.

“You’re birthing the next generation of a strong coven,”

They said.

It was easy to listen to them, but not so easy to believe in what they’d said. Other females gave you tips, being oddly kind for your species and their volatile behavior. The midwives prepared you, giving you a blunt explanation of what would happen, as they did with all the other females about to give birth.

Finally, the day came.

At first, you thought you’d just pissed yourself when your water broke, but after a second of actual contemplation, you’d nearly panicked. The contractions started soon after, horrible awful things making your body cramp and lurch in ways you hadn’t even known possible beforehand. Your groans and moans joined those of the other woman also giving birth at the time. This was her first time, too. You’d briefly talked to her before.

“When are you due?”

“A month before the solstice.”

“….”

“Three weeks before the solstice.”

“Is this your first?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Me too.”

The female seemed as kind as a witch could be, with piercing blue eyes and chocolate brown hair. Your screams intertwined together, beds separated only by thin curtains in the large birthing tent with rows upon rows of beds and supplies.

It felt like you were being ripped apart from the inside out, some sort of feral creatures trying to claw their way out. Your nails dug into the bed, ripping and shredding the thick furs in a way most mothers didn’t. It felt like it was taking too long. You faintly heard crying, that of a baby, the other female’s child.

You pushed for what felt like hours, nurses hissing to push harder, faster, to be strong like a witch should and suffer through it. Like the other new mother beside your bed had done.

However, with a final push, the baby had emerged. You looked down at it, eyes stained with tears and sweat. There were no wings on the small, red thing, not even a hint of it.

And not a hint of crying, either.

*********************************************************

“And..how long will you be gone?”

Rhysand asked him, with a raised brow and smooth tone, barely showing his curiosity. He never saw his shadowsinger this bothered. Azriel had been pacing nearly all morning and seemed distracted during training.

“Give me a day.”

The male responded, swallowing as he tried to stop his pacing, to stop seeming concerned. The stoic look remained on his face, despite his obvious worries through his body language.

“Very well…”

The High Lord replied, swirling the wine in his cup around before taking a small sip of it, gazing into the pool of dark red liquid, as if trying to find an answer to his questions in it.

“What are you up to, brother?”

He then asked, giving Azriel a curious but assessing look. Azriel only shook his head, heart beating faster than it should’ve as he left the office area, walking out of the townhouse, looking at the sparkling river that overlooked the Sidra, and took out the maps he’d acquired from one of the oldest sections in the House of Wind’s library.

He’d marked out a path in chalk, he would start where he’d first encountered that witch nearly three centuries ago, and he would go South from there, following evidence of migration patterns his shadows had managed to dig up.

It had been hours of endless flying, no sign of life on the mountain other than old, maybe a year ago, dirt disturbed, which could’ve easily been whatever wildlife could brave the heights of the mountain. He’d followed the pattern from there, his wings aching, the shadows whispering which way to go, but unable to aid him in his conquest. He was forced to stop for the night when a large storm blew in, thunder cracking down from the skies.

And so, setting up a fire in a small cave he’d found, Truth-Teller in his hand, he went to sleep for the night.

*********************************************************

It had happened too quickly, you’d barely had time to understand why, but when you realized your child wasn’t crying, and the fact that he was too small and pale, you knew what had happened. A stillborn.

They brought out the brand before you could even try to get away, the nurses hissing and grumbling at your every struggle and begging and pleading as they took the red-hot iron, sinking it into your flesh, searing so deep that not even your witch blood could heal it enough to avoid the mark it left. The big, black, ugly symbol on the left of your stomach, read “Infertile”.

They’d dragged you through the camp as you’d screamed and sobbed, public humiliation at its finest, and carried you far from the camp, far enough that you wouldn’t be able to sniff them out or trace them back, dropping you on the forest floor.

“Waste of our time,”

You heard one of them grumble as they departed, leaving you alone and in the cold forest. You were still bleeding slightly, your teenage body struggling to recuperate from being split open. It got better as time went on, when you managed to struggle to your feet, knees about to give out, and began stumbling through the forest. Your head was fuzzy, not clear, and unable to focus properly as you registered warmth from a certain direction.

Warmth.

The word clanged through you like a bell despite the lightning and rain overhead, you began sniffing out the fire, picking up the faint scent of a male nearby. It didn’t matter. You could deal with the male later, but if you didn’t get warm now, you didn’t know if you could make it through the night.

A small cave came into sight, and stumbling into it, you found the warmth you so desperately desired, a small campfire lit.

However, before you could get closer to it, you registered being slammed to the ground, cold steel against your neck, and a pair of dark, hazel eyes looking into your own.

*********************************************************

A witch.

And not just any witch, his daughter, his teenage daughter, bloodied and bruised, being pinned down beneath him. He had her wrists tied up in barely a second, he’d seen firsthand what those iron nails witches possessed could do to those who weren’t cautious.

The iron scent of her blood was obvious as well, and based on its location, she was either injured in a very bad place or menstruating, and he didn’t want to think of the only real possible answer. Another aspect of her scent was the smell of blooming life, the same one Feyre had possessed while pregnant with Nyx. A scent he couldn’t ignore.

“Who are you?”

He asked, Truth-Teller being placed back on his side as he carefully picked the female up, placing her down near the campfire to give her shivering and soaking wet form some warmth.

“I just �� she wasn’t crying and they —“

You sobbed, as if not hearing his question, burying your head into your arms. It didn’t take Azriel long to piece together what had happened, and he knew that you needed medical attention.

“Hold still,”

He muttered, stamping out the fire and gathering the few things he’d brought, before gently lifting you into his arms, and in a swirl of shadows and magic, you were somewhere completely new. He watched you carefully as he hurried to Madja’s tent. Your eyes were closed as you sobbed, and if he was assuming what had happened correctly, you had reason to.

The old female, always reliable with their medical issues, was in her tent, mixing up some concoction, her eyes widened as she laid eyes on you but then went right back to normal, into medic mode, where she couldn’t panic and risk making a mistake or scaring anyone.

“Lay her down.”

Her voice rang out, and Azriel obediently obeyed, laying you on the table and watching, his anxiety evident in the way he paced back and forth, swallowing. Madja began examining you, taking the restraints on your hands and your clothes off, and when he spotted the brand, the dark mark burnt into your skin that looked all too fresh, his temper flared beyond control and he growled. Madja gave him a look.

“If you can’t control yourself, then leave.”

Her sharp tone rang out, and he huffed, but knowing that his anger wouldn’t solve anything, he walked out of the tent, sparing your barely conscious form one last glance as you groaned, clearly in discomfort.

…

“You have a what?”

Cassian’s confused and shocked tone rang out from behind Rhys and Azriel. Az sighed. The bastard must’ve snuck in when they weren’t looking. Rhys looked a bit worried, and Azriel felt more anxious than he’d been in centuries.

“A daughter, she’s a…witch.”

Cassian choked on his spit at that, watching Azriel’s frantic pacing. Rhys put his hand on the shadowsinger’s shoulder, stopping his constant movement in an attempt to soothe him.

“It’ll be fine, Azriel. We’ll work this out.”

“She could die, Rhys. I think she’d just given birth when I found her, it went wrong somehow, and those other witches marked her. They fucking marked her.”

Azriel snapped, eyes filled with such anguish, anger, and grief already that neither of them knew what to say, except to remain silent and think about the situation they were in and how to make it better.

Cassian carefully approached Azriel, with a look and demeanor he’d seen before. It was like he saw him as a wounded animal, like a soldier after the battle, scarred and mentally torn apart.

“All we can do is wait and see, Az.”

His voice, a bit softer than usual, though still gruff, spoke. His eyes held sympathy and understanding, as did Rhys’, but also caution and concern. A witch was dangerous. They knew that just as well as anyone.

*********************************************************

The first thing you registered was that you were in a lot of pain, with stitches being put in your body, and needles being poked every which way. You groaned and shifted, only for old, worn hands to put you right back into place, and a vague voice telling you to “stop moving.” before you felt another needle on the inside of your wrist, and you fell back into sleep again.

The next time you woke, you felt more numb this time, opening your eyes to be met with the sight of a room, ornate, the floor a rich red carpet with patterns on it, the ceiling wooden and going upwards to a point. There was some bland wooden furniture in the room, one mirror, and a large window that light bled through despite the light curtains on it.

A male was sitting beside you. Two of them. Three. They were talking amongst themselves. You hadn’t opened your eyes yet, content to listen.

“— but they gave her up, didn’t they?”

“Technically, yes. I think it’s well within our rights to keep her here if they moved her out of the camp.”

“So she’s ours?”

“She is no one’s.”

The dark voice that cut through the conversation finally made you open your eyes. You recognized that, and his scent…it was familiar, somehow. As soon as you opened your eyes and began to shift, they were all at attention, watching closely.

One in particular stood out to you, the dark male, shrouded by shadows, hazel eyes that resembled your own. All three had wings, leathery bat-like things, one of the males was more brusque and muscular, offering a little grin, the other looking more proper like a pretty Court boy, with his violet eye. All of them had dark hair.

You stared until the shadowy one spoke.

“What’s your name?”

He asked lowly, voice smooth and soothing. His scarred hands twitched up as if wanting to hold you or touch you, or anything he could to fix you.

“Y/N.”

You answered, swallowing as you tried to sit up, wincing as you felt the clothes that had been put on you, similar to a hospital gown, rub against the stitches in your body, and the branding on your stomach. The minute a hint of discomfort entered your expression, the scarred hands of the male were there, gently helping ease you up as you sat against the headboard of the bed, probably looking like death. The minute you were sat up, his hands went away, as if he realized what he had done.

“Sorry.”

He muttered, hands retreating into his lap from the chair. The other male, the violet-eyed one, then cleared his throat and spoke.

“I’m Rhysand,”

He said with a small polite smile, clearly faked, as you could smell how unsure he was, even a bit anxious, as it was in his scent. The brusque-looking one then spoke up with a wolf’s grin, one that wasn’t faked at all.

“Cassian,”

He said before you turned to face the last one. He swallowed, looking a bit anxious.

“Azriel. I’m..your father, or related to you somehow.”

Your brow scrunched in confusion, eyes glancing back at his wings. He might have been your father, but not likely, given how long the trait of wings had been in your bloodline. From what you knew, it had started with your grandmother, then passed to your mother, then you. You sighed, looking uncomfortable but speaking.

“How many years ago was it?” How many years has it been since you fucked a witch?

He swallowed, now looking more uncomfortable, and Cassian snorted, clearly just thinking his eldest brother had gone off and had some fun with a witch, while Rhys shot the male a glare.

“Three centuries.”

He got out quietly, the tiniest of blushes on his cheeks. Your mind was spinning, but you managed to get one coherent thought out.

“You’re my grandfather.”

You said in a dry, clearly uncomfortable tone. Cassian couldn’t stop his laughter at that, even when Rhys elbowed him hard.

“He’s got a grandkid! I don’t believe it —“

He wheezed until Rhys shot Azriel and you an apologetic look, grumbling something to Azriel as he dragged him out of the room, shutting the door behind him. The shadowsinger seemed relieved to be alone with you.

“I’m sorry about what happened, with..everything, I should’ve been there-“

“Don’t. You probably didn’t even know I existed.”

You cut him off, your tired voice still firm. You let your iron nails slide out if only to check that they were still there and undamaged. They were shiny and sharp as ever, untouched. They slid back up as if never there, and you yawned, going to lay back down in the bed. He helped you lay down, scarred hands lingering and taking your hand into his own as he looked into your eyes, multiple emotions mingling inside.

You sighed, giving a tiny tug to his hand.

“C’mere.”

You said, and he easily obliged, tossing his shoes to the floor, but leaving his shirt and pants on as he crawled into the bed beside you, cradling your body gently against his. His hands made sure to avoid the brand on you, the fresh stitches, but they brushed over the large scars on your back from where your wings had been ripped off when you were born.

“You had wings?”

He asked, a pain clear in his voice as your head lay against his chest.

“Had.”

You replied, the exhaustion clear in your tone. Anger flared up in him, for those witches for laying a finger on you, taking your wings and branding you, for them treating you so horribly.

“I’ll never let them touch you again, I promise.”

He said, an inky black marking forming on his back, and on yours, that of a star forming with swirls all around and in it, right between the scars on your back. You gave a little hum of acknowledgment, head moving up to bury itself in his neck, deeply inhaling his scent.

It smelt like home, at last.

[romanoffsbish]

You Could Never Hurt Me

Beefy!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

I was challenged [I read something someone said (you can only go so soft when you have that much beef in the mix), and made it an unnecessary challenge 🤭]

Warnings: Jealousy, Insecure Nat, aka really soft.

Smut: Ab Riding (R), Fingering (R), Oral (N).

18+ | Minors DNI

Natasha smiled as she entered the kitchen, it was an unstoppable reaction when seeing you. You’d always been so excitable, so it’s no shock to her that you’re animatedly relaying your last nights events to a bleary eyed Wanda who’s sipping her tea, and mindlessly nodding along.

“This really pretty girl asked for my number!” You shrieked, and Natasha instantly frowned. “Can you believe it Wands? I was shocked.”

Natasha’s frown had managed to deepen, she could believe it without question, you were perfect, too much so for her to ever have, she’d never be enough for you. She was too gruff, and she would only ever hurt you with her ways.

You deserved a tenderness she didn’t feel she could offer you, and it seems you found it.

—

That had her heart actually snapping in two, she left the kitchen rather abruptly with an unfinished breakfast left behind in her wake.

Wanda shook her head as Natasha took off, she heard her thoughts, and they were followed up by your very own, “You should tell her Y/N/N.”

“It’s no use Wands, she didn’t even look my way,” you dejectedly sigh, and the witch nearly chokes on her cooled beverage, “Are you blind? Her eyes were literally on you the whole time.”

“Why? Is there something on my face?”

“Not yet,” she grumbles, and you softly pout, “I anticipate my hand will leave quite the mark.”

“That’s not very nice, I’m having a crisis, and you want to threaten me,” you huffed, crossing your arms for emphasis as you turned away.

Wanda cackled as she settled her mug down, she slowly made her way over to you, and pulled you in for a hug you didn’t reciprocate, “You are blind, but hear me when I say, she wants you Y/N, but she’s scared of hurting you. Of not being enough, and a whole lot of things you should talk about with her, try tonight.”

Tonight, the Avengers annual charity gala…

—

Natasha paced her room for hours thinking about what you said. She didn’t stick around to hear if the mystery girl was going to be your plus one tonight, her heart would’ve imploded. The thought of someone else loving you hurt her more than she ever thought imaginable.

But as the time for the party neared she shook off the resentment, she’d try being happy for you tonight, and bury her love for you instead.

That’s what she thought until she saw you at least, you looked stunning, she wasn’t shocked. Of course you did, you managed to make lazy outfits attractive, so you dressed to the nines being the hottest thing she’d ever seen fits.

“You’re drooling,” Yelena chides as she settles by her sister at the bar, and throws up two fingers to the bartender in a silent order.

“Zamolchi,” she grumbled bitterly as she accepted the shot from her sister, downing it in one swift motion that almost painted her as a drunk with the way she didn’t even wince.

(Shut up)

“Go talk to her Natasha,” Yelena encouraged, “She’s got the heart eyes for you, I promise.”

Yelena was your very best friend, even above Wanda, so if anyone knew it’d be her, plus, she was a trained spy, but even more so she had hazel eyes that could see the painfully obvious.

Natasha went to shake her head, to vehemently negate the blondes claims of reciprocity, but then she was in direct route to you before the spitfire beside her could beat her to the punch.

Literally—she punched a sleaze square in the jaw without even breaking a sweat, then she instinctively wrapped her strong arms around your trembling form, “Shh, it’s okay malysh, please don’t cry, you’re safe here, I promise.”

A fluttering commenced in the redheads chest when you burrowed further into her, “I know,” your whispered acknowledgment melted her even further. The redhead gently swayed you, and she smiled softly when your short arms did their best to wrap around her toned body.

The two of you stood there in your embrace for a few minutes, paying no mind to the posse of Avengers that corralled the asshole and gave him the ass kicking of his life for touching you. You weren’t an Avenger, just their assistant for all things PR, but they all loved you as family.

Natasha looked up from your face smushed against her chest, she surveyed the building crowd and she felt a need to shield you further. You’d always hated the attention, so she took it upon herself to lift you off the ground with her hands under your thighs for leverage as she took you as far away from there as possible.

Once she made it to your shared hall she set you down, “Want to watch a movie Y/N?”

“Can we just cuddle instead please Natty?”

Natasha nodded and pulled back causing you to whine, “Come back,” you reached for her and she softly snorted, “I’m getting snacks.”

You wanted to protest, to pull her back in, but for starters you were no match for her strength, and you also had plans that warranted future sustenance so you let her go without a fight.

As soon as she reentered her room she was shocked to find you on her bed in only a sports bra, and short as can be sleep shorts. Keeping her breathing steady was an act of desperation, and when you looked at her so innocently she believed it, missing the way your eyes smirked.

“I got chips, and some bean dip,” she said as she held up the loot, her eyes were lightly hazy and you knew then that Wanda wasn’t lying. Honestly you found her endearing, the way she held eye contact with you over letting her gaze wander like she wanted, “I also stole you a brown sugar pop-tart from Thor’s stash.”

You clapped giddily, “Yes! You’re the best!” then you catapulted from atop the bed and right into her flexed arms. Natasha huffed, and if not for her strength she’d have likely been laid out flat on the floor in a mess of snacks, with a delectable one atop her. However she caught you with ease, and settled the bags down before doing the same with herself.

Natasha’s heart rate was already racing with you on her, it soon picked up though with the way you gently shifted to straddle her lap. She’d cuddled you many times, each one a test of her willpower that she usually won, but you were not helping her as you softly ground your hips into hers while maintaining her gaze, she believed it to be unintentional, but then you suddenly kissed her and she knew it wasn’t.

“Y/N…” she whimpered against your lips, a silent plea for you to stop, but she didn’t mean it, she just feared this was an adrenaline rush sort of response on your end, and she wanted it to be so much more, you were her dream girl.

“Shh, let me thank you properly Natasha,” you pressed against her shoulders, the action was in vain as you were unable to move the brick of a woman, but fortunately for you her already thin resolve had crumbled, so she laid down.

With a nod of approval, and a soft touch you removed her suit jacket, and grey camisole. Natasha’s chiseled physique was even better than you’d imagine it to be, and you were more than ready for her to show you her strength.

“You’re so beautiful Nat,” you ran your fingers over her arms, feeling the muscles beneath jerking at your simple touch, seeing as her skin flushed at your ministrations, and watching as she tried desperately to speak, “Th-thanks.”

You smiled, “You’re most certainly welcome,” and then you leaned down to kiss her again, you were lost in the warm feeling brought on by her lips on yours, but when her whimper reverberated in your mouth, and as you felt your cunt clench with need you were upright, and her black slacks and panties went with you.

Natasha’s chest heaved as she tried to calm herself down, which was proving impossible as she had a front row seat to you undressing. You were sure to put on a show as you discarded your bra, and twisted your pebbled nipples, the both of you groaning in tandem at the gesture.

Then went your shorts, and she audibly choked when she saw how wet you already were for her. It was over for her though when she felt you slip your drenched panties into her clenched hand, and on instinct she brought them to her face, and sniffed, “Trakhni menya.”

(Fuck me)

“Oh, I plan to,” you winked and she spluttered from beneath you in clear need of information, “I’m your PR assistant Nat, I know my stuff.”

Natasha moaned languidly when she felt your slick drip into the grooves of her abdomen, she was desperate to grab you, to guide you, but she was too afraid to hurt you, so she didn’t. This very fact was clear to you when you saw her brows painfully furrowed, with her hands clenched at her side as you continued to grind.

With a softness you kissed her brow until it settled beneath your lips, your hands unfurled her own, and you guided them to your waist. Natasha’s eyes shot open fearfully, but you stopped her protests with a sloppy, heated kiss, you wanted to encourage her to follow her instincts, but all she did was try to let you go.

“Nat, please,” you whimpered, placing her hands back on your hips again, and she sighed, “I don’t want to hurt you Y/N… Please…”

“Oh Natty,” you softly chuckled, slowing your grinding down as you focused on her worried pout, “You could never hurt me, you’re my Natty bear, the one who cuddles me close on movie nights, who goes to the store at 1am to get me ice cream just because I’m cramping, and the one who defends my honor in ways that drive me absolutely up the wall. I need you, so please, just touch me, and don’t stop.”

Natasha smiled genuinely, and as you picked the pace back up she decided to aide you once you got sloppy with your movements. With a soft grip she guided your cunt against her abs, she flexed them every time she pulled you down, and you rewarded her with a loud moan, and a gush of your essence on her flushed skin.

You fell into her, crashing your lips to hers for a kiss that left you both panting in seconds. Natasha gently flipped your positions, she ran a calloused thumb over the side of your face, and watched you slowly returning to yourself.

“Hi,” you meekly greeted and she chuckled breathlessly, “Hey there pretty girl,” she kissed you tenderly, and you became absolute mush.

Natasha wasn’t done with you now that she’d had a little taste, her lips moved from yours to nip at your skin wherever she could, and she smirked when you clutched at her biceps in a silent plea of clear desperation for her touch.

“I’m going to take care of you sweetheart,” she trailed her fingers down your body, every part of you she grazed over tensed as she was in clear route to your dripping sex, and once she made it there you were writhing with need.

“Calm down baby,” her hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs, the force of her grip alone had you mewling as the sinful thought of her thick fingers venturing further, and delving deep inside you flooded your hazy mind.

“Is it okay baby?” she spread your thighs, and nodded towards your cunt, “Wanna feel you.”

“Please,” you fisted the sheets as you pleaded, your hips rose up instinctively, and she gently pushed them back into the mattress with a soft kiss being placed above your pelvic bone before her fingers finally pushed inside of you.

“I can’t believe this is real,” she grunted in amazement, the feel of you wrapped around her was something she’d only ever dreamed of, and to feel your warmth in real time was wildly intoxicating, and she knew without doubt it’d would be impossible to let you go after tonight.

“Natty please, more,” you reached down and dug your nails into her muscular shoulders, Natasha hissed softly as you managed to make her bleed, but she would never complain, in fact she only aimed to please so she gave you a third finger that ended up being your vice.

“Is that what you needed?” she smirked up at you, your mouth was wide open, spewing the most obscene moans she’d ever heard as she thrusted her fingers into you just right, “You look so pretty for me baby,” she circled your clit with her rough thumb and you screamed.

You really did look like a vision with your body shaking uncontrollably on the bed, her fingers damn near trapped inside of you as your walls squeezed her impossibly tight, you were in the depths of euphoria, and you looked like you belonged nowhere else but in her bed for her to take at any given moment, “Such a good girl, you drenched my hand baby, thank you.”

Natasha lifted her fingers up to her lips, her eyes that were voided with speckles of green swimming around had fluttered shut as soon as your essence caressed her tastebuds, she was so incredibly aroused by your existence, and your unique taste only made her even more so. It’s had a similar affect on you too, the sight of her alone always had you warm, but hearing her appreciative moans left you a bit of a mess.

Then when she looked at you with that smirk of hers, the one that tells you she knows she’s hot stuff it made you desperate for a repeat attack. But then you got a grip of yourself, and the one more prominent thought was wanting to please her,which is was what you had set out to do.

“Natasha, I was meant to be thanking you,” you whined when she laid down beside you, she only chuckled as she pulled your body on top or hers with ease, “Tasting you was all the reward I needed malysh, it’s all good baby.”

You felt her thighs clench, as if her body was trying to call her out for lying, and you decided to do the same, “I can feel you Nat,” you said it so softly, because embarrassing her wasn’t the goal, “Your wetness is all over my stomach.”

“Y/N,” she tried to settle your curiosity, but your blown out eyes and finger over her lip told her the downplaying over her need was futile.

“Then how about you let me have a turn?” you asked, and she nodded dumbly, because truth be told she was powerless to your advances, “It’s only fair I get a taste,” you reasoned, the way you looked down at her spurred on an uncharacteristic whimper from deep within.

“I know you’re going to taste divine my love,” you purred as you pecked her lips, Nat felt her heart speed up at your slip of tongue, she could get used to being yours, she already had.

Natasha squirmed as you pried her legs open, she honestly felt so exposed, it was unfamiliar territory, but at the same time she trusted you with her life, even if she could toss you around, she knew from an emotional end you had her.

“So pretty for me baby,” you admired her body, the new angle was picturesque really, her arms were perfectly defined, certain muscles flexed as she clenched her fists, her abs prominently flexed too as she waited for you to tend to her.

This woman could easily destroy you, and you’d let her, but here you have her laid out for you in a way you knew she didn’t just let anyone see. You cherished the idea that you were that special to her, and you vowed right there to never break that trust she had in you.

“Are you ready baby?” you licked over the salty skin of her thigh teasingly as you awaited her response, and when she breathlessly pleaded for you to do something you dove into her cunt.

Natasha couldn’t breath for the first thirty seconds as you lapped away at her, never in her life had she been this desperate or sensitive, but you’d also never been naked in her bed before today so it all seemed to be adding up.

Soon it was you who was unable to breathe. So lost in the pleasure she clamped her thighs shut around you, her quads held your head in an unforgiving grip. You were without oxygen but you honestly couldn’t be bothered to care when all you wanted was to please her, to feel her walls flutter around your tongue, to have her heady scent permanently on your upper lip.

Natasha came about a minute later, your name torn from her throat like a prayer she’d needed answered, and in a shocking manner her taut legs trembled, and therefore relinquished their hold on you. As you gasped for air Natasha began to realize what had likely happened, but before she could panic you were smiling at her, your face absolutely drenched in her essence.

In this exact moment, under the bright light of the moon you’d never looked more beautiful.

Natasha pulled you up from between her legs, and into a strong, but unsurprisingly gentle embrace as you worked to breathe steadily. Once she heard your breathing temper she lifted your head and pulled you into a kiss.

“I love you Y/N,” she whispered her confession against your lips, and when you pulled back she looked at you with soft eyes that swam with a vulnerability reminiscent of fear, and so you cupped her cheek, your eyes glistened with joy and you kissed her again, “I love you too.”

Natasha’s embrace tightened, you buried your face into her neck, and sighed, “Goodnight,” as she lifted the duvet over your bodies.

“Just to be clear, you didn’t give that girl your number right?” she meekly broke the silence.

You cackled tiredly against her, “Never even considered it Nat, I was too hung up on you.”

Natasha kissed your cheek, you could feel her smirking as she did, and you rolled your eyes.

“Go to sleep, let your ego get some rest,” you teased, and she chuckled, “Goodnight Y/N.”

——

3,116 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥩

[charmandabear]

Blood and Brandy

Summary:

Astarion and Jaheira both need a little bit of a release after the events with the Elder Brain.

Pairing: Astarion/Jaheira Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3.3k Tags/Warnings: outdoor sex, piv, cunnilingus, vampire bites, praise kink, pet names

She's writing again! And this one was particularly fun to write, thank you @whispering-depths for the commission! I've gotten into the gif making game, so here are a few more inspired by this fic. Also, huge shout outs to @githyankidanky, @danse--macabre, and @sanguine-sunlight for championing the Jahstarion tag, y'all are the real heroes of this fic.

Read it on AO3.

Astarion comes swaggering into the Elfsong, waving down Alan for his usual post-hunt wine. It’s rarely a pleasant taste, but after the thrill of taking down an elk twice the size of him, he needs something to help him settle down enough to trance. He has no idea what time it is, only that it’s after midnight, so he’s surprised to see Jaheira sitting in an armchair in the corner, nursing a brandy and reading an issue of The Baldur’s Mouth. After swiping his wine glass off the bar, he makes his way over to her, hoping that his gait is more of a saunter than a stumble.

“Well if it isn’t the noble Jaheira,” he croons, perching himself on the arm of her chair and leaning his elbow onto the back. “Don’t you know that the Witching Hour is only for vampires and the deeply lonely?”

“How convenient, then, that you are both,” she lobs back at him, keeping her eyes on her newspaper.

Astarion gasps dramatically, clutching invisible pearls at his chest. “Jaheira, I’m hurt! How can you call me lonely when I have such lovely company right here?” He leans over her shoulder and her musky fragrance mixes with the spice of brandy, the intoxicating combination going directly to his head.

Jaheira drops her paper slightly, looking up at Astarion over her reading glasses. “I am not fooled by your theatrics, Astarion, I saw your little pout when you learned that Tav went to Avernus with Karlach.” She folds up her paper and smirks. “It isn’t easy seeing your ex and their new beau together.”

Astarion bristles slightly before slipping the mask back on. “Nonsense, Tav and I both agreed it was for the best to remain friends back at Last Light, I couldn’t be happier for them and Karlach.”

“Uh-huh,” Jaheira deadpans, thoroughly unconvinced. “And after they helped free you from your old master’s control, your feelings about intimacy did not change?”

Astarion sweeps over to the chair across from Jaheira, dropping himself into it and crossing his legs. He studies her for a moment, simultaneously discomforted and intrigued by her surprisingly accurate read on him. She smirks, the skin around her striking hazel eyes crinkling, and Astarion shifts under her penetrating gaze.

“Why do you ask, are you interested?” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, although whether from nervousness or simply old habits, he’s unsure. 

“A cute young thing like you?” Jaheira barks out a laugh. “I’m not sure if I could keep up.”

Astarion giggles, a little surprised by the giddy twinge that shoots through his core. “Jaheira, I’m older than you, by a good century.”

“And yet your skin is so smooth and supple. You must tell me your skincare secrets.” She narrows her eyes mischievously, crossing her legs and taking a sip of her brandy.

“A steady diet of the blood of the innocents will do wonders for your complexion,” Astarion grins, flashing just a hint of fang. Jaheira’s smile widens.

“Lucky for me, then, it sounds like I’m safe,” she retorts, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d almost think that the tips of his ears tinge pink.

The two quickly lose track of time, their comfortable banter and friendly jabs making it pass quickly. It’s only when Alan announces last call that they fully take stock of just how empty the Elfsong has become.

“Ah, the life of an insomniac isn’t an easy one,” Jaheira sighs. “Would you care to join me on my nightly walk to find the sandman?” She stands and stretches, and Astarion can’t keep his wandering eye from traveling down her figure.

“I can think of a few ways to tire you out,” he offers, making little attempt to hide the seduction in his voice. It’s a bit of a clumsier proposal than he’s capable of, but honestly at this point, he knows they can both use a release.

“I’m sure you could, cub,” she chuckles as she crosses over to him and pats his cheek, enjoying watching him try to hide the flustered look that creeps onto his face.

The night air is refreshing, and the city streets feel almost eerily quiet. They stroll aimlessly past darkened windows, neither really paying attention to where they’re going, until they find themselves wandering into the graveyard. Astarion surprises himself when he realizes that he’s subconsciously led Jaheira to a distantly familiar ivy-covered headstone. He pauses in front of it, his eyes tracing the faint outline of his name.

“Two hundred years,” he says quietly, and Jaheira peers over his shoulder. He looks back at her and chuckles, “That’s longer than you’ve been alive, gran.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jaheira groans. She looks on contemplatively, then adds, “You know, I don’t think I fully expressed how proud I am of you for stopping Cazador’s ritual.”

Astarion makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a giggle. “You’re just trying to make me blush, aren’t you?”

“Maybe as a nice little side effect, perhaps,” she says coyly, sliding her eyes over to him. “But truly. With how much you have suffered, it takes a lot of strength to turn down all that power. And now, with a tadpole free brain, you can’t even go into the sun anymore.” She taps on his forehead to emphasize the point, and he swats her hand away playfully. Then her eyes unfocus slightly, and Astarion realizes she’s gone somewhere else entirely. “In my youth, I don’t know if I would’ve been strong enough.”

He studies her profile, brow furrowed as she loses herself in her memory. “I wouldn’t have expected the Great Jaheira to be tempted by something so base as a little power,” he says, punctuating his statement with that high pitched giggle of his. 

She returns to reality and flashes a grin at him. “You’d be surprised what I was tempted by when I was younger.”

Astarion’s eyebrows disappear into his well-coiffed hair. “Oh really? Do tell.”

“Another Rite of questionable morals,” she says with a humorless laugh. “Although admittedly, fewer sacrificed souls in the process. The Rite of Timeless Body, an old druidic ritual practiced by some of the more esoteric circles, allows the practitioner to extend their life span well beyond its natural reach.” 

Astarion crosses his arms and nods approvingly, taking a step back to get a renewed look at Jaheira. “Walking away from immortality takes some steel, I’m impressed.”

She shrugs noncommittally. “It feels a little less impressive when I’m standing in a graveyard in the last few decades of my life with a handsome young vampire who is a hundred years older than me.”

“If you want me to make you feel young again, you only need to ask,” Astarion grins salaciously, and Jaheira barks out a laugh.

“I might be younger than you, but I’m far too old to fall for your lines, cub,” she says, patting his cheek again. He grabs her hand, suddenly but not forcefully, and presses his lips to the inside of her wrist.

“Then maybe you can teach this old dog some new tricks,” he breathes against her skin, looking at her through heavy lidded eyes. She bites down on her tongue to keep her breath steady.

“So hungry now that he’s free,” she smirks, letting her hand cup his cheek. The stark contrast in temperature makes both of them shiver.

“Don’t tell me it’s not what you want,” he coos. “It’s been too long since Khalid, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, so this is for my benefit?” She lets herself step a bit closer to him, his bergamot perfume clouding her senses. “How very selfless of you, Astarion.”

He pulls on her wrist to close the distance between their bodies, putting her hand in his hair but keeping their faces a few inches apart. Waiting for her to make the final move. Surprisingly considerate, she notes to herself. She feels him pressed against her, his sinewy muscles pleasant against her soft flesh. His breath on her lip is cool, almost refreshing, with just a hint of lingering wine.

She leans in to kiss him, rough and unsteady, and his hands quickly move to her hips and squeeze her tight. He pushes her back until she’s up against a tree, pressing his knee up between her legs as he kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

“Don’t think you can get a free meal out of this,” she warns, but the sharp edge of her statement was dulled by her breathlessness. Astarion laughs against her skin.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling,” he hums between kisses, his fingers nimbly undoing the buttons down the front of her tunic. She arches her back into him as he slides his hand around her waist, his palm cool against her flushed skin.

“Ah-ah,” she slows him, pushing his hand away from her waist. He pulls away, wondering if she’s suddenly changed her mind, but she appears to be listening intently. “Not here, it’s too–”

“Close to civilization?” he smirks, raising an eyebrow.

“I was going to say sacred, but I suppose that’s true too,” she laughs. He grabs her hand and pulls her to the city wall on the outskirts of the graveyard. After a moment of struggle, he clambors to the top of it, looking down at her with an extended hand.

“Need help?” he asks and she rolls her eyes, smoothly shifting into her panther form and leaping over the wall with ease. She shifts back and looks up at him smugly as Astarion pinches his lips together, breath slightly uneven, his cock already pushing into the fabric of his pants. He drops down on the other side and she pulls him in by the collar for another messy kiss. 

“I’m starting to think you’re the one who can’t keep up with me,” she murmurs into his lips, giving his hair a quick tug. She delights in watching him struggle to keep his composure, hiding his want with a disaffected smile.

It doesn’t take long for them to find a grassy outcropping on the side of the mountain below the city. Jaheira shrugs off her tunic as Astarion makes quick work of removing his blousey linen top. Once they’re both shirtless, they crash back together, skin against skin, their mouths working hungrily against one another. Astarion pushes her up against a steep rocky slope of the mountain, palming her soft freckled breast in his hand. She inhales sharply as he flicks his thumb over her nipple, feeling it harden in the cool night air. 

She grabs him by the hair and pushes him down so that his lips line up with the sensitive pink flesh. He smiles as he swirls his tongue around the pert bud, and she sighs as her head falls back against the rock behind her. She holds onto his shoulders, unabashedly digging her nails into his skin. He ever so slightly teases her nipple with his front teeth, and he’s delighted when her hips buck into him.

“More interested in a bite than you first thought, eh Jaheira?” he hums, and she glares down at him.

“On your knees, vampire, and we’ll see,” she growls, and the tone of her voice makes Astarion’s cock twitch. He happily complies, and he can already smell her arousal through the cotton of her trousers. She might be able to feign apathy in her expression, but the heat of her cunt gives away how much she really wants him. He slides his fingers into her waistband and pulls her trousers down to her feet, which she quickly kicks off. He kneels forward to taste her but she stops him with the ball of her foot on his chest.

“You too,” she commands in a husky voice, her eyes flickering to the bulge in his leathers before locking back on his blood red eyes. His lips curl into a smile as he slides down his pants, maintaining eye contact with her. She breaks it when his cock springs free, only half hard and already impressive.

He digs his fingers into her hips and licks a stripe up her slit. She slides her fingers into his hair and drapes a leg over his shoulder, pinning him into position so she can maintain control. He laps up her arousal that’s pooling on her lips, threatening to drip. She quickly loses her hesitation to make noise, and her breathy moans as his tongue dives in and around her folds make his cock ache. He tries to subtly stroke himself as he continues to work her with his tongue, but she looks down and catches him.

“So needy, aren’t you, cub?” she purrs, and the noise he makes in response to the pet name is frankly a bit embarrassing. She laughs but it swiftly dissolves into a moan as he flicks his tongue across the hood of her clit. She tightens her hands in his hair and he increases the pace of his tongue, trying to keep up with the rutting of her hips against his face. The sounds of her pleasure as she gets closer to release, now unrestrained, only serve to spur him on further. He darts his tongue in and out of her, stopping only to lightly suckle on her clit.

“Ah– gods— Astarion!'' She shouts his name as she climaxes and he continues to lick her through her orgasm, feeling her pussy throb against his lips. He clutches her thigh as she slowly comes down, panting, and then eventually she releases the tight hold she had on his hair, ruffling it lightly.

“Well done, you know what you’re doing,” she says breathlessly, and he uses his palm to wipe his mouth clean.

“What can I say other than years of practice?” he smirks, standing and pressing his body to hers, his erection thick against her thigh. “I’ll give you a minute to recover, you old crone.”

“I’m ready for round two when you are, pretty boy,” she vaults back, pulling him in for another sloppy kiss. He slides his hand under her inner thigh and pulls her leg up, pinning her knee to the rocky cliff face. He positions the tip of his cock at her entrance, pausing just long enough to tease her into another growl. She squeezes a hand in his hair and he takes the hint to slide into her, their groans of pleasure mingling in the night air. 

He begins to pump in and out of her at a steady pace, her walls squeezing around his cock with every thrust. He drops his head into the crook of her neck, breathing hard and inhaling the sweet scent of her sweat. He peppers her flesh with desperate kisses, nipping at her skin without breaking it. She knows he won’t bite without permission, but he’s also not bothering to hide how much he wants to. She grabs his hair and pulls his ear to her lips.

“Just once,” she hisses, and he lets out a shuddering moan. “Somewhere I can cover, and no drinking.”

“Yes ma’am,” he groans, and bites down into the flesh where her neck meets her shoulder. She clenches around his cock at the sudden pain, but he quickly follows it with soothing licks to the bite mark. 

“Good boy,” she pants as he laps at her neck, and the praise causes him to push into her even harder, until a particularly jagged rock hits her spine. She puts her hand to his chest to get him to stop. “Astarion, wait.”

He pulls away from her, and she finds his dazed expression with his hair falling into his eyes to be surprisingly charming.

“Get on your back,” she hums, jerking her head towards the soft grass nearby. He lets out a visible sigh of relief before quickly positioning himself on his back, resting on his elbows to watch as she saunters over to him. She stands over him for a minute, appreciating the light flush across his normally very pale skin. He wets his lips as she gets to her knees, teasing him with her cunt in revenge for his earlier cheekiness. 

She sinks down onto him as he raises his hips needily to meet her. He grabs her thighs as she rides him, his fingers dimpling the soft flesh. She braces herself on his chest with a hand, her nails digging into his skin as she rocks her hips into him.

“Gods, Jaheira, you’re–” Astarion pants, the words getting caught in his throat. His head falls back into the soft grass and he arches his back into her. 

“Finally speechless, eh, Astarion?” she chuckles, and he shoots a glare back at her that quickly melts into a whimper. She pulls his face up to hers, treating him with another sloppy kiss before pushing his lips back to her tits. He eagerly takes her into his mouth, licking and sucking the sensitive skin. He ruts his hips into her as she grinds down on him, eagerly chasing her second release. He grazes his teeth against her breast and she shudders before yanking him back by his hair.

“Don’t be a brat,” she hisses through gritted teeth, and Astarion flashes her a self-satisfied grin.

“No need to keep up appearances. It’s clear that you want me to. No one will see it, and we both get what we want.” He lightly brushes her nipple with his tongue and she grunts as she tries to stifle her moan. “Come, Jaheira, let me make you purr,” he hums into her skin, nipping to punctuate his sentence.

“Fine,” she grumbles and lets go of his hair. “But one wrong move, vampire, and I’ll keep you pinned here until sunrise.” He grins and eagerly bites down, puncturing her skin but keeping his promise not to drink. He laps at the dark red drops that drip down the curve of her breast and she groans, arching her back and pushing her tits further into his mouth. He takes her encouragement and bites again, making a twin mark on the other side of her chest. She claws into his shoulders, bracing herself rather than telling him to stop.

The contrasting sensations of the ice cold shard of pain with the cool balm of his tongue afterwards is unlike anything Jaheira has ever felt, and she can feel the pressure building in her core. She moves her hand down to her clit and begins rubbing small circles in time with Astarion’s upward thrusts. He smirks and increases his pace, spurred on by her pleasure. 

“That’s it, cub, keep going,” she moans, and his balls begin to tighten at the praise. He grabs onto her hips, pulling her down onto him hard as he continues to fuck up into her, rapidly losing control of his speed. “Come for me, cub.”

It’s all he needs. A burst of pleasure rockets through his core as he spills into her, feeling her walls clench and throb around him as her own orgasm tears through her body. Her unabashed cries of pleasure only heightens the feeling, riding out the long waves of her climax with his rapidly softening dick.

When the ripples finally settle and the two of them are left breathing hard, Jaheira pulls off him and Astarion admires the sight of his thick seed dripping down her leg. She catches him looking and chuckles, “Just be grateful I’m too old to bring any dhampirs into this world.”

Astarion guffaws, still a little giddy from his orgasm and struggling to parse what the fuck just happened. “Trust me, no one needs that less than me,” he says with a breathless laugh. 

They clean themselves up in a comfortable silence, carefully picking up their swiftly discarded garments and redressing. They briefly make eye contact before bursting into sudden laughter.

Jaheira shakes dirt out of her hair and says, “Well this most certainly will not happen again.”

“Absolutely not,” Astarion agrees, but he can’t stop himself from smiling when he sees the light flush bloom across her freckled cheeks. They lock eyes on one another again before quickly looking away.

It’s a long walk back to the Elfsong.

@marvellover-12 @marlowethebard @pursuitseternal @imjiminiebean @gylving @beepersteeper

[lettersfromaphrodite]

[2.22]

― pairing : Han Jisung x fem! reader ― content warnings : angst, fluff, implied smut, wolf au, reader is a witch, soulmates, medieval settings as always, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fantasy au ; for the witch hunter part I kinda got inspired by the Merlin and Freya story but without the tragic ― word count : 2.670

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

🐺🔮 WOLVES! STRAY KIDS SERIES

Chris part one | part two // Changbin // Jisung // Hyunjin // Seungmin // Minho part one | part two // Felix // Jeongin

Branches roughly scratched your face and your arms, the sound of the dry leaves breaking under your feet as you desperately ran through the woods, trying to save yourself in what had started as a quiet and cool autumn morning.

Gritting your teeth as every limb in your body started to ache, your left hand was tightly pressed on the bloody wound on your right side, disheartened by the fact that you couldn’t use magic to heal your wound. You felt your own blood wetting your trembling fingers, and you wanted to cry, both by the pain you were feeling and both because you didn’t even have time to rest for a few seconds.

So, you kept running, a hunter following you close behind. You have been hearing rumours spreading through your village that the King had called for a hunter to investigate presumed supernatural events that started to happen at the court, but you had never thought that said hunter would have chased you as soon as he arrived. You did not have anything to do with the alleged magic episodes happening in the Castle, but you have heard from your mentor witch that hunters never stopped in front of anything.

Witches, werewolves, shapeshifters; the hunters would hunt everyone, trap them, and execute them on a public square. Therefore, their weapons and methods of capture improved through the years and adapted easily to every need.

This was the reason why you could not use your magic to defeat him, nor to heal yourself; your wound was caused by an enchanted blade, which would neutralize your magic unless someone else healed you.

A small clearing opened in front of you, and your heart sank at the view. Two wolves, one with ginger fur and hazel eyes, and the other with white fur and blue eyes immediately snapped their eyes towards you, both alerted and wary at your state and sudden appearance. Your eyes met hazel ones, and between all the pain, you felt a confusing warm sensation invading your senses.

«R-run,» you tried to say, but it came out as a raspy, weak whimper, «hunter.» you managed to add, pain clouding your senses, feeling as you were about to faint. You saw the wolves sharing a look, before the white wolf stopped the other from walking towards you, pushing him towards the woods behind them instead.

This was the last thing you saw before darkness enveloped your senses.

The dark night sky met your eyes as you woke up feeling sore due the metal bars against your back. Pain immediately shot through your side as you tried to move, blinking few times to gradually take in your surroundings as you weakly managed to breathe. Large, heavy metal cuff adorned your wrists, connecting them to the metal bars of the small cage you were trapped in. You were in one of the streets of the village, so that cage must have been the one that the hunter carried along with him, pulled by his horse; you hesitantly looked around, but did not find any trace of the hunter. With slow movements, the shackles rattled as you lifted the hem of your skirt, noticing that at least, your ankles hadn’t been tied up as well.

Tears blurred your vision, realizing that, that was it. You would have died like that, since you did not know any other witch who could heal you, let alone someone who could save you. Judging by the pain you constantly felt, the effects of the enchanted blade were still active, and you suspected that the handcuffs were enchanted too, if not the whole cage, meaning that you could not save yourself.

Basically, you were doomed. You closed your eyes as the hunter exited the tavern, leaning against the cage bar with a gloved hand.

«I hope you’re not feeling too cold, witch.» he spat, with an obnoxious and gruff voice. «They’ll warm you up soon enough.» with a merciless laugh, he walked away from you, and your heart sank even deeper.

“At least, for now they’re both safe.” You thought, your mind briefly recalling soft hazel eyes and fur as white as snow pushing him away.

You most definitely lost count of days; you could not stay awake, and you could barely sleep. You were stuck into an impasse. Night fell once again, hasty and sneaky whispers suddenly catching your attention, along with few low growls. You tried to identify the shadows approaching your cage, trying to help yourself with the light the full moon provided, wondering if the hunter changed his plans for you.

Fear spreaded through your body and the shackles rattled loudly as you attempted to press yourself even further against the metal bars, the desperate attempt to somehow save or shield yourself even if you were helpless and trapped. A boy around your age with white hair and long white eyelashes suddenly jumped on the carriage, in the front of the cage’s locked door, his index fingers in front his lips signalling you not to make any noise. You nodded at him, still trembling, just to notice another boy with light brown hair effortlessly climb on and kneel next to him.

«How’s it, Lix?» the boy asked the one with white hair, as they both studied the padlock.

«It’s a piece of cake.» the boy’s deep voice startled you, and he started picking at the padlock with what you thought was a thin fragment of sharpened iron. «Let’s say I expected more from a hunter’s cage.» he smiled to himself as the padlock opened with a soft “click”, and they both opened the door of the cage with slow movements, in order to prevent any squeaking noise from the rusty iron.

«We’re not going to hurt you,» The boy with light brown hair smiled warmly at you, two dimples appearing to corner his smile. «I’m Chris, and he’s Felix.» he gestured to the white haired boy which was now picking at the locks of the heavy handcuffs around your wrists. Felix looked up with a soft smile at the mention of his name. «There are others outside the cage. Me and my friends are here to save you.»

«Let’s save the introductions for later,» Felix mumbled, placing the handcuffs on your side, away from you, and your first instinct was to rub your red and sore wrists, «we’re running short on time.»

Chris nodded, and with a gentle «I’m so sorry for this.» he leaned towards you and picked you up as gently as he could, as you tried to suffocate another wave of pain running through your side. Chris effortlessly jumped down the carriage while holding you tight, and you noticed that “the others” which he was referring to were indeed a pack of wolves.

«Han, Seungmin, get her home. We’ll take care of him.» Chris said, and obediently, two large wolves slowly walked towards you. Your eyes met hazel ones, and the ginger wolf you saw few days earlier was looking at you as he was feeling your own pain.

«You’ll be fine now, your mate is here.» You heard Chris say once again, his gentle voice reaching your ears distant and muffled. The last thing you remember was being helped climbing on the back of the ginger wolf, which partially leaned down to help your movements, and you caressing a small fraction of his soft fur, feeling somehow as safe as you have never felt. You let yourself trust your saviours enough to close your eyes, and darkness once again enveloped your soul.

The feeling of dizziness was the first thing that welcomed you as soon as you woke up. An unfamiliar wooden ceiling met your tired eyes, and you realized that you have been laying on a soft mattress, instead of a metal cage.

Feeling an unfamiliar sensation of warmth around your right hand, you glanced down, just to see an asleep boy sitting on the floor with his head on the mattress, as he was still holding your hand. A strange sensation of familiarity pervaded your senses as you saw his delicate features cornered by long blondish hair.

You tried to sit up, but pain shot through your side again, and you whined, collapsing back on the bed, involuntarily waking the bow up. You were confused by the pain you were feeling; it was definitely different from the one generated by the enchanted blade. Could it be that your saviours found a way to heal you?

The boy blinked twice before noticing you were awake, and his eyes widened immediately.

«Here, let me help you.» he offered, his hand hanging in mid-air, waiting for your approval. Due to a strange pull you felt in your chest you found yourself nodding, and he delicately helped you sit up, your back lying comfortably against the fluffy cushions.

«I’m Jisung,» he smiled, reaching out to your nightstand to offer you a glass full of water, which you gladly accepted. «I’m part of the group that saved you last week.»

«Last week?!» you shrieked, your voice hoarse and your throat burning due to not having spoken with anyone not having drank anything for apparently, more than a week.

A sad smile adorned Jisung’s pretty lips, «We’re very lucky to be both alive.» he said, confusing you, but proceeded before you could ask. «There are other witches in the pack, they’re my friends’ mates.» you nodded, recalling Chris’ saying the same word that night. «They healed you, and took care of you.» due to you still dizzy state, you noticed only in that moment that you had been completely bathed and you weren’t definitely wearing your clothes anymore. You nodded, slowly taking in everything that happened and everything he said. You most definitely owed them your life.

«Thank you,» you offered Jisung a sweet, sincere smiled which he immediately mirrored. «But… How did you know I had been caught?» You furrowed your brows, waiting for Jisung to confirm your thoughts.

A pack of wolves mysteriously showed up after you’ve warned two wolves you randomly found on your way, and coincidentally, one of them had human features which reminded you of the white wolf you saw, so, this meant that-

«You told me yourself,» Jisung’s soft voice intruded your thoughts, and for some reason, your heart sparked up at the confirmation to Jisung being not only the ginger wolf you’ve seen but there was a probability of you being his mate. «I was going to pick you up immediately, but Felix convinced me it was probably better to alert the others and to come up with an actual plan to save you.»

«How am I even supposed to repay this debt.» you mumbled to yourself, throwing your head back and meeting yet another fluffy cushion. Jisung chuckled softly at your reaction.

«Come live with us, with me. I mean-us.» he said, blushing as he stuttered on his sentence and you softly giggled at him, rubbing your eyes with one hand.

«Whose house is this?» you asked, weakly, feeling yourself getting drowsy once again. «Mine.» Jisung said, taking away the empty glass from your hands. «Okay then,» you mumbled, «I’ll move in.» «I’ll be here when you’ll wake up.» was the last thing you heard Jisung say, before you fell into a peaceful sleep.

You have been falling in and out of sleep few more times, and Jisung had always kept his promise. Sometimes he would be awake, sometimes asleep, but as soon as you woke up, he would be the first thing you would see.

Something brushed against your shoulder, and you woke up to find Jisung laying on top of the blankets and cuddled on your side, his forehead brushing against your shoulder as he tried to occupy as little space as he could. Following your instinct, you turned on your side to face him, happily noticing that finally your side stopped hurting, and scooted closer to him, so that you would fall asleep once again with your forehead against his.

You woke up few hours later due to the feeling of Jisung’s fingers delicately brushing few strand of your hair away from your face, his eyes burning into yours from up close. During sleep, you managed to intertwine your hands, and neither of you tried to move from the contact now that you were both fully awake.

«Jisung?» you mumbled, and he hummed in response. «Why did you say we were lucky to be alive?» you saw his eyes soften, and his hand reached out to gently caress your cheek.

«You and I are mates,» he explained, «if one of us dies, so does the other.» Jisung’s voice made your heart sank in realization that you unknowingly almost killed your mate and, feeling your emotions, he re-adjusted your positions so that he could hug you close to his body.

«I’m sorry it took us a while to come and get you but, everything is going to be okay, now. We’re together.»

You quickly adjusted to your new life. First of all, you were happy you could use magic once again, and consequently, to finally have friends with the same gift you had.

The pack welcomed you, but they simply acted as you had always been there, nothing changed in their routine, neither in yours, and you felt home and safe with them accepting you so easily and making you feel one of the family. Jisung was the goofiest and most caring mate you could ever have. His loud personality always made you feel at ease, and so did his natural desire for contact and skinship. Despite the two of you acting like a lovesick couple for the whole day, you and Jisung shared your first kiss a month after your arrival.

Due to what happened, he spent the day walking you around the woods, both in his human and wolf form, showing you that there was no more reason to be afraid, since the hunter had been taken care of and from now on, he would have been there to protect you.

And so, your first kiss was shared under an old oak tree, after you’ve been playing hide and seek all afternoon, and finally, you felt one with the nature and you were no more afraid of the dangers that it could hide.

«Found you!» you excitedly jumped in Jisung’s arms, which held you up immediately, his hold unwavering.

Jisung chuckled. «You did, again.» you inched down, closing the space between you and capturing Jisung’s lips in a soft kiss. Effortlessly keeping you up with his right arm, his left hand reached up to tenderly cup your jaw, gently angling your head to have a better access to deepen the kiss. You kissed him back with equal fervour, feeling as your souls were now connected at a whole, different level.

Eventually, Jisung carefully laid you down on the soft grass, peppering your body with sweet kisses as you made love under an old oak tree, shielding you from indiscreet eyes, as you were lost in each other’s touch. Jisung’s hands and the promised of undying love he whispered against your skin made you feel like you were on fire, as you both tried to adapt to the new sensation of completeness that inevitably came as your bodies rocked and grinded together, chasing your release while tightly intertwining your hands together. Jisung’s left hand intertwined with yours and his right hand cupped your jaw once again to kiss you as you came together, absorbing each other’s moans with a tender kiss, your left hand hanging loosely around his right wrist.

«I think I really love you,» Jisung mumbled in the crook of your neck as you both shared the bliss of your post orgasm state, and you felt your heart soar. «And I’m really glad you found me.»

«I love you, too.» you mumbled back, feeling Jisung’s hammering heartbeat right against your skin, «And I’m really glad you found me right back.»

all works © lettersfromaphrodite

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

↳ BACK TO NAVIGATION 💫 ↳ BACK TO MASTERLIST 🔮

[witch-hazels-musings]

Ginseng, Lavender and wormwood! I’m just such a freaking sucker for soft as you know 🥺

ALSO I TOLD U ALREADY BUT UR EVENTS ALWAYS LOOK SO GORGEOUS AND AESTHETICALLY PLEASING?? I WANNA SEE SPOOKY MAGIC NOW HELLO!

(The only magic is how amazing ur writing is tbh)

Ginsing (communication, guidance), Lavender (comfort, calm), Wormwood (nightmares) Xiao x gn reader | Protection Ritual warning: reader nightmare (non-specific), emotional reader, soft xiao (as if there is anything else)

You awoke trembling. Your whole body on high alert transforming the normal, everyday objects in your room into monsters or otherworldly creatures out to consume you. Every breath was a struggle and though you were burning up, the thought of removing your protective blanket seemed impossible.

The benefit of living on your own was freedom. Unrestricted freedom came with making your own rules and defining your own path, but it also meant you were left alone - alone to struggle and piece yourself back together when things fell apart.

Sleep tugged at your eyes but every time you closed them nightmarish images flooded you in sharp, bright flashes until you forced them open. You turned on your side but that only made you feel exposed.

Your bedroom felt claustrophobic. The walls leaned toward you as if to cave in and crush you beneath them. Your bed shrank so you curled your body into a ball to avoid slipping off the edges. You looked to the door that led to the balcony. Moonlight peeked in through the crack below.

Your legs moved on their own, launching you from the bed and toward the door. Sweaty hands grip the nob, flung it open, and gave you the freedom you searched for. The railing felt cool on your skin, the midnight air like river water flowing around you. You gazed at the moon and whispered.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

You turned at the sound of Xiao's voice. His body materializing from infinite mist the shade of Liyue's deepest pools. Fear propelled you to him and he caught you without restraint.

His body was warm, surprisingly so. The aura around him always shifted your perspective but his essence put it right again. Spring winds off roaring rivers, morning rain on blooming flowers. You buried your face into his scent and tried to calm your shivering.

"Another nightmare?" he asked, calm and nonjudgemental. You nodded and said nothing. "There, there," he said into the top of your head, his hand sliding across your back as he held you against him.

It took some time for the fear to abate, for the scenes of your haunted imagination to drift away. Xiao never rushed you. Never pushed you away, never told you to move faster than you were ready. He simply stood there, his cheek against your head, his hand at your back.

When you moved and pulled away from him, your cheeks were wet and puffy.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, gaze soft as he looked at you. You rubbed your cheek with the back of your hand and made the redness worse. Xiao pushed your hand away and brushed your face with his cooling, tender touch.

"Better. Thank you." You closed your eyes and let him care for you. When the touch of him faded, you opened them again.

"Do you wish me to stay?" he asked, and felt bad to ruin all the work he had just finished doing.

"Yes, please," you mumbled, voice tight and worn.

"Alright," he hummed and brought your head to lean against his shoulder while his arm slid across the crook of your back to keep you close. "For as long as you need. I will stay."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and relied on his strength until your body gave to sleep or the sun rose for a new day, whichever came first.

Thaumaturgy Anthology (October 11-13, 2024)

This event is based on spells and rituals. Inspiration does not equal understanding; liberties have been taken. All content is owned by Witch Hazels Musings, theft of these images and stories will result in immediate action.

[klonnieshippersclub]

Thank you everyone for joining in KlonnieWeek(end) 2023! I hope everyone had fun sharing works together and I personally cannot wait until the next event is planned! Special thank you to @24kmagiic @melmedardasworld @mythorhuman and @cancerian-woman for being kind and helping me plan.

Here is another fanfic rec list that was requested in my anons.

No one hears you say my name by irresistible.revolution on FFN: Bonnie needs a source of magical energy to defeat Silas, and Klaus is the most powerful there is. But when nothing goes as planned, one night's ritual changes everything -and everyone- it touches. (Klonnie. Post-S3 AU) Check out their other works as well!

Hell with you by thefudge is grumpy on FFN: Takes place after 2x21. Bonnie failed to kill Klaus. Now, he is going to make her life hell for what she tried to do. But hell with him is like no other hell on earth. Check out their other works as well!

As We Were by TheDeadMasquerade on AO3: Bonnie is sent back to when the Originals were human and she finds herself being swept of her feet by a very human Niklaus. Check out their other works as well!

Adventures of a Bennett witch and the Original Hybrid by writendelete on FFN: Bonnie's new life in New Orleans as Klaus Mikaelson's partner-in-crime takes an unexpected turn when the impossible happens. Now it's up to them to figure out what comes next and how to deal with falling in love, parenthood and enemies bent on destroying them. [KLONNIE]. Check out their other works as well!

Behind These Hazel Eyes by dinky on FFN: On her 18th birthday Bonnie Bennett comes into her full power & becomes an immortal witch, with the task uniting the supernatural world as prophesied. What happens when one hybrid, and two brothers come into her world, changing everything she ever believed. Check out their other works as well!

Please let me know if there’s any other fics you think should be included!

[alanaartdream]

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A post shared by Alana Felicity Bochmann (@alanaartdream)

I’m loving @cubbihue and @jessadamsdraws fairly odd parents AUs Itty Bitties and top Deal au

So for one was trying to figure out how to draw lawyer Timmy Turner with Hazel Wanda Cosmo and Peru and the other trying to draw my Fairly odd parents fairy oc

Ok Cubbihue’s Itty Bitties au remind me of my old Fairy oc I came up with for an old fop fanfic I use to love back in the day but it never finished where Timmy becomes a fairy and gets adopted by wonda and Cosmo and joins their family along with poof (peri)

My fairy was a fairy Teenager at the time of that old story idea I had of her being as Fairies take a REAL long and slow time to age/ grow up being as they don’t die of old age thus they don’t always have the need for children to keep family lines going all that often/ much

Now my

Mum is from Germany so while I was born in Australia 🇦🇺 (and grew up in Australia and live here) she would tell me about the rather darker fairytales and stories about the fae (fairies; elves; pixies and the like) and when it came to tales about Chanlings not many ended well; only remember one book I came across where a special cat saved a child from the fae and managed to bring her back to her loving parents while helping fae & that human family to become friends everyone including the fae got a good ending in that story (it’s been so long from reading that story forgotten it’s name but I remember it was names after that cat) otherwise most times when changling children are involved the parents never get their own child back and after changling has grown a bit in place of the original child they would then run away to the forest or just disappear one night never to be seen again and on top of that the original child never comes back at all (( heck in some cultures if they believe the child had been changed with a changling they’d just dump that child out into the woods to die for fear of raising some unknown creature))

So I believe my fairy oc was created century before Timmy was last human child to be taken to become a fairy from time when England was sending convicts to Australia and my character Felicity was a child who lost her parents and had grabbed a (kinda stale) bread in act of hunger and was sent as a convict to work as helper on farm out in Australia to repent for grabbing that bread witch is when she’d gotten Jorgen’s Nana Boom boom as her fairy godmother who had treated her with far better kindness than the human adults in her life so wished to become a fairy and Nana Boom boom took her in as her last child to raise (she had raised Jorgen before her) and her help her deal with the painful changes of changing into a permanent fairy and then dealing with powers she was getting she’s made these pies for her to explode and practice her magic on before enrolling her into magic school

Her anti fairy didn’t start to show up until her changling replacement had done it’s job and her anti fairy was born out of a dark thorny flower in front of Nana boom boom’s anti fairy screaming

Now if she’s in itty bitties au my fairy oc she’s older than Timmy fairy and she’s got a lot of slivers white hair to match with nana boom boom’s white hair (even her tail has a few white hairs) if she’s in the Fop deal Au she’ll have her brown hair and brown eyes) most of the other fairies 🧚 in fairy-world know she’s the fairy for arts and fairy who helps with the cat service of helping cats find their forever homes/ humans who will forever care for them kinda deal (she wasn’t allowed to go to earth until her changling had done it’s job (witch it did)

But many didn’t know until Timmy (with help from Hazel) discovers that she’s also the record keeping fairy and sometimes helps Father Time witch is how she helps keep records of what really happens (she keeps nots and does drawings of a lot different events for safe keeping for fairy world )

She will not stop other human children from

Becoming a true fairy but doe advice against saying it’s most painful experience of changing into a permanent fairy and how she almost went mad from going through that change but remembering how caring mama Boom boom (Jorgen calls her nana Felicity calls her mama boom boom; Jorgen’s cousin Jorgie being as he’s older than her (Wanda and Cosmo are older than her too only Timmy and Peri (poof) are younger than her; she sometimes says peri (fairy Timmy if in au where Timmy becomes a fairy) came into the world because before they came people always were treating her as a kid until they came about

But if it’s in itty bitties au Fairy Felicity would agree with Timmy that it shouldn’t be so easy to change human children into fairies because thanks to Father Time she’s seen when things didn’t go right with changlings

Now Fairy Felicity helps inspire artists and Writers with their stories if they’re hitting a roadblock or need some inspiration for their artwork/ writing while her Anti Fairy loves to make writers And Artist suffer Artist blocks/ writers block or burn out; her anti fairy hates curly hair and will try to straighten it out while fairy Felicity loves them and art so her curly hair goes a little wild and always has a pencil/ paintbrush in it with a cat hair clip next to it (she also has a cat pin on her top and bits of paint or ink on her clothes)

Fairy felicity has a more old times Australian accent while her anti fairy has a British accent like anti cosmo has; now being as it was Foop ( Irep) started the anti fairy having backwards version name to their fairy counterpart

… sorry had to type all that out for you all before I post the drawings out because the videos where I talk about her are on instagram and TikTok and I wanted tumblr to know her lore as well

Fairy Felicity didn’t meet Timmy before but has a lot of records about all the times he’s saved fairy world and some from when he’s save the universe thanks to working part time with Father Time

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #15

Work Her Magic

There is some seriously cruel irony in posting the episode where Hazel's mom clearly wants to engage with her, but can't right now because she's busy (and thus Hazel's upset about how her mom is always working) IMMEDIATELY after the double-length episode where Dev was unable to get his dad's attention whatsoever. What the heck, Hazel? Did you learn nothing?

I love Hazel's parents so much. They're adorable. Marcus being a little jealous about how his wife's always talking to her publisher / coordinator when he wants to plan a date night is fantastic.

-> Assistant, that's her role.

omfg, the title card was grown-up Hazel?? I was multi-tasking on these notes and thought that was her mom. She's ADORABLE.

What the fliiiip? I'm not sure I've ever loved a design more... This is so good. Her color scheme is the same. She's still predominantly blue and those pink bits resemble her shirt stripes, and she's still got green shoes. That's impeccable. A+ thoughtful design.

I love her... I have no 'fic ideas for her at this exact moment, but I like her a lot.

Is the silverware at this school made of wood? Wanda has a funny texture on her disguise.

Hazel is gossiping about herself with her mom at lunch. I'm bracing for Hazel to find out info she'd rather not hear, but so far everything is just Angela gushing over her. I love that.

-> She didn't have a bad word to say, only how much she loves her daughter. Pure...

Antony!! And it was indeed a hand-me-down shirt!

I have some questions about these posters.

Terrible brand name.

I enjoy how Wanda has consistently put on shades this season. I was going to make a joke back in the dinosaur episode about how she did that in the OG series too. I think it was only twice, but those scenes are some of my signature memories of her (The Musical & trying to get her son out of Crocker's house during "Fairly Old Parent").

This was Cosmo as Rice President of Pixies Inc. (to me).

omg, ceiling sprinklers. The detail! Very curious to learn more about how these environments were rendered.

Return of the Meerkat-adjacent voice! Daran Norris!

???

Date night is back on!!

"So, you're probably wondering how I got here..."

Crock to the Future

Crocker?? Huh. Can't say I'm surprised.

-> I've always headcanoned Crocker with witch genes due to the Alden Bitterroot connection. I wonder if he's aged or looks the same (In "Secret Wish," he looked the same after aging 50 years and claimed it's because he was altered to look like that even when he was 10, so it prevented further signs of aging).

-> My theory is that he'll resemble Jorgen and have a patch around his mouth. No justification for this beyond "That seems to be the style to symbolize an older character from the OG series." I still want to know if Doug Dimmadome is dead.

-> If this Crocker turns out to be Kevin, I'm gonna lose my very last marble. Doesn't look likely though due to the freckle placement in that title card. But can you IMAGINE...

Marcus only has 9 toes... Wh- Why does he have more than 8? I thought everyone had 8. Did he cut it one in half with the weedwhacker and count it separately?

The Galax Institute is celebrating its 96th annual event. If that's an in-city location, Dimmadelphia is at minimum 96 years old.

-> He's 100% meeting Crocker at this parascience convention. If he meets the Fentons with that ghost machine, that'd be great.

A.J. NAME CONFIRMATION!! ... I don't love it because I headcanoned him as Archimedes Junior and I think that's cooler than Anthony James Jr., but I'll accept it! Curse my slowness in getting my A.J.-centric multi-chapter out.

-> A.J. founded the Galax Institution at age 10 and is Marcus's hero. First of all, I love that, and second of all... good to know. I was pretty sure Dimmadelphia was still close to Dimmsdale, but it's always nice to have confirmation.

Also, I am once again asking people who have strong feelings that Chloe is a Mary Sue to give me their opinions on A.J., who ends world hunger in Season 2, works with the government at age 10, can build a time machine in 10 seconds with paperclips and string, and who apparently founded the Galax Institute as a child. They would be friends, I think.

Don't actually give me your opinions, but I do think about them a lot.

-> I'm sad my Happy Peppy Betty plotline has her moving to Brightburg instead of Dimmadelphia. It's not like I knew this was coming, but... SHE.

Angela (to me): This is my super hot husband. I love him very much and anyone who calls his interest in parascience dumb will get a high heel to the eye.

I can't believe Mark is banned from the institute. A.J., I have some questions.

Oh, there he is! Baby face...

Huh. I don't have anything to say.

I'm unclear as to why Cosmo and Wanda aren't trying to avoid the magical detectors? Why can't they just leave? I feel like this plot would work better if they'd been sleeping inside Hazel's bag.

I like how Mark, his ship, and Dark Laser's ship are in the mural.

Oh, he has aged:

I'd LOVE to see Crocker interact with A.J. I don't think we'll get that lucky, but it would be fun.

-> I've been thinking this since Episode 1, but I'm starting to seriously debate changing all the times I had Crocker say "cryptozoology" in 'fic to "parascience" instead.

I am super puzzled that A.J. went into parascience after all the time he spent with Crocker. He certainly seems to believe it (unless there's a plot twist that he just wants to give people the opportunity to discover things but he doesn't personally believe in it), but like... that's a STORY. Are we gonna talk about that?

-> This dovetails so nicely into my "Norm & A.J." AU and my head is in my hands but there is nothing I can do about it right now. help.

Oh, I didn't clock that he was a janitor here. Either I was typing and missed that or it was said off-screen. Also I enjoy him crawling without using his hands.

/blinks. Wadjet dying in Age of Mythology sound effect, is that you? Usually in shows, I just hear the donkey sound (I think it's the same one Minecraft uses). This is a surprise.

It is the same sound; I looked it up. I don't know what to do with this information.

Is Crocker going to take Hazel's bag, but open it and ignore Cosmo and Wanda on the outside?

-> Wanda, why don't you just leave? I don't understand.

Wanda: Crocker used to terrorize our last godkid. Cosmo: And before that, he WAS our godkid Roy, Viv, and Chloe awkward monkey puppeting somewhere:

I mean, Chloe was also terrorized a little, but...

Okay, so... Cosmo and Wanda have clearly explained the godparenting basics to Hazel. She's aware she'll lose her memories. But... why didn't we get to see that?

The miserable godkids plot and the memory loss haven't been explained well in this series and I'm a little surprised, seeing as that's one of the biggest pieces of worldbuilding in the OG show. Since Hazel seems to have a loving home life, I wasn't sure if either rule was still canon until Poof-Peri showed up.

Wanda: Crocker would have to cover the entire building in a butterfly net to catch us. Which is impossible! Me: /"Viral Videots" flashbacks

Oh, please give me a sequel to one of my favorite jokes in the entire series...

Eh, I'll take it. I'm disappointed Cosmo and Wanda can still float, though. Hey, you guys aren't supposed to do that!

Hazel: I wish Crocker stopped trying to reveal fairies! Wanda: Oh, we can't do that, squirt. As long as the building's covered by a butterfly net, we're powerless!

W... Wanda? What exactly are you saying? You wanna run that by me again?

I like how A.J. came prepared for Crocker to interfere so he brought a back-up award to give to Marcus, haha.

... Hm. I feel slightly unsatisfied, but I'm not sure I could put into words why. I didn't really have expectations and yet I feel confused.

[chronic-escapixt]

His Rose ~ Details

(Kai Parker x Bennett OC fanfiction)

content warnings/tags ~ Dark fiction, dom/sub dynamics, abuse, murder, childhood trauma (mentioned). Minors DNI

I don't claim ownership of The Vampire Diaries or its characters. All credits go to the rightful owner(s). I only own my original character(s).

K.P. Masterlist

This fanfiction is born from my dissatisfaction with the way Kai was criminally underutilized in the TVDU. Honestly, I found him annoying at first, but he grew on me as season 6 went on. Thru Chris Wood's charming performance, Kai stole the show for me. I'll never forgive the showrunners for a lot of things, including underutilizing Chris Wood in this role & not allowing this broken king to have a real redemption arc.

On the topic of the showrunners, I'll never forgive them for how they did Bonnie Bennett or the Bennetts in general with how they were limited to magical plot devices for everyone else's use without any appreciative focus on their power & how it could really benefit them. Even though I love Bonnie & Kai, my otp endgame for her has always been Bonenzo, but I also adore Klonnie ❤️.

My AU changed and added plenty of lore around his coven & certain events. The plot follows the life of Bonnie's younger sister, Rosalina "Rose" Bennett-Ruiz. I go on to describe her below, but I'd like to state that she acts as Kai's antithesis as an innocent, fledgling witch. She's also Bonnie's support system. I always hated how the show often ignored that Bonnie lacked family around her that were unconditionally there for her. Bonnie's mom left when she was small, she lost her grams in season 1, and her father was a non-factor in her life until he returned... just to get killed off in front of her.

I wrote Rose & Bonnie's dynamic keeping in mind everything I hate about older sibling/younger sibling dynamics, like the one between Buffy and Dawn in BTVS. Bonnie deserves family that consistently supports her, encourages her to prioritize her well-being, and actually tries to lessen the existing load on her shoulders.

Another thing I kept in mind when adding Rose to my TVD AU is not to have her replace or take away Bonnie’s space in the plot. Now, I do give her Bonnie's plotline of being sent to the prison world in season 6, but this is essential to the story, and the way Bonnie was treated that season made me so sad that I have no problem taking traumatic experiences from her (of which she has more than enough) and giving them to Rose.

Okay... if you made it through my rant, congrats. I also want to offer my inbox as a place where anyone can offer up requests, scenarios, ask questions, even if you want to roast my cruddy writing... my inbox is open.

🌹Rosalina "Rose" Bennett-Ruiz:🌹

Born: March 18th, 1994 (18yrs)

Gender: Female | Height: 5’1” | Hair color: Brown | Eye color: Hazel

Race/ethnicity: Black and Latino/Hispanic

Species: witch (Bennett)

Titles: Rosy (Kai), littlest witch (by Kol), kid (by Damon)

Characteristics:

Rose is a gentle and kind-hearted person, always looking for the good in people and situations. She can be a people pleaser and overall naive when dealing with people, often seeing the best in everyone and believing in second chances

Family is important to her, so bonding with Bonnie means a lot. Due to her naivety and weakness, she can be easily manipulated and taken advantage of. Like Bonnie she’s compassionate and tends to selflessly help others. But still with spells due to her insecurity & inexperience with magic

She enjoys singing, gardening (honing her nature-based magic, making potions & studying herbology), fashion (sewing & thifting) and cooking (food is her love language)

She has a strong aversion to blood & violence so spending time with vampires took a lot of getting used to

Trilingual: fluent in Spanish & Portuguese

Despite her demure demeanor and virginal innocence, with her stuffed animal collection, enduring love of cartoons and a lack of dating, she’s a hopeless romantic that harbors the hidden desire to submit herself to a powerful dominant

Background:

Family: Bonnie Bennett (half-sister), Jamie Ruiz (half-brother), Abby Bennett-Ruiz (mother), Matteo Ruiz (father 🕊️), Sheila Bennett (maternal gm🕊️)

Rose was raised in Summersville, North Carolina. She was a child model until 13 when her father tragically died. She was the captain of her high school majorette dance team. Her life drastically changed when Bonnie arrived on her doorstep.

Rose was 16 when she & Bonnie would finally meet. Bonnie and Elena came to Abby for help with a spell. Rose was shocked to find that she had an older sister as Abby never mentioned Bonnie or the life she left behind in Mystic Falls. She was even more surprised upon finding out about her magical bloodline and that supernatural creatures walked the earth. Unlike Grams, Abby never mentioned magic throughout Rose’s life and even went as far to suppress her magic with by binding it.

After Abby is turned by Damon, she decides to leave her family to gain control as a fledgling vampire. Rose moves to Mystic Falls with Bonnie where she learns magic from her.

Magic doesn’t come naturally to Rose. But she often helps Bonnie with powerful spells, offering herself as a conduit for channeling together.

Admittedly having a 50% accuracy rate with her own spells. Rose’s confidence & focus are hindered when chanting and spells drain her much quicker even when she tries channeling the energy around her. Despite this, Rose is determined to improve, valuing her one-on-one time with Bonnie and spending late nights on her own practicing & memorizing spells. She uses her magic for good and wants to prove herself as a capable witch.

She excels at herb studies. Often experiments with potions and creates charms using the herbs they grow in their garden.

Her role in the Mystic Falls gang is the “Bennett witch in training” or “the bringer of baked goods” (according to Damon), since she often supplies their gatherings with fresh pastries. Everyone underestimates her power, even Bonnie. She tries to keep Rose out of danger unless she can’t help it.

🔪Malachai "Kai" Parker:🔪

Born: May 9, 1972 (22yrs)

Gender: Male | Height: 6'0" | Hair color: Dark Brown | Eye color: Blue-gray

Race/ethnicity: white/non-Hispanic

Species: siphoner (Gemini Witch coven)

Titles: abomination, black sheep, the defective twin (his coven)

Characteristics:

Charismatic with a charming smile. Upon meeting him, his charisma operates as a façade to hide his lack of empathy and his sadistic tendencies

Can be hard to read but that’s because he struggles with expressing his emotions which stems from his abusive childhood. He’s cold and relatively unfeeling with people, but once he lets someone in, he’s fiercely loyal and protective.

He can be observant, calculating and manipulative to taking advantage of someone and get what he wants

He’s a sassy man, often comes back with quick quips and has a natural sense of humor (typically dark humor)

When he’s comfortable, he never shuts up, has no filter and sucks with certain social cues. After being alone for nearly his whole life, will talk anyone's ear off without realizing they are not willing to listen

Kai can siphon all of a witch’s magic without killing them. He controls how the process feels - at its worst, a fast searing burn to a slight tingle. Overtime, a witch will regenerate their magic

High libido!!- He’s starved for touch and affection (though he would never admit that he needs anyone). Sexual desires reflect his sadistic personality as he enjoys dominating another person through absolute control and pain infliction

He likes raunchy comedies and media with half-naked women such as Bay Watch and MTV videos. A major foodie with constant cravings for sweet and salty snacks. He prefers snacking throughout the day but when he does bother to cook, it’s really good

He is fluent in old Latin, often found in grimoires and other ancient texts. When he was young he’d get his hands on old grimoires and study them, all the time to himself allowing him to hone his knowledge of witchcraft and technique

Background:

The Parker family is the head of the Gemini coven. Its patriarch, Joshua Parker is the coven leader. Kai is the eldest child, being half an hour older than his fraternal twin, Josette. Unlike Jo, Kai was born without the ability to generate his own magic, instead siphoning magic from lingering spells, objects, or other witches. When he was young, he would naturally gravitate toward the magic of his sister, so Joshua quickly decided to physically isolate Kai from everyone for fear of his son's "defect" hurting others.

As fraternal twins born of the coven leader, Jo and Kai would be set to merge on their 22nd birthday, where the winner takes the other's magic and coven leadership and the loser dies and is absorbed into the other but with the risk of Kai's siphoning ability giving him an edge in the merge, Joshua and Viviane continued having kids until she birthed another set of twins that would merge instead.

Kai's upbringing was lonely, spending most of his time locked in his bedroom up in the attic. Following his father's lead, most of his family excluded and demonized him. As he grew, Kai learned to internalize the cruel labels they gave him. If they wanted a monster, they would get a monster and on his 22nd birthday, May 9th, 1994, he would finally act on his boiling rage and resentment toward his family, unleashing the hatred he accumulated through a lifetime of torment onto his siblings when Jo refused the merge. To protect the twins, she would relent to merge with him but the coven was waiting and with the help of Sheila Bennett they banished him to a prison world of complete isolation.

Each year that passed only added to his hunger for revenge, left with nothing to do but plan his escape and seizer of coven leadership. He grew to take pride in what he had done to his siblings and his status as a sociopath capable of killing anyone who gets in his way without remorse.

AU-Specific Lore:

Prison world Lore:

Prison worlds are created by Bennett blood sacrifice, meaning a Bennett must be bled to death so the gemini coven can channel her blood magic.

A prison world resets with the eclipse every 3 months.

Time works differently, so no one ages throughout their time there.

A prison world cannot create life so the only living inhabitants are those sent there or arrive via ascendant.

Kai is linked to his prison world so he can’t die. If something kills him, he’ll be out for a while depending on the damage but the magic will heal him back to life. Without Kai, the prison world falls apart so while he’s there, it sustains his life to sustain itself. Once he leaves, it ceases to exist.

The Ascendant - an ancient device created by the Gemini coven and a Bennett ancestor that only responds to a living Bennett’s blood magic. The ascendant is sensitive to magic in general, so even when the spell is done right, it will activate then fall apart. You only have one chance at the time of the eclipse to correctly do the spell, which Kai knows from experience because early on he tried collecting a vial of Bennett blood that he hunted down in a hospital and using Josette's magic he siphoned from a hidden dagger. Disappointment boiled over into rage when he did the spell beneath the eclipse, the ascendant disassembled, but he was not transported out.

The Gemini Coven Lair:

Exists as a interdimensional where the coven keeps ancient texts, grimoires, enchanted items (talismans, gems, ascendants, etc.), and materials for spells & potions

Infinite space that can be utilized by the coven leader: often includes a space for magic instruction, a library, spell casting, a gathering area for the coven, etc.

Accessed only by portal, which is summoned by a spell entrusted to high-ranking Gemini members

[greenwitchcrafts]

January 2024 Witch guide

Full Moon: January 25th

New moon: January 11th

Sabbats: None

January Wolf Moon

Known as: Bear Moon, Chaste Moon, Cold Moon, Disting Moon, Goose Moon, Moon of Little Winter,  Moon of Strong Cold, Quiet Moon, Snow Moon, Stay at Home Moon, Sun Has Not Strength to Thaw Moon & When Snow Blows Like Spirits In The Wind Moon

Element: Air

Zodiac: Capricorn & Aquarius

Nature spirits: Brownies & Gnomes

Deities: Freya, Hera, Innana & Saraswati

Animals: Coyote & fox

Birds: Blue Jay & pheasant

Trees: Birch & Hazel

Herbs: Cones, holy thistle &marjoram

Flowers: Crocus & Snowdrop

Scents: Mimosa & musk

Stones: Chrysoprase, garnet, hematite, moonstone, onyx & jet

Colors: Black, blue-violet, grey, silver & white

Energy: Adventurous, ambitious, awareness, beauty, beginning & conceiving; business, career, conserving energy, energy below the surface, organization, political matters, potential, protection, recognition, reputation, reversing spells & spirituality

The name for the January full Moon is believed to have originated from Celtic and Old English roots, which European settlers then brought to the New World.

At one point, gray wolves were among the most widespread land mammals on our planet. According to the Wolf Conversation Center, gray wolves “inhabited most of the available land in the Northern Hemisphere.” Habitat destruction and persecution by humans have reduced their range by about a third worldwide and 90 percent in the lower 48 states.

The wolf’s adaptable nature to survive in a wide range of habitats and ability to prey on the largest mammals living in those regions made it widespread. Basically, if there are enough deer, moose, elk, caribou, bison, and musk ox, wolves can survive. Predation of domestic animals caused friction with European settlers and early Americans who aggressively hunted the wolves.

Werewolf myths can be found in ancient Greek and Roman societies, throughout European history and among some Native American tribes. In modern storytelling the transformation from man to wolf has been closely tied to the full Moon in films like “The Wolf Man” and “American Werewolf In London.”

Howl at the Moon means to waste energy pursuing something unattainable. It’s shorthand for doing something crazy. However, howling is hardly a waste of energy among wolf packs. And they aren’t howling at the Moon. The Moon just happens to be shining during times when wolves most often howl.

A wolf’s howl can be heard miles away. The vocalization helps wolves locate separated members and even communicate between packs marking their territories. One study recorded spontaneous howls and responses happen most often between 11 p.m. and 6 a.m.

The cry of wolves doesn’t play into the Sioux name for the January full Moon, which is known as “The Time When Wolves Run Together.” Wolves do plenty of running to defend territory that can stretch hundreds of square miles to find enough prey to support the pack.

Other Celebrations

• Hogmanay | January 1st: is the Scots word for the last day of the old year and is synonymous with the celebration of the New Year in the Scottish manner. It is normally followed by further celebration on the morning of New Year's Day (1 January) and, in some cases, 2 January—a Scottish bank holiday. In a few contexts, the word Hogmanay is used more loosely to describe the entire period consisting of the last few days of the old year and the first few days of the new year. For instance, not all events held under the banner of Edinburgh's Hogmanay take place on 31 December.

The origins of Hogmanay are unclear, but it may be derived from Norse and Gaelic observances of the winter solstice. Customs vary throughout Scotland and usually include gift-giving and visiting the homes of friends and neighbours, with particular attention given to the first-foot, the first guest of the new year.

• Compitalia/ Feast of Lades | January 3-5: was an annual festival in honor of the Lares Compitales, household deities of the crossroads, to whom sacrifices were offered at the places where two or more ways met.

Dionysius said that Servius Tullius founded the festival, which he describes as it was celebrated in his time. Dionysius relates that the sacrifices consisted of honey-cakes (Ancient Greek: πέλανοι) presented by the inhabitants of each house; and that the people who assisted as ministering servants at the festival were not free men, but slaves, because the Lares took pleasure in the service of slaves. He further adds that the Compitalia were celebrated a few days after the Saturnalia with great splendor, and that the slaves on this occasion had full liberty to do as they pleased.

During the celebration of the festival, each family placed the statue of the underworld goddess Mania at the door of their house. They also hung up at their doors figures of wool representing men and women, accompanying them with humble requests that the Lares and Mania would be contented with those figures, and spare the people of the house

Sources:

Farmersalmanac.com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Llewellyn's 2023 magical almanac: practical magic for everyday living

Wikipedia

Encyclopedia Britannica