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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 5 days ago

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Mutual Jealousy | Sebastian Sallow x OC #6

he's so unimpressed with evie in this one... but then again she's not so happy with seb either

Summary: Evangeline and Sebastian navigate growing attention from others, their unspoken feelings simmer dangerously beneath the surface. Evangeline accepts a date with Lysander Clearwater while Sebastian gets busy in a broom closet.

Words: 7,582

Tags: Unspoken Feelings, Post-Canon, Friends to Lovers (Implied), Friendship, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Angst, Hogwarts, Implied Smut

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The early autumn chill settled over Hogwarts like a thin veil, leaving the Quidditch pitch shrouded in mist. Evangeline adjusted her gloves, tightening her grip on her bat as she surveyed the field. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had been assigned the pitch for joint practice today, the field split between the two teams, with each side running their drills in tandem. The atmosphere was charged, competitive energy buzzing in the air as the two teams zoomed through plays and formations, occasionally crossing into each other’s side of the pitch.

Evangeline’s gaze swept across the field, past where Gryffindor’s Chasers were practicing a new maneuver. In her peripheral vision, she noticed a Ravenclaw player—Lysander Clearwater—flying a bit closer than usual, his attention focused on intercepting a Quaffle. She barely had a second to react when she saw the glint of an incoming Bludger streaking directly toward him, seemingly unnoticed as he focused on his target.

Without hesitation, she shot forward, swinging her bat in a wide arc and meeting the Bludger mid-flight. The impact reverberated through her arms as she sent the ball flying off in a new direction, safely away from Lysander. He glanced up, startled, his gaze meeting hers across the field, and a smile broke across his face as he registered what had happened.

“Thanks!” he called, lifting a hand in a grateful wave before returning his focus to his drill. Evangeline smirked, nodding in acknowledgment before turning her attention back to her own teammates. The exchange left her with a small thrill of satisfaction as she continued through practice, her movements sharper and more focused.

When practice finally wound down, players from both teams began to land on the pitch, dismounting from their brooms and chatting as they headed toward the changing rooms. Evangeline had just landed, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, when she heard footsteps approaching from behind.

Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Lysander. His face was flushed from the cold air, his blond hair wind-tousled and falling over his forehead in a way that highlighted his striking blue eyes. He wore an easygoing smile, the kind that seemed to draw people in without effort.

“Evangeline, right?” he asked, though his tone was warm with familiarity. “That was quite a save back there. I’d probably be seeing stars right now if you hadn’t intercepted that Bludger.”

She grinned, shrugging off the compliment. “It’s all part of the job. Can’t have our star players getting injured before the season even starts, can we?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I appreciate it all the same. You’re a solid Beater—I could probably use a few pointers for defense myself.”

"Is that so? No comments about me being too small or looking out of place as a Beater?" she replied, a hint of challenge in her tone.

Lysander’s eyes widened, and he shook his head with an earnest smile. "Not at all! If anything, you’re proof that size doesn’t mean a thing when it comes to skill. You’ve got serious power behind those swings.”

Evangeline felt a rush of warmth at his words. She’d grown used to hearing all the comments—usually well-meaning, but often dismissive—about her stature. But Lysander seemed to see her as she was, not just as someone defying expectations.

“Thanks,” she said, a bit more softly. “Most people aren’t so… encouraging.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, that’s their loss, isn’t it? Anyone can see you’re as tough as they come. I’ve actually been meaning to watch more of your practices. You make it look easy out there.”

Her grin widened at the compliment, feeling a rare, unguarded confidence settle over her. “It’s not always as easy as it looks. But if you’re ever looking for a challenge, I’d be happy to show you a few defensive moves.”

“Is that an offer?” he asked, his blue eyes bright with interest.

“Only if you’re brave enough to face a Gryffindor Beater,” she teased.

“Consider me very interested,” he replied, his gaze steady and warm.

For a moment, their eyes met, and the usual chill of the evening air felt a bit warmer. Lysander’s easy demeanor and the confidence in his tone left her feeling lighter.

But before she could respond, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye—a flash of familiar dark curls and a piercing gaze that could only belong to one person.

Sebastian was watching them from across the field, his face unreadable but his stance tense, as if every muscle in his body was wound tight. His gaze flicked from her to Lysander, a shadow of something she couldn’t quite place lingering in his eyes.

She turned back to Lysander, offering him a smile in spite of the strange tension coiling in her stomach. "Well, then. Let me know when you’re ready for that challenge."

“Will do, Evangeline.” He shot her one last, lingering look before heading back to join the rest of his team.

As he walked off, she stole another glance at Sebastian. She wasn’t sure why, but something about his expression left her feeling unsettled.

"Sallow," she greeted him, folding her arms with a playful smirk. "Spying on the competition, are we?"

Sebastian didn’t smile. Instead, he held her gaze, his eyes dark and intense in a way that sent an odd shiver down her spine. "Just watching out for Gryffindor’s star Beater," he replied, his tone light but edged with something she couldn’t quite place.

"I think I can take care of myself," Evangeline chuckled, "Were you here when I intercepted that bludger?"

“Yeah, I saw,” he replied, his voice tight. His gaze shifted in the direction Lysander had gone, a flicker of something like irritation crossing his face. "Didn’t think you’d be sharing Beater tips with the competition, though.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “He was just thanking me for stopping him from getting hit. I’d say that’s just basic Quidditch etiquette, wouldn’t you?”

Sebastian shrugged, crossing his arms. "Sure."

Evangeline raised an eyebrow at Sebastian’s short reply, feeling an odd mixture of curiosity and amusement at his strange behavior. He was usually the first to jump in with teasing or witty remarks, but today there was something off, a hint of something guarded in his tone. She shook it off, figuring he was just having an off day, and instead gave him a small nudge.

“Anyway, enough about me playing nice with the Ravenclaws,” she said with a grin. “Are you ready to grab something to eat? I’m absolutely starving.”

That did the trick—his expression softened immediately, and the hint of tension in his stance melted as a mischievous glint returned to his eyes. “Always ready to eat,” he replied, offering her a lopsided smile. “Besides, I think you owe me for keeping me waiting out here in the cold.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes, playfully nudging him again as they turned and began walking back toward the castle. The chill in the air had settled deep into her muscles, and she relished the thought of the warm Great Hall and the promise of a hearty meal.

As they made their through the castle, the chatter of students filled the corridors, and they fell into an easy rhythm, trading jabs and comments about practice, the lingering shadows of Sebastian's odd behaviour seemingly forgotten—at least for the moment.

But as they took their seats in the bustling Great Hall, Sebastian’s gaze drifted across the room, and she noticed his eyes linger on a group of Hufflepuff girls who seemed to have been watching him since they walked in. One of them smiled and whispered to her friend, who laughed as they both looked in Sebastian’s direction.

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, feeling a strange twist in her chest. She forced herself to focus on her plate, telling herself it didn’t matter. Sebastian was just a friend, and he was free to entertain any attention he wanted.

At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

But no matter how many times she told herself that, the twist in her chest didn’t ease, so she distracted herself by spooning mashed potatoes onto her plate with more force than necessary. Next to her, Sebastian raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering across his face as he noticed her rather aggressive serving.

“Blimey, Evie,” he teased, nudging her. “Those potatoes have done nothing to deserve your wrath.”

She forced a laugh, shrugging. “Just building up my strength for Gryffindor’s next match. You wouldn’t understand, Slytherin.”

He laughed, though he seemed only half-invested, his gaze flicking back to the other table. She gritted her teeth, unable to keep the bite of irritation from her tone.

“See something interesting over there?” she asked, feigning nonchalance as she took a sip of pumpkin juice.

Sebastian gave her an innocent look, though his eyes held a glimmer of mischief. “Just… observing. You know, studying the social dynamics of our dear classmates.”

Evangeline tried to brush off his nonchalant answer, but the glint of mischief in his eyes was unmistakable. Since the start of term, it seemed like Sebastian had become something of a sensation among the female students. Sure, he’d always been popular—Sebastian was the type of person who could charm his way out of nearly any situation, his effortless confidence and easy smile making him the center of attention wherever he went. But this year, it had escalated. It was as if half the girls at Hogwarts had woken up and suddenly realized just how… intriguing Sebastian Sallow really was.

She’d had more than a few girls approach her in recent weeks, questions tinged with curiosity and, sometimes, just a hint of jealousy. They’d ask her about him, insisting that, as his best friend, she surely knew him better than anyone. And she supposed they were right. But every time a girl approached her with a subtle—or, more often, blatant—query about his “type” or his “favourite place to go in Hogsmeade,” Evangeline had to fight back the urge to roll her eyes. She couldn’t really blame them, though. Sebastian was… well, undeniably attractive.

There was something in the way he carried himself, that unshakeable confidence tempered with a mischievous glint that made him seem like he was always two steps ahead of everyone else. His dark curls had grown slightly longer, often tousled in that way that made him look like he’d just stepped off his broom. His warm brown eyes had a way of lighting up whenever he was scheming or teasing someone, and that boyish grin of his—crooked and a little too smug—seemed to captivate anyone who dared to meet it.

But it wasn’t just his looks. Sebastian had a magnetic energy that made people feel drawn to him, like they were in on some secret joke when they were with him. He was sharp-witted, quick with a comeback, and fiercely loyal to the people he cared about. And if his growing collection of admirers had any clue just how protective and caring he could be, Evangeline figured the line of hopefuls would double in length.

"Evangeline?"

“Evangeline?”

She stiffened, her fork pausing mid-air as his voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She met his deep brown gaze, momentarily caught off guard by the intensity of it. She’d seen his face a thousand times, knew the lines and angles of it like the back of her hand. But somehow, he always seemed to catch her by surprise. His skin was permanently tanned from long hours in the sun, with a natural flush that highlighted his cheekbones, and faint freckles dusted across his nose that made him look just a bit softer. But his eyes, deep and unwavering, held a warmth that seemed to pierce through her.

Her heart did a small, traitorous skip, and she quickly looked down, clearing her throat as she tried to steady herself. “Sorry—what did you say?”

Sebastian’s brows lifted, his lips curving into that familiar, crooked smile. “Lost in thought, were we?” he teased, leaning forward with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Just thinking about our next match,” she said, keeping her tone light as she pushed her peas around. “Gryffindor’s got to stay sharp if we’re going to crush Slytherin.”

He chuckled, his gaze still fixed on her in that slightly unsettling, knowing way. “Right. Definitely looked like some intense Quidditch strategizing going on there.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the way her heart raced under his scrutiny. “Well, someone’s got to keep focused around here. Meanwhile, you’re too busy being the Great Hall’s new celebrity.”

He leaned back, raising an eyebrow as if amused by the accusation. “Can I help it if people finally appreciate my charm and wit?”

Evangeline snorted, unable to resist the smirk that crept onto her face. “Appreciate it? You’re practically fending off fans with a broomstick these days. You could probably sell autographs.”

Sebastian laughed, shrugging, though a flicker of something crossed his expression—just a hint of discomfort, quickly replaced with his usual confidence. “Maybe I should. Could make a few galleons on the side. But,” he leaned in closer, his voice dropping a little, “I’d never charge you, Evie.”

She waved him off with a scoff, he voice flat. “Lucky me. I’ll treasure it.”

But even as they continued their playful banter, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in her chest, nor could she ignore the way her thoughts kept circling back to the attention he was getting, the attention that had become more noticeable with every passing week. And the worst part was, she couldn't even be upset about it, because she had no right to be. After all, Sebastian was just her friend—her best friend, at that—and he was free to flirt, charm, and bask in attention however he wanted. She should be happy for him, really. He’d always enjoyed a bit of spotlight, and if the girls at Hogwarts had finally realized what she’d known all along—that he was clever and magnetic and far too charming for his own good—then that was fine.

Or at least, it should’ve been.

"...are you going to actually eat anything?" Sebastian's voice was softer now, his gaze fixed on her with a mix of concern and curiosity.

Evangeline blinked, realizing she’d been absentmindedly pushing her food around her plate, barely touching it.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied, forcing a quick smile as she speared a potato and took a hasty bite, hoping it would mask the unease brewing beneath the surface. But his gaze didn’t waver; he was watching her closely, like he could see right through the flimsy shield of her smile.

“Evie…” He leaned in, lowering his voice, a flicker of worry in his brown eyes. "You have been eating, haven't you? You know, since we... talked about..."

Evangeline felt her stomach twist, caught off guard by the concern in his eyes. The reminder of their conversation a couple months ago—the one where he'd confronted her about that damned muffin she picked to pieces instead of eating—felt like a weight pressing down on her chest. She looked away, busying herself with cutting a piece of roast, though her appetite had vanished entirely.

“Yeah, I’ve been eating,” she said lightly, trying to keep her tone dismissive. “Just... maybe not as much as you.”

He let out a small huff of laughter, though it sounded forced, his eyes never leaving her. “Alright. But if something's going on, you can talk to me, you know.”

She met his gaze again, feeling a pang of guilt at the worry etched in his face. Part of her wanted to brush it off with another joke, but the sincerity in his expression made it hard to do so. There were no teasing smirks now, no crooked grins. Just Sebastian—her Sebastian—looking at her with that unwavering loyalty, his eyes full of something that made her heart ache.

"Seriously," she assured him, giving his hand a gentle pat, her fingers lingering on the familiar warmth of his skin, roughened slightly from Quidditch practice and dueling spells.

“I’m fine, Sebastian. Promise,” she added, her voice softening as she tried to ease the worry in his eyes.

He searched her face for a moment longer, and she could see the conflict there—half of him wanting to believe her, the other half reluctant to let it go.

Finally, he nodded, though the worry didn’t fully fade from his expression. He held her gaze a beat longer before shifting his tone, an almost playful glint sneaking back into his eyes.

“So… Clearwater, then?” he asked, his voice light, though she didn’t miss the way his fingers subtly tightened around his goblet.

Evangeline rolled her eyes, but she could feel a blush creeping into her cheeks. “This again? Sebastian, he just thanked me for stopping him from being knocked out.”

“Mhm,” Sebastian hummed, his gaze narrowing slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s why he looked like he’d just won the Quidditch Cup while you were talking. And he asked you for ‘pointers,’ didn’t he?”

She felt her cheeks warm further but shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Well, maybe he’s just… appreciative of good teamwork.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Sebastian’s smirk deepened, though his eyes held a hint of something sharper, something he was trying to disguise under his usual teasing. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “You should watch yourself with Clearwater. He’s got a reputation, you know. Doesn’t exactly… stay loyal to the people he charms.”

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, amused at his sudden protectiveness. “Are you really lecturing me on loyalty, Mr. I’ve Been Flirting With Half of Hogwarts Since Term Started?”

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before chuckling softly, a hint of color rising in his cheeks. “That’s different,” he said, brushing it off. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

"What is it you two are bickering about this time?" Ominis’s dry voice interrupted, cutting through their playful back-and-forth as he slid onto the bench beside them.

Sebastian leaned back, rolling his eyes but grinning. “Just sharing some wisdom about the pitfalls of inter-house ‘friendships.’”

Evangeline scoffed, nudging Sebastian’s shoulder with her own. “Apparently, Lysander Clearwater isn’t up to Sallow standards.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow, turning his head toward Sebastian, a wry smile ghosting his lips. “And here I thought your standards had been loosened by half the female population at Hogwarts. Pot, meet kettle.”

Sebastian groaned, looking between his two friends with a playfully exasperated look. “What’s this? Ganging up on me now? You both know that’s hardly fair.”

“Hardly fair?” Evangeline smirked, her eyes twinkling. “You started it. Apparently, Lysander looking my way is cause for a full inspection.”

Ominis chuckled softly, reaching for a roll and tearing it in half. “I assume he's already attacking poor Clearwater's character."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, though there was a slight twitch in his jaw as he tried to keep his expression casual. “I’m not attacking his character,” he protested, though his tone was defensive. “Just… pointing out that he’s got a reputation, that’s all.”

“Ah, yes,” Ominis said dryly, dipping his roll into his soup. “The renowned Sebastian Sallow, Protector of Morals and Character Assessment.”

Evangeline laughed, covering her mouth as she shot Sebastian an amused look as Ominis continued, “Lysander is a perfectly respectable Ravenclaw. As respectable as they come, actually. Unlike some people,” he added, raising an eyebrow in Sebastian’s direction.

Sebastian huffed, clearly unimpressed. “Respectable? Please. The guy flirts with anything that moves.”

“Oh, so it’s fine when you do it, but not when he does?” Evangeline teased, nudging him. “Sounds a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Sebastian opened his mouth to retort but hesitated, searching for a suitable comeback. He ended up shrugging instead, though the slight flush in his cheeks betrayed him. “It’s different. I’m not trying to charm you into anything.”

The words lingered in the air, a thoughtless remark tossed out in the heat of their banter. But as they settled, Evangeline felt a prickling sting she hadn’t expected. He’d said it so casually—I’m not trying to charm you into anything—as if the idea of wanting to charm her was laughable.

Her smile faltered, the laughter between them fading like the last glow of a dying ember. She turned her face away, hiding the flicker of hurt that had crept into her eyes. For a heartbeat, she tried to push it aside, to pretend it didn’t matter, but the words stuck, a quiet ache settling in her chest.

Sebastian must have realized it too because his smirk vanished, replaced by a look of dawning regret as he watched her, but she was already looking down at her plate, jaw tight, unwilling to let him see how much his careless comment had landed. Ominis, observing the silent exchange, let out a sigh, clearly exasperated with the two of them, his fingers drumming impatiently on the table.

He was used to their back-and-forth, but lately, he’d been watching this game between them with a blend of fondness and frustration, certain they were the only two in the castle who couldn’t see what was right in front of them.

Evangeline straightened, feeling the weight of Sebastian’s gaze on her, but she didn’t dare look back. If he couldn’t see her as someone worth noticing, maybe someone else could. She pushed herself up from the table abruptly, drawing curious glances from both boys.

“Where are you going?” Sebastian asked, a hint of alarm creeping into his voice as she turned from him, refusing to meet his gaze.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she let her eyes drift across the hall, settling on the Ravenclaw table where Lysander sat among his friends, laughing over something. The sight of his easygoing smile brought a small sense of defiance blooming in her chest, and without another word, she strode over to the Ravenclaws, her chin held high.

Ominis watched her go, then turned to Sebastian, his expression flat with annoyance and pity. “Well done,” he said dryly, clearly unimpressed. “You’re truly a master of tact, Sallow.”

Sebastian barely heard him, his eyes fixed on Evangeline as she approached Lysander’s table. She was smiling now, though he could see the stiffness in her shoulders, the forced cheer in her expression as she struck up a conversation with the Ravenclaw Chaser. A knot twisted in his stomach as he watched Lysander’s face light up, his grin widening as Evangeline said something that made him laugh.

For a moment, Sebastian felt a pang of something hot and fierce that he didn’t want to name. He wanted to look away, pretend it didn’t matter, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from the scene. The way Lysander leaned in, the way Evangeline tilted her head with a smile—it stirred something raw inside him.

“Jealous?” Ominis asked, his voice cutting through Sebastian’s thoughts with maddening calmness.

Sebastian shot him a glare, bristling. “Of course not,” he muttered, but his voice sounded too tight, too strained to be convincing. He looked back toward Evangeline, who was now laughing at something Lysander had said, her head thrown back in a way that made her seem… free.

“Oh, of course,” Ominis drawled, crossing his arms. “That’s why you look ready to hex poor Clearwater where he sits.”

Sebastian clenched his jaw, his fists tightening under the table. “He’s… she doesn’t even like him,” he muttered, trying to sound unconcerned, but his eyes never left her.

"Maybe not yet," Ominis replied, his tone sharpening as he watched Sebastian’s face. "But surely you must realize that telling the woman you're in love with that you're not interested in her won’t exactly bring her closer, will it?"

Sebastian felt his stomach drop, his eyes snapping to Ominis. “I didn’t say I’m in—” he started, his voice low, but Ominis cut him off with a look, one that spoke volumes.

“Oh, spare me,” Ominis said, his exasperation clear. “Anyone with half a brain can see it, and I don’t even need my eyes.”

Sebastian’s shoulders slumped, his gaze flickering over to where Evangeline sat, laughing with Lysander as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She looked… happy. And that, somehow, made the ache in his chest even worse.

“Look, it’s not as simple as you think,” Sebastian muttered, finally tearing his eyes away. “She… she’s my best friend. If she knew… well, what if it ruins everything?”

Ominis sighed, setting down his spoon with a deliberate clink. "If she knew, she might understand why you’re behaving like a jealous idiot.”

Sebastian clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of Ominis’s words settling over him, heavy and irrefutable. Deep down, he knew his friend was right. He knew that this quiet jealousy simmering beneath his skin would only push her further away, that he was risking something valuable, something he hadn’t even admitted to himself in full.

But Sebastian Sallow had never been particularly known for his rational decisions, especially when emotions came into play. His impulse to act, to throw himself into a moment without worrying about the consequences, was hard-wired. And right now, he felt that impulsive urge flaring, pushing against his better judgment.

"Sebastian," Ominis warned, sensing the shift in his posture, the way his jaw set with stubborn resolve. “Don’t be foolish.

Sebastian forced a grin, though it felt hollow. “Relax, Ominis."

Ominis’s hand shot out, grabbing Sebastian’s arm with surprising strength. “Sebastian,” he said quietly, his tone a rare mixture of urgency and exasperation. “You’re going to make things worse. For both of you.”

Sebastian hesitated, just for a moment, feeling the weight of Ominis’s words and the weight of his grip. But then he shrugged him off, giving him a look that was equal parts defiance and frustration. “I appreciate your concern, Ominis. Really. But I know what I’m doing.”

Without another word, he turned and made his way across the Great Hall, ignoring Ominis’s quiet sigh and the slight shake of his head. He could feel the eyes of a few students on him as he crossed the room, the usual curious glances that followed him since term started. And he didn’t miss the way the group of Hufflepuff girls he’d noticed earlier sat up a little straighter as he approached, their whispers stopping as they exchanged excited looks.

He slid into an empty seat next to the nearest girl, offering her an easy smile that he’d perfected over years of half-hearted flirting. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

The girl—he thought her name was Lily—looked momentarily stunned, her cheeks flushing pink as she stammered a quick, “Not at all!” Her friends exchanged glances, their excitement barely contained, and Sebastian felt a fleeting surge of satisfaction. If Evangeline wanted to act like Lysander was the most charming bloke at Hogwarts, then he’d give her something to notice, too.

From across the hall, Evangeline felt her jaw clench as she watched Sebastian settle in among the Hufflepuff girls, his easy smile and charm on full display.

Fine, she thought, glancing away with forced indifference. If Sebastian wanted to throw himself at every girl who batted an eyelash his way, that was his choice. She certainly wasn’t going to sit around worrying over it. Instead, she turned her attention to Lysander, who was midway through a story about a misadventure in Ravenclaw Tower involving an escaped Fwooper.

She laughed, genuinely this time, as Lysander animatedly described the scene, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. The Ravenclaw’s charm was undeniable, his easygoing smile and gentle confidence putting her at ease. As she listened, she found herself relaxing, letting her focus shift from the sting of Sebastian’s behavior to the warmth of the conversation in front of her.

“So,” Lysander said, leaning slightly closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Is it true Gryffindor Beaters have secret drills for extra strength?”

Evangeline smirked, shrugging playfully. “Maybe. You’ll have to earn that kind of classified information, though.”

He grinned, lifting a brow, "Earn it, you say? And what exactly would it take for a humble Ravenclaw Chaser like me to earn such privileged information?”

Evangeline bit back a smile, trying to match his playful tone. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, tapping her chin as though she were deep in thought. Inside, her heart was racing, each word requiring more confidence than she felt.

Unlike Sebastian, who seemed to flirt effortlessly and without a second thought, Evangeline was not naturally flirtatious. She was far deeper into this than she’d planned, each exchanged look and teasing remark drawing her further in. The thrill of it—the unfamiliar territory of genuine, mutual interest—sent a rush through her, both exhilarating and terrifying.

"Perhaps, we could discuss terms over a butterbeer at the Broomsticks?"

She couldn't believe the words had left her mouth. Had she really just suggested that? A flicker of nerves swept through her, and she fought to keep her expression steady, hoping her voice hadn’t sounded as shaky as she felt.

Lysander’s face lit up, his easy smile shifting into something warmer, almost excited. “Now that,” he said, leaning in just a touch closer, “sounds like an excellent idea. Would tomorrow work for you, Evangeline?"

Her heart gave a little flip at the way he said her name, soft and sure, like it was something he’d wanted to say for a while. She held his gaze, feeling her cheeks warm under his steady look, and couldn’t help the small, genuine smile that tugged at her lips. This felt… new, like she’d opened a door to something she hadn’t realized she wanted.

“Alright,” she replied, managing to keep her tone light, “but fair warning: Gryffindor terms are notoriously steep. I hope you’re prepared.”

Lysander chuckled, unfazed. “I’d expect nothing less."

Evangeline lingered with Lysander for another few minutes, their conversation light and easy, a comfortable warmth settling between them as they continued to exchange smiles and laughs.

Eventually, she glanced over her shoulder and noticed Ominis waiting patiently, his gaze turned politely toward the far end of the hall. She realized with a start that she’d been chatting with Lysander much longer than she’d meant to.

“Well,” she said, returning her gaze to Lysander, her lips curling into a soft smile. “Thanks for the company. And, um… I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Lysander’s smile widened, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. “Tomorrow it is. I’ll look forward to it, Evangeline.”

Her cheeks warmed as he said her name, and she gave him a small nod before finally breaking away. She turned and made her way back to Ominis, her heart still racing slightly from the thrill of agreeing to meet Lysander.

When she reached Ominis, he turned toward her with a bemused expression, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “You were over there for a while,” he commented, his voice laced with amusement. “I’d nearly forgotten we were here to eat.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “I was just being friendly.”

“Friendly, hm?” Ominis arched an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “It looked a bit more than ‘friendly’ from where I was sitting. I’d go so far as to call it ‘charmed.’”

She tried to shrug off his comment, but the hint of color on her cheeks betrayed her. “Well… maybe there was a little charm involved.”

Ominis chuckled, his smirk widening. “It seems I’ll have to get used to you being the center of attention for once, though I think there’s one person here who won’t be quite as pleased about it.”

Evangeline’s smile faltered as she followed Ominis’s gaze back to where Sebastian sat with the Hufflepuff girls, his easy laugh and confident posture unmistakable. Even from a distance, she could tell he was laying on his charm. The familiar pang of irritation crept back into her chest as she watched him, feeling that strange, unsettling twist that she still didn’t want to name.

“It's not like I care what he thinks,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

Ominis gave her a long, skeptical look, one that made her cheeks burn. She shot him a warning glance, daring him to say anything more.

“Alright," He acquiesced, "So what did you and Clearwater talk about? Or should I be asking what you two agreed on, based on that smile?”

Evangeline hesitated, feeling her cheeks warm again under his knowing gaze. “He… may have agreed meet up for a butterbeer tomorrow. Just to, you know, chat about Quidditch and such.”

“Of course,” Ominis replied, his voice dripping with amused disbelief. “Just casual Quidditch talk, is it?”

She huffed, nudging him with her elbow. “Honestly, Ominis, it’s nothing serious. Just… something new. I thought it’d be fun.”

“Good,” Ominis said, his expression softening. “You deserve some fun, Evangeline.”

As they finished up lunch, they chatted about classes, gossip around the school, and their upcoming assignments, Ominis filling the time with his usual dry wit and grounded observations. The comfort of his friendship helped chase away the lingering thoughts of Sebastian and Lysander, allowing her to settle into a sense of ease once again.

Later that evening, Evangeline and Ominis tucked themselves into a quiet corner of the library to study. Stacks of parchment, a handful of old textbooks, and an assortment of quills were spread out between them, illuminated by the flickering glow of a nearby lantern. The library was mostly empty, the muffled silence only broken by the occasional soft footsteps of Scribner as she prowled the aisles, keeping an eagle eye on the few students who lingered.

Evangeline was absorbed in her notes when she sensed movement out of the corner of her eye. Glancing up, she nearly dropped her quill. Sebastian was weaving his way through the shelves, and he looked… well, thoroughly disheveled.

His shirt was partially untucked, his tie hanging loosely and crooked, and his dark curls were charmingly mussed, as though he’d either been in a hurry—or had been busy with something else entirely. His gaze darted around the library as if searching for someone, and when his eyes landed on her, he froze.

Ominis noticed her sudden silence and looked up. “Is something wrong?” he asked, but then he followed her gaze and gave an exasperated sigh. “Ah. I see someone’s had an eventful evening.”

Sebastian made his way over to them, sliding into the seat across from her with a lazy grin, entirely unbothered by his disheveled state. “Evening,” he said, stretching out and folding his hands behind his head, giving off an air of smug satisfaction.

“Had a good night, did we?” Ominis asked, not bothering to mask the sarcasm.

Sebastian shrugged, looking at them with a glint in his eye. “Not bad,” he replied. “I may have run into a few people who needed entertaining.”

Evangeline kept her face carefully blank, refusing to give Sebastian the satisfaction of a reaction, but beneath the surface, she felt like the air had been pulled from her lungs.

Her chest tightened painfully as she imagined what he'd been up to, and with whom. A vague, irrational jealousy flared, stinging her with an intensity she hadn’t expected.

It wasn’t fair, she told herself. She had no right to feel this way, no right to feel possessive over him, but that didn’t stop her mind from replaying the image of him hidden away with some Hufflepuff girl in a broom closet, his face inches from hers, that same lazy grin he now wore aimed at someone else. The idea left a bitter taste in her mouth.

After a tense silence, she managed to last another five minutes, pretending to be engrossed in her studies, but each second felt like a fresh test of her endurance. Finally, unable to stand the smug look on Sebastian’s face or the suffocating jealousy tightening in her chest, she snapped her book shut.

“I think that’s all for me tonight,” she announced, shoving her notes and quill into her bag with hurried movements. “I’ve got an early morning.”

Ominis, perceptive as ever, raised an eyebrow but kept a knowing smile to himself. “Goodnight, Evie,” he replied, and then, as though he’d read her thoughts, added with perfectly timed mischief, “And enjoy your butterbeer with Lysander tomorrow.”

The effect on Sebastian was immediate. His relaxed posture tensed, and his lazy grin faded, his brows drawing together in confusion and irritation. He opened his mouth to say something, but Evangeline was already getting to her feet, determined to escape before he could ask any questions.

“Thanks, Ominis,” she said, shooting him a small, grateful smile, as if he’d somehow offered her a lifeline. “Goodnight, Sebastian,” she added with forced nonchalance, barely looking at him.

“Night, Evie,” he replied, but his voice lacked its usual warmth, and she could feel his eyes boring into her as she made her way toward the library exit.

As Evangeline disappeared around the corner, Sebastian watched the spot where she’d just been, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He seemed to be struggling to process what Ominis had just casually dropped into the conversation. A date with Lysander Clearwater? Since when did she—

“What was that all about?” Sebastian finally asked, his voice tight as he turned to Ominis. His eyes held a mix of frustration and something that bordered on betrayal.

Ominis leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself. “What?" he replied, feigning innocence as he flipped open his book again, though he wasn’t even glancing at the page.

Sebastian huffed, crossing his arms and sinking back in his chair. “Since when is she… going on dates."

“Oh, since today,” Ominis replied, his tone smooth and maddeningly calm. “She asked him out. They’re meeting at the Three Broomsticks.”

She asked him?! The confirmation made something twist uncomfortably in Sebastian’s chest. He remembered Evie talking to Clearwater earlier, her bright smile and relaxed demeanour, the way she’d laughed with him in a way that looked so… easy. And now, that same ease would be shared over butterbeer, while he’d be left to watch from the sidelines, unwanted and out of place.

“What’s so great about him, anyway?” Sebastian muttered, glaring at a distant spot on the library wall. “He’s… boring. Probably reads strategy books for fun.”

Ominis chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Don’t be so dramatic, Sebastian. Lysander’s a perfectly decent person. He’s polite, intelligent, kind—qualities Evangeline seems to appreciate.” He shot Sebastian a sidelong glance, his gaze softening. “It’s not exactly a mystery why she might enjoy his company.”

Sebastian scoffed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “He’s just not… right for her. They’ve barely spoken before this term.”

“And you’d rather have her stay by your side, trailing after you while you flirt with every girl who looks your way?” Ominis raised an eyebrow, his tone cool. “You can’t have it both ways, Sebastian.”

“I’m not—” Sebastian started, his frustration growing as Ominis’s words dug under his skin. “It’s not like that. I just don’t see why she has to be with someone like him.”

Ominis closed his book with a soft thud, fixing Sebastian with a patient yet exasperated look. “Listen, Sebastian. You’re my best friend, but you’re also insufferably thick sometimes. If you're not going to admit how you feel, then you should at least be happy for her.”

Sebastian’s fists clenched at his sides, unwilling to admit that Ominis was right, that this wasn’t just a matter of Clearwater’s supposed faults. No, it was the gnawing feeling in his chest, the realization that he’d taken her presence for granted—believing, foolishly, that she’d always be there, waiting in the background, just for him.

“Do you really think she’s… interested in him?” he asked quietly, almost hoping Ominis would tell him otherwise.

Ominis sighed, softening. “I think she’s looking for someone who appreciates her, and Lysander’s offered her that. And frankly, she deserves it.” Then, after a beat, he added pointedly, “But it doesn’t have to be him, Sebastian. You could stop pretending you’re not interested.”

Sebastian didn’t respond immediately, staring at the table as if it held answers he couldn’t grasp. Obviously, he wasn’t about to admit to Evangeline that he was undeniably, completely, and utterly in love with her—and had been for over a year now. There was a terrifying vulnerability in even considering it, in risking the one constant he’d always counted on.

But the image of her laughing with Lysander, of her being charmed by him and agreeing to meet him tomorrow, tugged at something deep and raw within him. The thought of her choosing someone else, someone who didn’t know her half as well as he did... he couldn't take it.

Without another word to Ominis, Sebastian pushed back his chair and stood, his resolve hardening with each step he took toward the library exit. Behind him, he heard Ominis sigh, but he didn’t have time to worry about what Ominis thought. Right now, he only knew one thing—he couldn’t just sit there while she walked out of his reach.

The corridors were dim and quiet as he hurried after her, his footsteps echoing as he scanned each hallway, hoping he hadn’t lost her. His heart thudded with a mixture of nerves and frustration as he rounded a corner and finally spotted her, her dark hair falling over her shoulders as she made her way toward the staircase.

“Evie!” he called, his voice louder than he’d intended in the quiet of the castle.

She stopped, turning to see him striding toward her, and her eyes widened slightly, her expression shifting between surprise and something he couldn’t quite place. “Sebastian?” she said, folding her arms defensively as he closed the distance between them.

He hadn’t thought this far ahead. Standing in front of her now, the words he’d wanted to say evaporated, replaced by the realization that he had no plan, only a jumble of emotions he hadn’t sorted out. But he couldn’t turn back now, not with her looking at him like that, as if she could see right through his bravado.

“I, um…” He ran a hand through his hair, stalling for a moment. “I just—didn’t get a chance to say goodnight properly.”

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Goodnight properly?” She huffed, clearly unconvinced.

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, feeling the weight of her skepticism. “Yeah, you know… just thought I should… say it,” he stumbled, his usual easy confidence faltering. “I mean, you left pretty quickly.”

Evangeline’s brow arched higher, her arms still crossed as she gave him a level look. “I'm tired,” she replied, her voice calm, but there was a flicker of irritation in her eyes. “Long day. And I need to be up early tomorrow."

Sebastian’s jaw tightened, and he tried to brush it off, but the words stung, his stomach twisting at the reminder. “Right, for Clearwater,” he said, his tone sharper than he’d intended.

She narrowed her eyes, her irritation flaring. “And?"

Sebastian took a steadying breath, fighting to keep his composure, but his frustration slipped into his tone. “And I just don’t see why you’d waste your time with him, that’s all.”

Evangeline’s eyes flashed, and she uncrossed her arms, taking a step forward. “Waste my time? Since when is having a simple butterbeer wasting my time?”

He clenched his fists, struggling to find the right words. “It’s not that, it’s just… I don’t think he’ll appreciate you. Not really.”

She let out a breath, exasperated. “And you know that how? Did Clearwater suddenly become some kind of villain while I wasn’t looking?”

“No, but—”

“But nothing, Sebastian.” Her voice softened, but there was a sadness there, a deep disappointment that cut through him. “If you can’t be happy for me, then at least don’t make me feel bad for wanting… something new.

Sebastian felt his chest tighten, a desperate urge clawing at him to stop her, to make her see how he felt. But he was paralyzed, the words stuck in his throat. All he could do was watch as she shook her head slightly, her face a mixture of frustration and resignation.

“Goodnight, Sebastian,” she said, her voice laced with a forced calm that did little to hide the sting behind her words. “Have fun snogging your flavor of the week in whatever broom closet you end up in.”

The jab landed harder than he expected, and he flinched, momentarily caught off guard by the bitterness in her tone. She didn’t wait for a response, though. Before he could say anything, she’d already turned, her footsteps brisk and purposeful as she disappeared down the hall.

Sebastian stood there, rooted to the spot, a mixture of guilt and frustration twisting in his chest. The hollow emptiness that followed her departure settled into something heavier, something that gnawed at him with each step she took further out of reach.

A part of him wanted to run after her, to catch her arm and tell her that none of it mattered, that the flirting, the charm he used so carelessly—it was all meaningless. He wanted to tell her that it was only her smile, her laugh, her presence that he craved, that his foolish pride had kept him from admitting what he knew deep down: he didn’t want anyone else.

But he’d let her walk away, and it was too late to take that back now.

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

#ao3 author #fanfic #archive of our own #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #hogwarts legacy fandom #sebastian sallow #not actually unrequited love #fluff and angst #angst #mutual pining #friends to lovers #jealousy #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow x oc #sebastian sallow x mc

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buggywiththefolkmagic · 2 years ago

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Personal Do Not Read Witchy Author List

There will be a google doc with updates as I find more authors to avoid. These are all my own personal opinion and I do take the author's actions into account when judging their ability to write legitimate information.

TW: Slavery, serial killers, racism, TERFs, creeps, neonazis, asylums, and a slew of other super unsavory things. I tried to make this list as PG as possible while highlighting the issues with these individual people.

*Alestier Crowley. *

He's a literal piece of garbage. Misogynistic, thief of a toooon of closed practices, has entire cults still dedicated to him, called himself a voice of God (both Abrahamic and apparently like 5 Egyptian deities??? I mean excuse me sir how about no??) He also declared himself ‘above’ Gods back in 1922 calling himself Ipssissimus. I hate Crowley so much I have literally stuck a picture of him to a dartboard before. He can suck an egg in the afterlife. He also put his own wife in an asylum for 'alcoholism’ because she wanted a divorce. The only thing he ever did right was get kicked down a flight of stairs at a temple once by a poet.

*Anastasia Greywolf*

Appropriates at least Jewish practices if not every Indigenous practice there is. Wholeheartedly encourages people to use magic instead of going to a doctor for things like oh I dunno EPILEPSY And claims she has spells for like Marvel-level super powers which uh no Ana. You don't. Lots of Christianity for a supposedly FULL pagan and wiccan author. Her spells are all controlled like...so wrong. So, so wrong. Don't ask please. I can't begin to describe it. Advocates for smudging and uses phrases like "Cherokee Rituals", and the Romani G-slur.

*Gerald Gardner*

Made his own branch of wicca, the first technically, and his own coven had to make rules just so he wouldn't spill everything to any reporter that asked. Used Crowley as a main resource.

*Jason Miller*

Claims to do Hoodoo. A horrible formatter, and generally super dismissive of being a rootworker and other potentially closed practices, has not been initiated. Has claimed that anyone can petition/pray to Papa Legba without initiation because "Vodou is a congregational religion/practice". From the Vodou and Haitian Vodou practitioners I have talked to that is VERY incorrect, it may be congregational but you still have to be involved in the community to be trusted with those practices because so much of it has been bastardized for media and racism purposes. He is also a student of Catherine Yronwode, who is another SUPER problematic figure in the Hoodoo/Rootwork community.

A link of his own words on culture appropriation which includes mild inaccuracy towards Indiginous Peoples and that they don’t ‘own’ certain practices when it’s very clear the wording of those practices DOES in fact come from those peoples. He’s fine with people being Yogis, or Shamans, or calling satchel spells mojo bags, and other such phrases and won’t correct people if they use such words out of context because “language changes”. Also says if someone within a practice says it’s closed to go to ANOTHER AND ANOTHER until you find someone willing to teach you??? That’s not how it works sir.

Source: https://www.strategicsorcery.net/on-cultural-misappropriation/

*Lisa Chamberlain*

Not an actual person. This is a ghost writer name for a bunch of garbage literally copy and pasted from wikipedia into books. I wish I was kidding.

*Lisa Leister/Lester/whatever other spelling she's used.*

Such a major TERF. Like JK Rowling level TERF. Claims magic comes from a womb so anybody that doesn't have one isn't a real witch. Like WTF lady.

*Raymond Buckland*

Where to start...uses the G-slur often. (His grandfather was romani so it blurs the line of blood quantum.) Very sexist and obsessed with the idea of a woman getting uh...undressed for rituals while men stay dressed and more things I cannot say ina PG space??? As magic?? VERY anti-minor and LGBTQA+. Toxic, just plain toxic. Can't do it. I have read his Blue Book and it's the least problematic thing he wrote. I'm alright with it.

*Silver Ravenwolf* WhOOO boy. So super anti-christian, which is fine and dandy...if you didn't claim to be in a lineage of braucherei/hexerei. Wiccan, like the type of wiccan that says no other witchcraft exists and yet has written folk magic books??? She really needs to make up her mind. Claims Satanists don't actually exist. Claims most Jewish powers worshiped "the Goddess" (whoever that is)??? Very cult-like language about "not telling friends and family about your new life/reality/experience/whatever". Also SO MUCH APPROPRIATION. SO SO MUCH. She also gets her history wrong, on a lot of basic information that most non-witches know about like say the Salem Witch Trials.

*Catherine Yronwode* Ooh man. So Catherine Yronwode’s career started as a comic book artist. She’s worked on such things like the Elvira comic, DNAgents, and a gaggle of super controversial trading cards which included the Kennedy Assasination, a serial killer collection, and the AIDS epidemic. Of which she was sued for using one half of the Hillside Stranglers duo in said killer trading cards without his permission, the judge sadly threw the case out because and this is a quote, “ If Bianchi had been using his face as a trademark when he was killing women, he would not have tried to hide it from the police.” There were two more from her comic days, but those aren’t super relevant besides the one that pushed the envelope of what sort of trading cards should be sold to children. On the magical side of things, I will be blunt here: As one of the ‘big bads’ of the Rootwork/Folk/Hoodoo community? I really REALLY dislike her. She has made numerous false claims about New Orleans/Haitian Vodou and that it’s only a very recent practice, non-religious, and slaves never used it because it didn’t exist yet??? History books and entire generations will disagree. An example would be this link of an open letter to her written by a New Orleans Voodoo practitioner and someone she wrote a whole article about: https://conjureart.blogspot.com/2013/10/open-letter-to-cat-yronwode-and-lucky.html

She owns a few different websites namely https://www.luckymojo.com/, has written numerous Hoodoo based books, and actively has accused numerous people who have asked her for sources and or disagreed with her of plagiarism and has slung more mud that you can shake a stick at.

She also praises a book on Marie Laveau and yet discredits herself by calling New Orleans Voodoo a new religion/neopractice??? She’s just confusing as all heck to me.

*Christian Day* This guy’s just a creep. One stuck in the early 2000s mall goth phase even though he’s over 50. He also appropriates Hoodoo and owns two Hoodoo shops as well as multiple other witch shops in Salem and recently New Orleans on the French Quarter (Which is pure tourist fodder and not a reflection of true New Orleans Voodoo/Vodun/Rootwork). He has also harassed ex-employees so badly it’s landed him in court. His book The Witch’s Book of the Dead also reads very much like a list of accomplishments rather than anything useful. All about his television spots and experiences doing that. (Did I mention he was in an episode of Ghost Adventures? Yes, that one with Zac Bagans??? And it did not make us witches look too great, honestly speaking.)

Sources for Harassment Claims: https://www.cbsnews.com/news/salem-witch-gets-protective-order-against-warlock/

https://www.wcvb.com/article/warlock-christian-day-ordered-to-stay-away-from-salem-witch/8228072

*Yvonne and Gavin Frost* I dunno how else to say this, I really don’t. These two? Pedophiles. Multiple writings of theirs included not-safe-for-work-or-children rituals that must include minors. Avoid. AVOID AVOID. AVOID ANYONE WHO USES THEM AS A RESOURCE! This should NOT be okay in any circle. They are VERY used within the Wicca religion so please be careful!!

*Orion Foxwood* Some of his information is very sound! I can’t fault him there. He does have a tendency to blend different traditions without actively TELLING you he’s blending them though. He’s and this is a direct quote, “He is a witch and Elder in Romano Celtic-Traditional Craft, High Priest in Alexandrian Wicca and teacher of the Faery Seership tradition. He is also the founding Elder of Foxwood Temple and a primary founder of the Alliance of the Old Religion, a national network of covens in his line that have united to preserve the ways of his Elders. He was the co-director of Moonridge, a center for metaphysical, Craft and Faery studies in Maryland” That’s an awful lot of traditions to juggle and not only write on but actively teach. He also performs conjure, which in of itself might not be an issue but Conjure usually blends into Hoodoo really quickly if one isn’t careful! A lot of the traditions he talks about from his family sound quite familiar, he’s clearly from Appalachia but his books on the subject blend in his other practices instead of keeping them separate.

*Starr Casas* She’s in the same category as Orion, only she doesn’t necessarily give her credentials to be teaching Hoodoo, and even wrote a whole book filled with Hoodoo love spells. She also co-owns a French Quarter Conjure Shop, which if you ask any practitioners from New Orleans...is catered to pure tourists and not a true example of the crafts from the area.

*Shawn Engel* I’m gonna be blunt here. More appropriation of the Jewish practices, Hoodoo, and other information that is just plain UPG without saying it’s UPG and encourages throwing hexes at political party members solo. I read The Power of Hex and had to put it down numerous times just to gather myself and not throw it away, I don’t know if it was tone or sheer level of appropriation...likely both.

*Kate Freuler* Of Blood and Bones is chock full of Hoodoo, full stop. Only acknowledges that something comes from Hoodoo once and also gets basic mythology information on the Deities she mentions wrong in some cases. Also a lot of the book seems to be UPG because the bibliography is super small for a 300 page book.

*Dorothy Morrison* I picked up Utterly Wicked once. A very odd book full of Hoodoo and Vodun spellwork and misinformation, the author is also Garderian Wiccan so even the writing of a book full of hexes is slightly...concerning compared to the Wiccan traditions and redes. Odd is the best I have to describe how I personally feel. I will say this again: Voodoo Dolls are not used to cause pain, stop bastardizing that single aspect of the practice. Thank you.

*Helena Blavatsky*

I dunno how else to say this either, her philosophy and occult knowledge, called Theosophy is a portion of what inspired Hitler. Pure unadulterated racism veiled in a ‘Atlantian Race Theory”. Horrible stuff, read for a class project once and felt disgusting.

*Christopher Penczak*Whoo boy. On the surface he seems alright, one of the first ‘male’ witches I had ever heard of except for Scott Cunningham. But the more you dig into his work the more inaccuracies and Christian bashing you see. For example: Christianty was the first patriarchal society. Uhm...I believe you’re kinda forgetting the men who ran Rome and Greece there sir. He also fully proposes the ‘burning times’ were like a ‘witch holocaust’. NO! NO IT WAS NOT. You can’t compare the hundreds of years and MAYBE a thousand-ish people dying to the millions that died in the short timespan the Holocaust was a thing. Fuck Christopher for that comparison and also for claiming it was a ‘burning time’ to begin with. (History says that most were hung...or tortured. Burning is a very small number of that list in general.

He makes a lot of sweeping statements and sees witchcraft as a religion and NOT a practice. He whitewashes, fully harps on the Wicca = witchcraft = religion thing and THEN hones in on the difference between “white and black” magic and how cursing is evil and yet highlights certain practices that actively practice...cursing...as they have for generations??? He (atleast) doesn’t demonize Satanism but does still backhand the idea anyway, that they CAN’T be witches because witches only ‘heal’. Cultural appropriation and fetishization of ‘Native’ practices while calling them primitive all in the same breath, I just can’t with this guy. I really can’t.

*Amy Blackthorn*

Owns a tea brand called ‘Blackthorn Hoodoo Blends’ she is white. When questioned by BIPOC individuals she complains and blocks them instead of explaining why she chose the name Hoodoo for just teas. TEA. She is also the author of Blackthorn’s Botanical Magic, Sacred Smoke (A book on smudging yikes on trikes), and Blackthorn’s Protection Magic.

Proof of blocking: https://thisblackwitch.com/2016/04/01/blackthorn-teas-whose-culture-is-it-anyways/

*Tarl Warwick *

Is more commonly known as Styxhexenhammer666 on youtube and other social media sites. Has written a pile and I mean a PILE of occult based books including ones on Hermetic magic, ritualistic magic, demons, solomon, folk plants and healing, Kabbalah, and many MANY more.

He makes no claim to being Jewish, and given his political wishy washiness, and multitude of controversies which includes claiming the Holocaust wasn’t ‘that many dead’, Charles Manson deserved release because he was ‘extremely innocent and didn’t kill anyone’, and fairly recently also wrote and published a book on Critical Race Theory and why it’s ‘garbage’. I can’t support him no matter how accurate some of his information may be (if any at all).

*Temperance Alden* This really pains me to say, Temperance in her Wheel of the Year book made a claim that birth control “stunted her magical abilities” because it affected her hormones…in OTHER words unless you are a perfectly hormone producing WOMAN you don’t have great magical power. AVOID. AVOID. AVOID. That is a slippery slope to claiming medication will harm you, not to mention how TERF-y it is AND completely disregards that magic is for well…everyone. Such a stupid gatekeep-y concept.

*Sarah Kate Istra/Dver*

Advocates for using ‘spirit animals’ regardless of Indigenous beliefs and concerns. Is also a known ally with the Piety Posse, a neo-nazi group of pagans who claim the term polytheist can only apply to them and if you aren’t a Hellenistic pagan…you aren’t pagan at all. They also advocate for animal sacrifices, blood tests to prove purity, and other horrible HORRIBLE stuff.

*Sannion/H. Jeremiah Lewis*

Obvious Neo-nazi, keeps images of swastikas on his personal blog, and not the ones that the nazis stole from, the nazi one. And super SUPER transphobic.

*Edward P. Butler*

Major persecution complex, spends half his twitter complaining about how monotheists are destroying…I dunno…everything? Also defends Krasskova quite heavily. Antisemetic as well.

*Galina Krasskova*

Hellenic pagans watch out. Defends the AFA. A ringleader of the Piety Posse. There’s a lot more horrific stuff about her and I won’t go into extreme details. But TW: Romanticizes SA with deities, human sacrifice, animal sacrifice. Compares debating to the holocaust, lots of victim blaming, gatekeeping, and screams folkish.

*Diana Cooper*

Racist. Hard stop. Also appropriates chakras. Has a weird belief that food controls skin color and that Africa will never be a good country because it’s the solar plexus of the universe…or something like that. I got 20 pages into the book and literally couldn’t go any farther. Did I mention this book was supposedly on dragons???

*Judika Iiles* So much appropriation, advocates for making altars and working with closed deities. Lots of incorrect information including dangerous spellwork like obsession spells. And one in particular that has roots in a racist stereotypes. Avoid please!

#witchblr #witchcraft #Authors to avoid #Will update in the future #If anyone has any questions about any of these please feel free to ask

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