#Even the books have her doing witchcraft

[latter-gay-witchery]

Me last week-two weeks ago, establishing what I want and don’t want to do with my craft: No divination, I’m not messing with that.

Me since at least last week: But if I’m using it as a medium by which to help me receive and interpret personal revelation...

#witchblr #christian witch #christian witchcraft #mormon witch #baby witch #I think listening to an episode of Hex Positive where Bree had on her friend Jenn (?) as a guest and they mentioned doing Clow Card readings #sparked that curiosity #'cause I have a Clow deck with a book to hold them and everything that my dad got me way back when I was a little one #so like having that deck for 20 years min I think there would be a bond there even if subconscious right? #and it seems an easier starting point than full on tarot - plus I'm still a tad nervous abt tarot though I know there's little reason to be? #(I also don't want to make wifey uncomfortable if she finds tarot suspect/powered by dark forces which I admit I was taught much the same) #(still unlearning some of that stuff) #crap I thought I had more thoughts about this but my mind is drawing a blank #maybe that's a 'stupor of thought' and I was supposed to forget those thoughts #*shrug* #I dunno tbh #witchy ramblings #fellow christian witches/mormon witches especially: any thoughts/input? do you do divination and by what means/howmst do you reconcile it?

[dark-lord-tom-returns]

So I'm reading Witches Abroad and the first time we see Granny use magic is in Desiderata's cottage. Desiderata (deceased) was a big proponent of everyday magic. She was also quite blind. So when Granny and Nanny check on her cottage and definitely are not looking for her wand, there are no matches for the fireplace.

Granny doesn't like everyday magic. She says so. She even tells Nanny that if they found the wand she wouldn't use it, emphatically. She doesn't like the habit. But she's annoyed and wants her tea and needs a fire for that. So she uses magic.

But then she sees the mirror. And the face looking back isn't hers but Lilith's. Heres a quote about Granny:

"Very few people in the world had more self-control than Granny Weatherwax. It was as rigid as a bar of cast iron. And about as flexible."

And she smashes the mirror immediately and without hesitation.

Now we don't know who Lilith is to Granny at this point but upon reread this is a particularly interesting passage. By the end of the book we know Lilith is "the bad witch" and because she is Granny "had to be the good one".

Granny hates the fact she has to be the good one. She knows that if she was the bad one she'd be the most terrifying witch the Disc has ever seen. But she has to be the good one. That's her responsibility since Lilith turned out bad. She has to be good and she has to be responsible, especially since she has the power to be so evil and do so much damage if she ever lost control.

And I think that's why Granny smashes the mirror right then. She was annoyed at the lack of matches, she wanted tea, she used magic to get it. And that's not responsible witchcraft in her mind. So when she find Lilith looking at her through the mirror, she sees the person that forced her to have that self control. That made Granny Weatherwax a good witch when she wanted to be the bad one. And that hurt her.

This is also interesting when you consider Sam Vimes relationship with alcohol. Vimes used alcohol as a way to deal with a feeling of helplessness and lack of control. That addiction numbed the emotional pain and he had to be so careful in later books not to fall back into that habit.

Granny is the opposite. Her power is, maybe not addictive, but something she takes immense pride in. She wants to use it, she became the most powerful witch (not the most talented, that's Nanny) through hard work and dedication. But she can't use it because that wouldn't be responsible. Because everytime she uses it, it becomes a little easier to justify using a little more until she's using it for everything. Or anything. And she can't because she has to be the good one.

How much self control must that take? Granny spent her entire life becoming the best at what she does. Decades of mastering her craft and when she reaches the top she had to essentially stop. To put it aside and only use it in the most responsible way possible because if she slips, it's a long long way to the bottom.

Cast iron indeed.

#discworld #granny weatherwax #nanny ogg

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 — 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄

SYNOPSIS: 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 characters and their yandere tendencies. PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 (!aged up to be a legal adult!) x reader [romantic]; 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 x reader [romantic]; 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 x reader [romantic]; 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 x reader [romantic]; 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐬 x reader [platonic]; readers gender isn't impiled/mentioned/specified Tw. delusion, delulu is the solulu, obsessive thoughts/behavior, possessive thoughts/behavior, witchcraft/dark magic, mention of love making, manipulations, controlling behavior, tyranny (?), concent? what is it?, stalking, worshiping, creepy behavior, creepy people, hunting, mention of m*rder, punishments, yeah… A/N: I hold Snow White close to my heart. However, as much as I adore the animated version, I find the book more interesting. So this is based on German fairy tale or folk tale, [Snow White] written by the Brothers Grimm (Jacob Ludwig Karl Grimm and Wilhelm Karl Grimm). Snow White is AGED UP!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 who thinks of you as her first, last and only love. She, just like most women her age, believes in soulmates. It's just so...romantic.

It happens that in her opinion, you're the one. Since the moment she lays her doe like eyes on you, she just knows that your souls are tied and destined to be one.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 fantasies about you. A lot. At first, those are innocent fantasies. Scenarios about you running around each other, playfully starting your courtship. Then your feelings shall grow deeper, the roots growing deep into your heart and so your courtship becomes more prominent and serious. Those playful touches become more affectionate. Holding a deeper meaning and reaching down into your essence of being. Then, you'll propose to her, in the most dreamy way one can imagine. Fret not, she'll (shout) say yes. Wedding preparations will follow soon after, then a grand, royal wedding itself and finally, you'll spend your first night together. Ah yes, the moment your bond will materialize in the form of a night full of passionate love making. The spiral goes on deep and each time 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 starts the imaginary movie roll over, her daydreams take a darker turn. 

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 becomes very needy for your attention. She's just so touch starved to be noticed by her object of affection that she's just about to do something to make you see her as your potential wife. She'll dress up for you, looking like a princess that she is, otherwordly beautiful and charming; make sure to sing when she knows you're near acting like a siren who is ready to catch you in her net of love; showing off her many talents especially those she knows will catch your attention and let her start a conversation with you. And every time you do talk, it's like the whole world disappears, leaving only you. You find it a little concerning with how much 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 sighs and flutters her long eyelashes. Sometimes you wonder if she even pays attention to what your saying (or worse, that you bore her), since she seems to be stuck in her head. And her eyes seemed to have that strange glint that appears only when she looks at you…

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 starts being interested in witchcraft. It is an unexpected turn but I feel like she searched for something deeper. Knowing that your soulmates (it's her opinion) just isn't enough. She must be sure. A way to truly bind you together. So…uh…like mother, like (step) daughter?

Don't get me started on what she writes in her diaries…

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 who commands you to be her lover. Simple as that. She doesn't wait, nor ask for your opinion in that matter. After the (not so) mysterious disappearance of her husband – the King and Snow's White father – she'll have absolute power in the Queendom. And since she's the Queen and the most entitled person around, you'll have to comply with her wishes. Otherwise, she won't hesitate to force you to via poisons and dark magic.

She'll force feed you all sorts of aphrodisiacs, make voodoo dolls either of you or someone from your surroundings and in the end reduce you to being her puppet. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 doesn't need you to think. Just look pretty (but not as her) and submit to her entirely. Be her best and most treasured accessory, hm?

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 often uses a spying mirror to stalk you. Whenever she's not busy leading the Queendom or simply desires to see you, she'll sit in her lavish chambers and command her mirror to show you. She knows it can only tell her the truth and only the truth, so additionally she'll ask all sorts of questions about you. Are you loyal to her? Do you have a family she shuld take care of? Do you have feelings for someone? If she finds out that you do have and it's not for her, the very next day a public execution is made for your crush. 

You're not safe from her wrath and mood swings either. Like mentioned before, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 isn't afraid to punish those who are against her in any way. She won't kill you but your punishments will be severe. Whipping and isolation are her way to go. Scars shall be your reminder to not cross her and loneliness borderlining to madness will thrust you right in her arms. Just like she didn't hesitate to assassinate Snow White, she'll make sure you understand your place and take your role as her lover seriously. 

She's all you need now and in the future. Your family, close friends and anyone you had connection with were taken care of. You're her loyal subject, made to worship her and serve her by giving her your never ending supply of love and affection.

She'll make you see that.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 who is your devoted worshiper. He sees you as some sort of higher being, who graced this dirty Earth with your pure presence. Who has graced him and his hard life with a drop of your soothing presence. The moment you showed him some kindness, even unintentionally, he's ready to carve his heart out of his chest and be at your every beck and call.

Although he is no knight by no means, definitely lacking those virtues, he's skilled within his field of work. It means that whoever dares to bother you (even if they don't) or worse, taint you (start courting you) is automatically a threat he needs to eliminate. Just like 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 does to his prey, he'll haunt them deep in the great forest by shooting arrows at their running form. But unlike his usual ethics to make it as painless as possible to the animals, he’ll deliberately make sure to make this person suffer as much as possible. He's ruthless. 

Don't be surprised when you'll find some ‘gifts’ from him. He's a man of a few words, not a drop of romance and hardened by life. Plus his yandere tendencies. So 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 gifts tend to be…disturbing. More often than not, you'll find already prepared quarries of his. You get furs, meat and even polished antlers/horns to hand in your chambers. 

Of course, he'll remain anonymous through this whole time, because he doesn't feel worthy enough to officially make contact with you. 

In the dark of the night, when he lays in his cot, he'll pray to you. That you'll allow him, a sinner, to be by your side. He doesn't dare (but secretly wishes) to be your lover, perhaps even your...husband? Whatever you'll pick, he'll agree on anything. He's that desperate for you.

One day…one day he'll overcome his insecurities and will speak to you…

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 who is a lovesick puppy, ready to marry you right then and there when his eyes fell on you for the first time. He's hopeless, really. 

He's always there when you're out of the castle. Lurking just around the corner, ready to start luring you into coming with him. At first, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 offers are subtle but slowly and surely, they become bold. From promises to give you safety, stable life to making you his Queen and offering to conquer the Queendom as a wedding gift from him to you. He doesn't understand why you wouldn't want to come with him. He's the crown prince, only heir to a prosperous kingdom and a future king, ready to shower you in gold, gifts and power before you could even think of it.

He's a gifted singer and poet. He'll use that to his advantage to catch your attention, especially when you're in the castle where 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 obviously can't go. If it's possible, he'll stop his horse just under your window, hop down and that's when the performance starts. He'll sing ballads about your beauty, recites all sorts of poetry also related to love, sometimes even pray for you to come and grace him with your presence. His words are easily pouring out of his mouth in abundance. They're all about how he deeply feels towards you or about you. And he sincerely hopes they'll trap your heart.

In the dark of the night, he'll look at the portrait of you he had commissioned shortly after meeting you. Of course it didn't do your justice at all but it was just to pass the time until he'll have the real you by his side. He'll sigh dreamily at the canvas, whispering words of pure adoration for you.

His patience is running thin and the wedding day is nearing so fast...!

✿ BONUS ✿

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐬 [platonic] who are fiercely overprotective of you. They are greedy and dangerous beings by nature. They’ve killed before and they have no problem doing that again. Especially when some pathetic excuse of a pests seemed to be lurking around their hut, where they were keeping you locked in. There are seven of them, ripped with muscles because of a daily work in the mines and without any remorse in them. The opponent stands no chance. 

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #male yandere x reader #fanfic #x reader #imagines #yandere #headcanons #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere simulator #yandere male #tw yandere #male yandere #reader insert #headcanon #yandere headcanons #male x reader #soft yandere #yandere househusband #x female reader #x male reader #x gn reader #x y/n #drabble #yandere scenarios #yandere drabble #yandere snow white x reader #yandere evil queen x reader #yandere huntsman x reader

[nouvxllev]

CLINGYGRUMPYJENNA X READER!!

plsplsplsplspls

Summary: Co-workers in public, lovers in private 🙌🏼, while shooting for Wednesday, J gets really stressed, and craves for R's intimacy, but can't have that yet until break of dawn, so J basically gets sooo annoyed with anyone who tries talking to her that isn't R.

the waiting game

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: fluf, grumpy & clingy jenna!

a/n: caught basically the nastiest cold for a whole week, but im back! sorry requests taking too long, tryna to balance everything rn but it all will be done soon!!!!

masterlist.

Jenna hasn’t seen you in almost 4 hours, 36 minutes, and 4 fucking seconds. 

Yes, she counted, yes, it’s still ongoing, and, yes, she could almost murder someone with her bare hands if time even dares to pass by without you.

What makes matters worse is that she's terribly sleep-deprived even with someone's arms wrapped around her night after night.

Of course, the aforementioned someone swirling in her head 24/7 is you. Her not-quite-lover in public but entirely her beloved behind closed doors.

If Jenna had it her way, she would’ve jumped off a building by now and hard-launched the both of you by herself just so she could get hugs, kisses, and your hand intertwined with hers all she wanted.

Obviously, the universe decides to be a stuck-up bitch just now in their 14 billion years of life, wanting nothing more than to see Jenna Marie Ortega suffer without having you.

But it's fine.

She could get through this.

If there's someone in the world that could handle a single day without your warm hugs and lovely kisses, whether it be on the cheek or the lips, it would be her. She didn't endure almost half a year seeing that godforsaken Wednesday dance to go completely insane without you.

— Is what she kept telling herself 30 seconds earlier before she broke down and almost turned to witchcraft if you don't appear in front of right her.

She could push through with it, like she always does. It's a simple routine that never got the best of her.

Wake up and have breakfast with the love of your life while prepping each other with kisses and whatnot, run to set for the both of you to act out a scene for a while, when break hits all Jenna has to do is intertwine her pinky with yours under the table, then do hair and makeup after, act out a scene then wrap it all up, lie to everyone for the 100th time that her house is just a few steps away from yours, hit a bakery on the way home or maybe an ice cream shop if Jenna feels peckish, break down the apartment door Jenna shares with you, run to the bedroom, and smother each other with kisses and cuddles. Maybe a makeout session if Jenna's lucky.

It's bliss then repeat.

But today just so happens to be the day that Jenna takes over the whole episode, doing stunts and everything with little to no cuts for side characters.

She'd think that you would have nothing to do than act out your scenes—with her—might she add and it'll be all fine and the nights she'd spent waking up at 3 in the morning would be all's well.

But no, unfortunately you were the epitome of the perfect person and everyone just has to drag you around to who knows where to deal with some difficulties.

Plus, the both of you woke up late so she didn't even get the full girlfriend treatment she always got in the morning.

It was completely unfair!

Jenna was tired, grumpy, a bit too snappy, desperate for your attention, and she misses you. Alot.

And by that she means she misses the way you would wrap your arms around her after a busy day of filming together, pull her close, and feel the way how her lips fits perfectly on yours.

She would've dragged you back to bed and cuddle with you if she knew what was about to happen. Every second not spent with you is absolutely meaningless in her book.

Unfortunately, she has to play the waiting game.

She's fucking losing it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was 11 PM on a Thursday night.

Jenna is really so fucking tired, she could almost snap.

She had almost endured five to six hours of you nowhere even near her. The most she even interacted with you on set was when the both of you were acting a scene then abruptly got cut because of technical difficulties.

Plus, everyone but you was talking to her as if she was some kind of star! (she is.)

Jenna almost wished for an accident, or maybe a wardrobe malfunction that leads her to discovering some sort of new allergy about herself, just so she could be rushed off to the hospital and have you fussing over her, then maybe you could hold her hand and kiss her as if she would heal.

"How's it going, Ree—"

"Literally, I mean this in the nicest way possible, shut the fuck up Georgie."

He doesn't respond immediately, his eyes wide open as he steps back in surrender with his hands up in the air. "Ooooohkay!"

The brunette's head shot up immediately, her eyes burning and her shoulders slumped as she sank further into her chair for what felt like the millionth time.

"I... I didn't mean that, I'm so sorry." She closed her eyes shut, rubbing her temples, "I'm doing fine." She reassured herself more than anyone else, gripping the armchair for support.

"Biggest lie ever."

"You caught in Jenna's crossfire too, Emma?

"Oh damn, even Moosa?"

As if on cue, the whole cast decides to join in the damn conversation. Jenna loved them all, really, but it would've been so much better if a certain someone also joined and not far off into the distance talking to one of the editors.

Come on, would it literally kill you to question yourself why half of the cast was surrounding practically the love of your life while you're standing like 10 feet away!?

"You seem tense, J."

"Something wrong?"

"You've been staring at us for an hour with that Kubrick Stare of yours."

Who's exactly talking to her? Georgie, Emma, Moosa, it's all in that order but their voices seemed deranged, and it couldn't be any more worse when she's been trying to catch your eye for what seemed like the past hour.

She couldn't take shit when she's horribly missing you. So, she bites, and raises her voice more than she should, "Should I close my eyes to spare you the terrible fucking horror? Fuck, man!"

Jenna let an exasperated sigh escape from her mouth as she rose to her feet, eyeing the group with probably the most intense stare someone could bear witness to. She half-expected she'd get another pain-in-the-ass comeback from atleast one of them, but she was met with unusual silence.

The three look practically horrified, as if they were seeing the fictional idea of Wednesday Addams in the form of a 5'1, 22 year old woman dressed as her. Like they have the small but terrible quote running gears in their heads.

She heard them in unison muttering quiet apologies, "Sorry, Jenna…"

Her mind told her to forgive them for whatever they did, but her heart told her y/n.

"No, no it's fine." The brunette shook her head, her words forming icicles on each synonym and her eyes were like seeing inside of a storm. Without the peaceful atmosphere of an eye, clearly. "I'm just... stressed. Is Y/n free?"

Emma tilted her head to the side, "Actually, I never really saw them that much today, no?" She exchanged glances with the both of them.

"Heard they're busy with the tech team," Georgie crossed his arms, "Even for an actor, they've got a skill to be a director with how familiar they are behind the scenes."

Moosa nodded in agreement, "Yeah, they've been pretty tied up with all the technical stuff lately. Must be exhausting."

For fuck sakes, why did you have to be the most perfect and talented goddamn person?

"Why you looking for them?"

Jenna definitely did not need another goddamn voice entering her goddamn space.

She could almost roll her eyes and flip everybody off if not for Joy and the others being the most precious co-stars of them all.

"Because!" Jenna exclaimed, her voice cracking while lifting her arms in the air, "Y/n's my fucking lov...-"

Oh, shit.

"Lov...?"

"...Lovely neighbor." She blinked. "They... They bake me some cookies whenever I get in a bad mood."

Oh to fucking hell with this lovers in private bullshit. Lovely neighbor, that was the best damn excuse she could come up with?

"Well, heard they went home early because of an emergency, but it's kinda pouring out—"

It was in Jenna and Jenna alone on how insanely and horrifyingly fast she bolted out of the conversation, quickly changed clothes, thanking to the literal heavens (fuck the universe, Jenna will die on this hill) that Tim wrapped up early.

Josh. Josh was always the one you manage to bring up to be one of the most carefree guys in set, it's certain that he knew wherever the fuck you went. Actually, you always looked so happy whenever you talked to her about Josh and how much he lends with whatever left over set pieces they had, it's almost insane that you were—

"Aliyah, I'd tell you to shut up and fuck off as of this moment but I am literally too tired to even say that, what!?"

"Jenna, where the hell is your hoodie you wore on Christmas Eve!? I literally told you like an hour before your half-assed reply to tell me where'd you put your clothes."

Of course her sisters, more specifically Aliyah Goddamn Ortega, would find the most perfect timing to call her about the stupidest shit there could ever be.

"Okay, now, fuck off."

Jenna grimaced through gritted teeth as she hung up. She loved her sister, but does she love you more? Absolutely.

"Josh!" She called out, running towards him, "Sorry, kind of abrupt, but do you know where Y/n went?" Atleast she had some decency left in her to be polite to some.

"Actually—"

"Let one more word come out of your mouth not related to my question, and I swear, Josh—"

"Y/n left early, they told me to tell you but I guess I forgot."

Maybe a little too carefree.

"You fucking guess!?— I mean, yes, thank you. I’ll be going."

Oh, the waiting game is a pain in the ass.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You pace back and forth in Jenna's apartment, your socks making a dent in the fuzzy carpet in the living room Jenna bought when you moved in with her, a nail in between your teeth and rain pouring in the background.

How in the hell did you forget possibly all your devices on fucking set!?

Your phone was dead, and your laptop was unfortunately abandoned by its owner (yours truly) and you have no way of contacting your lovely girlfriend.

And worse of all, it was a little over midnight.

All this because you got a notification that someone was at the door for an hour.

And it was just a fucking cat. (To be fair, they were really cute.)

You were starting to worry, especially how it was pouring outside like there was a hurricane incoming and how you left early without Jenna intertwining her warm and soft hands around yours.

So not only did you leave all your devices behind, but you also left Jenna without any means of contacting you.

You almost cursed yourself, maybe even doing the most stupidest and financially unstable decision of ordering a new phone as if it was going to be delivered same day.

Until you heard a slight click and a door opening.

There were times thunder struck, but it definitely did not beat the way your heart almost leaps into your throat as you hear the door opening.

You pause in your steps, a deep breath stuck in your mouth as you cross the living room and peer through the door way.

The door swung open and you're met with the, one of the most gorgeous and relieving sights you may add, of Jenna standing there. Slightly damp and with an... angry? Expression on her face.

"Jenna!" You blurted out, rushing over to her and enveloping her in a tight hug. "Did Josh fill you in? I feel terrible for getting home early, I'm so sorry. There was this whole thing I had to deal with, then the rain came pouring down, and I thought I'd at least get you a cab—"

"Shh. Just stay still. And preferably quiet."

When she's in your arms, she melts in the warmth of the comfort you bring to her. "Guess you caught the cab." You whisper under your breath.

You notice her breathing slowing down, the tension in her body easing away, a gentle smile playing on her lips as she buries her head in your neck. A sway the both of you took upon as she tugged at your chest with her hands wrapped around your body.

Jenna felt and smelled like home. Maybe heaven really is real if you're back in her arms after death.

"Is everything okay? Did something go down on set while I was away? Oh, Jenna, I'm so—" You start to pull back, placing your hands on her shoulders.

"Y/n, push me away, I fucking dare you, I'll bring down hell upon this godforsaken world."

You hesitate, but her gaze wants nothing more than to be in your arms. Who were you to deny her?

With a gentle squeeze of her shoulders, you pull her back into your arms. You weren't much taller than Jenna, in fact, just an inch or two apart. You loved that about eachother, like the two of you were a perfect fit.

Minutes pass, the only sound of the soft rhythm of Jenna's breathing and your heartbeat became a melody to your ears.

"I'm gonna hard launch the both of us right fucking now."

Well, that definitely caught you off-guard.

"Something happened?"

"You weren't on set for like hours! And everyones got too damn annoying for my ears to even process so I was trying to look for you, but then I ended up insulting Emma and the others, then I called you my lovely neighbor because I almost ended up saying you're my lover so I had to cover for it!"

"...That's quite a handful. I'm sorry I wasn't there, baby."

Even so, you knew that Jenna wasn't ready for a public relationship, not now that everyone was currently holding her at a social and cyber gunpoint with her life.

And even back then, you were the first one in the relationship who told her that the both of you would be better off if they both kept it private.

Even from their friends... And maybe more so families. Or maybe Jenna's. It's pretty hard to keep secrets from her family.

Obviously, look how that turned out.

Finally, Jenna murmurs something. "Sorry. It's been a rough day." Then she adds, almost as an afterthought, "Just without you."

You could almost kill yourself of the mere thought of even having to leaving Jenna the whole day.

"I—"

"Don't worry, I know you were busy with tech."

"Yeah. They got me wrapped up in their troubles, but 's all fine."

"Ever thought beating the complete shit out of them?"

"Jenna, you can't just say that!"

"But they've been literally hogging you from me! And I think that's completely unfair!"

"But you really shouldn't. You'd probably end up getting destroyed, especially with your height."

"Oh, but I definitely should. Besides, we're the same height, Y/n."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Okay, you know what, tempting as it sounds, I don't think violence is the answer."

She scoffs another time, a crease in her forehead. "Well, it's definitely an option worth considering."

After a moment of silence, you carry her to the living room, her legs dangling as you lift her from her feet and settle her onto the soft-cushioned couch.

You start to pull away once you set her down, stretching your body after a tense day, yet a certain someone was making grabby hands for you while shooting a look with her eyes begging you to stay.

"Y/n, don't you want to stay here with me?" She pulls you closer, locking her legs around yours.

Oh, Jenna knows damn well you couldn't resist her.

"Jenna, just relax," you gently tug her legs apart with your own, letting them fall as she permits, "I'll just get you some water."

She tugs at the hem of your shirt, "Then I'll come with!" Her smile almost comes back alive and she's already clinging onto your arm.

"Jenna. The love of my life."

"Y/n?"

"You're tired, stressed, snappy, grum—"

"Okay, I am not grumpy or snappy!" Jenna bites back almost immediately. "Why does everybody keep saying that?"

You shoot her a look. A yup-thats-why-look, and it's enough to get a pout to form on her lips.

"Grumpy, and you're still damp from the rain. I wouldn't be surprised if you wake up with a cold in the morning." You gently pat her head before sitting her back down. "I'll be quick, alright? You know I'm not going far just for a glass of water."

"Fine," Jenna huffs, "But you better hurry back! Ten seconds, tops!"

With a smile playing on your lips, you roll your eyes before making your way to the kitchen. And of course, Jenna's gaze from the couch was following you. You know patience was never Jenna's strong suit when it comes with you.

It wasn't even a few seconds before you heard,

"Y/nnnn!" Jenna's voice calls out from the living room, almost sounding like a groan and a whine.

It's almost amusing how someone as seemingly nonchalant yet sweet as Jenna could also be this puddle of affection and clinginess when it came to you.

You chuckle to yourself before quickly making your way back to her, holding out the glass of water for her.

"That was well over ten seconds." Jenna remarks, downing the water in one go before setting the glass on the coffee table. Then, she pulls you back towards her, and before you know it, you're both collapsing onto the couch.

"Well, I thought I did great." You say before Jenna tackles you into a very tight hug.

Leaning back against the cushions, you let out a sigh, feeling the everything slowly melting away when she's in your arms. Jenna inches closer, resting her head on your chest as you wrap an arm around her, holding her close.

"Hug me tighter, y/n." She murmurs softly, almost demanding if she didn't have a soft melody to her voice, her body warm against yours and her breathing seemed to be in sync with your own.

"You'll die if I do." You sigh contentedly.

Jenna lets out a huff, her breath warm against your skin and her scent was all too comforting. That earthy rain smell and her aromatic fragrance. "You know that I don't mind," she replies, "Of course you'd think I'd care if I died in your arms."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You're impossible, Jenna." You shake your head once against, ruffling her hair as you give her an extra squeeze before loosening your hold slightly to let her breathe.

"You want dinner?" You whisper to her after, not even above a decibel just for her to relax. "I didn't get the chance to stop by at the bakery."

"Please," comes Jenna's response.

You know what a full-on smile with dimples from her sounds and feels like when she has that hopeful and happy tune to her otherwise grumpy voice today.

You slowly pull yourself back up, gently pushing Jenna off your chest. And also unknowingly pulling a koala trapped in a 5'1, 22 year old body named Jenna Ortega clinging onto your back.

"Jenna."

She buries her head into the crook of your neck, eyes half-lidded. "Mmm… Yeah?" It's honestly surprising how she can actually and literally attach herself to you.

"Jenna, you have to let go so I can cook." Even as you ask her to release herself, you adjust to her weight on your back, carefully making your way to the kitchen, your hands securely holding onto her legs.

"You can cook just fine, Y/n," she whines, "You have two arms."

"And you," you reply, gently patting her legs, "have two legs and two arms. I can't cook with you piggybacking, baby."

You can tell the nickname made her smile. "Yeah, but I don't have a built-in Y/n in my system that I can cuddle with all day. So please just let me be."

"No, Jenna—You're gonna get hurt."

You reach the kitchen and gently lower Jenna from her back, setting her down on the kitchen island.

Her arms still lingered around your neck for a moment before she reluctantly, and against her will so it seems, lets go. "You know how frantic I am when I cook."

"Then maybe, you're not a good cook."

"I'm trying to keep my girlfriends, which is you, may I add, life out of harms way."

"Maybe that's the reason why you're not a good cook."

"Jenna."

Grabby hands, once again, making a return and tugging you by your shirt collar. But this time, you resist.

"Whyyyyyyy?" she whines, her bottom lip jutting out in a Jenna Ortega fashionable pout. "Do you hate me, Y/N?"

You roll your eyes playfully before booping her on the tip of her nose. "I'm cooking you a meal to show that I love you, baby." You pull back yourself and put on an apron standing off side to the fridge, Jenna's gaze could almost burn holes into the fabric.

"Okay." She sighs, dropping her head down. "Okay, fine! Can I just hold your hand?" She looks up to see you standing in front of her, wearing the cutest apron with the well-known kiss the chef quote.

A faint blush spreads across her freckled face, and you couldn't help but smile at her.

You can't really cook with one hand that properly. But if Jenna wants you to cook for her even if you had your hands surgically removed from your body, then so fucking be it. A few missing limbs can't top a few smiles from your girlfriend.

"Alright, baby." You place take her hand and lead her to the stove where it seemed like you've got everything prepared. "Just get behind me when there's oil splashing, mkay?"

A few minutes pass by with Jenna's hand in yours while you cook. Her head leans against your shoulder as she stands close.

Between the two of you, Jenna was always the one who takes over the cooking part of the relationship, no matter how much you insist cooking for her. But you're grateful and very fortunate now that she's allowing you to take over. Plus, Jenna keeps you entertained with her witty remarks and random stuff about her day.

Oh, what a life you're living in.

"You didn't cook for yourself?" Jenna's voice interrupts your thoughts as you plate a serving of salmon topped with herbs, accompanied by sliced lemon and a few kiwis. With the skin left on, of course, just how she likes it. Only for your loving girlfriend.

You shake your head, taking her hand and her plate in the other, leading her to the dining table. "I'm good. I had a late lunch earlier," you reply, gently placing the plate on the table and sitting her down. "Besides, it's not often I get to cook for you. It wouldn't be as special if I cooked for myself too."

Jenna's eyes almost appear teary as she looks at you. "Please never show yourself again in public. I seriously cannot lose you." She replied almost immediately.

If you didn't miss it, you would've seen the adoration and love shining in Jenna's gaze. It's as if she wants to ditch the meal entirely and cover your face with kisses.

You swear you probably ate a seed in your chest by how you kept feeling warmth bloom in your heart at her. "How can I do that if I'm an actor?" You chuckle, "They'd probably question you first if I disappear."

Jenna takes her fork and points it at you, slicing a piece of salmon with her spoon. "Hey, I've seen the tweets about people practically drooling over you. It's like they're your lover and not mine!"

You crease your forehead, crossing your arms, "You get more thirst tweets more than I do!"

"And I believe you contribute to that percentage." She raises one eyebrow, smirking at your direction before chewing on another piece of salmon. It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

A factual one at that.

You almost choke at your own words. "Oh, you know me so well."

A sigh escapes your lips, your smile still in place. "Besides, we're not exactly public, are we?" Leaning in, you draw Jenna into your own little world. "You're the only one who gets the real me. If I leave, I'll cross my heart on my own and I'll die on my own."

Jenna looks at you while taking a bite of her salmon, chewing slowly as if she's contemplating something, a tug in her lips. "Mn, guess so."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You'd think you'd get some work done, maybe memorize future scripts or send out some emails to directors asking if you could audition for a show at one in the morning.

Instead, you're lying in bed with Jenna.

Or maybe a koala in this case.

In bed. Blankets over the both of you. Pillow's a bit too comfy to even think about getting up. Plus, the koala in question may or may not have hidden your phone and charger.

Jenna wasn't always a light sleeper. Sometimes, you'd wake up in the middle of the night to find her sitting up with a blanket draped over her entire body, furiously typing away in her notes app. It's endearing, but also makes you wonder if she's ever dabbled in witchcraft.

Now, she's wide awake to even be one.

Her eyes closed and her breathing steady enough to lull you asleep. The atmosphere is cozy, and so is your girlfriend laying atop of you.

Her arms were wrapped around yours for the millionth time while her head rests on her favorite part of your chest, her head staring off to the side as if she's trying to hear your heartbeat.

You thought she'd be passed out after dinner, but she dragged you by the cuffs of your hoodie and lead you to the bedroom.

"Jenna," you whisper not above even the slightest decibel, "I have work to do." The gentle rise and fall of her chest steadies in sync with yours, her head tilting slightly in the other way, and the grip she has on your body suddenly got tighter. It's already as if you'll fly away from her.

She huffs as she raises her head to face yours. "Your work—whatever that is—can wait, but I can’t." The room is dim, too dim, yet you could see the slight dip in her bottom lip.

You know you should focus, but with her so close, it's hard to think about anything else other than, 'Nah, fuck it. I'll live.'

You bring your hands up to cup her cheeks, gently brushing her messy fringe away from her face. Even in this dim light, you could see her freckles scattered across her face like vines making something so abandoned a painting.

Jenna sighs when she looks at you. "Y/n, how long are you gonna keep me playing the waiting game?"

"The waiting game? What even is that—"

"Can you kiss me?"

Oh. Her eyes become almost second nature to her words.

"Because I remember being woken up to the most gorgeous person ever but they didn't give me kisses, and I think—mpmhmmh..."

It took all your effort not to pull her into a kiss.

Obviously, your efforts were in vain.

Truth be told, you miss the way her lips hung on yours, she was perfect in every way. How her arms would wrap around you, how she'd reach up to tug on your jawline, tracing every thing you had offered her, how you would push back only for her to pull you closer.

The kiss soon ended with you and Jenna locking eyes. No words exchanged but the heavy breath the both of you took apart from eachother.

"—I think I might die..." Her words are breathless, her arms perfectly secured around your neck as you sit up.

You smile at her. "Well, I kept you alive, didn't I?"

"No," she breathes, taking hold of your cheeks before sitting up herself. "No, I'm still six feet underground if you don't continue what you were doing."

"You know, I'm starting to like the waiting game."

"Make me play that shit again, it'll be the last time you'll ever make a decision."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

jennaortega

Liked by ememyers and 1,398,938 others jennaortega goodnight to my gorgeous gorgeous girl @.y/l/n x 6 hours ago

natalieortega1: My fav girls!

joysunday: what lovely neighbors we have here

ememyers: !?@#%%#?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

user: WE FUCKING KNEW IT

moosa_mostafa_: we never knew....

user: MY??????? MY???????? WHAT MY WHY MY?????????????????????

user: now how long....

georgieebleu: the coolest ever

user: WHATS IT FINNA PLAY??????

naomijogawa: two losers having a loser rs

user: having a heart attack holYHIST WHAT HT FUCK

user: literally stop.

hunterdoohan: Respect!!!!

user: shit so insane she got the whole cast to comment

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In short, Jenna won. Plus, she got all the kisses and cuddles she wanted until the alarm hit. (When it did, your name was surprisingly all over social media along with Jenna.)

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x gnreader #jenna ortega x gn!reader #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega

[lvckyyz]

hecate’s cabin headcanon

cabin’s song: i put a spell on you - nina simone

cabin 20 belongs to the children of the goddess of magic and witchcraft

and her children are SO powerful it’s actually scary

they are more respected than some children of the big three, which means they are under a lot of pressure

people expect them to be great

and to be honest they’re definitely great, they’re just scared of their full potential 😕

hecate’s kids are always looking for knowledge, not only in books but also asking other demigods, expecting they’ll learn something new from them

they are really close to their siblings, cabin 20 feels like a big magical family 🧙‍♀️

everyone thinks they are all serious and quiet but they’re actually really playful, especially with mortals. chiron is always wishing that no one ask for hecate’s kids to go on a mission, because they’re always playing with the mist

they look tired most of the time, it doesn’t matter how long they rested

they are all really kind and are always taking care of people, even if they don’t tell anyone they’re doing that

like, every night a group of children of hecate checks if the camp is safe, making sure the magical borders and the golden fleece are there

all of them are into jewelry and have a big collection of accessories

friends with cabins 6, 13 and 15, the girls in cabin 20 also have a good relationship with the hunters of artemis

strong intuition

they’re mostly introverted but open up easily to people they like

their mother talks to them in their dreams really often

they’ve been responsible since they were kids

all of them have a weird habit of staring at the moon and/or fire like it was alive🤷‍♀️

the satyrs loves children of hecate and always treat them really well. they used to believe that the secret behind the disappearance of Pan was hidden inside cabin 20 (Hecate is Pan’s mother)

usually into philosophy

they’re kinda funny too, not the funniest of all chb but they manage to make people laugh sometimes

usually look like they’re crazy

and they usually ARE crazy, but a “cute” kind of crazy, i don’t really know how to explain it

am i the only one who believes they make perfumes in cabin 20?

hecate’s children are the only ones who are not targets of cabin 11’s pranks, because once a daughter of hecate turned the stolls brothers into diet coke cans and gave it to mr. d (luckily he noticed the cans were weird and turned travis and connor back to normal😭)

a/n: this song is so good😔

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #heros of olympus #pjo hoo toa #jason grace #pjo imagine #pjo tv show #rick riordan #riordanverse #headcanon #cabin 20 #hecate #leo valdez #luke castellan #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #will solace #thalia grace

[writerslittlelibrary]

You are a witch

masterlist

summary: you were adopted by Natasha Romanoff, the great Black Widow. But what happens when the truth uncovers? What happens when the three kings of hell are sent to kill you, and you manage to uncover your power and banish them?

pairing: Natasha x daughter reader, Yelena x niece reader, Melina & Alexei x granddaughter reader

warnings: witchcraft, rats?

genre: angst, fluff

words: 2483

a/n: I'm watching an awful lot of the chilling adventures of Sabrina lately, so I wanted to write a little mcu crossover with a witch reader :) 

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It all happened so fast. At one point you were home, doing your homework like you did every friday evening. Then, at the other moment, the door was broken down, and the demons entered your home.

You did not know how to fight them off. You did not know they were even demons. They looked like humans, and you had no reason to suspect otherwise.

Of course, you knew better now.

The demons had disguised themselves to look like mortals. They were sent to assassinate you. You didn’t know they were demons, but once they drew their swords, you were pretty quick to run towards the widow and climb down using the fire escape.

The attackers followed you, and once you entered the Avengers tower, Wanda managed to banish them. She killed them. 

You remember Natasha running to you, assisting you. You were out of breath and terrified. Natasha slept in your room that night. You were scared to be left alone, and Natasha was terrified that someone would come and hurt you. Little did you know someone did. 

That same night, another demon entered your room.

However, this time, the demon did not disguise itself. I had come to kill you in its demon form. It did not hide itself. Your mother tried to protect you, but what good were her knives and her gun against an all mighty demon? 

Once the demon got ahold of your mother, you lost your temper. 

You did not know where it came from. You did not know how it worked. You did not know how you knew how to operate it. But you did.

Your eyes turned red. The wind from outside seemed to pick up inside your bedroom. The demon seemed afraid, even if his body language did not show it, his eyes did. It became afraid. You were afraid, but somehow, you managed to call upon a power hidden deep within your body. You managed to banish the demon for good. 

After you had killed it, you rushed to your mother who was bleeding out on the ground. The demon had slashed her side open, and she was running out of time. 

You did not understand it, but you had a vision. A flash in your mind that showed you exactly what to do. You covered your mothers’ wounds with your hands, and you closed your eyes. You called upon the power in your body, and Natasha’s wounds sealed shut. 

After that, Natasha had decided to take you out of town for a few days. 

It was clear that you were not safe in New York, and Natasha did not want to put you in any unnecessary danger. She did not know how the demons knew where you were, but she figured you would be much safer with her family, in Russia. 

And so, you flew to Russia, but not before Stephen Strange brought you a little visit. After hearing of your situation, and of your power awakening, he had gifted you a book. This book contained a series of spells, made by witches who were not similar to Stephen Strange, nor Wanda Maximoff. These witches possessed a different kind of magic. The kind of magic that you were now possessing. 

You had started practising a few spells, before you left for Russia. 

You were now driving towards your grandmothers’ farm, even though you had never met them.

-------------------------------------------------------------

“Are we nearly there? We have been driving for hours and my head hurts,” you sighed annoyed, staring out the window.

“Like I told you the other fifty times, we still have a few hours to go. If your head hurts, take a nap,” Natasha answered, done with your attitude the entire trip. She did not want to get mad at you. As a mother, she knew and understood that you had a difficult time these past few days, and that you were unlocking something within yourself that you did not know you had, but as a person, she was entirely done with your attitude. 

You let out another sigh in annoyance. “I don’t want to take a nap, mom. Why are we even going to these people? I’ve never met them. Who even are they?” 

“You know Aunt Yelena, and she will be there. And Melina and Alexei are my sort of parents, so I expect you to treat them with respect,” Natasha told you.

“What kind of animals do they have on the farm?” you asked. 

“What…?

“You said they lived on a farm. A farm usually has animals. What kind of animals do they have?”

Natasha sighed. “Well, Melina has pigs, but I believe that recently she started feeding some stray cats, and they have started to hang around the farm.” 

“Did you have animals when you were a child? I mean, in those three years you lived with them?” you asked Natasha, staring at her curiously.

“I did not, but there was a stray cat that I begged to take in. Melina and Alexei would not let me, although they did give me some cat food from time to time to feed it,” Natasha explained, steering the car onto an off road path. 

“Really? They don’t have road where they live? What? Is the farmhouse some fallen apart building as well?” you asked, sarcasm lacing your tone.

Natasha sighed, a small smirk appearing on your lips, yet she tried to hide it.

“Go to sleep, or I’ll knock you out myself.”

-------------------------------------------------------------

After you had fallen asleep in the car, the car ride took about another hour or two. Once you arrived, Natasha carefully woke you up, helping you out of the car.

Yelena was stood by the door, waiting for you to wake up fully so she could go and give you a hug.

“Aunt Yelena!” you exclaimed in happiness, running towards her and giving her a big hug. “I missed you! It has been far too long since you came to New York.” 

Yelena smiled and brushed some hair out of your face. 

“I was enjoying spending some time with my other half of my family,” Yelena started, leaning in a little closer so she could whisper in your ear. “Don’t worry, you are still my favourite.”

You smiled, giving Yelena a kiss on her cheek. 

“We should go inside,” Natasha then said, handing Yelena a bag to carry inside. 

“Sure,” Yelena said, whistling for Fanny, who had slipped past her to get out of the house when Yelena opened the door to wait for you, to come inside as well. 

Fanny ran towards you, excitedly jumping on you and begging for cuddles. You, obviously, happily obliged, spoiling Fanny in hugs and pets and kisses while she excitedly jumped on you, licking your face and cuddling close to you. 

Once you were inside, Yelena told Natasha that Melina and Alexei were waiting in the living room. 

Natasha had gone to greet them and to explain the situation with you, while Yelena stayed with you. Yelena led you to the spare bedroom, where she settled the bags down. 

“We only have one guest room, so you and Natasha will have to share. I am sure you do not mind,” Yelena explained, and you smiled and nodded as answer. 

“Did mom… tell you? Why we came here? Why she is so afraid?” you asked Yelena, sitting on the bed and settling your shoulder bag next to you. Yelena sighed before joining you on the bed, taking a moment to collect her thoughts before she spoke. 

“Natasha did not tell me a lot, but she told me that you were now… magical. She told me that something was- is hunting you,” Yelena explained, shaking her head. “She didn’t tell me much more.”

You sighed, looking down and picking at your skirt. 

“I am magical. I think I am a witch, but like, a really powerful one. Two demons came to attack me. They were aggressive, and they spoke about doing something for their master. They were sent to kill me, to assassinate me. My magic, or my powers, unlocked when the second one tried to hurt mom. And after, after he had hurt her and she was bleeding, I suddenly knew how to heal her, and my powers did. Someone powerful is trying to get rid of me, and I don’t even understand what I am,” you explained, looking at Yelena carefully, hoping you didn’t scare of confuse her. 

“Okay, so what you are saying is that my little niece is an ass kicking awesome witch?” Yelena said, smiling when she saw the relieved smile form on your face. 

After a moment of silence, Yelena moved to sit a little closer to you, indicating that whatever she was going to say next was probably serious.

“Listen to me, y/n. You are Natasha’s daughter. You are my niece. You are family, and no matter what you turn out to be, you will always be our family, and we will always be yours,” Yelena promised, cupping your face in her hands to get you to look at her. She smiled kindly, leaning forwards and pressing a kiss on you forehead. 

“Thank you, Auntie Yelena.”

------------------------------------------------------------- 

After your talk with Yelena, you had showed her your new book. The book that Strange gave you. It was full of spells and knowledge, and after reading some of it, you had started writing your own notes in your notebook. 

You also showed Yelena a little taste of your magic. You had managed to effortlessly change an eraser into Yelena’s favourite cookie, which disappeared the moment you took your eyes off of it. Not because the spell failed. Simply because Yelena had eaten it…

After about an hour, Natasha had come up to the room, knocking on the door and letting you know that it was time to meet your grandparents. 

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to be feeling. You were nervous, sure, but everyone is when they meet someone knew. You were most nervous about their importance. You knew how important Melina and Alexei were to Natasha and Yelena, and you did not want to say or do anything that might upset any of them.

Natasha took your hand, rubbing reassuring circles on it to hopefully soothe you.

“Everything’s gonna be okay. They are going to love you, and you will love them, I promise,” Natasha assured you, leading you downstairs. 

Once you entered the living room, Melina and Alexei were sitting on the couch. Melina stood up immediately when she noticed you entered. 

“Y/n, dear, we are so happy to finally meet you,” Melina said, walking over to you and embracing you in a hug. When she pulled back, she placed her hand on your cheek, taking a good look at your face. “What a beautiful girl you are,” she said, and you smiled.

“Thank you, Melina,” you said, and Melina smiled stepping aside and motioning her hand towards one of the other couches.

“Please, sit down. Would you like some tea, or another drink?” Melina asked, going into the kitchen to get your chosen drink while you sat down. 

Natasha sat down next to you, while Yelena chose the couch across from you. 

“It is very nice to meet you, my granddaughter. Welcome to the family!” Alexei exclaimed happily, laughing at the stern look Natasha gave him. 

-------------------------------------------------------------

After you had settled in, and you had gotten used to being around Melina and Alexei, you had all decided on some pizza for dinner. Slowly but surely you grew to like being around Melina and Alexei, even though Alexei was painfully loud and unaware at times. 

After you had settled at the dinner table, you sat beside Natasha, Alexei at the head of the table while Melina sat across from Natasha, and Yelena sat across from you. 

“So are you liking Russia, y/n? I believe Natasha told us you have never been here before?” Melina asked, and you nodded. 

“It’s very beautiful, definitely more beautiful than the busy city,” you responded, and Melina smiled. 

You reached forward, about to grab another slice of pizza from the pizza box when a strange wind picked up inside the house, and the squeaking of mice could be heard. 

You froze in your actions, looking around the house cautiously. 

“What’s wrong darling?” Natasha asked concerned, laying her hand on your arm. 

“Don’t you hear that? Don’t you feel that?” you asked, looking at Natasha with wide eyes while she shook her head no. 

“Do you need some water?” she asked, but you didn’t respond as you looked down at your feet, standing up quickly when you recognised the rats running around your legs. 

You gasped in surprise, taking a few steps back while Natasha and Yelena looked at you with concern. 

“Are you okay? What are you feeling?” Natasha asked, and you looked at her confused.

“Can’t you see the rats?!” you asked surprised, pointing at the rats that ran around your legs. Natasha shook her head no, but once the door to the living room slammed open, Natasha head turned towards it. What came through was something she could see.

“What the hell is that?!” Yelena said in surprise, standing up herself. 

Through the door walked a disgusting looking demon. His skin looked rotten and old, almost as if his body had been dead and rotting for weeks. 

“I AM BEELZEBUB, DEMON OF VERMIN, ONE OF THE THREE KINGS OF HELL. MY BROTHERS HAVE FAILED TO SUCCEED, BUT I WILL FINISH THE JOB!” the demon, Beelzebub spoke loudly, raising his arm out towards you. The rats charged at you, and you quickly ran to the couch to grab your bag.

You pulled you spellbook out, going through the pages quickly to find the banishing spell that you had researched before. 

“Y/n what the hell is going on?!” Yelena yelled at you, but you ignored her as you found the right page, raising your own hand towards the demon Beelzebub. 

“Beelzebub, I shall banish you as I did your brothers. You shall burn in the pits and fires of hell! Exilium, gehenna, evanescet. Beelzebub I banish thee!” you yelled out, lowering your hand when the demon Beelzebub disappeared into dust. 

“That was awesome,” Yelena spoke quickly, after assessing that you were not injured. 

“I need a nap,” you said, dropping the book and letting yourself fall down onto the couch. Natasha ran to your side quickly, holding your head in her hands.

“Are you alright?” she asked, a confused look overtaking her when she noticed your smile.

“I just banished, not just a demon, but one of the three kings of hell, with my own magic,” you explained proudly, letting your eyes fall close. “But it was exhausting, and I really need a nap now.” 

Natasha smiled softly, nodding. 

“Go to sleep, we’ll talk in the morning.”

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st

#black widow #marvel #natasha x reader #mcu #marvel reader insert #natasha x daughter #natasha x reader platonic #natasha romanoff #avengers #yelena belova x reader #yelena x reader #yelena #yelena belova #natasha romanoff x teen reader #natasha romanoff x reader platonic #natasha romanoff x daughter #natasha romanov #melina vostokoff #alexei shostakov #chilling adventures of sabrina #witch reader

[dhampling]

bramble jam girl!dadstarion, <1k

“I thought it’d be nice! Everyone likes jam!” “In what realm would we need this much jam?” - (x reader) christening this most inaugural of dadstarion fridays with the most fang-rottingly sweet fluff i could muster. enjoy! w/c: 700+

He kneels next to her with a pensive furrow, the critical moment; small wooden spoon in hand nudging little closed lips smeared already in a sticky purple. 

Bated breath. 

Astarion taps as her mouth remains closed. She looks at him with the same half-baked incredulous look he gives you - a firm ‘no’, with notes of why would you even ask me to do this, you freak?

“Come on! It’s delicious. Look!”

He lifts the spoon to his own mouth and pokes his tongue just past his lips, darting briefly into the bizarre gloop. 

The resulting wince is priceless. It tastes of nothing to him; of cinders and dead syrup. The wobble of a smile as he aims to convince her that whatever the spoon yields is lovely wrapped in a deeply unsatisfied ‘mmm’. 

Looks at him with genuine disgust. She’s too perceptive. 

Behind his back the kitchen sits a picture of disarray - spattered in bramble pulp and dotted with various wooden stirrers, bubbling cauldron atop the stove, littered granules of sugar now crystalline on both the countertop and your floor. 

“What is this?” You break your cover, his head whipping round to find yours sheepishly.

“I made jam! She won’t eat it.” 

A feeble quirk of his lips. Whoopsie! 

“Why would she eat plain jam?”

“Why wouldn’t she! Yummy jam! Yum!” He speaks in a sing-song lilt, cracking in sleep-deprivation.

“Why have you used all my brambles on said jam?”

The tar-like brew looks awful. Thick and dark, smelling of dark sugar and burnt lemon. He winces once more.

“I thought it’d be nice! Everyone likes jam!”

“In what realm would we need this much jam?”

The shoulders sag and he stands from his kneel, tilting his head to look at her and putting the spoon on the bare table. You fight the instinct to roll your eyes knowing full well he won’t be the one wiping the sticky spot later.

“I don’t know! Jam!”

Hands wide around his head, a tired smile wracked with mirth. Eyes round.

He tried. He really did try. Recipe book pages open on the side now splattered with maroon fruit juice. The air is thick with the smell of sugar. You take a spoon from the silverware drawer and try a little straight from the pan, blowing the purple globule to cool it; and it isn’t bad in the slightest. 

Not particularly good, granted, but he’s neglected the aromatics - you presume because his target audience is just breaching a year old. You clear your throat in preparation for the most saccharine baby voice you can muster.

“Little love! Look!” 

You take the spoon from Astarion and suckle on the cool jam, smiling animatedly and nodding in visible contentment. A joyous ‘mmm’. 

She watches on with genuine awe. Nods along. Her own attempt at a ‘mmm’ sounding more like a kitten mewl. Chubby fingers reaching for your spoon in little bunny bounces until her face looks to be on the verge of crumpling with want.

He watches on in amazed resent, eyes soft. 

“She can tell you don’t like it. That’s why she doesn’t want it.” 

You refill her spoon from the pot and blow over it for a minute or two while he lifts her gently from the ornate baby chair and brings her little form over. 

“That was witchcraft. I’m calling in on the nearest guild of mage-breakers first thing, you know.” He whispers as she burbles and reaches out for your warm hands. You press a small kiss to the high of his cheekbone. 

She grabs messily for the spoon as you bring it to her lips. Opens wide in anticipation of ‘the red dragon’; one of the smallest seeds on top of the gloopy pile christened after Lae’zel with both you and Astarion wailing in mock horror as she eats your long-time friend. Her little laugh is like a singing bell, the messy flicks of her tongue as she relishes the taste and bounces in his arms.

“No. She simply just reveres you. Why would she eat something if she knows you don’t like it? Clearly something of a tastemaker in those little eyes.” You smile at him with a slow blink.

He looks to you and back to her with the warmth of a Kythorn highsun. Rests his head atop yours.

#my writing #dadstarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #fluff #bg3 #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #dadstarion fridays

[coraniaid]

In Season 1's Witch Buffy insists on defending Amy's apparent use of magic, even when she thinks she's been cursed by a life-threatening spell that Amy cast on her. "It's not Amy's fault," Buffy tells her friends, "She only became a witch to survive her mother".

This is an interesting moment for a couple of reasons. It's one of the last few times on the show that anybody will stand up for Amy Madison, a character who, despite going through multiple horrific experiences through the course of the show, is treated with considerably less sympathy or respect than .... well, take your pick, honestly: I'm not sure I can think of a recurring character the show consistently has less empathy for. But also, of course, Buffy is factually wrong: it wasn't Amy who cast a spell on her at all, but rather her mother Catherine who, we later learn, used magic to steal her daughter's body "a few months ago" and imprisoned her in own home in an attempt to relive her own high school glory days.

But it's also, I think, a possible bit of unintentional foreshadowing. Later on in the show, Amy will go on to become a witch. Not just any witch but, by the standards the show will later adopt, a surprisingly powerful one: already by her second appearance Amy seems to be able to cast spells that the Willow Rosenberg of Season 3 and 4 would have struggled with (the turning people into a rat and back one in particular), and Willow is clearly meant to be some sort of prodigy.

The show never bothers to ask how or why this happened. Amy presumably had access to her mother's old spell books (in the same way Willow was initially teaching herself from Jenny Calendar's notes), but until some point in Season 3, when she starts doing magic with Willow and Michael, Amy doesn't seem to have had any one else helping her. (Although one slightly depressing possibility raised -- I think unintentionally -- by Season 6 is that Amy was already going to see Rack as early as the high school seasons: how else would she know how to find him in Wrecked only days after being turned back into a human and after having been trapped in the form of a rat since Season 3's Gingerbread?).

But, again, why is Amy doing this? We know a lot about why Willow wants to become a witch. We can guess why Tara -- whose own relationship with her mother is almost the exact opposite of Amy's -- became a witch. What about Amy herself? What is her motive? There are much easier ways to cheat on tests, surely. Are we supposed to assume that being an evil witch is hereditary or something? (Certainly the show hadn't quite yet decided what it wanted witchcraft to be a metaphor for, for all that Amy's second appearance literally begins with her asking Willow if she's planning to attend the school's Valentine Dance.)

Well, consider how Witch ends. Buffy and Catherine are fighting, Catherine casts a spell to ensure that Amy "never makes trouble again", the spell backfires and Catherine vanishes. The audience know what happen to her, but none of the characters ever find out ("There's been no sign of her?" Buffy asks Amy after she's got her own body back.) Maybe Amy wasn't quite as confident about not having to worry about her mother anymore as she claims to be. Maybe she was worried that her new idyllic life with her father wouldn't last for long (and... well, it doesn't). Maybe she was afraid about what would happen to her if her mother ever came back looking for revenge and Amy still wasn't strong enough to defend herself.

So maybe Buffy was right after all. Maybe Amy did become a witch to survive her mother.

#btvs #apropos my last post I don't think this reading is in any way intended by the writers who obviously gave Amy almost no thought at all

[vivwritesfics]

You can ignore this if you’re uncomfortable with it, but a witch Charles or witch Oscar, who is terrified of reader leaving him, so he does some witchy things to make sure she can’t leave

i love it and this has given me an idea for another fic

Oscar kept his practices pretty well under wraps. He did it in the safety of his own home, and never when he was away at a race weekend. Nobody knew what he could do, nobody but Mark Webber, the man that taught him.

Oscar never practiced witchcraft has a way to influence the outcome of a race. He wanted his and Lando's win to be a show of their talents, not a show of his power.

It was the same for his relationship. Oscar wanted her to love him for him, not because of his magic. She didn't know about his magic, and Oscar wanted to keep it that way. He kept his spell books incredibly well hidden in plain site. He kept them on the bookshelf, a dust jacket for a fantasy novel wrapped around it.

Even if she opened it and tried to cast the spells, it wouldn't do her any good. She didn't have magic, she wouldn't be able to cast.

But then she pulled the book from the shelf. "I love this series," she said as she sat beside Oscar on the sofa. She pulled off the dust jacket and frowned. But she pushed on. Maybe Oscar had bought a special addition copy.

"Oscar, what's this?" She asked as she flipped to the first page. What was written on it wasn't... a language.

Eyes wide, Oscar sat up and snatched the book from her hands. "Nothing," he said quickly. "It's a Halloween decoration," he said and pulled the dust jacket back on. He put it back on the shelf and sat beside her.

She thought nothing of it. She certainly didn't think that Oscar was a witch.

But she got busy, was less and less able to spend time with Oscar. As much as she wanted to be by her boyfriends side, she couldn't, not with how occupied her job was keeping her.

Oscar didn't see it this way. She was pulling away from him, he thought. She was going to leave him because she found out the truth about him.

On one of the nights were she was late at work (one of the nights where Oscar thought she was trying to stay away from him), he flipped through his spell book, searching for an attachment spell. It was a kid of magic he had never done before, one Mark had warned him away from.

But he couldn't lose her, not now.

Oscar lit the necessary candles and muttered the necessary incantation three times. Now she'd never want to leave him.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader smut #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #op81 #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #supernatural au #supernatural!f1

[hoomandoescosplay]

Static | Alastor x Reader Oneshot

“Alastor, the radio demon, is supposedly quite a popular name in Hell. So much so that his name had somehow ventured into the human world.”

“Some people have even tried to summon the demon by giving him offerings hoping he’d show himself to them and grant them powers beyond their own capabilities.”

My friend Naomi explains to me while we walk to our class. “Don’t tell me you’ve tried to summon him.” I sigh. “You usually don’t bring this kind of stuff up before you’ve tried it.”

She’s always been into magic and witchcraft. I honestly don’t understand any of it but she loves talking to me about it.

I definitely believe that kind of stuff exists in the world but it can be so confusing, especially when people make stuff up all the time.

Naomi has said she’s experienced many phenomenons before but she has quite a creative mind.

Naomi grins as she nods her head. “Of course I’ve tried it! Would you like to give it a try? I have the instructions written down in one of my spellbooks.” She starts to rummage around in her backpack.

“It shouldn’t take long. We can do it after school gets out today.” My eyes go wide as I pull her arm stopping us from walking.

“Are you crazy? Absolutely not. No way do I want to try that.” Naomi chuckles. “You really need to learn to have some fun.”

She continues, “There’s no harm in calling out a demon and asking for powers. Besides, you don’t think he’ll actually show up do you?”

I just stare at her. She’s crazy, she has to be crazy. “No harm?” I echo bewildered. I let out a strained laugh. “I honestly don’t even know how to respond to what you just said.”

Naomi shrugs. “The worst thing that can happen is the summoning doesn’t work and your day proceeds as normal. That’s what I call ‘no harm’.” Her smile widens.

“And,” she adds. “It’s our senior year. We have to do something fun and mysterious.” I sigh again. “I guess you’re right.” I readjust my backpack as I take a second to think. “Alright, let’s do it.”

Naomi squeals with delight. “Oh! You’re not going to regret it, not one bit! This is going to be amazing, just you wait and see!” She pulls a small leather bound book out of her backpack.

“Here we are. ‘How to summon demons 101.’ Let’s see what we need…” Naomi starts to scan through a few of the book’s pages.

I see other students look at us as they walk past and I can feel my face heat up. “Maybe we should look at your book after school.” I suggest quietly.

Naomi’s eyebrows raise as she looks up at me. “Yeah… I guess that would be for the best. This isn’t exactly the type of thing you can just pull out of your backpack and flip through in the middle of a hallway without drawing attention to yourself.”

She quickly puts her book back away and we continue to walk to our class.

A few minutes later, we arrive at our class and quickly shuffle into our seats. I look over at Naomi and she’s grinning at me before turning back to face the front of the room.

The teacher quickly walks into the classroom, and class begins. The class progresses as it normally would. The teacher gives the lesson and asks a few questions here and there.

A few times, I catch Naomi looking in my direction, likely waiting until the end of class to start the summoning.

The clock on the wall slowly creeps closer to the end of class. The other students gradually lose interest in the lecture and start to daydream as the teacher keeps lecturing on.

After a few more minutes of lecturing, the teacher pauses. “That’s all the time we have for today. I’d like to end the day with a reminder of our next assignment and the due date for the project we’ve been working on all week.”

I can see Naomi jittering in her seat as we wait to be dismissed and I roll my eyes with a small smile.

The teacher makes a few more announcements before the bell rings. The class quickly rises to their feet and most students start to shuffle for the door.

As I try to make my way to the door, I bump into Naomi who eagerly grabs onto my arm in a tight grip. “Let’s go, you ready?”

I nod. “As ready as I can be.” Naomi squeals once more. “Yes, that’s the spirit!” She starts to pull me out of the classroom, down the hallway and out the front of the school.

─── ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ───

We get to Naomi’s house after a short walk and as we walk in she checks to make sure her parents aren’t home.

“Quick, let’s go up to my room.” Naomi’s eyes dart back and forth as she leads me up the stairs and into her bedroom.

Naomi quickly shuts the door behind me and I can hear her quietly lock the door. She quickly heads over to her bed, places her backpack on it, and pulls out her spellbook.

Naomi quickly flips through the pages as she starts listing off some of the items needed. “Okay… Here’s what we need: a black candle, a glass of water, a salt circle, and the words spoken in the summoning.”

I nod as I walk towards her bed to place my backpack down as well. “Can I see?” I ask, trying to take a peek at her book.

Naomi chuckles and shakes her head. “Not now. As soon as everything is set-up, I’ll let you get a glance.” She closes her book fast.

“Now help me grab some supplies from the closet. I only have one candle.” Naomi walks over to the closet as she waits for me to join her.

I immediately get a strange feeling but shrug it off and walk towards her.

The two of us enter the closet and start grabbing the supplies needed for the candle and the salt circle.

Naomi grabs the candle and a lighter, as well as a small glass for the water while I grab a large bag of salt that’s sitting on the top shelf of the closet.

I make sure to hold the bag of salt carefully so that it doesn’t spill. I then join Naomi back in the middle of the room and she starts to pour the salt into a near perfect circle around the middle of the ground.

As she pours the salt, I can see Naomi make sure that every inch of the circle is covered.

At the very center of the circle, she places the candle and the glass of water. “What’s the glass of water for?” I ask curiously.

“It’s the vessel that holds the demon’s spirit which allows him to take a physical form.” Naomi’s eyes light up as she explains this to you.

I begin to ask another question but she cuts me off. “Oh! I forgot we also need a knife. I’ll be right back.” She runs out of the room as I process what she said. “A knife? Hmm that’s weird.” I mumble.

I have a quiet moment to myself while Naomi is out of the room. I take this moment to walk towards her book and flip through the pages quickly.

The last few cover the ritual we were planning on doing and my eyes widen when I realize none of the materials we collected were used to summon the radio demon.

Suddenly I hear her footsteps coming back up the hallway making me close the book fast. As I’m holding it I make a split second decision to shove it into my backpack.

I then quickly ran to stand back in the area I was in before she left. She opens the door, holding a small steak knife in her hand as she smiles at me.

Naomi happily holds up the knife for me to see. “Look! Isn’t it shiny? It’ll make the ritual look cooler, especially when we plunge it into... Oh well you’ll find out in no time.”

I just stare at her trying to remain calm. “That’s when the fun part starts!” Her eyes shimmer as she stares at me.

“You know,” I start off. “I don’t know if I’m feeling up to this anymore. I didn’t tell my parents I was stopping over here so I should probably head home.” I say quietly.

“Huh? What do you mean you’re not feeling up for this?” Naomi’s voice sharpens as she steps toward me.

I instinctively take a step back as I feel my voice catch in my throat.

“No, no, no. You’re not leaving until this is finished.” Naomi starts walking toward me with the knife held up in front of her.

I continue to walk back more hoping to get to my backpack. “I’m really sorry but maybe another time?” I lie hoping to sound believable enough.

Her voice grows louder as she continues to walk toward me. “Another time? What do you mean another time? No, you’re not leaving until this is finished! There’s no turning back now, we’re in way too far.”

I grab my backpack and try to sidestep her to get to her boardroom door.

As soon as I start to pass her Naomi’s arm quickly reaches out and grabs me.

She pulls me close to her and holds the knife close to my neck as she speaks in a slightly quieter voice, although she’s still angry and loud. “I told you there’s no turning back. You’re not leaving until this is finished.”

“Please let go of me Naomi.” I whisper out. “You really don’t need me for this.” Naomi grips my arm slightly tighter as she tightens the knife against my neck.

She laughs lightly as she stares into my eyes with a devious expression. “Oh, but I do. The ritual calls for a sacrifice and you happen to be the lucky one that I’ve chosen.”

I grab her hand trying to get her to let go of my arm. In response she tightens her grip even more with each time I try to pull her hand off.

“What did I just say? The ritual requires a sacrifice and I can’t have you backing out on me now. I’ve been waiting to summon this demon for months.” My eyes widen as I come to a realization.

“So, you’re gonna sit down and stay put until it’s finished. Okay?” I feel myself start to shake.

“Did you- did you become friends with me just because you wanted to use me for this…” I pause as I take a second to swallow. “For this ritual?”

Naomi’s eyes narrow as she leans in close to my ear to answer. “Of course I did. What, you didn’t think that I’d genuinely want to be friends with you, did you?”

She waits to see if she can get any reaction out of me before continuing. “I saw you standing there by yourself, like a lost little deer, and I knew that I could use you to my advantage.”

She leans back a bit to laugh at the situation causing the knife to stray away from my neck slightly. A strange static feeling in the air makes me notice the knife’s gap.

I quickly dart my eyes around the room and notice that she never re-locked the door after getting the knife.

I use this opportunity to sling my backpack off my shoulder and shove it into her creating enough distance between us.

Naomi lets out a shriek of frustration and surprise as the backpack bumps into her.

She drops the knife and I have enough time to make a break for it. I quickly run out of her room and down the stairs to the door.

I hear her shout out my name from behind me, but I don’t slow down and refuse to turn around to look at her.

Instead, I keep running down the stairs as I open the front door and sprint as fast as I can out the front door and down the sidewalk.

My heart beats out of my chest as I run as fast as I can towards my house.

I get there safely and rush inside, immediately shutting and locking the door behind me.

I sigh in relief as I lean against the wall and take a few deep breaths.

After I’ve calmed down a bit I stand up from against the door. I look around and notice my parents aren’t home yet so I head to my room.

My mind is racing as I realize what just happened. I’ve just escaped from Naomi who planned to sacrifice me in order to summon a demon.

I’m lucky to be alive, and it was pure luck that I happened to slip away. That weird static feeling in the air gave me enough courage to try and create enough space between us for me to run.

I can’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort knowing that the static feeling seemed to have given me some courage to make a break for it.

It’s like something was watching over me in that moment. Whether is was a good or bad something I couldn't care less.

I then remembered I swiped her book earlier. I immediately put my backpack on my bed and pulled out the book.

I flip through the pages, looking for anything that could give me a better idea of what kind of ritual Naomi was planning.

It’s clear it was some sort of demon summoning ritual, but I’m still anxious about what the book has to say about it.

Instead, I feel that static presence once more and before I know it I’ve flipped to the page about the radio demon.

The moment my eyes read the words “The radio demon,” I can feel my heart stop in my chest.

The static feeling in the air intensifies, making the words on the page almost glow. My mind becomes fuzzy while my body remains motionless as I try to process all of this.

I skim over the different sections describing the many reasons people try to summon the radio demon. Some of them are more selfish while others are more selfless.

The section on revenge catches my attention as I imagine getting revenge against Naomi.

It explains that one of the perks of summoning the radio demon is having the ability to exact revenge on those who have wronged you.

The exact method of how to summon him isn’t too complicated and only requires a few items, all of which I’ve got in my room.

I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t try this just for… fuck it I think. “What’s the worst that could happen?” I mock her earlier words.

“Alright. Two can play this game Naomi .” I mutter as I go around my room collecting the materials needed to summon the demon.

By the time I’ve gotten all the items set up, J can’t help but feel nervous.

What if this actually works? What if some kind of demon really shows up in my bedroom?

I feel the static presence in the air get stronger, almost as if something is reassuring me that I’m doing the right thing.

The static presence grows stronger but also warmer as it blankets over my body. The longer I stand in it, the more comfortable I feel.

That’s when my brain starts to wander with questions. What exactly will the demon do once it’s summoned? Will it just stand in my room or will it make itself home in my room?

I can’t help but feel the urge to summon him as the static starts to comfort me. As the static presence continues to grow the urge becomes stronger.

My body feels at ease and any worry or doubts I had start to diminish with every breath.

I begin to recite the words written in the book as the static grows even more.

As I continue to speak I start to hear whispers. Whispers that sound as though they are being transmitted through an old-fashioned radio.

I can barely make out any words from the whispers. They just sound like incomprehensible murmurs.

I close my eyes as I continue. As I finish speaking I keep my eyes closed and I can feel the static in the air. It’s so strong that it makes me think the static has formed itself into an actual presence.

“Well hello there dear. you’ve had an interesting day have you not?” A voice says in front of me.

My eyes snap open at the voice and I see a man, no a demon, in front of me.

He is dressed in a red and black outfit that looks like it’s from the 30’s with a cane that has a microphone attached to it.

He also has deer antlers attached to his head along with a monocle on his face.

He leans into the small microphone attached to his cane as he raises an eyebrow. “You know, I’m not that used to getting summoned by a young lady like you, but I must say your reasons for summoning me are certainly… interesting.”

He notices my stunned expression and lets out a hearty chuckle. “I take it this is your first time trying to summon a demon? And to think that you did it to get revenge on that Naomi girl. Very interesting indeed.”

I gain some of my courage back and speak up. “How did you know I wanted to get revenge on her?”

He smiles as he leans in closer to me, his voice a low hum as he answers. “I knew the moment you started the ritual. Those words of revenge are exactly the reason I answered your call. Revenge is one of my specialties, after all.”

I take in his features some more as he leans towards me and I feel my face flush. For a demon he’s not bad to look at.

My face flushes more as I process that thought. Something is definitely wrong with me to be thinking that.

He takes notice of the blush on my cheeks and raises an eyebrow curiously. However, he doesn’t speak up about it and instead continues to speak.

“And to think, all you wanted was to take revenge on dear little Naomi. What did you plan to do? Stab her?” I shrug and I glance away.

“I figured you’d just have a plan.” I mumble slightly embarrassed that I didn’t think this all the way through.

He nods as he looks me over momentarily. “Of course I have a plan. I’ve been doing this for quite some time now.”

He pauses for a moment. “So, are you ready to go and get your revenge? All you have to do is sit back and let me take care of the rest.”

I nod and his grin widens making the static feeling in the room intensify. “So it’s a deal then little deer?” He asks, extending out his hand to me.

I look down to his outstretched hand and feel myself hesitate despite wanting to take it.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that I’m actually making a deal with a demon. Like this is actually happening and I’m not just dreaming it.

On the other hand, he seems fairly well-mannered and he did promise to take care of the entire thing. Plus, that voice of his is quite hypnotic.

I grab his hand and shake it. “It’s a deal.” A laugh track starts to play from his microphone and a chill goes up my spine.

I look at him straight in the eyes before the room starts to spin and I feel myself blackout.

─── ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ───

As I regain consciousness the first thing I notice is the blood on my hands and a static feeling in the air.

I hear a laugh track play from behind me and as I turn around I’m greeted with by the radio demon’s eyes.

“You did a wonderful job my little deer. Not the cleanest job but a wonderful job nonetheless.” He says while gesturing to Naomi’s lifeless body in front of my feet.

I realize what the blood on my hands means as I see Naomi’s lifeless body as I look down towards the ground. She appears to be lifeless and unmoving, not even seeming to breathe.

I start to take shallow breaths as my body shakes. “We need to…” I begin before taking a shaky breath. “We need to clean this up. Hide this-”

I don’t want to get caught. I don’t want anyone to find out I think as I am still shaking.

You can hear him chuckling softly in the background. “Relax my little deer, nobody will be finding this body anytime soon.”

He looks around and I can see his eyes shine as a thought comes to his mind. “Besides, we’ve got bigger plans to take care of now.”

“And those plans are?” I ask barely above a whisper. This causes his grin to widen.

“Why what I shall do with your soul of course.” He chuckles as I stare at him wide eyed.

“That’s exactly right my little deer. You summoned me and made a deal with me, and the moment I completed your little revenge the deal became sealed.”

He leans into his microphone as if he was addressing a crowded room of people. “The contract is signed, now all I need to do is collect my prize.”

My mind races on what he could mean by that. Is he going to kill me? Will he just take control of my body?

He chuckles as he reads the look on my face. “I know you’re thinking a million things right now. How about I get rid of that uncertainty for you and just get straight to the point.”

I gulp as I just continue to stare at him. “You’re an interesting one. So, I shall let you live out the rest of your human life.”

He pauses as more static fills the room. “However, the moment you die and come to Hell you are mine. Your soul is mine. And I will be able to control you like a pawn whenever I please.”

His voice shifts to more of a demonic tone as he finishes speaking. While I know I should be utterly terrified and live the rest of my life in unresting fear all I can think about is how I wouldn’t mind being a pawn to him.

I have a feeling this won’t be the last I see of him before I eventually end up in Hell.

His grin grows wider as he senses that I’m not feeling as frightened as most people usually are when confronting a demon.

Instead, it seems to him I’m enamored even. “I must say, my little deer, you aren’t like anything I’ve seen before.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #pre hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor imagine #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #x reader #x you #x y/n #reader imagine #reader insert #reader input #romance #tw murder #attempted murder #eventual romance

[kneelingshadowsalome]

i'm not sure if that's true but i've seen somewhere that bunnies can symbolise fake innocence so...,.,.. (also im so sorry this is so long :,))) )

idk maybe just the image of women in könig's head seems to be something similar? they're sweet and helpless and need someone bigger to protect them. in that way they hold more power - no one ever assumes that a woman could be cruel or downright evil.

and so does könig, even though it's almost a conscious choice to him. he'll let women use him and manipulate him so long as he gets the privilege of being approached by them first despite being visibly much bigger and stronger. and that also being exactly the same as people feeling special when someone's pet likes them, especially cats (usually very distant and seemingly unaffectionate) or bunnies (again, easily scared and also distant in their own way) 🥲

(and speaking of this. i keep thinking about an au where. idk how but reader and köni simply go to the same church (possibly with their families) and he sees her as this sweet innocent girl and their families know each other so well and his parents love her but she turns out to be the one who shows him that sex outside of marriage is actually very fun and so is witchcraft lmao 😭 im sorry)

I’m so into the whole bunny thing, esp after what Orla & Syl (@/konigsblog and @/comfortless) just posted…….

I'm 110% sure that König gets both protective and predatory over someone (seemingly) innocent and meek, he's drawn to her like a bee to honey. His mind and soul and hands are so dirty that he seeks redemption through protecting this adorable little woman who reminds him of a helpless pet. He wants to feed and protect and stroke her, make her love him and only him, with her, he becomes the epitome of a pick me boy. He just wants her to be his little bunny girl, let him scratch her from behind the ear or some place else...

And our shy but endearing bunny babe doesn’t dare to tell this big, affectionate giant that he’s trying to make it look like she’s the dumb, clueless one in this scenario when in reality, König is the one who’s on a leash here... Poor guy! With every little wink of her imaginary tail, she gets him to do whatever she wants: manipulating this big dork is laughably easy. Not that she wants him harm, but who wouldn’t want to play cat and mouse with someone who’s basically asking for it? She can provide him the rush of the chase he so seeks, just a small bite of her lip makes this poor man hot and bothered already.

König always apologizes for getting carried away, for being a little too rough with her when he kisses her raw and gets a little handsy. He doesn’t want to seem demanding or coercive: but she’s just so sweet that he can’t take it… He's about to cry and wank and crumble during his pathetic confessions to her, only she can grant him mercy, always being so lenient with his heated advances. He's just a weak man, she's too good for him, bla bla bla – she pets his head while he sighs in her tits, hard again after just cuddling her.

They have to wait until marriage, that's what he always pants when hovering above her, so hard she can feel his whole cock through her dress. She’s going to make a grown man cry soon with those vein-popping boners she gives him, and the hardest part is to stifle her giggles at how easy it is to tease this poor guy... König doesn’t even know that she’s not that innocent, far from a virgin actually with how she’s fantasizing about him every night with her 6” dong with suction cup. One time he almost caught her playing with herself when he came rushing back to her room after forgetting some godforsaken book there...

#torturing könig #again! yay! #it's like free therapy #könig x “christian” bunny girl #answered

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i had a worm wiggle it's way into my head when 'work song' came on on my way home today.

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,949 | rated: T

cw: major character death (no gore, nothing descriptive, though it's stated that Eddie was sick and getting weaker, then implied that he dies.)

Eddie Munson’s mother was a witch.

He didn’t know this until he was stricken with the same sickness that took her from him years and years before, but he knows now.

He knows from the small chest he found buried deep in his and his Uncle’s attic one day after learning of his ailment, and the handful of months he should expect to have left, from the local doctor. 

The chest was brimming with scrolls, tomes, candles, stones, herbs, vials, even a small pewter cauldron.

“I shoulda known,” was all Wayne had said, heeding Eddie’s beckoning call that hazy afternoon. 

Eddie sorted through everything he had found; spending hours every day flipping through each book and journal, deciphering his mother’s handwriting and the spells she had inscribed onto the pages. 

He even started to try a few; his mother’s ‘powers’, per sae, had come from the earth around her, writing in the largest, most disheveled of the journals that all she had needed to do was to listen to Mother Earth herself, listen to what she had to tell her.

So, Eddie practiced.

Small things at first, like seamlessly re-attaching the snipped off head of a daisy back to it’s stem, snipping it off again only to regrow an identical one in it’s place. Even starting a broken branch of the pine outside the Munson home on it’s way to a new green version of what was lost.

Eddie counted himself very lucky that Wayne was not one to believe the church’s nearly unhinged ramblings about witchcraft being the work of the Devil, and let Eddie practice a couple of the other simpler things on him.

“Jus’ don’t go thinkin’ I’mma let you chop my head off, boy.”

Wayne’s body aching from following their ox around all day with the plow? “Here, drink this, it should help.” It did.

Couple of Wayne’s fingers get snapped under the same ox’s hoof? A little harder, but he managed; the digits sore and achy that night, but good as new come morning.

“There a hair spell in that book, Ed?” Wayne joked one morning over breakfast, a good three quarters of the way through the six months the doctor gave Eddie, and a couple after finding Maggie Munson’s secret.

“Hmmmm….I dunno Uncle Wayne,” Eddie flips through his journal absently, “I think a Get Your Hair Back spell is too close to a love charm to work right. You could end up with hair all over your body and not just on that beautiful, shiny, head o’yours.”

“Love spells are touchy,” Maggie’s journal had said, “There are a rumored few that work, but only for the truest forms. I’ve tried some simple potions and charms…Al still left..and if they didn’t work…” the rest was easily filled in. 

“Oh yeah? Then how's about a Cure What Ails Ya spell? Got one’a those in that there book?”

“Why? You feeling sick, Wayne?” Eddie half-jokes, trying to veer away from having this conversation with Wayne again.

Wayne’s quiet as Eddie focuses intently on the book infront of him, trying, and failing, to scoop up a bite of egg onto his fork without looking away.

“Ed,” his uncle starts, soft and pleading once again, “Is there really nothin’ that can help ya?”

Eddie huffs, dropping his fork onto his plate and pushing it and the journal away from him. Definitely something a younger boy would do, not the nearly 25 he is now. “Why don’t you give them a look, huh? ‘Cause I already have.”

“Ed–”

He snaps his head up to glare at the older man. “What is it Wayne? What?” Eddie snatches the journal back up off the table without looking. “I’ve looked okay? Through Mom’s and through every damn book in that attic. And there was nothing. Nothing! You think she would’ve left if there was?” He stands sharply, knocking the small faded blue table away as he does. “Would’ve left m—”

His free hand wraps around his middle, nausea and the spins taking him for a ride a the sudden movement.

“Hey, Hey, sit back down son.” Wayne stands as well, coaxing him back into his chair. 

The nausea spells have become more frequent, the dizziness even more so, as the months have worn on, so Wayne ties up Eddie’s hair (growing thinner by the day), walks the short few steps to the pitcher of water he’d pulled from the well that morning, and pours some into a bowl, grabbing a clean(-ish) rag on his way back. 

Wayne smoothes the cool damp rag over Eddie’s face and neck, slowly and deliberately until the nauseous feeling passes.

“‘M sorry, Uncle Wayne, I know you’re just worried.”

“It’s alrigh’ boy, I shouldn’t’a pushed.”

“I’m still doing better than most,” Eddie says, voice tilting up at the end, “I think it’s ‘cause of the magic.”

“Thoughtcha said there wasn’t no cure in that book.” Wayne states, moving to empty the bowl. 

“There’s not,” Eddie closes his eyes, relaxes back into his chair. “Doc thinks Ms. Wilson had the same as me and Ma, and you saw how quick it took her.”

“Mrs. Wilson was nearly 70, Ed.”

“Then how about that boy Carver? He was my age, and Doc gave him six when he came down with it too, was gone in two.”

Wayne shrugs, “The devil wanted him back sooner.”

Eddie barks out a laugh, lifting his head to catch a glimpse of his Uncle’s ‘desperately-trying-to-hide-his-smile’ smile.

Wayne jokes, but Eddie’s been contemplating this for a while now. When he had hit his second month, he was about the same as he was, steadily growing weaker, as what was expected, but nothing like how Ms. Wilson and Jason had looked in theirs. 

Hell, Jason had worked on the docks with Eddie since they were boys; both fit and lean, healthy young men with the musculature to show for their work.

That was when he’d found his mom’s books, and ever since, his health had slowed to a crawl. 

“I think using mom’s magic is helping me.”

Wayne is quiet, cleaning their plates from the table and dumbing the leftover eggs out the window to the pigs. 

“I think it’s your magic now, Eds.”

—---

And so it went.

Eddie’s given six months turned into a year, his magic growing from healing fingerbones, to mending their ox’s broken femur with ease. 

His year didn’t come without worsening symptoms though, and his previously well filled out overalls hung loose around him, his calves barely filling out the tops of his boots tied all the way tight. 

Wayne always kept the faith, so to speak, not a religious man by nature, but Eddie could hear him sometimes in the early morning and late night praying to “Whoever’s got their ears on up there,” to keep Eddie safe, to keep him in their sights when the time came. 

Eddie had been doing work of his own, too. Writing down anything new he found out while sitting with the Earth, listening, watching….

Mother told him through the whispers of the trees, the soft humming of the grass, that he’d know when it was time. 

And that time was within the next few days. 

He felt it in his bones, he felt it in the air when Wayne passed him his birthday gift (a flaky scone with the biggest chunks of chocolate in town, an amazing treat he got once a year) on the morning of his 25th year, he felt it in the very ground he walked on…

He was ready, though he did harbor one regret. One thing he knew he missed out on.

He’d never fallen in love.

Over his last year, Eddie would sit with Mother; amongst the trees, lain back in the field of grass on the hill behind their house, and tell her about them. 

The ‘they’ that he’d likely never meet, the they that would love him for nothing but his love in return. 

Nothing was ever specific, only the vaguest feelings he’d get about them, about the way they’d love, the humor they’d possess, the love for Eddie’s stories they’d have.

And every time he’d speak of them, Eddie’d leave with something that he didn’t realize he had picked up until he was nearly back home. 

A chain of daisies Wayne had plucked from atop his head when he sat down for dinner, a scrap of dark blue fabric he’d found walking through town, a bouquet of bright yellow daffodils, the tiny sun bleached skull of a bat.

And he’d write. Over and over, never quite getting it right, but there was something he knew he needed to get out of his very being before he left for good. Something that felt like a promise.

–

The morning came, and Eddie awoke to a silent house. 

Wayne out on the fields already, most likely out helping the folks on either side of them with whatever they needed doing, with only the hens’ clucks and pigs’ snorts keeping him company with the calls from the birds in the trees. 

Eddie got up, slow as slow could be, got himself into his clothes, shuffled down the hall to the kitchen to their small blue table, tore out a blank page of his mother’s notebook and wrote.

Pouring all of what remained within him, Eddie thought of the Earth, of his mom, of Uncle Wayne, and them. His unknown love.

-x-X-x-

Steve Harrington’s mother was not a witch.

But for the last few years, he’s had a suspicion that his Grandmother is.

Everyone says that their food tastes so good because “It’s made with love!”,  but with Mama Harrington, it was real. The love and intent she imbued into her meals was there. And she could cure any ailment.

She would always go on and on about the importance of food, each recipe’s ingredients’ healing powers, and of the recipes and their stories that had been passed down through the years from her mother, and her mother’s mother, all the way to now, where they ended up in a cookbook that’d gone untouched since it was given to Steve’s mother in the late 60’s.

“A gift! Unused for so many years, Steven!”

“I know, Mama,” he nods again, dropping some green something into the pot of sauce bubbling on the stove. “Almost 25 years.”

“Aye! You have catching up to do.” she says, shaking a thick wooden spoon at him.

“Me?” he scoffs, “I don’t know the first thing about cooking, Mama!” Baking? He’d hold his own. Cooking? If his grandmother wasn’t there to help him of on the phone to guide him through a recipe? Kitchen would go up in flames.

“Bah! Watch closely, dear.” she says, shuffling to the pot that stands nearly as tall as her where it’s perched on the stovetop. “It is always your intent behind what you are cooking. You can make anything be anything as long as the intent is there.”

“Even eggs?”

She nods, her nearly fully white bun flopping back and forth on top of her head. “Even just eggs.”

“So if I want a carbonara to help get my friend a passing grade?” he asks, incredulous, but immediately thinking of Robin, who’s coming up on her finals in a couple months (for her doctorate! A PhD! Can you believe that!).

“The intent! Put it into the eggs, into the pasta, I don’t care! But make it for That!”

She throws a concerningly large handful of pepper into the pot on the stove, and gives it a stir.

“Now, this is my Mama’s recipe, and it will help your Pa’s back.”

“How so?”

“Because I told it to,” she growls, glaring at the pot and raising her spoon as if she was going to smack some sense into it.

“Alright, Mama,” Steve chuckles, “What do you need me to do?”

He spends the next hour helping his grandma roll out some of her premade dough for some fettuccine looking noodles, grabbing a wrapped up blob “from the top shelf, Steven. That’s the stuff I made for you.”. 

He rolls, folds, and cuts it as he’s told, then goes to pick Robin up from campus while she finishes everything.

“It won’t take long now, dear, and you shouldn’t either.” Mama scolds, waving her spoon around once again.

“Got it, Mama, be back soon.” He slips on his shoes, looks in on his grandpa in the living room as he passes, grinning at the loud snores he hears from the direction of Pa’s recliner, and slips out the front door to his car. 

In no time, he’s picked up Robin, stopped for a movie from Blockbuster, and is home to the smell of fresh bread.

“We’re home Mama!”

“I’m just setting the table, grab your Pa!”

“Come on Pa, Mama’s got some pasta for you.” Steve says, coaxing his grandfather out of the chair and into his slippers. 

“Ah, perfect, my back’s been real achy lately.”

“That’s ‘cause you sleep in the recliner, Mr. Harrington.”

“How many times do we gotta tell you, Robin? Just call us Ma and Pa.”

Robin plops down in her designated spot across from Ma, “Hey, you should get used to it now; Once I finally get up the nerve to Chrissy out, she’ll come over here all “Mr. Harrington” this and “Mrs. Harrington” that.

“And how’s that coming, Bobs?” Steve asks her, sitting down beside his grandma and immediately passing the plate of bread across the table to Robin’s waiting hands. 

She starts going off at a million miles a minute about her longest standing crush, while Steve shares a look with his grandma, both smirking conspiratorially as Robin takes a bite of the bread.

That’d been Steve’s suggestion, a bread imbued with luck.

It wasn’t a “Love Spell”, Mama said there was none in existence that were worth the pain. But the minimal luck that she had sown before into countless baked goods (especially near February), have had a surprisingly great track record.

With everyone but Steve.

She couldn’t quite figure out what it was that kept him from getting the benefits too, every time she had tried, they had tried, it was an astounding failure. 

First with Tommy Hagan, the carrot cake cookies Steve had presented him with as a special birthday treat back in middle school ended with two missing front teeth and a broken arm.

Then again without even thinking about it, he’d added some luck and hope to homemade chicken pot pies he’d whipped up when he and Nancy were on the rocks. 

It had somewhat worked with Billy Hargrove, but that one hadn’t even been intentional, and he shudders to think about it to this day.

“I don’t know my dearest, maybe it is because you are already tied to someone else?” She had said after her tried and true pot pie recipe failed.

“But it didn’t even work with the one I was already with!” he yelled, sighing deep and pinching the tears away from the bridge of his nose. “She jumped right into Byers’ arms.”

Mama had just given him a pitying look, which was worse, honestly.

Now, he stays far away from any of Mama’s lucky foods, especially with the weird twisting feeling he had gotten the few times he’d tried over the years after leaving Hawkins.

He and Robin came up to Indy for Robin to go to U of I, a year after she graduated, and when Steve was fired from the job that had been paying the majority of their apartment's rent when he was spotted kissing his then boyfriend by his manager….they came to live with Steve’s grandparents, taking to them both with open arms and hearts.

He comes back to the present when his third bite of pasta clears away the last of his headache.

Steve shoots his grandma a knowing look, which she ignores with a sip of wine. 

–

They’re nearly finished with dinner when it happens.

Steve’s listening intently to a story Pa is telling them, something he’s sure he’s hears a dozen times before, when he absentmidedly picks up, then takes a bite of the bread Ma made for Robin.

It’s more than he’s ever felt before.

In the past, whenever Steve’s tried to gain some luck in love, he’s been inundated with flashes, feelings, words, a warmth in his bones that he’s wanted to hold onto forever. 

The feelings grew stronger the older he got, and now, Steve finds himself sitting on a rolling grassy hill. 

It’s not a flash of a vision like before, he’s sitting in the tall soft grass, and his hands are already making a chain of daisies. Nearly done, in fact. 

He finishes it off, turns it around in his hands, then when he goes to put it on…

He’s back at the table with his family, the slice of bread in his hand, and Pa still telling his story.

Steve jumps up, startling the other three, and beelines it to the kitchen, flinging open drawers, searching for just a damn scrap of paper. 

Mama follows him, “Steve, the bread?”

“I was on a hill, chaining daisies, and now I have to get these words out.” He probably doesn't make a lick of sense, but he doesn’t want to lose them.

Suddenly, a pad of paper and pen are passed into his line of sight. He snatches them up, and starts scribbling down as much as he can.

He and Mama stare down at the words on the page. 

“Mama, what is this?”

She is silent for a handful of breaths.

“This is why the luck never worked.”

now with a part 2!

also: i don’t know the first thing about being a witch or anything of the sort, nor do i know anything but the basics about cooking; hope im not way way off on anything!!! this is all in fun 😅

#eddie is living in a non-specified olden times #and steve is post-canon about to turn 25 so it's 1992 for him and robin #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #witch!eddie #witch!steve #work song #hozier #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #st #wayne munson #robin buckley #noelle writes #it is nearly 11 pm and this looks good but i will probably find problems with it in the morning #if you see typos no you don't

[imdead770]

anything for Luke and a daughter of hecate, ANYTHING FOR THEM......

had to do my research for this one

for context Hecate is the goddess of witchcraft, magic, ghosts, stuff like that. There's probably more but that's what I got from my one minute google search

I kept this kind of fluffy because I wanted to switch it up, I hope that's okay! If you want smut feel free to request again 🩷

Enjoy!

Luke didn't known much about your mother, most people didn't. She was one of the smaller goddesses. Well, not small, she just wasn't as well known as Athena or Aphrodite. He had heard her name a few times around camp, not thinking much of it. He didn't pay much attention to the name until he realized your own name was associated with it. Whenever you came to camp, eventually getting claimed by Hecate, he started to do his research. He started listening if one of the counselors talked about her or reading more thoroughly if he saw her name in a book. He wanted to learn more about her for one reason; to get closer to you.

Once he learned more about her, he started seeing the resemblances between the two of you. Your long, silky dark hair was exactly how some book described your mother, as well as your overall beauty. If Hecate hadn't of claimed you, it probably would have been Aphrodite. It also made sense why you and some of the Hades' kids were close, you were all connected to the dead. Another thing that made you alike, you were magical. Something about you almost made him feel as if he was put under some sort of spell. Every time you walked into a room, smiling and laughing, it was as if you enchanted him. Every time he was the cause of your laughter, he would melt, almost as if you had cursed him to fall in love with you.

He didn't know how, but your godly parent eventually came up in a conversation. And God's had he prepared for this moment.

"Yeah, she can control ghosts and magic n' all that, right?"

All of that research was worth it. The way you looked at him, your face holding one of your signature, beautiful smiles.

"Yeah... she can. How'd you know that?"

"Uh... I dunno, I've just always found her interesting."

He managed to get out that excuse, you seemed to believe it. Your smile only grew, sending butterflies into his stomach again.

As the two of you kept talking, your mother fading away and the conversation becoming more natural, he was all smiles. He was smiling for a few reasons. One being that he was proud of himself for being productive and learning about your mother. The main reason, though, was you. How your lips moved when you talked, your sing-songy voice leaving them as you joked around with him. He hadn't realized he was starring until you pointed it out.

"Luke? Are you okay? You're like zoning out or something."

"Hm?"

He forced himself to look away from your gorgeous smile, meeting your eyes. They looked stunning. The light hit them perfectly, giving them a magical glow as if your mother was casting a spell from Olympus. As if she and Aphrodite were cursing him to fall head over heels in love and not have a single say in it. Once again he was zoning out, gazing into your eyes like a lovestruck fool. He could've mustered up another excuse if he kept his mouth shut. That only confirmed his theory of being cursed.

"You have really pretty eyes, yknow.."

Shit. He didn't even mean to say that, the words just left his lips. Your mother must've hated him. He wanted to go and dive off the dock and never come back up for air. He was about to go do so until you spoke again.

"Yeah..?"

Since he had been looking down like a flustered idiot, he hadn't noticed the way your smile grew after his words. He hadn't noticed the way your eyes lit up, nor the way you were blushing yourself. Not as badly as him, but you were still blushing.

"..Yeah."

He looked back up to meet your eyes again, finally noticing how your smile became a grin. He couldn't help but mimic the expression, it was infectious.

He didn't notice how you had scooted closer, bit he did notice how you leaned in. He noticed how your beautiful eyes softly closed, and he especially noticed how your lips met his. It all happened so fast, but Gods.. it was magical.

#luke castellan #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #pjo series #fluff #luke #luke castellan imagines #200 #300

[mandareeboo]

Things I’ve noticed while re-watching Owl House:

Eda’s been living on borrowed time since season 1. She thought she was going to disappear on that bridge, and she certainly didn’t expect to have her time non-feathered to be doubled. That (and other things) has led her to be much more willing to die in season 2- she isn’t running anymore, but she’s not fighting much either. She plans to go out with Raine. She plans to hand herself over to the Emperor. She plans to die on the Day of Unity with Lilith as long as King and Luz are far, far away. Finally she plans to die in front of the entire city of Bonesborough to give Luz and King a better future

Eda put a LOT of work into being Luz’s mentor. It’s not really mentioned but in episode four she states that she “hasn’t figured out how old Witches performed magic”, but in Adventures in the Elements she has a whole training itinerary planned around elements and how connecting was/is important to old Witches. We also see she had a GIANT stack of overdue library books. I’m willing to bet she put a lot of time and reading into helping Luz with her glyphs.

Luz probably overheard Camila’s statement about Vee being “such a strong girl” and may have been somewhat hurt bc Camila implied she’d not had that before. It’s not intentional on Camila’s part but we all know Luz goes the extra mile to feel ashamed.

Even though Hunter tells Luz to stop messaging him he still apologizes when he sends her a photo of Flapjack. Idk I just think that’s polite and cute.

Of the covens we know the least about Construction magic. With Oracles we at least know about their mummy things they bring out. All we know about Construction is power glyphs and that they seem to almost earthbend

If Alador hasn’t had a day off in five years but has only recently stopped talking to the kids bc of the Abomatons that implies he was still socially active in their lives to some degree.

Belos saying Hunter looked the most like his brother while also having given him that big fuck off cheek scar makes me feel like at one point he really hated that and tried to “change” it

Luz and Hunter are the only characters in the show to have had any prolonged discussions with Belos. Even Kiki only got a few orders and jabs and that’s it. Just a subtle bit of his distaste for Witches even today.

Likewise Luz and Hunter both share the common denominator of being scarred by Belos

Even though Boscha keeps her word not to outright bully the gang after losing in Grudgby she still keeps surprisingly intertwined in their day-to-day lives, even stopping by Luz’s club to pester her AND seeming to be legitimately interested in Luz’s life goals. I feel like in Boscha’s mind she sees it as like. Rival pals.

Despite being a giant bigot Belos still called Kikimora “Kiki” once or twice. It literally doesn’t matter I just find it hilarious. “I hate Witches and witchcraft but I draw the line on not using nicknames.”

Considering King didn’t live in his hatching place OR have the engraving on his collar for like eight years of his life if the Collector hadn’t been busy with Belos he likely would’ve found him instantly with the wanted posters

Lilith saw Eda as “dangerous” and “misguided” and I think a lot of that drew back to when she witnessed the Owl Beast attack and permanently disable their father

Raine only knew Eda for like seven months before she became cursed. They’ve literally known her for most of her life but almost all of that time came from after that point. Idk I just think it’s interesting bc Eda always saw her curse as a burden but to Raine it’d been part of her life so long they probably feel like it’s just... her.

The Day of Unity had basically nothing to do with Phillip going home, it was just a “fuck you all and die” as he left.

I feel like no one really talks about this but Gwendolyn and Dell are Wild Witches. Yes they're both in covens but Dell is secretly regrowing damage done by Belos and Gwen seeks outside-coven help AND steals magic artifacts to try to heal Eda, like none of this is legal

Also I feel like no one talks about how the pain sharing spell and the fist raising Eda and Lily do as kids is probably Wild in origin. No one else uses verbal spells and we've seen organized witches duels today and they don't do that gesture.

Vee is a very quiet and easily panicked girl and while that's perfectly natural after all she's been through when 'Luz' came back from camp Camila probably assumed the worst

Unless we get a flashback to King’s dad or a flash-forward to grown-up King we will never see a grown living Titan.

#The Owl House #TOH Analysis #Eda Clawthorne #Luz Noceda #Camila Noceda #Vee Noceda #The Golden Guard #Alador Blight #Emperor Belos #Boscha #Kikimora #King Clawthorne #Lilith Clawthorne #Gwendolyn Clawthorne #Dell Clawthorne #Falc talks

[incorrect-soc]

Godly Parents: SoC edition

(Lil disclaimer: This is not necessarily PJO's meaning of Godly Parent. It's just basically a "Which God is your godly parent" buzzfeed quiz but with actual information-)

Kaz: Nemesis, Goddess of indignation against, and retribution for, evil deeds and undeserved good fortune. Kaz spent the entire two books and the bigger part of his life holding grudges and planning his revenge on an arrogant man who got away with destroying a bunch of people's lives. He makes it his life mission to make him pay for his crimes.

Inej: Hermes, Messenger of the gods; god of travel, commerce, communication, borders, eloquence, diplomacy and thieves. First of all, Inej is Suli. Suli people are known to be "nomads", travelling from place to place. Second, Kaz hired her to be his spider, to collect and deliver important information, a messenger of some kind. And a detail I particularly liked is the whole thing with the shoes. Hermes most characteristic item are his flying sandals; and Inej is also particularly fond of her climbing leather slippers.

Jesper: Hephaestus, God of the forge, craftsmanship, invention, fire, metallurgy and volcanoes, craftsman of the gods. Yeah, yeah. The obvious reason is in fact because Jesper is a Fabrikator. He literally controls metal. If it's parental issues we're talking about, well, we all know how that went for both of them.

Wylan: Apollo, God of Sun, light, prophecy, philosophy, archery, truth, inspiration, poetry, music, arts, manly beauty, medicine, healing, and plague. "Because of Wylan Van Suns-?" *slap* Shut up, that was literally sarcasm. Wylan's story and latter fate begins because of a music conservatory, and music really played such a big part in his own story as well as his story with Jesper (ehem, piano incident). Also, bit of a fun fact, Apollo is supposedly the creator of the flute so there you go. Another literal thing is that he created a fake plague to help Kaz.

Nina: Hecate, Goddess of the dead's souls, witchcraft and divination. (Matthias would be so happy for the whole witchcraft thing). I don't think I have to elaborate on this one, but just a reminder that Nina can in fact control dead bodies.

Matthias: Hestia, Goddess of the hearth, fire and of the right ordering of domesticity and the family. *Introduces really gut-wrenching line from chapter 40 of Crooked Kingdom about how he finally could go back home*. I know it's kinda ironic that Matthias is from an icy country and Hestia is the Goddess of the fire, but no one said this was a perfect analysis (do I look like Rick Riordan to you?). Matthias was all about family values and homeland really, even if they meant different things at the beginning and at the end of Matthias' story. First it was his bio family, whose death ignited his hatred for the Grisha and his home was Fjerda. But in the end, the Crows became his family, the family he gave his life for, the same way Nina became his home.

#I really gave my all to make the Matthias one as depressing as possible #some of them are meant to be literal guys so don't be pressed #six of crows #shadow and bone #soc #the crows #crow club #sab #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #greek mythology

[traegorn]

The uselessness of Witchcraft Author "Blacklists"

Every once and a while I see a "Witchcraft Author Blacklist" either in the tags or getting passed around here on Tumblr, and never in my life have I thought it was a remotely useful thing.

Because every single time, they lack and semblance of nuance. Like yesterday I ran across one that literally equated Scott Cunningham with Stephen Flowers. Yes, Cunningham, a person who wrote some things that need to be read critically is, apparently, as bad as a literal fucking Nazi whose books help fund the AFA.

Like are there Cunningham books I wouldn't recommend? Absolutely. Should most of his works be read with a critical eye and take into account the state of the community and available information when he was writing them? Yes. But... like... there's a huge fucking difference between these two things.

Also, this list claimed because Cunningham wrote about Wicca his works were somehow homophobic. Have there been homophobic Wiccans? Of course - but Cunningham, an openly gay man, was not one of them.

Additionally, there are people who get included on these lists where I wouldn't recommend anyone read their books to learn witchcraft per se, but their works have important historical significance.

Like Gerald Gardner - should anyone learn from Gardner? Fuck no. His works are full of misinformation and outright bullshit. But it literally is where the modern witchcraft movement was birthed, so there is value in understanding where we came from.

Aleister Crowley falls into this category too - harder even. Crowley was gross as heck, but how can you understand what in the modern community is still descended from his works or propagating his gross ideas... if you're unfamiliar with his works?

Also, he's super dead, so it's not like he's benefiting from someone reading his stuff.

It's just so deeply frustrating that people make these lists to start with. Like, I have written or talked about how certain authors should be avoided -- but I always do my best to include context, reasons, and explanations why. I will specifically explain why I don't think they're valuable to read. Making a laundry list where you make unsourced or unexplained claims about a huge list of people doesn't help someone understand what might be wrong with them.

Also, my recommendations are usually about how a new witch shouldn't read their work, because it's about not having the experience to see what is and isn't bullshit in what they read yet. They don't have that baseline yet. That doesn't mean that some of these books might not be significant or worth reading at some point in their journey. Just not at the start of it.

It's just... a complete lack of nuance. Like I don't recommend Silver Ravenwolf because her books are, frankly, poorly researched and bad. I don't recommend Stephen Flowers because he's a fuckin' overt WHITE SUPREMACIST whose publications have been used to fund the AFA. These are not the same. When we pretend that they are, we are doing a massive disservice to all of us.

It... it honestly feels like Christian purity culture repackaged. If you can't handle nuance, I don't think you can really handle that much witchcraft to start with. The world isn't black and white -- there are overt evils out there, but most everything else is a shade of gray and pretending otherwise is poisonous.

#witchcraft #witchblr #beginner witch #baby witch #blacklists #wicca