#witchfic

[nocturnus33]

La Société des Femmes Dangereuses [ Witchfics]. Guess my age!

I am a bored and curious human being who wants to know what the majority grew up with for their pleasure reading time.

[justalarryblog]

🧿 wash him deep where the tides are turning by @mediawhorefics (3k) | Explicit

"When Harry finally tells Louis about his family’s curse and the true love spell that broke it, they’ve been dating for seven months, nineteen days and about twelve hours and Louis’ cock is buried deep inside his arse."

Part 2 of parsley, sage, rosemary & thyme

🧿 The kaleidoscope of your eyes by @greenblueish / bluegreenish (4k) | Teen And Up Audiences

They are greeted by a young, handsome man in his late twenties, dressed in wide black trousers and a purple silky dress shirt. Usually Louis is quick to judge such daring pieces of clothing, as this colour in particular can easily look like a cheap Halloween costume imitation of a computer game character, but at this sight, he can think of no criticism. Except that there’s no way in hell that this man has the medical knowledge to cure his neighbour’s tumour.

or, the one where Harry, disguised as an alternative practitioner, uses his magic to cure people’s health issues and Louis doesn’t believe in the faith healer until he meets him himself.

🧿 This Could Be Something by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers (6k) | General Audiences

After a hookup gone wrong, Harry keeps getting sick at random times without reason. That is, until Louis shows up at his door with a wild explanation.

Sometimes, “happily ever after"s come in the strangest forms.

🧿 Far Afield by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird (11k) | Teen And Up Audiences

Harry Styles is a witch who owns the best flower shop in Manchester. Lottie Tomlinson is planning her wedding, and brings her brother along to her first appointment. Both men have been having a bad day and sparks fly.

Part 1 of Witch Harry

🧿 Spellbound by @chloehl10 / lovelarry10 (22k) | Teen And Up Audiences

Louis’ a shifter. Harry’s a witch. The only problem is, they’re hiding those things from each other.

Will they be able to keep their secrets hidden at the most spooky time of year?

🧿 a long way down (to the bottom of the river) by @mediawhorefics (24k) | Mature

“ Most people would call Harry silly for believing in curses. Childish would also be a probable insult thrown his way. In their little town full of little people, Harry’s whimsical nature and beliefs mean that he’s subjected to frequent judgemental looks and whispers. It doesn’t usually bother him. Most people don’t know about the magic thrumming through his veins or about how powerful words can truly be. Most people don’t carry around their ancestors grief like a burden. They don’t have to pay for deeds hundreds of years old like Harry and his family have. They get to love freely without fear.

Harry and his kin aren’t so lucky.”

a practical magic au in which Harry and his sister accidentally kill her abusive boyfriend with magic and Louis is the D.I working the case.

Part 1 of parsley, sage, rosemary & thyme

🧿 If You Ever Did Believe by @patdkitten (25k) | Explicit

Harry Styles runs a moderately successful travel blog where he writes about ghosts and has published a few books on the subject while he travels the country in his RV. While doing research for his newest book, he winds up in a quiet little village with a whole lot of ghost stories and rumours waiting to be discovered and a single man who happens to have just as many stories and rumours that follow him as well.

🧿 love is divine by @stylinsoncity (25k) | Mature

Being a witch doesn't help when it comes to unrequited love.

🧿 like the stars above by @princelouisau (33k) | Explicit

Louis has a witchy little secret that is slowly ruining his relationship. When that secret comes out, it turns out that he has a lot more to worry about than just losing the love of his life. He might lose everything.

🧿 Work of Magic by @justalarryblog​ / Bekita (34k) | Not Rated

"C’mon Liam, are you really going to use this against me now? You know the kind of humans his kind is! You know very well why we hunt them!" Louis said, done with the conversation and walking down the hall.

"No! We hunt people who don’t care about others, and neither Harry nor anyone in his family is like that!” Liam exasperated, following behind. “Louis, it's been two weeks, don’t you wanna know how Harry is? Has this hatred taken over so fast?" Liam inquired, knowing the hit a nerve.

"You know what, Liam? I'm not going to have this conversation with you." Louis said decisively, turning his back to his friend ready to go to his class.

But life is never fair, is it? When he turned around he was face to face with Harry in the middle of the hallway. The two stared at each other. Do I hate him? Louis wondered as he watched Harry's eyes fill with tears and seem to be begging for something. He preferred to ignore the pang in his chest and the urge to comfort the boy in front of him. He lowered his head and continued on his way.

Or the one that Louis is a WitchHunter and Harry is a Witch and they keep it as a secret, but they fall in love.

🧿 The Sweetest Incantation by @smittenwithlouis (40k) | Explicit

Harry has been alive for decades, and yet he's never been as confused and dumbfounded. He's a witch, for God's sake. Can't get much weirder than all the magical things he's experienced throughout his lifetime. Never in a million years, however, would he have expected to be mere inches away from a hybrid.

Or: Harry is a witch who's still working on developing his powers and Louis is a werecat who falls into his life and turns it upside down.

🧿 The Sweetest Incantation by @smittenwithlouis (40k) | Explicit

Harry has been alive for decades, and yet he's never been as confused and dumbfounded. He's a witch, for God's sake. Can't get much weirder than all the magical things he's experienced throughout his lifetime. Never in a million years, however, would he have expected to be mere inches away from a hybrid. Or: Harry is a witch who's still working on developing his powers and Louis is a werecat who falls into his life and turns it upside down.

🧿 a promise lives within you now by @sarcasticfluentry (45k) | Explicit

A Lord of the Rings-inspired Middle Earth AU. Louis is an Elven prince, next in line to become King of Mirkwood, and Harry is the orphaned Human boy who grows up alongside him. They fall in love, but Louis’s obligations to the throne, Harry’s mortality, and impending war threaten to tear them apart.

🧿 just a flicker in the dark by @falsegoodnight (57k) | Explicit

Harry Styles is his case partner. High and mighty, annoyingly smug Harry Styles who’s known him for years and has fucking seen him naked for fuck’s sake.

He glances at Venus who’s blinking up at him with curious eyes, no doubt sensing the agitation sparking in his magic.

“This is not happening,” Louis says loudly. “This is not fucking happening. I am going to kill Liam, oh my god.” He doesn’t even know if Liam is responsible for this but it feels like something he’d do to drive Louis absolutely insane - exes don’t just show up to your assigned haunted house out of nowhere. “Fucking fuck!”

He nearly jumps when Harry knocks again, his muffled voice carrying through the wood. “I can hear you, you know,” he drawls, sounding frustratingly amused.

Louis exhales, resisting the urge to scream.

-

Or, Louis is a struggling witch desperate to prove himself after yet another magic disaster and finds a calling in the haunted house of client Niall Horan. Things get more complicated when he’s assigned a case partner: acclaimed medium and ex-boyfriend, Harry Styles.

🧿 Everything you fear is here by @darcie (67k) | Explicit

Title: Everything You Fear is Here Pairings: Harry/Louis, Liam/Niall, Zayn/OFC Story Summary: Some things weren't supposed to happen yet, and some things weren't supposed to happen at all. But what if they did anyway? Disclaimer: The boys are not mine and I do not own them. This is fiction. Author's Note: This story takes place 4.5 years after "Closer." This was originally posted on Livejournal (darciewritestoo)

🧿 Sweetest Sin ( Book 1) by @fortheloveofsushisandboys (68k) | Mature

Book 1 of the Sweetest Sin trilogy

Louis Tomlinson knew he was somehow different from any of the other werewolves. His parents are keeping a secret that could change his life. Harry Styles was born into one of the most powerful vampire clan. he is smart, handsome and his mother has high hopes for him. childhood friends became lovers but family forced them apart. what happens when unexpected turn changes their already troubled lives?

Originally posted on my wattpad account : http://www.wattpad.com/story/3688363-sweetest-sin-book-1-of-sweetest-sin-trilogy-larry

WARNING : CONTAINS MPREG (YES. MALE PREGNANCY YOU HATE YOU LEAVE) AND IS R-RATED SINCE IM SUCHA PERVE.

Disclaimer : I do not own the boys, I just own the words and story.

All Rights Reserved. belongs to Sae aka sushisandboys aka fortheloveofsushisandboys

🧿 Closer by @darcie (119k) | Explicit

Title: Closer Pairings: Harry/Louis, Liam/Niall, Zayn/I'll think of something Story Summary: Harry has magical powers that he can't reveal to the boys. But he's not the only one with a secret. Author's Note: Originally posted on Livejournal (darciewritestoo). I decided to post this here too.

🧿 Bewitched by @photo41 (160k) | Teen And Up Audiences

“So what's your problem, mister?” “I'm married to a witch.” says Louis, disbelievingly, shaking his head slightly, swirling the ice around in his shot glass. “My spouse is a witch.” “Cheer up." says the Bartender "You should see my wife.”

Louis doubts that his wife is a real spell-casting, cloak-wearing, cauldron stirring, witch, like his new husband, Harry. But, Louis suspects that nothing could surprise him anymore. Not Harry's magical friends, not his literally disappearing sister or even the way that Harry's able to clean a kitchen in 2 seconds. Louis had always thought that Harry was charming, he just didn't know how much.

Adaption of the hysterical and wonderful 1960's tv show, starring, of course, 1D; each chapter is self contained within the universe.

✨You can also check my fic tags for more fics! ✨

[noblechaton]

promise I am trying to write for this blog again it’s just that everything happens so much

[kittenwriter]

I mean, I like Pawn to Queen, but I seem to be in a minority on that front. I came a bit late-- I found it while Witchfics still existed but after Riley had abandoned it (and was never on WIKTT although I was definitely aware it existed)-- but I read it and lamented that it was unfinished and I still pull it out now and again, much as I do "Pet Project" and SGCBearcub's "Spellcaster". (One of these three is generally held in much higher regard than the other two, I admit.) I also, in finding it so late, had no awareness of the Objectivism stuff.

I did attempt to read Cyteen because I adored Pawn to Queen and there were frequent author's notes about how wonderful Cyteen was, but I got, like a chapter into it and was just like "Nope."

(Pawn to Queen was also one of my earliest Snape/Hermione, just after I started with Loten's entire catalog, so it's possible I simply imprinted on it, but I do miss the days of yore with Aristocrat Snape. It's sort of the forerunner of a lot of the tropes attached to the Sarcasm and Slytherin/Prince of Slytherin/Ashes of Chaos/WBWL gestalt but with many fewer of the issues associated with that genre.)

The Pawn to Queen wank was well known at the time, but it seems to have mostly sunk into obscurity... or maybe I just know too many people who never read het now?

Riley was a BNF on the very large and active When I Kissed the Teacher mailing list, which was for Snape/Hermione in that era when we knew nothing about Snape and people wrote him as a mysterious aristocrat who just needed a better hair care regimen. I remember her wangsting unsubtly every time another author got praise on the list despite being one of the most popular authors at the time and getting frequent asspats from the same posters. It was incredibly tacky and obvious, but we'd all comfort her anyway because she was popular and nobody wanted her to stop writing.

At first, PtQ was your classic Bad Guys Made Them Do It sexy dubcon hurt/comfort nonsense... And then there was the snake on rollerskates, but we ate that kind of thing up back then.

As the story went on, however, her OCs (and "OCs" stolen from Cyteen) started taking over the story with endless nonsense about being ~Strega~ (never "a strega", always "I am Strega"), the witchy Übermensch. The sexy Snape/Hermione stuff went out the window to the annoyance of a lot of the audience.

This was all going on as I was getting to the end of my time in college and getting busier. I eventually left the list and thus tragically missed (most? all?) what I'm told were called the "PtQ Wars". This months-long wank was reportedly about Riley revealing that a lot of the point of PtQ was to enlighten the readers as to the amazingness of objectivism. On one side were a bunch of readers explaining that, yes, really, as people who'd at some point been in proximity to a college campus and/or insufferable twats, they were amply familiar with objectivism and didn't appreciate a bait-and-switch. On the other, Riley, insisting that people Just Didn't Get It.

All I can find now are a few references to there being a wank and to Riley loving Nietzsche, nothing about Rand, but I definitely remember people saying there was specific discussion of Rand and Riley being mortally offended that others were... not fans.

[thedeadflag]

Looking For the Magic (Pt 1)

Tentative title for Option B, the magical Witch Fic WIP one-shot I’ve been struggling to finish. I’ll be posting blocks of this  with the tags #lookingforthemagic and #witchfic, in case you don’t want a few thousand words muddying up your dash. I think mobile still doesn’t use the ‘read more’ function, so I figure this would be as good a workaround for folks.

Content Warning (for the story as a whole): transphobia, cissexism, physical assault, misogyny, sexual content

Part 1 under the cut.

Life was annoying, Anya decided.

You’d wake up, go through a bunch of tedious routines, sometimes work, find time to eat a few times a day, and then you’d sleep. Rinse and repeat. And when she was always surrounded by imbeciles, well, that didn’t make her situation any better. No, life was annoying, even if the other witches in the coven weren’t so convinced.

They’d been on some tiresome road trip up north to a place where a historical coven was founded, resting atop an intense intersect of ley lines. Anya couldn’t quite bring herself to care about history in freezing weather, especially while she crammed into a large hotel room, surrounded by a half-dozen people she didn’t really care for aside from her cousin, Lexa.

Or, well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true, as her eyes found a familiar blue-eyed blonde across the room, shivering in an empty corner and alone. Of course, she wasn’t exactly friends with Clarke Griffin, but the girl had always caught her eye, and aside from her beauty, she seemed sweet enough. Call her a sap, but Anya was a sucker for a nice girl with a pretty smile, and Clarke’s? Well...

Anyway, they’d made their pilgrimage up north, only to run into a blizzard. Not exactly a surprise given it was the dead of winter and the forecast had been calling for storms in the area for the past week. Didn’t exactly surprise them, or at least it shouldn't have.

Sure, one of the elder witches could have used her abilities to still the stormy weather outside, or simply have let Anya do the honours, but that would break 'the code' and potentially draw unwanted attention, so instead, they were holed up in hotel rooms for the night, waiting for the storm to pass.

She understood, of course. It was literally her role in the coven to uphold the code and to subdue outside threats who would try to break it for their own means. Still, she hated freezing weather.

And maybe because of her own stormy mood through the whole trip, the others had grabbed up spots on the beds, leaving her to curl up on the floor with her oversized blankets. Which, whatever. They might not be able to quell the storm outside, but her affinity was elemental magic; she was just fine under her blankets, channeling a bit of heat to warm herself and the space she was resting on.

Clarke, on the other hand, hadn’t managed to grab a spot on the beds in time, and looked absolutely miserable off in the corner, quivering like a leaf. Whatever specialty the other blonde had, it didn't include anything involved with heat, that was for sure. While Anya had never been known to be the most hospitable person to relative strangers, this was Clarke Griffin, the certifiably cute girl she might have had a bit of a crush on for ages.

Sure, she'd never managed the guts to talk to her when she was younger, and left their stream to graduate into a different coven before she could even remotely become friends with her, but the feelings had remained over the years. They only grew again after her transfer to their current coven. Not that she'd act on those feelings, certainly not so brusquely, but she could finally extend an olive branch to her crush. There were worse things than sharing her sleeping area.

“Clarke...Clarke...” She whispered across to the blonde, letting out an annoyed growl when the girl didn’t register her voice. When blue eyes darted towards her at the sound of her frustration, she could only roll her eyes. “Do you want hypothermia? Get over here!”

Clarke eyed her blankets with clear yearning, but shook her head. “They’re yours. I don’t want to bother you.”

Anya let out a scoff and threw her blankets back a little, enough to hold out a hand palm upwards, summoning a small flame after a brief whispered incantation. “Don’t be dense. I don’t want you to freeze to death. Plenty of room here for us both.”

Clarke hesitated for a few moments before letting out a lengthy sigh and crawling over to her. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Anya flung the blankets back and patted the spot beside her, watching as Clarke settled down onto it, an immediately relieved smile blooming on the girl’s face. "Oh wow, it’s so warm. Thank you." Clarke murmured, only seeming more content with the warm blankets that were draped over her. "Remind me to sit by you on the bus ride tomorrow."

“Whatever. Just sleep.” Anya mumbled as she let out another burst of warmth into the pocket of air they were sharing, doing her best not to show how happy and excited she was that Clarke had taken her up on her offer, and that the girl was maybe considering sitting by her on the bus tomorrow. Looking overeager only ever led to rejection, she learned that the hard way.

Clarke did indeed sleep, zonking out almost right away, which made for a double-edged sword.

On one hand, Anya wasn’t being kept up by Griffin talking, or moving around trying to get comfy, or anything like what she often dealt with when sleeping over at Lexa’s. However, the silence and ever-present steady breathing coming from her gave Anya’s mind a lot of space to think about the future. About a potential friendship with Clarke. About maybe potentially something else off into the future if Clarke swung that way and wound up single.

Between her thoughts and how tired she was, Anya fell into a haze, half asleep and slipping in and out of shallow dreams and semi-conscious thoughts on the girl beside her.

Honestly, she wasn't sure how much time had passed, and figured she was stuck in a dream for a few moments before she pieced together that the sudden warmth and curious wetness was real, that the sounds coming from Clarke were actually happening, and that the other blonde had actually closed the distance.

Anya needed a few more moments for the location of the wetness and friction to register, and a few seconds longer to think past the fact that Clarke had woke her up to recognize that maybe it'd be a good idea to see what was going on, since Clarke was definitely straddling one of her thighs and all.

"Clarke...? Whuh you doin'?" Anya slurred out, blinking away her sleep. She moved to roll away from the girl, but Clarke held fast and, more than that, held her down, body writhing against her, hips rolling against her right thigh.

It didn't seem possible, didn't seem real, but Clarke was humping the hell out of her, and sounded like she was close, a small annoyed grumble signaling that the blue-eyed beauty was quite content with where she was.

"Clarke, I'm not a damned pillow you can..." She started to say, hand reaching down to tilt the other blonde's head up to face her, not wanting Clarke to be able to ignore her. Except, it was clear as day, even in the dimness of the room, that Clarke wasn't exactly present, given how completely dazed the girl looked, as if her body was just on autopilot. Anya wasn't sure how to feel outside of deeply confused as she lay there, Clarke's climax building as her thigh got more and more soaked.

In all honesty, she was concerned. She'd heard of sleepwalking, talking in your sleep, that sort of thing. Anything remotely sexual while asleep? Anya had chalked that particular notion up as a myth before tonight. None of her past partners had even remotely done anything sexual while zonked out.

Yet, the quiet whimper and tight grip as Clarke's body shook, the girl clinging hard to her as an orgasm ran its course, let Anya know it was anything but a myth. And Clarke certainly wouldn't have behaved like that if she had full control of herself, so Anya knew she needed to take care of this properly, make sure Clarke was safe. After all, that was her role in the coven, so it wasn't as if anyone would think it strange; she'd physically defended their coven and innocents, and she'd hidden or destroyed harmful secrets. A wide range of tasks was in her job description, so protecting Clarke from whatever fallout there could be from this was her responsibility.

It wasn't as if she was head over heels and taking orders from her heart or anything like that, after all.

Slowly, the tension bled out of the blonde atop her, and Clarke's relaxed body curled up against her with a happy hum.

While all Anya wanted to do was catch a few more hours of sleep, especially with Clarke snuggled up halfway atop her, she knew she couldn't leave Clarke until the morning, when others might be up. Discretion seemed like it'd be important, given the circumstances, and Anya didn't want Clarke to be embarrassed. Even if she herself had suffered worse, she wouldn't wish anything of the sort for Clarke.

Gently, she took hold of the girl's shoulders and shook, jostling Clarke repeatedly until tired eyes fluttered open, a furrowed brow and an annoyed pout meeting her gaze. Clearly, she didn't like her sleep being disturbed.

"What? Tryin' to sleep, Anya." Clarke grumbled, letting out a frustrated huff as she propped herself up on an elbow.

Anya swallowed, unsure what words were appropriate, but that she needed to say something. "Clarke, you need to wake up."

Clarke's head cocked to the side in clear confusion, the girl moving to shift from her spot nestled against her when Griffin just froze, eyes widening.  "Oh shit....oh shit shit shit..."

Clarke immediately went to move away, but Anya didn't like the sheer panic written on the girl's face, so she wrapped her arms around Clarke's waist, holding her in place. "Don't freak out, it's whatever." Anya stated in her best reassuring voice, but Clarke wasn't having any of it. Even in the low light, she could see the glassiness of Clarke's eyes clearly. "How about we just take it easy for a bit, Clarke?" She added, reaching up to brush a fallen tear from the girl's cheek.

"I have no idea how to do that." Clarke grit out in a harsh whisper as she leaned away, breath hitching as a wave of realization seemed to wash over her. "Oh goddess, you must hate me now!"

Anya rolled her eyes, unsure how Griffin got that impression at all. With as much courage as she could muster, she reached down with a hand and ran her fingers across the slick coating atop her pajamas. Without a moment's hesitation, she brought it up and lightly smacked Clarke in the cheek with her wet fingers, stunning the girl.

"Stop it. You weren't in control. I don't hold it against you. But we need to clean up, and you need to calm down." Anya spoke slowly, holding Clarke's gaze, halfway wishing she could see the blues of her eyes, but she'd take what she could get. Anya maintained eye contact and waited as the other girl's breathing slowed and evened out. "You're okay. Tell me when you're good to head in."

Clarke nodded and kept working at her breathing. "I don't understand why you're not freaking out."

Anya swallowed hard and let out a heavy breath. "Not the exact same deal, but I might sort of know what it's like." Of course, she'd dealt with her own mishaps alone, in secret, no witnesses to be had, but she could empathize. She knew how scary it was for her body to betray her, and how embarrassing or humiliating it could feel to deal with the aftermath. Clarke deserved as much support through it as she might have liked in ideal circumstances.

Clarke let out a hollow laugh as she shook her head. "I doubt that."

Anya took the dismissal in stride, knowing she probably would have said the same in Clarke's shoes. "If you can talk, you can walk. Let's get washed up." Anya noted, rolling out from under Clarke and grabbing their luggage, hauling it quietly into the hotel room bathroom. Clarke followed her in a few moments later, her posture of movements all screaming discomfort and caution. "You want to shower first, or after?"

Clarke kept her eyes downcast, cheeks fiercely red under the harsh fluorescent lighting. "Second. Again, I'm sorry." Clarke reiterated, slumping back against the sink. "I didn't mean to. It's just...I'm not on meds for it yet. So I just...yeah. Sorry."

She cocked her head, brain whirring away at the other girl's words, wondering what medication might help with it. "You don't have to apologize. Is this...is this common, though?"

The immediate red tint at Clarke's cheeks almost had her heart thrumming faster than the sharp, steely glare Clarke shot her way, even if that glare only lasted a second or two. "I didn't fucking cum all over you because you're special or something. Don't take this as something it's not."

"I apologize, and I just didn't think you'd...well. It's just I woke up with you straddling my thigh, and you were a foot or two away before..."

"I'm a restless sleeper!" Clarke hissed in a barely muted whisper, head angling back to let out an exasperated sigh. "I sleep with a body pillow, so I'm constantly shifting around and ready to latch onto what’s soft and warm nearby. But...anyways, it's happened before. You weren't the reason."

Anya shook her head. "I wouldn't think I was. We don't even know each other well. In the end, it doesn't matter...I just want you comfortable, Clarke. I'm doing a bad job of it, and I'm sorry for that." She said, her mouth twisting as she pondered her options. It had been a while since she was brazen, or took such a risk in trusting someone, but she knew how horrible being vulnerable could feel. She wanted Clarke to feel a bit more secure, and she could tell the girl felt anything but at the moment.

Mind made up, Anya pulled her t-shirt over her head and pulled off her pajama pants, leaving herself half naked. Even though Clarke's gaze was still fixed on the showerhead, she could see the harsh swallow, the tense lines of her throat. "Look, we both know how it feels for our bodies to do stuff we don't want and can't control. You didn't want me to know about this, and I found out. I can speak words, but promises can't make you trust that I won't tell anyone." She said, waiting for a sign that Clarke was listening, a slight nod, before continuing. "So let's level the playing field, Clarke. Because I trust you not to disclose to the others that I'm trans."

With that, Anya grabbed for a towel and finished disrobing underneath it, allowing herself to be nearly nude in front of another person for the first time since just before her exile from her previous coven. She could feel the dysphoria burning in her gut, threatening to spread out and consume her, but she kept focus on finding her shower products in her toiletries bag, not wanting to make a huge deal out of the revelation.  

"If you put your dirty clothes in the sink, I'll wash and dry them later while you clean up." She offered before stepping into the shower, setting her products on the ledge and shutting the curtain.

Anya knew it'd likely be awkward between them, but she hoped, if nothing else, that she'd reassured the other girl even just a little bit. Maybe from that, they could start towards friendship.

Just maybe.

Clarke felt sheepish huddled up on the toilet seat in the biggest towel she could find, but given her situation, it was a necessity. Her sexsomnia had gotten her in trouble with Anya, and the last thing she needed was her fellow witch to be thrust into even more of an uncomfortable situation than they already had been.

It didn't matter what Anya said, Clarke knew the girl had to have taken some issue with what happened. People didn't just get their thighs used for orgasms by a stranger and shrug it off. And even if Anya could for some reason, she certainly woke the girl up in the middle of the night and had her doing laundry. No one liked being woken up to do chores. Still, Anya had been kind of sweet about it all, if a little clumsy, and had gone over the top to make her feel comfortable with it all.

Not that she could, but it was the thought that counted. Clarke couldn't shake the guilt over not having sought out medical help with her situation earlier, but it was a tiny bit comforting to know Anya was being good about it all.

Maybe it didn't hurt that she'd already been crushing on the tall, thorny witch since long before she arrived back in the coven after a few years away. She’d had a longstanding crush on her in their younger years as initiates, and had despaired when Anya suddenly graduated into a different coven than most of their stream, something no one had really expected. 

When Anya was welcomed into her coven a little under a year ago, she was different, much thornier and more distant than even before, if also more beautiful, but experiencing this softer side of the girl only endeared her to Anya more. Learning she was trans was a little confusing, and had her off balance for a few minutes, but again, it was clear that Anya trusted her.

That was more than enough to trust her with the rest of the night. Maybe once they were on the bus curled up together, maybe she could have a more than necessary conversation with her about spending some more time together, something she had hoped for once upon a time, before Anya had vanished way back when.

Clarke startled a bit at the sound of the shower turning off. "Just letting you know I'm done in here. Stepping out now."

Clarke moved to the sink, giving Anya plenty of space as she left the shower and grabbed the towel she'd set out.

"Oh, you did leave out your clothes. Good, I can wash and dry them along with mine." Anya continued as she covered up, lifting a hand to her head and emanating some level of heat as the girl's hair dried quickly without frizzing.

Clarke nodded and squeezed past her, stopping on the bath mat. "Thank you, Anya." She murmured before getting behind the shower curtain and tossing her towel out behind her.

The water was still warm, thankfully, letting her get to business quickly in cleaning up. She didn't bother washing her hair, just keeping it up in a bun while she got to it.

Her memory flashed back to when she was being drawn out of slumber, and the brief moment of comfort and contentment at realizing she was cuddled up with Anya. Sure, she'd been annoyed at being woken up, but staring down at a face that was normally so hard and closed off, only to see an oddly soft expression staring back at her, it did something to her.

Maybe she'd like Anya to look at her like that again one day.

It didn't take long to get clean, and she could hear the sink running when she turned the shower off. Careful as she could, she grabbed up her towels from the shower mat and covered herself up before stepping out. Anya was standing over the sink and mumbling, one hand holding up her pajama pants, and the other weaving water through it.

Clarke watched as the girl used a soapy mixture of water in turn, then another rinse and heat to set it. It was strange, basically seeing Anya use her magic to be a human washing machine, but it had her wondering what other ingenious ways the girl could use her specialty.

Her own was a bit simpler. It wasn't much of anything she confided in many others about, not wanting to garner scrutiny. Having the affinity to 'Jedi mind trick' someone, as Raven often put it, was a dangerous ability, especially since that was a bit of an understatement. More Kilgrave than Kenobi, except it did at least require her to make preparations or at least make an effort instead of a thoughtless word potentially being life-threatening.

It was all a big reason why she kept her distance from most in any meaningful way, but maybe Anya wouldn't be horrified. Maybe.

It wasn't until Anya finished with her pajamas that she seemed to realize that the shower was off, startling a little, head swiveling around to gaze in the shower's direction, settling on her. "I put your stuff on the toilet seat. They should still be clean and warm."

"Thank you." She noted sincerely, taking hold of the garments and slipping back behind the shower curtain to change. Embarrassing or not, Anya had cleaned her panties. On top of that, her clothes were all deliciously warm, and by the time she stepped back out, the residual heat was more than enough to make her feel sleepy again. "You didn't have to do any of this. You could have hated me."

"Why would I do that?" Anya asked with a level of confusion so audible and visible that Clarke wondered if Anya had forgotten about what happened out in the hotel room. "Anyways, it's okay. You're part of my coven, so I'm here to help. You're a good person. You didn't do anything wrong." Anya added flatly, shaking her head.

Clarke wasn't entirely sure on what track record Anya was making that judgment, but she appreciated the sentiment. "We should get back to sleep." She let out with a yawn. Anya readily agreed, taking hold of what seemed to be the blankets and their luggage as they quietly left the bathroom, the others in the room still fast asleep. Where the girl found the time to do all the laundry was a mystery to her, but either way, they sneakily made their way back into the room and settled back down where they'd been.

Anya, apparently a gentlewoman despite how she'd woke her up before, laid the blankets out and settled in a good foot and a half from Clarke. Wanting to figure out if it was manners or disgust causing the distance, Clarke shifted closer. "Pssst..." She let out, waiting for Anya's head to turn towards her before continuing. Thankfully, all she saw in the girl's face was confusion. Manners it was, apparently. "Maybe it's paranoia speaking but I'm a little worried it might happen again. I can't predict it. But maybe...maybe if we spoon, I won't be able to do anything even if my body tries?"

Anya blinked slowly once, twice, before offering a small nod. "That makes sense. I don't move in my sleep, so if I fall asleep holding you, neither of us will be going anywhere."

"Well, your arms might relax, but it's still a better plan than any other." Clarke added, earning a quick huff.

"I thought you'd have realized by now...I don't relax very easily. Not even in my sleep." Anya elaborated with an amused smirk, and alright, perhaps that did make a bit of sense, all things considered. The girl was rather intense, and sometimes even sleep couldn't cure folks of that. "But...Clarke...if your body does try to get off on me again, it won't be your fault. You can't help it. There's no shame in that."

It was a sentiment that even if she couldn't fully believe it, she could take some comfort in it.

With a steadying breath, Clarke rolled onto her other side and scooted backwards, stifling a gasp when she felt herself shuffle up against Anya. She tried to focus on a possible future friendship, cuddling on the bus, that soft expression Anya woke her with, anything but the strong arms around her waist or the soft puffs of breath on her neck that might have her thinking of more explicit things. It was everything she could do to whisk those away in hopes she wouldn't bring about another accident in the night.

"Just sleep, Clarke. Tomorrow's a new day." Anya let out in a yawn, the air around them warming up as Anya nuzzled into her shoulder.

As much as she wanted to appreciate the moment, between the heat, her lack of sleep, and the cozy comfort of being held, she found herself slipping away into slumber quickly. She barely got her arms to cover Anya's before dreams overtook her once more.

Anya had woken up alone a few minutes after the rest of the group had started to rise, and as much as she was a little disappointed in that, she was happy to get on with their ridiculous trip. According to Lexa, the coven traveled up to visit the site every five years, and she'd been unlucky enough to transfer in a little under a year ago, just in time to make the pilgrimage.

To make the day slightly more disappointing, Clarke had taken a seat with someone else on the bus. Raven, Anya was fairly sure, but she'd never been the best with names. Still, at least Lexa kept her company, her cousin deciding that she was more in need of company than Costia, apparently. Which, well, wasn't entirely wrong.

It made for an alright bus ride, Lexa's quiet presence helping settle her nerves and keep her temporarily distracted from the ridiculous trip. However when they departed the bus, and Anya saw two members of the council waiting there that had been off-site with various prior duties, she had a feeling that something was up.

When she watched Lexa, Costia, and Nia get called over, she definitely knew her suspicions were confirmed, hanging back to wait for her cousin while the others went off ahead to the old coven's ritual site.

Anya waited, teeth on edge as the group talked, watching Lexa's expression get darker and angrier with each passing second. There weren't many reasons she could think of for the council congregating out of the blue, but one came to mind after the previous night's events.

Anya shook her head. Clarke Griffin was a lot of things, but she never got the feeling that she was transphobic.

Which meant something absolutely hellish was probably happening, so Anya made the executive decision to sweep the premises for any threats, just wanting to help in case there was some imminent danger or threat.

It was when she noticed small groups of their coven's members head off in the direction of the large barn on the property that she felt real concern. So when she was nearing the end of her sweep and got a text from Lexa, telling her to meet her cousin back near the bus, maybe she'd already psyched herself up mentally for something bad.

She'd seen Lexa furious before, and it was clear as Anya approached that her cousin had merely tamped down on those emotions, trying to appear calmer than she was. Maybe that stirred some worry in Anya's chest, but she pushed it aside and leaned up against the bus beside Lexa.

"What's the verdict?" She asked, figuring some sort of vote had occurred, or was currently happening.

"You don't have to worry, it's been taken care of. Just...expect some hostility from some of the council members going forward." Lexa stated, voice hardly suppressing the cold, flinty anger her cousin often let out when threatened.

Meaning that as stunned as Anya was that she'd been outed, as horrified as she was to have been wrong about Clarke, this was also blowing back on Lexa. And that was unforgivable.

"What can I do to make this right for you?" Anya asked, earning a sharp shake of the head from her cousin.

"No. Nothing. We both know Nia's been gunning for my role in the council ever since I was chosen in the rite. She's using this as a sign that I'm undermining the history and tradition of the coven. The council was...split, which is why all the membership is voting. But I promise you, I have enough support for you, you're not going anywhere." Lexa insisted, her calm facade falling away bit by bit, letting her previous fury leak out. "You're as much a woman, as much a witch, as any of us."

Anya nodded along, head feeling like it was full of cotton as she just stared numbly at the barn off in the distance. She'd been told the same thing at her last coven, and had still been exiled.  It didn't matter that their goddess granted her a connection to magic, as She did any other woman in the coven. All that mattered to some was how she had been assigned at birth, an absurd thing to get stuck up on, but apparently not a hatred so easily escapable.

"Did they say who told them?" Anya asked, knowing the answer, but just needing to hear it anyways.

"Sienne said a witch she trusted confided with her, and she confided with other council members before bringing it to me." Lexa answered, Anya's fists clenching hard enough for her nails to cut the skin of her palms. Sienne was Clarke's section supervisor, overseeing all the witches whose affinities fell more in line with research and subterfuge.

Her heart twisted in her chest, knowing she'd trusted Clarke with something so important, only to be betrayed. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking, perhaps she'd been foolish, too blinded by her affection to see the truth of Clarke's character.

Anya had woken up that morning hoping to work  on a new friendship, but now, with betrayal burning in her chest, with fear for her cousin setting her body on edge, all she could do was hold the line and do whatever she could to protect herself and Lexa. She'd hoped for a new home, a fresh start, but if she couldn't have that, she could at least have her cousin and Costia.

That would have to be enough.

To be honest, the whispering was kind of getting to her.

For the first half of the bus trip, she could tell some of the nearby witches were likely spreading some sort of gossip. Ontari, who was across the aisle from her, kept glancing her way, stifling the occasional laugh as she and her friend whispered away. It was a little annoying, but whatever. The coven had always been a little cliquey.

When they got off the bus, and others would reduce their conversations to a whisper whenever she and Raven were near, that raised a bit of a red flag that maybe something was off.

And when Nia goddamn Frost walked by, staring her down with sheer amusement in her eyes, well, Clarke knew something was going on that involved her.

Given she tended to be pretty low-key within the coven, there was only one possibility that came to mind, but it was hard to accept. Anya, after all, had been so sweet. Anya had trusted her with a secret of her own. There was no reason for the woman to go public about any of the previous night's events.

And yet, she and Anya had been alone. Anya had also been called away not long after they had arrived too meet with the full council, meaning something serious was being discussed. So what other explanation was there?

"Fuck, what is with the rest of the coven today? They're gawking at us like we shit our pants or something." Raven noted with a glare at Nia Frost's retreating frame.

"I made a mistake." Clarke muttered, staring hard in the direction of the barn in the distance. "When something seems too good to be true, it is."

Clarke could see Raven fiddle with the knife at her hip in her peripheral vision. "You need me to beat someone up, Clarkey? You know I've got you, no questions asked."

"Nah. Council's convened, and I'm pretty sure they're throwing the hammer down on her. Probably for 'inciting unrest' in the coven. She'll be someone else's problem soon enough, and...everyone will forget about my crap soon enough." She answered, letting out one last sigh of disappointment, not wanting to waste any more of her emotional energy on Anya. She would feel no guilt over wanting her exiled, and just hoped that people would soon enough forget about her own secret that was clearly spilled.

"And if they don't kick this mystery person out?" Raven asked, eyes narrowing as she shifted weight from one leg to the other.

Clarke turned to face her friend, unable to control the severe expression on her face at the notion. "Then I'll take care of it personally."

[hermionefanfics]

√ Dramione (Draco x Hermione) / Sevmione (Severus x Hermione) √ Setting: 6th year of Hogwarts √ 71 chapters √ My score: ❤❤❤ (enjoyable) √ Rating: M √ Language: ***** (close to no mistakes)

Draco and Hermione find themselves stuck on the Antarctic after an accident in Apparating. They need a way to get through the night without freezing to death… which calls for desperate measures.

My notes: One week in Rome and she goes from mousy little girl to a sexbomb? Can't she just be the love of their lives because of her intelligence (like they claim she is)... That sex scene halfway through was way over the top. I love the channeling of gran, she must have been one hell of a woman!

[shiny-procrastinates]

(re)Watching Magia Record S1 - part 7

part 6 here

Hello everyone and welcome back to this quasi-watchalong of Magia Record season 1! Last time, Iroha met a magical girl mercenary called Felicia, and the two ended up caught in the Rumor of the Lucky Owl Water. When our girls went to erase it, a cult group of weirdos called The Wings of the Magius stood in their way and got Felicia to join them promising the extinction of all witches.

Who are these weirdos? What are they up to protecting the Rumors? Is what they promised Felicia true? Et cetera, et cetera. Let's just go to the episode to find out already.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story: Magia Record S1 episode 7

O-oh... what a way to start an episode, huh.

We get a look into what led to Felicia becoming a magical girl and, like most magical girl backstories, it's tragic. This is the reason why Felicia's obsessed with destroying all witches.

Continuing from the previous episode, Felicia was taken to a subterranean waterway, that might be their hideout. Wait, didn't Kaede say something about a rumor of a giant underground empire some time back? She might've been right after all hahaha

After walking a while, Felicia is met by Tsukasa and Tsukuyo Amane, two of the, uh, generals I guess I could say, of The Wings of the Magius.

The weirdo twins explain that their organization's objective is fulfilling the wishes of the Magius, whose objective is the salvation of all magical girls. See, so they are the ones behind the salvation propaganda.

The twins say their objective cannot be completed without the eradication of witches, which... well, is not a lie. Without the witchfication, there would be no witches. It's all fine until there, but then they're also protecting Rumors, who kidnap people, so... yeah.

...uh, hey, Kyoko? What are you doing here?

Back to Iroha's group, Iroha is worried about just letting Felicia go like that, to which Yachiyo answers it's fine because she planted a GPS on her... sasuga, Yachiyo. Why in the heck did you have that?

"Am I being tracked too...?”

Yachiyo says this much is normal (no it's not), since she didn't trust Felicia to begin with, but Iroha just feels bad knowing Felicia's circumstances.

The trio heads towards Felicia's position and find the entrance to the waterway. Waiting for them there was...

Chibi Kyuubei. For as adorable as he is, he manages to look even more suspicious than the original. And he only shows up when there's a rumor around, too! I don't trust him.

Back at the underground waterway, Kyoko and Felicia are having a little chat. According to her, Kyoko only just ran into them too. She says that as long as she has Grief Seeds, food and a place to sleep, the rest doesn't matter, but she also seems to be aware that the WoM are fishy. Felicia agrees uneasily, but hearing that they might be behind the witches gathering in Kamihama seems to already have put doubts in her mind.

The two have a meeting with the Amane twins inside the Rumor's barrier.

The twins explain the logic behind the Lucky Owl Water once again, and Kyoko says this

There it is! This series' core. Funny hearing that from Kyoko, since I think she doesn't even know how right she is yet.

Kyoko rejects the Water and lays out her terms: as long as she can keep gathering Grief Seeds, she's fine with anything. However, the twins affirm that those are not necessary in Kamihama. Normally, I'd say these two are bonkers, but... well, we saw what happened to Iroha and Kaede. These two must know about that too. At this moment, a black feather comes in and interrupts their little show.

Iroha's group was making their way through the waterway when the Amane twins block their way and, together with them, Kyoko and Felicia.

The Amane twins tell Iroha to do what they say if she doesn't want to be swallowed by bad luck and Iroha asks them why would they create that Rumor, to which the twins once more say it's for the sake of the Magius and their salvation. See, cult.

Yachiyo cuts to the chase and confirms they're here to battle, and the twins pull out something strange on them.

So, yeah. There's pocket monsters, and now we have pocket witches too, apparently.

The twins called a witch upon our girls, which, according to them, they are controlling with magic. As the girls begin fighting against their familiars, Yachiyo asks the twins if they have any idea of what exactly they're doing. Tsukasa apologizes, but affirms that witches will be gone if they can realize their plans. The twins (literally) pull the rug on Yachiyo and Tsuruno and chase after them, leaving the (weak) Iroha to Kyoko and Felicia.

Iroha gets whacked by the familiars and Felicia comes in to help. Iroha then once again dashes in her direction and they do a connect. Upon further thought, I think Iroha's assist is a booster in a more literal sense, since it turned Felicia's hammer into a rocket-hammer. My theory is that it's the same propulsion magic that makes her crossbow work.

Felicia's hammer causes a quake and one of the twins asks what's going on. Well, what did you think would happen if you released a witch in front of someone who notoriously goes berserk when they see witches? The twins might not be very smart.

Damn, I missed a number.

Kyoko bounces too. She wasn't very convinced with the twins' vague talk of "salvation".

After transforming, Kyoko does her good act of the day, busting a hole in the barrier and telling Iroha to go on ahead. Iroha hesitates to leave her friends behind but obeys when Yachiyo tells her to go.

With Kyoko guarding her back Iroha manages to make it out of the witch's p*kéball and into the Rumor's barrier. Like it's said, out of the frying pan into the fire. Oh and there's 7-6. I'm really missing numbers left and right today.

No Iroha, don't go chase the Kyuubei towards the light...! Just kidding. Iroha gets out of the tunnel and finds the Rumor's main body. She confirms with her tutorial mascot if she only has to break that, readies her crossbow and... gets swarmed by owls. C'mon Iroha, did you really think it'd be that easy?

While Iroha's busy sucking at battles, Felicia's not having a better time with her reckless style either. Kyoko saves her ass and tells her she's not winning like that.

This whole sequence is just great in terms of animation, shame I can't really screenshot that T-T

As someone on a similar spot, Kyoko gives Felicia some advice, telling her she's a magical girl for her own sake; that's how it should be when she's betting her own life.

The two cooperate on destroying the witches, with Felicia bonking the whole barrier to smithereens. Nice job, rocket-hammer!

The girls go back to the waterway and the twins' Soul Gem is quite drained. Tsuruno tells them to stop already, but these two weirdos say that's just what they wanted.

Saying that they'll be able to show that Kamihama is a place of salvation, the two do the same thing Iroha and Kaede had done.

Uhhh... if the salvation that the Magius is preaching is spewing out a witch from your body, that's already super fishy. There's no way there's no downside to this. This is Madoka we are talking about... right...?

While Yachiyo's group learns a shocking and disturbing truth, Iroha's busy getting her ass kicked. Poor Iroha

and oh god, I don't think anyone would ever catch this number if they weren't pausing as much as I am to write this.

Iroha keeps getting wrecked by the owls, miraculously escaping unscathed thanks to the Lucky Owl Water. As the numbers keep counting down, Iroha starts questioning what happened to her back in the Seance Shrine. Uh, Iroha, is this really the best time to be introspecting?

No matter how many times I see it, this scene still creeps me out.

While Iroha gets another round of spawning a witch, Yachiyo's group fight the twins', to no avail. Back to Iroha...

Oh no the witch talks now? Eek... oh, wait wait is this still Iroha's voice?

Not that the first thing it said is wrong, but Yachiyo's words really remained in a negative manner, huh? First in the Seance Shrine and now this. Iroha, don't go getting yourself killed trying to become stronger, ok?

A-at least it's a bit cuter now... if you can call a witch that... rather, why did it change?

Iroha's thing makes short work of the Rumor and the Chibi Kyuubei peaces out. As if it wasn't suspicous enough, it turns into freaking water. Goddammit Chibi Kyuubei.

Iroha just lies there tired.

Uhh... yeah, sure, if you count an eldritch abomination coming out of you as part of yourself, then yeah you did.

Like last time, Iroha's Soul Gem is pristine clean now.

Back to the twins, thanks to the floating water falling they realize that the Rumor's been defeated , then start panicking.

"Someone", whose voice we're already familiar with, comes in to check on the situation and the twins apologize for their failure.

Whelp, this is awkward. Hello there, Mifuyu. So you joined a cult.

Tsuruno gets really emotional. She runs up and hugs Mifuyu. who stops the Black Feathers from attacking her. Tsuruno's really glad that she's back and says they'll have to make a "Welcome Back Party" at her family's restaurant, but Mifuyu says she's not going back, because she's part of the cult The Wings of the Magius now. (couldn't they choose a shorter name for their group? Geez)

Mifuyu shifts her attention to Yachiyo and says she's happy that they went even to Seance Shrine to search for her; Yachiyo says it's thanks to the Kamihama Rumor Files (the notebook Yachiyo carries around) that she left behind.

Yachiyo asks but Mifuyu implies she's the one that was left behind.

Mifuyu invites Yachiyo to join the cult but Yachiyo, obviously, can't agree with their methods. She questions if Mifuyu hadn't resolved herself as a magical girl but Mifuyu, like we saw in the flashback, really wants to be saved. Yachiyo's the only one who's strong like that.

Yachiyo says she'll stop her by force if she has to and they prepare to battle again, but Mifuyu uses her magic and has her group leave.

Iroha's group leave the underground waterway (seems Kyoko has gone her way already too). Felicia tries to leave too and says she has nowhere to go back to when Iroha stops her and asks, so Iroha tells her to come over to her place.

Felicia says she doesn't have to do that for her, but Iroha says she's doing this for herself, that she needs Felicia's strenght. Felicia argues that Iroha will get in trouble again if she's around and all the girls chip in saying they'll help her learn to hold herself back. (I'm not sure what this far framing is doing but I do like how it lets us see the body expression of all the girls at once.)

Huh, weird, why is the screen so blurry? I can't type like this...

Iroha apologizes for what they said and insists on having Felicia over, even if just for the day. Yachiyo comes in and tells them to stay over at her place instead.

*sobs* so beautiful ;-; I wish I knew the name of the ost track here it's really pretty too.

It really is Kyoko, it really is.

At Yachiyo's place, Iroha's on the phone with her parents while the others wait for her to eat. It seems like her parents finally decided on where she's going to be moving to, and whatever they said was a surprise.

There goes the last number! The Rumor's gone so this has to be purely for the sake of finishing the countdown, but I have long given up on trying to find the ones I'm missing in this episode.

And there's the title card. Don't leave the episode yet, though, as there's still an after credits scene.

To absolutely no one's surprise besides Iroha's, the place her parents decided on is Mikadzuki Villa, Yachiyo's place. Now, I did say that last number must be purely illustrative, but I'm inclined to agree with Iroha here on it being thanks to the Lucky Owl Water since there is no other way I can rationalize Iroha's parents, from overseas, managing to find the phone number of Mikadzuki Villa, that's not even doing boarding anymore, calling while Yachiyo's around to respond, making an agreement to let Iroha live there, and Yachiyo not even telling Iroha her parents called. So yeah, I say it was the Lucky Owl Water.

Felicia comes with Tsuruno and reveals she's also been living in Yachiyo's place. She's happy she'll be freed from living alone with Yachiyo and her "nagging" and Yachiyo tells her to clean up; Iroha says she's glad to see them getting along.

“When did I turn into a mom?“

That's a new type of bishie sparkles alright. Can all models do this? Is it like some special ability like Gabs' censor light rays? We'll never know.

After the various types of ad, now we have spam too. Magia Record is actually warning us about the dangers of the internet.

...In all seriousness though, that's some mysterious text. How do they, whoever "they" are, know that Iroha's a magical girl? And most of all, how do they have her number? Guess this is going to be the mystery for the next episode. (Also, I never noticed this before but you can hear a veeeery quiet chime when the messages come in. Nice detail!).

- x -

Aaaand with that, we have concluded episode 7! This one also ran on longer than I expected and, surprisingly, managed to surpass the number of screenshots of all others at about 43 images. sugoi

I couldn't catch all the numbers this time, but the ones I did were: 13-12 with Iroha on the bridge; 10-9 when Kyoko "betrays" the WoM; 7-6 when Iroha finds the Rumor; 6 through 1 happen while Iroha's fighting the Rumor and the last 1-0 was in Yachiyo's magazine. With that, I'm missing 12-11; 11-10; 9-8 and 8-7, which I have no idea where they are. Oh well.

I realized partway through that it kinda seems like I'm dissing Iroha every chance I get, but I assure you I don't hate her. In fact, she's my favorite character! This is coming purely from a place of affection, and a bit of frustration at what the anime did to her character, so don't mind me, it's aaall good.

With that out of the way, this was episode 7! We are now over halfway through, with a buckload of mysteries and barely any progress being made towards finding Iroha's younger sister. Poor Ui, if you even existed. Tomorrow, we'll be watching episode 8, so I hope you'll read me again then. Have a great morning/afternoon/evening and see you later!

[witch0000]

This is hysterical--they’re making fun of alien tentacle in The Tomorrow War, she dishes on Fred and Serena, and there are suggestive jokes throughout--enjoy!

[ghost-maya]

post seven sentences from your current wip and then tag seven others. thanks for the tag @bringingglory !! i actually have a proper wip for once 

Tobio furrowed his brows. “I’ve never heard of a curse like that before.” 

“Me either,” said Hinata. His eyes weren’t focused on reality, and he was frowning. “When I turn, I lose control.”

Tobio nodded. “Birdbrain.”

“Wh—no! Well, yes. But don’t call it that!” 

“You’re right. A bird would have known to move out of the way when someone’s flying straight at them.”

This is from my Kagehina witchfic I’ve been working on for a few months now! It’s been a fun personal project that I pick up and put down every so often so it’ll probably take a while to complete. Maybe I’ll finish it by the end of 2021, who’s to say? 

tagging (pls dont rb if u do asfj): @kiroiimye @redyarns @superish @omgchyeahplease @sapphoz  @raysoftwilight @hiimcynth if you want!~

[magicalgirlagency]

I remember one user trying to justify madoka's actions as a goddess by stating that it is a cosmic horror story where we realize our ultimate meaninglessness at the end which is what makes pmmm "amazing" even though that claim makes it the opposite.

Look, I don't hate Madoka as a character. She's a nice and lovely girl who didn't deserved to witness such horrible things, and had genuinely good intentions; she was right, it's indeed unfair for a person to suffer so much, specially when said person hasn't done anything to deserve it.

But as a goddess... she was weak as hell, and has barely changed the system. The Incubators were still alive in her new world, and Sayaka still died and was taken away from the mortal realm before Oktavia would emerge.

In her new world, puella magi still fight and fight until they die; the witchfication process has been removed.

Plus, the Wraiths, the new threats puella magi face in Madoka's new world, felt like something the staff has pulled out of their asses on the last minute, because what the puella magi will fight against, since witches are no more? The Incubators, who manipulated, traumatized and cursed young women since the beginning of times, stripped them of their humanity and turned them into zombies, compared emotions to mental illnesses, gloated about their interference on Earth's history as something good for humanity's progress, and comes up with the "you didn't asked" excuse when confronted by the girls once they have learned the truth? Nah son, let's create some new threat out of fucking nowhere and let the hellspawns live!

May I remind you what Madoka said to Kyuubey on the 9th episode, after learning about their entropy plan:

"If that's how you think, then you really are our enemy."

OUR ENEMY.

INCUBATORS ARE THE ENEMY.

THEN FUCKING MAKE IT SO, NOT REPLACE THEM WITH NEW UNRELATED ONES.

MAKE THE VILLAINS PAY FOR THEIR CRIMES.

And Madoka didn't said that she would destroy and rewrite any rule that would stand in the way of her wish? And Gods are like, powerful beings; they can do whatever they want. If you ask me, she should've done more than just creating a Magical Girl Valhalla.

The thing is, I don't want Madoka to be praised and recognized for her feats; I want her to be happy and safe in a world where the stakes aren't fucking high and the odds aren't always against genuninely nice people.

Wishing for a better world and wanting to help others is not an extravagant wish. If it were, then every magical girl ever should've been dead by now.

Self-care is important, even magical girls need one too!

Madoka was a fucking sacrificial lamb. She was the pure and sinless character who felt extremely out of place in a dark setting, and would later die for shock value. In a grimdark setting, always expect for the kind-hearted character to die in some heart-wrenching fashion.

And lastly, I remember reading somewhere in the PMMM wiki that Gen Urobuchi (writer) and Akiyuki Shinbo (director) have come up with the ending for The Rebellion Story because they thought a 14yo girl becoming a goddess would be a heavy weight to carry.

But if that's the case, then why replace her for ANOTHER 14yo girl, and one with sociopathic yandere demonic tendencies, on the top of that?!

Like, really, tell me why; this doesn't add up. This narrative option is gross, disrespectful and, on the top of it all, Homophobique(TM).

Resuming: Girls aren't sacrificial lambs, there are other ways to achieve your goals of happiness without the need of a sacrifice, and MadoMagi's ending makes absolutely no sense.

[ponyregrets]

CHASH I read the first witchfic and then I came home from the bar and there was ANOTHER. BEST HALLOWEEN EVRR thANK U

this is absolutely the correct way to experience those two fics and I’m glad it worked out like that A++

[maulslittlemeowmeow]

IM EXTREMELY HYYYPPEEEE MORE WITCHFIC

Also seeing another practitioner writing this sort of fic makes me really excited! I’m curious how your experiences will show in your writing! I’ve been exploring it with my Demon!Maul fic!

AND it’s Crosshair AND Maul? I’m going to be obsessed with this.

I offer my dearest readers a very brief teaser of my upcoming series, Night Personified

Which is, and drumroll please, a multichapter reader insert--that's right, not an OC this time! This series will be a reader insert!

I've been thinking of this for a long time and am very excited for it. This series is going to be an alternate universe and canon divergent and heavily inspired in Wicca and Witchcraft (for those of you who might not know, I am a practictioner myself) and will be very aesthetic in this sort.

I won't give that many more details except for the fact that this will be a love triangle between the reader, Crosshair, and Maul. ;) It's gonna be spicy!

Below the cut I am posting a snippet and tagging some moots who might be interested!

Your hands, raised up in the air, cupped around the silhouette of the waning crescent as you inhaled the cool air of the night. You remembered that night when Shaak Ti had taught you to ground yourself, one of the very first nights you’d spent at the coven.

How different things were back then.

Your chest continued to heave as you attempted to catch your breath from all your running; it was more difficult for you to focus than you wanted to admit. All the while you looked up at the beautiful crescent moon, comforting in all her beauty as if she could speak into you, your mind raced with thoughts of doom and torment if you were to have been followed. You hoped with all your might you hadn’t been.

You thought of the others. All the members of the coven displaced, forced to hide, one mere week away from Samhain. You feared for their safety, praying to the moon to protect them, and finally, your hands lowered when your breath steadied.

Sighing, you closed your eyes. Flashes of the persecution plagued your mind as your mind recalled the events against your will. You were quite confident your face wasn’t seen, not by anyone else, at least. In your head, you saw brown eyes as they took notice of you from afar before the chaos ensued. Those brown eyes that did not look merciful, yet you were sure they had spared you. Piercing, menacing gaze, yet you felt in your heart it was the reason you lived if only had it been a warning you should start running. In the deepest, most obscure corner of your heart, you hoped you could see the brown eyes again.

“You were not followed.”

Your eyes opened with a jolt as an alarmed gasp escaped you, your body nearly leaping off the ground. The voice that had torn you from your thoughts was deep, smooth, deceptively comforting in the middle of the forest–and you knew it was dangerous. You hoped, for a short moment, that when you saw the owner of such a beautiful voice, you would see those brown eyes you were longing for, but you were wrong.

The skin was not tan, but crimson. The tattoos were not only over one eye, but all over his body. And the eyes, they were not brown. They were yellow.

---

Tagging some mutuals who might be interested: @eloquentmoon @maulslittlemeowmeow @eyecandyeoz @sageislostinspring @kaminocasey @misogirl828 @kimageddon

[larryfanfiction]

Loyal Knight and True by rainbowninja167 @rainbowninja

Length: 51k

Harry Styles falls in love on a Tuesday afternoon, and it is everything he’d always imagined it would be. The man is perched on a low stone wall that divides the road from the river, his chin resting on his knees and his brown hair fluffing lightly in the wind. There’s a small notebook on the wall beside him, open to a page as though he’s only just put it down. A ray of sunshine hits his face, giving it a golden glow, and as Harry watches, the man closes his eyes, tips his face toward the sky, and smiles.

Oh, Harry thinks, mouth open on a silent gasp. This is how it happens.

In contemporary Oxford, Harry Styles and Niall Horan run a magical bookshop, unbowed by an entire academic establishment that insists magic doesn't even exist. Sometimes, Harry finds, it's much easier to have faith in magic than in himself. Louis Tomlinson is a classically trained poet who needs something to believe in, and Liam Payne longs to be a part of something magical.

But when the lines between reality and fiction - poetry and magic - start to blur, can they trust each other to keep track of what's true?

Ao3, Chaptered, Completed

[bewitchingbooktours]

Elizabeth, “Lizzie” Rose, high witch of the Wysteria Hedge Haven Clan, must enlist the assistance of her former lover, Kincaid McAllister, the famous Spirit Wulver, to save her coven from a banshee attack. https://ift.tt/3b4y3R6 #witch #witchfic #witchy #pnr — view on Instagram https://ift.tt/2VpI04L

[neeliepsrecs]

Abby

Pen names: Abby, rhosymedre47, rhosymedre, rhosymedreuk, MetroRhos

Accounts: LiveJournal (updated 2009), Fanfiction.net

Real name: Abby

Location: England, “in the deep south of the UK”.

Additional information: Abby was an esteemed classical writer of SSHG fanfiction. Together with Anne and Clare (who she collaborated with on several stories) she owned the website www.slytherinvamp.co.uk, which closed down when Clare removed her fanfiction from the internet. Abby then made the website www.potions-master.com together with Anne, and she was also featured on the exclusive HP fanfiction site www.witchfics.org. Both sites are unfortunately lost, and only viewable through historic data, such as through the Wayback Machine.

Recommended fanfiction: The Fire and the Rose

[thedeadflag]

Looking For the Magic (Pt 3)

Tentative title for Option B, the magical Witch Fic WIP one-shot I’ve been struggling to finish. I’ll be posting blocks of this  with the tags #lookingforthemagic and #witchfic, in case you don’t want a few thousand words muddying up your dash. I think mobile still doesn’t use the ‘read more’ function, so I figure this would be as good a workaround for folks.

Content Warning (for the story as a whole): transphobia, cissexism, physical assault, misogyny, sexual content

(Part 1) (Part 2)  Part 3 under the cut.

Clarke sat on the couch with her head in her hands. She'd long since lost track of time, only knowing it had been dark outside for a long while. It'd been too easy to get lost in thought, and while she generally tried not to let her masochistic streak take over, she felt it was well deserved given the circumstances.

Hell, if only just the past year. She'd nearly killed Anya at the last major gathering, and certainly took her out of commission for a week or two. She'd heard from Lexa about Anya's recovery from her poison. Anya had only fully got back to a hundred percent just recently. If it wasn't for the fact that her abilities were so rare and valued by the coven, she definitely would have been exiled for her actions against Anya.

Anya had been taken to trial over her womanhood of all damn things, and villainized by the coven over the resulting schism in the membership and council, and yet she poisoned Anya at a major gathering without consequence. The thought of her having held a vendetta against Anya due to a need for justice seemed absurd now, given Anya was the one deserving of it, from the coven and from her.

I poisoned her, I almost killed her. I did that to her...I did that, and I slept like a baby...what kind of monster am I? Clarke wondered, roughly wiping at her eyes with the joint of her thumb. What the hell have I become?

Clarke wasn't sure she wanted the answer to that question.

She'd rushed out of Anya's room hours ago to leave Anya to rest up, reaching the front door just as the other woman's muffled screams reached her ears. She'd made for the outdoors, but the front door wouldn't budge, neither would the windows, or the second bedroom. They were still trapped, and it was like she could smell the death and decay around her from all the ways she'd hurt and nearly killed Anya in the past ten months, all the ways she'd promoted the woman's post-vote social isolation as some sick, twisted form of payback for what she thought Anya had done. She'd been so caught up in vengeance and her grudge that she hadn't clued in that maybe all wasn't as it seemed.

And now there they were, both having paid someone else's price many times over, both trapped together still, and both in recovery, if differently.

She wouldn't cry, couldn't cry, not when Anya was suffering one room over. Not when she'd just been brutalizing a weakened, defenseless version of the woman not long ago. Her stomach was rumbling but she couldn't handle eating any more of the pizza Anya made. Just knowing she'd feasted on it, and left Anya heaped on the ground for hours, when the woman had probably been hungry to start with, it all made Clarke feel sick to her stomach.

She wasn't raised to be cruel. She needed to do better, be better. If Anya had faith that she could, then she had to at least try. 

"Anya must be so hungry and sore. I...I can help with both." Clarke muttered to herself as she got up from the couch and made her way to the kitchen. She turned the oven on and got to making a smoothie, figuring the woman could use as much food and nutrients as she could handle.

It wasn't long before she had a nice cool protein smoothie and a bit of reheated pizza in her arms. Her heart quivered in her chest at the knowledge of who was on the other side of the bedroom door, the evidence of what she'd done waiting on the bed, but she pushed past it. Anya deserved better.

Clarke opened the bedroom door and stilled in the doorframe, eyes poring over the scene carefully, not wanting to disrupt the woman if she was sleeping. That question was answered in a moment when Anya reached up a hand, wiped at her face, and carefully sat up against the headboard. "Do I smell food?"

She let out a sigh of relief at being able to put her plan in motion and quickly made her way to bed, hesitating for a moment before taking a seat beside her fellow prisoner. Anya looked to be in better shape, her healing draught seeming to have gotten to work as usual. It was how wet Anya's face was that worried her, knowing it was too cold, and Anya wouldn't be running a fever, so it couldn't be sweat.

"Absolutely. I'm so sorry for depriving you all this time. My head's been scrambled, but it's no excuse. You must be so hungry!" Clarke let out, earning a small nod as those warm brown eyes stared hungrily at the pizza.

She offered the plate out, and Anya quickly set it on her lap and picked up a gooey slice, lifting it to her nose. "Mmmmn, delicious." The woman practically purred before taking a bite of it.

Clarke found herself in the confusing and curious position of feeling blood rush to her cheeks, feeling more and more inconspicuously out of sorts with every delighted moan escaping the woman beside her.  If only I could make her that happy... She found herself musing before shutting that thought process down. It wasn't appropriate.

It was an odd sight, though, watching Anya devour three of her pizza bowl slices and then demolish a smoothie, but the look of contentment that spread on Anya's face upon finishing was more than enough to put a smile on Clarke's.

"So I was thinking, your stomach and ribs must still be sore, and while the healing draught's still working away, I don't want you uncomfortable. Should I put together a hot water bottle for you?" She asked, hoping she wasn't rambling or making a ridiculous suggestion.

Thankfully, Anya just gave a small nod, prompting Clarke to hop from the bed and rush out to the kitchen to boil some water. As she waited for the water to cool enough to be poured into the bottle, Clarke found herself thinking back to that night ten months ago.

She'd been so cold and scared, and had been especially mortified when she'd woken up in the middle of the night, but Anya held her. Anya walked her through it, and made sure everything was in order. Anya had comforted her for no reason other than she wanted Clarke to be comforted.

In retrospect, that wasn't the kind of person who could have struck out at her like that, but she'd been naive, easy to manipulate. She was older now, she knew better now. And she had a feeling that together, she and Anya would find who hurt them, who set them against each other, and would make them pay.

But for now, she wanted Anya to feel the way she had back then. So when she returned to the bedroom with the hot water bottle, she couldn't quite will herself to leave. And when Anya turned onto her side, away from Clarke, and slipped a hand under the pillow, she saw an opportunity.

"I can hold it against you, if you want. That way, you can get some rest." Clarke mused openly, watching the other woman for the slightest of movements that might declare her presence unwanted. The heavy sigh that escaped Anya almost had her slipping from the bed, but then Anya's  other hand took hold of the covers and pulled them up to her shoulders, holding them there, leaving the hot water bottle unattended.

A silent acceptance of her plan.

Clarke thought she'd feel relieved, but she only felt anxious as she slipped under the covers and gently reached her arms around Anya's waist, carefully holding the hot water bottle in place and hugging it against Anya's abdomen. In essence, she was mirroring Anya's position from all those months ago, but it wasn't until Anya scooted ever so slightly backwards into her body that she felt any serenity about it.

Almost a year. Ten lost months where they could have been this close the whole time. Ten months of lost friendship, of suffering, of so many missed opportunities and experiences.

Clarke closed her eyes and pressed her face into the back of Anya's neck, her arms holding the woman a little more snugly. She had a lot to make up for, but for the moment, she felt she was right where she needed to be.

Everything felt hazy and weightless as she regained consciousness after her lengthy second bout of sleep. Honestly, she was almost entirely pain-free, her shoulder feeling fine instead of the fractured mess Clarke had made of it not a day ago.

The sun was setting, meaning it was getting close to twenty four hours since they'd arrived.  It'd been a long ass day, but at least there was a silver lining. And that was wrapped around her waist and a long cooled off hot water bottle.

It was a bit of a one-way situation, if she were honest with herself. She knew the disgust Clarke felt for her. It was the one thing keeping her from tossing the hot water bottle out of the way and bringing those soft hands to her waist where a guilty part of her might want them, knowing Clarke introduced that barrier for a specific reason.

She couldn't afford to be selfish when she still had yet to salvage a working relationship with the other woman. After all, they'd have to work together to weed out those who had set them against each other. That meant some level of amicability between them, which despite all the miscommunication, pain, and grave errors in understanding they'd made, Anya was sure could be an obstacle.

Again, Clarke made no secret in the past how her mere presence would ruin the other blonde's day. Anya had witnessed plenty of times the pure disgust flashing across Clarke's face upon seeing her, before the woman could school her features. Anya would accept the minimal comfort Clarke offered and would leave it at that.

But goddess, if she didn't want to just be wrapped up. With all that she'd learned, all the hardships she'd endured, and perhaps aided by her rather simple personal code of morals and ethics, tentative forgiveness had dropped away much of the deep seated feelings of pain and loss. It left her feeling like she had earlier that year in February, yearning for Clarke to smile at her, and yearning to be close to her. They couldn't turn back the clock, but she could try to get back to something close to where they'd been back then.

Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was twisted given their history and Clarke's violence, but Clarke apologized and showed real remorse. Clarke had been manipulated into being wielded against her. Clarke understood what she did was wrong and wanted to be better. That had resulted in the woman doing what she could to comfort and heal Anya to the best of her abilities, and that was a good first step. That had to count for something with how they both needed to move on from that painful chapter of their lives. And while it was unrealistic to expect things to ramp up to something unexpected, Anya couldn't help how she felt, how her memories of her early-mid teen years kept being drawn to the surface now that she didn’t have the spectre of Clarke’s hostility hanging over her anymore.

It was embarrassing. She was a warrior in their coven. She was the sword the council wielded when they wanted something to burn or bleed, but all she wanted in that moment was for Clarke to hold her close and tell her she'd never be hurt again, that it'd all be okay.

It was absurd, but it was what it was. Anya could deny a lot in life, but she knew her heart, and she knew it well. No point pretending she didn't still feel something for Clarke underneath it all.

Didn't change that she couldn't do anything about it, and that she had the willpower to keep to that resolution. At least barring any unforeseen changes.

Though, when Clarke let out a sleepy, annoyed grunt and pushed the water bottle away, Anya might have been frustrated that her will was being tested so soon. And when Clarke's arms settled all cozy and snug against her waist, all she could do was decide that she'd remain very still and quiet, and let Clarke figure out what to do when she woke.

And, well, Clarke deserved a good bit of rest after everything, too. Mental and emotional trauma needed recuperation as well as anything else.

It was maybe forty-five minutes later when Clarke let out a sleepy groan, which combined with the way the other blonde was nuzzling the back of her neck had her thinking she was waking up. Clarke only needed a few extra seconds to confirm it herself.

"Mmmghhn, what time is it?" Clarke mumbled as arms tightened around Anya's waist, nose trailing a brief path down to the crook of her neck.

"Doesn't matter. Go back to sleep if you're tired." She answered quietly, knowing she could stay where she was indefinitely, even if she could probably make good use of the bathroom.

Clarke's arms detached from her immediately, and the warmth of Clarke's body was gone in half a second, the other blonde scurrying away to the other side of the bed in a panic. Well, I guess that confirms she's still disgusted with me...

"You're not in pain, are you?" Clarke asked, thankfully bringing up a topic she could easily go on about if needed.

"Only slight aches now. Whatever that potion was, it's done wonders." Anya relayed, pulling the covers up over her body from where they'd fallen away. It was winter and, wards or not, the cottage was chilly. She didn't exactly have magic to keep her warm.

"That...that's good. Very good. Are you hungry?" Clarke asked, seeming abnormally scattered. She didn't have to put much thought into it, though, since the sound of Clarke's stomach rumbling was sign enough that one of them was.

"Not really, but you are." She said as she reluctantly got out of bed. "I'll wash up then make something to eat."

Clarke let out a loud huff. "You should be resting!"

"And you should be sleeping still, but I guess it's not in the cards, either." Anya called over her shoulder. By the time she finished in the washroom, Clarke still hadn't left the bedroom, which gave her plenty of space to figure out something to eat.

While she hadn't been Clarke's friend these past years, she did end up getting to know a number of things about the woman through Lexa and the time they were forced to spend near each other at events. Clarke had a deep love for gumbo, the spicier the better, but Anya didn't have the time or ingredients to make it, as she checked around. There was enough for her to make pizza about seven or eight times over, but not so much with gumbo.

But she did know Clarke was a fan of chicken and spicy things, so she went about collecting ingredients for an old southwest wrap recipe she used to make when she had a busier schedule and less time to cook. She wasn't big on spicy stuff after just waking up, so maybe she used an extra pan for her own recipe, but it was worth it.

"What smells heavenly?" She heard from the direction of the bathroom just around when she was finishing up with the wraps, filling Clarke's with some extra chicken before folding the ends.

"Food's up. Chicken wraps." Anya answered, plating both of theirs before taking hers to the living room couch. Mostly because there was a cozy blanket there, and a fireplace nearby if she chose to use it.

She was just getting comfortable under the large blanket when a freshly showered Clarke rounded the couch, plate in hand, and scooted in beside her. Sure, the blanket was large enough to cover the both of them, but Anya could hardly keep from pressing against the armrest, wanting to ensure Clarke had all the space she needed.

Anya could feel Clarke's eyes on her as they ate in silence, leaving her completely unsure what was coming next. She'd slept, gone to the washroom, and will have eaten. Nothing to excuse her from Clarke's presence that would likely come across as polite.

"Are you scared of me?" Anya found herself choking on her wrap once she processed Clarke's words, needing a moment to steady herself and take a drink of water before she could even consider a reply.

"No." It was the truth, though after a quick glance, she could tell Clarke wasn't so convinced.

"Then why did you move away from me? And you couldn't get out of the bedroom fast enough, and when I came into the kitchen to get food, you practically rushed to the couch. Like, I'd get it if you are, obviously, and it wouldn't be my place to tell you not to be." Clarke detailed, and okay, perhaps that interpretation made a bit more sense, but it wasn't fear driving it. Just a sense of self-preservation and not wanting to have any more of her ego destroyed.

"I'm not scared. I trust you when you say you won't willingly hurt me. I'm merely giving you your space, Clarke. You've made no secret in the past about not wanting to be near me." She explained at length, hoping to just finish the subject and move on to something else or maybe even a comfortable silence.

"But that was when I thought you nearly ruined my life, and were out to get me." Clarke noted, not really addressing the point at hand.

"Regardless, it still leaves all of that clear...disgust...you have for me. Just because I didn't do what you thought I did doesn't erase that gut instinct. I understood why you used the hot water bottle as a barrier, Clarke. I understood, and I appreciated what you did for me, but you don't have to pretend. I'd honestly prefer you don't." Anya rambled as she curled up further into the corner of the couch, wishing she could light a flame from a distance and get a fire going. There was rarely anything better than a warm fire on a cold night.

After a second or two of silence, she dared a glance back at Clarke, catching the other woman gaping at her, appearing entirely astonished for whatever reason. After all, it wasn't as if Clarke kept her emotions hidden.

She'd just turned away when she felt Clarke's hand lightly grasp her shoulder. Anya kept her gaze forward. "Anya, I've...goddess, I've never been disgusted by you. Take your pick from hate, loathe, whatever, but...not that."

"I know what I've seen, Clarke. You don't have to pretend we're working with clean slates in every area when we're not." Anya pushed, needing to have this topic of discussion done and over with. With the way her heart was thudding in her chest from just having Clarke's hand resting against her, she needed to avoid getting any hopes up.

"No, you don't...urgh!" Clarke blurted out, following her attempt at a denial with a long, drawn out groan. "Look, it's really embarrassing, but yeah, I was disgusted. With myself."

Anya's head swiveled unbidden to face the other woman, more out of confusion than anything else. "How does that make any sense?"

"I'd see you, and sometimes it wouldn't register that it was you initially, but then I'd recognize you, and I'd just...I'd disgust myself with how I reacted to seeing you. It wasn't right reacting to my enemy like that, someone who I thought hurt me so much. I figured I shouldn't have felt what I did, but I did, and I hated that. It disgusted me that as much as I hated you, it could never kill the part of me that thought you were..." Clarke rambled, voice trailing off as she stared at her hands, shaking them in the air and biting her lip in clear frustration for whatever word she couldn't seem to speak.

Still, Clarke had opened the door, broken the dam, whatever. She needed to know. "Thought I was what?"

Clarke's blue eyes flitted her way, a defeated sigh escaping her as her cheeks bloomed red. "Ithoughtyouweregorgeous." The woman spoke quickly and quietly, syllables mashed together in a near incomprehensible mess of sound.

It took a few seconds for Anya to make sense of it, but when it clicked, she was fairly certain her cheeks were equally as flushed. "Oh." She added, needing to give some response despite her confusion, seeing Clarke's nerves escalate visibly.

Honestly, it was hard to fathom that all that time, Clarke had been disgusted at feeling attraction towards her. It potentially made a small amount of sense, even if it took some mental gymnastics, but her shy eyes and anxious posture had Anya thinking Clarke was about a second away from imploding from a deadly mix of mortification and rejection, so she couldn't deny it might be the truth.

And honestly, with the truth thrown her way, especially given Clarke didn't have to disclose it, Anya felt a need to balance the scales. "I had the biggest crush on you, growing up." She continued, immediately feeling the intense heat of Clarke's gaze on her as she kept her focus on the fireplace. Anya wasn't sure she could speak the words face to face, but she could at least air them out. "Goddess, I tried to convince myself back then that it was a small thing, but my eyes would always look for you at the events for initiates. And when I was back home...I was a shit drawer, but when I'd sketch, I'd almost always end up doing your eyes. Never felt anyone really saw me, and I guess I just liked imagining...yeah."

Anya shook her head at the memories, at the sheer amount of paper she'd covered, crumpled up, and tossed out in her teens. She'd been the most embarrassing kid.

"Was...was that why you had me share your blankets that night?" Clarke asked hesitantly, the hand returning to Anya's shoulder and giving it a slight rub. It was nice.

"Of course not. You were freezing, you needed to be warm. Besides, I remember thinking you were dating someone back then, so my focus was just on keeping you warm, and maybe if I was lucky, we could end the weekend as friends. And then it turned into just wanting you to know I had your back, that you could trust me, that you were safe." Anya explained, putting to words her generally simple evolving plans that night, in case Clarke had any misunderstanding over her reasons. Sure, helping the pretty girl and maybe having a future shot at a relationship if everything went right and Clarke turned out not to be straight was something she'd considered back then, but she had known full well it was a pipe dream.

Anya was far more practical than that.

Clarke moved off the couch, gathering both of their plates and setting them on the coffee table before heading to the fireplace. Anya watched at the other blonde struggled a bit with the equipment stocked there, unable to hold back a smile at Clarke's unfamiliarity, but there was a fire going after a minute or two. Perhaps it was unsurprising that Clarke was thinking much the same thing as she had, given the temperature, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

It was Clarke slipping under the blanket and cuddling up beside her that had Anya feeling a little faint. "I guess it's my turn to return the favor and keep you warm, then." Clarke whispered as soft arms wrapped around Anya's nearest.

Anya wasn't sure what Clarke's angle was, and that was dangerous, but she couldn't bring herself to care when Clarke was warm, and soft, and smelled kind of wonderful.

"Sounds fair to me."

Clarke was a little proud of herself.

Between waking up clinging to Anya's wounded body, learning Anya thought she was disgusted of her, and learning Anya once had a deep crush on her, Clarke could say she'd been reeling for most of the past hour or so.

And yet, she hadn't lost it. Neither had she ran, or fucked up. Instead, she'd pushed forward, clarified problems, and worked to resolve them. In short, when it came to the prospects of leaving the cottage happy and with a new connection, there was hope for her yet.

The fact that Anya was much more relaxed was also riveting. It'd been ten months since she'd seen the woman with anything remotely resembling happiness or peacefulness across her face, and it was a damn beautiful sight. Not one she deserved, but one she would try to maintain for as long as possible.

"So, maybe you'll have to show me some of your sketches some day, see how they match up to the real thing." Clarke mused, breaking a comfortable silence in hopes of some stimulating dialogue.

The sound that escaped Anya was magical. Not since her childhood had she heard Anya laugh, and it sounded like the heavens opening up, but it was the gleeful, surprised smile that had Clarke utterly mesmerized. Maybe her crush had been deeper than she thought as well, because in that moment, all she wanted to do was keep Anya smiling as often as possible, for as long as possible, with some more laughter if she was lucky.

"Clarke, I told you, I'm shit at drawing. Nowhere near as talented as you on that front. Now, sculptures...that's different, but I was always terrible at sketching, even if I loved trying to replicate the blue of your eyes with my shitty pencil crayons. I was such a dork." Anya said, that smile dimming a little as she bit her lip and cast her gaze at the fire.

It was official: nervous Anya was endearing. It didn't hurt that the woman complimented her, either. It wasn't often anyone praised her art.

"More like adorkable. But I'd really like to see some of your scuptures if you'll let me. I'm sure they're great." Clarke probed, hoping for some affirmation, wanting a sign that maybe she and Anya were on the same page. Besides, Anya wielded the full power of the elements; she could only imagine the kind of nuanced control that could give a sculptor.

Anya let out another melodic laugh, and Clarke had to keep from sagging against her over the sweetness of the sound. "I think we could work out a time for you to come by." Anya added with a smile that was endearingly shy, and god, where was this woman all these years? "If we ever get out of this place, that is."

"Bathroom window was still warded. Guess there's still some condition for us to work through." Clarke noted with a roll of her eyes.

"Goddess, whatever Lexa and Costia concocted, I'm thankful, but they're gonna have some explaining to do when we get out of here." Anya agreed with a slow nod.

Anya's words stilled the thoughts in Clarke's mind, all of her brainpower focusing on a certain t-word. "What?! You're thankful? Even after everything?"

Anya turned her head and shot her the kind of smile you give when someone just asked a stupid question. The low, amused laugh made her inquiry even more worth it. "Especially after everything. I lost ten months of my life, Clarke, on top of so much more. I don't want to waste another second."

Clarke was sure her heart stopped for how silent everything went. Her mind was racing, working furiously determine if that was a sign, if it was an in, if it was a green light for her to test out something she'd been thinking about, to take the opportunity put out before her.

It was when her vision focused enough to see that same soft, warm expression on Anya's face as that night in the hotel that Clarke knew what she had to do.

Clarke flung herself onto Anya, hands lifting to cradle Anya's face as she pressed their lips together. For a split second, Clarke felt a debilitating spike of fear with Anya remaining still against her own. Then the heavens opened up alongside those supple lips, Anya grabbing at Clarke's top and pulling her down against her fellow witch's gloriously limber body.

In all her life she couldn't have imagined Anya would be so receptive. It was like playing a really arousing game of call and response; everything Clarke did, every kiss, every time she nibbled at the woman's lower lip, each time she rocked into her, each time she stroked her cheek, Anya would respond in kind with something of her own. Clarke knew what she was good at, and she wanted to give Anya the best she could offer, but Anya was clearly just as busy trying to learn what Clarke liked.

Her heart melted that much more, adoring that dedication.

And when her hips rocked into Anya, bringing an airy gasp from the woman beneath her, maybe Clarke decided to shift her focus on filling the room with more of those sounds. Anya only made it easier, head shifting to nuzzle Clarke's temple, lips a breath away from her ear, close enough to hear every gasp, hitched breath, moan, and whimper she could elicit. That combined with Anya running hands through her hair, nails down her back, palming at her ass, legs writhing against her own, body trembling and arching into Clarke's?

All she wanted was more, more, more of the intoxicating woman beneath her, and Anya was eager to give.

So when one of Anya's hands put a little space between them, Clarke wasn't discouraged, knowing whatever it was, it was important.

"I have some things I need...in my luggage...and I need a quick shower, and...and then can we take this to the bed where it's comfier?" Anya asked as she caught her breath. Honestly, the question was a bit out of the blue, but Clarke was all too happy to help out, even if it might mean waiting a few minutes.

"Sure thing, babe. Anything you need me to do?" Clarke asked, leaning back and letting Anya amble out from underneath her, head shaking lightly.

She took a moment to catch her breath and stared after Anya as the woman grabbed a set of luggage by the wall and hauled it into the bathroom. Honestly, it all felt fast, switching gears like they were, but the fact was that she spent about a full year with Anya as her sworn enemy and a primary focus for her attention. She probably knew Anya almost as well as Anya knew herself, and vice versa. 

They'd shared an intense connection since that night; perhaps it wasn't such a massive switch going from enemies to intimate. And finally being able to act on the physical attraction she'd harbored for years, on top of the emotional attraction to Anya and her softer side? Even if Clarke wasn't sure that part of the woman wouldn't disappear in a flash, never to be seen again?

She wasn't letting go of this, at least not easily.

Clarke made her way to the bedroom and hoped that Lexa still kept her stash where she remembered it.