#midday coven

[qursidae]

Pride familiars for my witches (: Happy pride 🏳️‍🌈

[Carrd 🃏]

#pride #pride 2023 #pride art #lgbt art #midday coven #familiars #wicca #witch #familiar owners in order !; Hella - Sahar - Jenny - Qura - Laura - Ophelia #oc #ocs #wokring on their names as well ! Lauras raccoon is called chouquette #raccoon #fennec fox #golden retriever #red panda #coati #corn snake #oh to be in this pride piece and be an animal with a striped tail lmao

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

The Art of Failing [1]

Werewolf!Joel Miller x F!Reader, Vampire!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Warnings: violence and mild gore, mentions of blood and injures, reader is described as active and able to fight, eventual smut, loss of a child, angst to fluff, more warnings to come based on individual chapters

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, self doubt, mentions of blood

Word Count: 10,360

Summary: The Division of Mythological Affairs was created to protect and serve the supernatural community while keeping the knowledge of their existence a secret. You hoped to become an Agent of the DMA like your mother before you. Just as your dream begins to fall apart at the seams, you stumble across a missing persons report that could change everything. You are desperate to solve the case, to prove your ability, and you find yourself with unlikely allies⏤ a werewolf running from his pack and a vampire shunned from his coven. The stakes are high, lives are at risk, and success hinges on the three of you learning to work together.

[a/n: it's here!! i'm so excited to officially share this because it was so much fun to write and i'm even more excited to show y'all the rest]

MIDDAY MADNESS

"failure does not mean your life is over."

Every workplace had that one employee who was deemed irreplaceable. 

The employee who showed up early, went the extra mile, and made the lives of those around them easier. The one who had a passion for their work⏤ who was born to do what they do with a smile on their face. You were that employee. Without you, everything would collapse into chaos and madness. Mayhem would fill your 8-storied workplace to the brim until it was spilling out into the unsuspecting streets of Austin, Texas. Riots would break out. Fire would engulf the city. The world would never know peace. Without you⏤

“Hey, coffee girl!” The sharp, angry voice startled you and the precariously stacked drinks in your hands nearly toppled over. You readjusted your hold on the carriers with a breathy sigh. “Where the hell is my cappuccino?” 

Perhaps calling yourself the most irreplaceable employee here was a bit of a stretch. You were important though. Your job was vital. If it weren’t for you then your co-workers would be caffeine deprived which would lead to headaches which would then lead to mistakes and errors in paperwork which would, eventually and inevitably, lead to worldwide destruction somewhere down the line. You were needed here. You were vital and a necessity. At least, that’s what you told yourself over and over in the form of a mental mantra. It was either that or get caught in the abysmal, black hole your life seemed to be right now.

“Here you go, sir.” You angled the carrier so he could scoop up the cup on the far left. The man yanked his cup away hastily, nearly knocking over the other drinks again, and rushed away without even so much as a ‘thank you’. You pressed your lips together in annoyance.

You were vital. You were vital. You were vital.

With a brief pause to piece your patience back together, you pasted on a broad smile and began to continue your morning deliveries. For two years, you had been taking coffee and lunch orders, scheduling meetings, running errands, and doing basically every other busy work task put on your plate. It was exhausting, both mentally and emotionally, but it was the price to pay. You wouldn't take this kind of treatment anywhere else and the only reason you still put up with it was because it was just a stepping stone.

Today you were a glorified assistant.

Tomorrow you would be an Agent.

An Agent of the Division of Mythological Affairs.

It was a title not many held and was exclusive for a number of reasons. The DMA was established decades ago to police and protect the supernatural community. It was the responsibility and duty of the DMA to keep the peace amongst the community while also keeping said community secret from the rest of humanity. Knowing that the monsters of myth and legend were real was privileged information. The only reason you were clued in was because of your mother. She had been an Agent herself years ago and you grew up surrounded by supernatural forces. Hell, your childhood best friend was a forest nymph. 

As you grew older, you grew more passionate about the world you were blessed to know and the dream to walk in your mother’s footsteps took root. You trained and you studied, desperate to make the world a better place, and thus far all you had succeeded in was mastering the skill of carrying four drink carriers without dropping them.

After delivering the final cup of coffee, you made your way up to the eighth floor. There was about fifteen minutes before you had to get down to the lobby for your next task of the day, and you planned to spend it begging. You greeted familiar faces as you passed them. The separation of labor could be seen in the change of clothes as you got to the higher floors. Everyone you passed now were dressed in nice and expensive suits. It was the upper levels that housed the policy makers⏤ more politician than soldier. 

The eighth floor was the nicest of them all with open windows that let in natural light. There were no ugly cubicles littering the bulk of it. Instead, modern and sleek furniture sat around the space and private offices were housed here. 

“Hey, have you seen Captain Roberts?” You asked Stacey, one of the secretaries you saw in meetings every once in a while, and she didn’t even lift her eyes up from the magazine she was flipping through. She just pointed to the right towards a hall of offices. You mumbled a thanks and continued on. There were a few different Captains who worked in this sector of the DMA, but Captain Roberts was in charge of the Agents and Analysts you worked with most often.

You were halfway down the hall when an unfamiliar, armored figure stepped out of the conference room to leave. Mandalorian. Your pace stuttered in shock as you stared wide eyed at the intimidating man stalking toward you. There were too many vampire covens to count, but a few were infamous enough to merit memorizing.

The Mandalorians were one of them.

Their signature being the impenetrable armor they wore at all times⏤ faces they never revealed to anyone. It wasn’t unusual to see a Mandalorian or two wandering around the building. They occasionally worked contracts with the DMA picking up on bounties. Not all DMA sanctioned bounty hunters were Mandalorian, but the best undoubtedly were. You didn’t recognize this one though.

His all silver armor was haunting and his gait spoke to strength and skill. He was close enough now that you could see your wide, staring eyes in the reflection of his visor, and you forced yourself to snap your gaze to the floor as you passed. The air was tense around him, it followed him like a dark cloud, and his heavy boots stormed past you without pause. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder to watch him a second more. His worn out cloak whipped around him at the pace he marched out with and a few suited men practically leapt out of his way to avoid being in his path. 

You let out a low whistle and turned back towards the conference room he had just left. Being on the radar of a Mandalorian had to be a fate worse than death, and you pitied whoever had pissed off that one. Outside the conference room door, you adjusted your work blazer and took a steadying breath. You were vital, this organization was lucky to have you, and you would be an Agent if it were the last thing you did. You rapped your knuckles against the door and waited until a deep voice called out for you to enter. 

Inside the room were three others. They sat at an elongated conference table centered in the room with their backs to Austin street views out the floor to ceiling windows. On the wall across from the windows were large screens designed for calls and it looked like one had just ended. Of the three people in the room, you only recognized one. Captain Roberts, a gruff man in his late sixties, stood at the head of the table with a few folders and papers spread out in front of him. He was built like a grizzly bear and had the temperament of one as well. The red of his beard was graying and you still hadn’t gotten used to his bald head quite yet.  He used to have hair thick and long enough to braid, but when his hair started to recede he chose instead to just lose it all.

“If that’s all, I have other matters to attend to.” Captain Roberts cleared his throat and motioned toward you. It was a dismissal on his part, and you stepped closer while the two other suited individuals packed up their belongings to leave. The second they were out of sight, Roberts groaned. “Perfect timing, kid. I hate dealing with Olympus representatives.”

Your jaw fell open and you pointed to the door, “Those were…” You had never met the souls responsible for carrying the messages and words of the gods and goddesses back down to Earth. “Really?”

“Try not to look so excited. The gods are dicks and they live to make my job more difficult.”

“You say that about everybody.” You replied and wandered over to stand by him. Your eyes darted down to the papers scattered on the table. It looked like a missing person report. “I saw a Mandalorian in here earlier.” The report looked like it was talking about a child. You narrowed your eyes and pulled it closer. The Mandalorian was reporting his own missing child. A young boy who had disappeared overnight. “Why were you meeting with a Mandalorian and Olympus representatives over a missing kid?”

Roberts snatched away the reports to tuck them into a folder with a chastising glare. “I didn’t. I was meeting with the representatives when the Mandalorian burst in. Kind of like you did.”

“You were happy with my interruption a few seconds ago.” You argued. Roberts gave you a tired glare, and you nodded toward the folders in his hands. “You know I was talking to Hannah downstairs a few days ago and she was telling me that the number of missing kids has skyrocketed this last month in comparison to previous months.”

Roberts grunted, “What have I told you about being nosy?”

“Maybe I could help.” You offered. “I could⏤” Roberts scoffed out your name with a shake of his head and made a beeline for the door. You scrambled after him. “Roberts, come on. Please.” 

“You came all this way up to beg me about a missing persons case?”

“Well, I actually came to beg you about applying for the Agent qualifications exam, but I’m not picky about what I beg for. I’ll take what I can get.”

“No.”

“Roberts⏤”

“I said, no.”

You locked your jaw in annoyance as you both climbed into the elevator. In order to sign up for the qualifications exam you needed the approval of a Captain. It seemed no matter how many times you begged Roberts to write you the letter of recommendation allowing you to sit for the test, he always had some excuse to say no. Any Captain’s letter would do the job and you could technically find another to badger about this, but you were the stubborn kind. Captain Roberts had been the one to qualify your mother, and you wanted him to be the one to qualify you too. 

“If you just gave me a chance,” You snapped, “I could do it.”

“We’re not getting into this again.”

“Give me a real reason then!”

Roberts glared at you with a look that would have anyone else cowering or running for the hills. You could see beyond the anger and frustration. Beyond the huff and glowering. Underneath all the rough Captain bravado was someone who cared, but right now it was infuriating. Roberts rubbed his bald head and shook it with disdain, “Your mother wouldn’t want you risking your life like she did.” It felt like your heart had stopped in your chest. Of all the excuses he had plied you with in the past this was the first time he used your mother as one. “She would want better for you.”

“Don’t.” You whispered.

“You’re a bright girl. You say the word and I can get you a job in research. You would be a hell of an Analyst⏤”

“I don’t want to be an Analyst! I want to be⏤” 

The elevator doors dinged open and you both grew silent. A small group shuffled onto the elevator making small talk. You stood stiff and straight, arms crossed over your chest, while Roberts pouted on his side of the elevator as well. Three floors down and the group dispersed leaving you alone with the Captain once more.

“You can do better than this, kid.” Roberts said firmly. “You have your whole life ahead of you.”

“This. This is what I want for my life.” You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze again. You just stared at the numbers at the top of the elevator door, each lighting up as you got closer and closer to the ground floor. “I just wanna help people like mom did.”

“There are other ways to do that.”

The elevator reached the bottom floor and you finally turned to Roberts, “Are you going to approve me for the exam or not?”

Roberts held your gaze for a moment, sadness seeping into his blue eyes, and he sighed, “No. No, I’m not.”

You bobbed your head once, biting back the burning threat of tears prickling at your eyes, and you hurried out of the elevator. Roberts called out after you, making others near the elevator doors glance in your direction, but you didn’t pause in your stride. 

There was a small cubicle, amongst a sea of others, down a hall connected from the lobby that you called your own. It was tiny, just big enough to house a computer and a bit of desk space for you to stack busy work all over, but it was yours. The cubicle wall was decorated with pictures of friends, family, and a spattering of Halloween decorations you had put up for the upcoming holiday.

You dropped into the seat, Roberts’ denial ringing in your ears, and your eyes landed on one photo in particular. It was your high school graduation and your mother had her arms wrapped around you proudly as you both beamed at the camera. The sight of it made your stomach turn and without thought you tugged it off the wall where it hung to stick in a drawer. Your mother was a hero who changed so many lives, and you could only wonder what she would think if you now⏤ sitting at a cubicle buried in busy work and covered in coffee stains.

You had buried yourself in errands and paperwork to distract from the bitter rejection of Captain Roberts. The small voice at the back of your mind whispered that all you had to do was seek out a separate Captain for your letter of recommendation. You knew for a fact that the Captain who worked the neighboring district handed out letters like candy. They had the mindset that the test would weed out the ones who didn’t deserve to be there, and you were confident you could pass. It was a quick and easy solution, but it felt too much like cheating in your eyes. 

A part of you wished you could kick your pride to the curb. A dream was a dream, right? It didn’t matter how you got there as long as you got there. You blew out an irritated breath of air and leaned back in your seat to stretch your spine. No matter how many times you repeated those words in your head they didn’t seem to stick. 

“Hey, pumpkin.” A voice drawled from behind you, and the condescending tone of it immediately made your blood pressure rise. Slowly, you turned in your seat to face the bane of your existence. Agent Miles Jackson was average in height but constantly acted as if he were compensating for something or another. You assumed it was his lack of a bearable personality. The weight of his stare gave his brown eyes a beady quality and his thin lipped smile could only be described as smarmy. He winked at you and the urge to gouge his eyes out washed over you. “What’re you doing here?”

You furrowed your brow, “Working. I know that’s an unfamiliar concept to you.”

“Ha ha. Funny.” Miles snorted. “I meant, why the hell are you still here and not picking up my lunch?” You opened your mouth to complain, but he cut in. “I want my usual from that sandwich place right down the road. The faster the better.”

“Miles⏤”

The man turned on his heel and began to march away before letting you say another word. You glared at his back where his light blue, wrinkled button up shirt was untucked from his one size too small dress pants. You just wanted to throw something at the back of his head. With a huff, you pushed to stand and grabbed your purse from the drawer under your desk. Between the morning you had and dealing with Miles, you were seriously going to need a drink tonight.

It took no time at all to pick up the food. You called ahead on your walk, and the workers there knew you fairly well as a regular. When you got back to the building there was a commotion in the lobby. More people than normal were milling about and a steady flow of people were streaming out of the first floor bullpen⏤ the exact place you were heading. You slipped through the crowd and as you got closer and closer to where Miles’ desk was the noise began to increase.

“⏤'nd you’re not fuckin’ listenin’ to me!” 

The words reverberated into the hall stopping you dead in your tracks. Calling it a yell would be underselling the wall of sound that slammed into you. It was a roar⏤ earth shattering, enraged, and excruciating. You rushed into the bullpen, hand clutched tight to the to-go bag of food, and gazed over a sea of desks. The bullpen was where most Agents worked day to day. Usually, the routine tasks involved speaking to concerned citizens or interviewing suspects. A good bulk of the work involved filing reports when not out on the streets working on a case. However, the room was nearly empty and continued to get even emptier as people rushed past you. At the center, with the agent you were looking for, was a man you didn’t recognize. 

He was gruff with broad shoulders covered in a worn out flannel. A peppering of gray littered the thick, dark hair atop his head and even spilled into the scruff on his face. The clear details that could be seen from a mile away was the redness in his face, the vein protruding along his neck as he yelled, and the rage simmering in his dark eyes. His anger was volatile and palpable. Your focus seemed to zoom in on the flash of pain, and once you saw it… it was all you could see. This was a man suffering. Amongst all that rage was heart wrenching fear and agony.

“Sir⏤”

“Don’ you fuckin’ ‘sir’ me.” The man snapped and shoved at Agent Jackson. “You son of a bitch, listen⏤”

Miles pointed in his face and the man snarled in response. “Don’t you take a tone with me. Do you know who I am?!” You got closer and you could see the man’s canines lengthen and his brown eyes flickered in shades of a burning gold. Wolf. He was a werewolf. Genetically speaking, there were hundreds of lineages from the initial werewolf. Unlike vampires, who were similar regardless of the coven, wolves differed. Based on what you could see here, this guy was probably from a local pack. The ones around here didn’t necessarily need the full moon and their emotions controlled a lot of their abilities. Miles ran a hand through his hair with a huff, “Now, Mr. Miller, we have your statement. If you’ll be patient with us⏤”

“Are you fuckin' kiddin' me right now with this bullshit!?”

You weren’t sure how this guy got stuck talking to the least empathetic and least helpful Agent in the entire building, but your heart went out to him. While Miles rattled off a long winded excuse, you crept forward to set the food on his desk and your eyes landed on an open report. The wolf’s name was Joel Miller, and as your eyes scanned the page you understood his rage.

“Your daughter is missing?” You gasped. Both men snapped their gazes at you. Miles glared at your intrusion, but Joel’s narrowed eyes held more questioning than rage toward you. You picked up the report to read the details, but all you could think of were the other missing children cases⏤ the Mandalorian this morning and his missing child. The report in your hand was poorly written which you expected of Miles. “When did you last see⏤”

“I already took his statement.” Miles snapped at you.

Joel, on the other hand, pointed his finger at the file with a glare, “Does it not say it in there??” Sensing the tension, you were hesitant to nod your head. Joel filled in the blanks though and snarled at Miles. “You fuckin' bastard. Are you not takin' this seriously!? She's a kid! She's only fourteen! I swear to the Gods, I’ll⏤”

“I assure you that we have what we need.” Miles snatched the report from your hands. “You’ll have to excuse my assistant. She isn’t trained." You sucked in a sharp breath, your own rage beginning to bubble up, at his words. As if you needed extensive training to read a piece of paper. “Pumpkin, you’re excused.”

“I’m not your assistant.” You spat at him. “Have you considered the other missing kids?”

Joel’s eyes widened, “'Scuse me?”

Miles scoffed and shook his head to glare at you, “That has nothing to do with⏤”

“And there was a Mandalorian here this morning whose kid disappeared overnight.”

Miles chuckled and the sound pissed you off further. It had the same effect on Joel Miller who looked close to shifting into his wolf form to leap across the desk and maul the man. Miles motioned toward you, “Well, that’s it then. Mandalorian.” You furrowed your brow. “I would bet my money on this being a blood feud. Wolves vs fangs.”

You shook your head, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“The wolves took the vampire kid, and in retaliation the vampires took the wolf’s kid.” Miles argued confidently. He turned to Joel and gave a slight shrug while scooping up the bag of food you had brought for him. “We will look into the matters, and we will call you with further information.”

“That’s it? You’ll call me?” Joel yelled. The wolf slapped the bag of food out of Miles’ hand and to the ground. “My daughter is fuckin' missin' 'nd that’s all you’re gonna give me right now!?”

Miles slammed his hand against his desk while staring at his lost meal. His glare toward the wolf deepened, a move you found to be hilarious considering Miles was far from intimidating, but you watched as his hand went to his hip where his service weapon rested. Your eyes widened and you set a hand on Miles’ chest to draw his attention to you.

“Stop.” You warned. “That’s a bad idea.” Miles locked his jaw and you tried to defuse the situation. “This isn’t right. Your theory is wrong. A wolf pack would never use a kid as a bargaining token in some rivalry.” You scoffed. “And the Mandalorians are the only vampire coven to allow children in their ranks. They literally adopt kids off the street to raise and care for. But you think they kidnapped a wolf’s child?”

Miles suddenly grabbed you by the arm roughly and squeezed hard enough to make you wince. The sound of a low warning growl filled the air, but all your attention was focused on the loathing rage in Miles’ eyes. He seemed… unhinged, somehow. With his other hand, Miles pointed a finger in your face. “Listen to me, pumpkin.” He snapped. “You need to stop playing ‘Agent’. You’re a bookish errand girl who has no idea what she’s talking about or trying to get involved in.” His words stung even more with Captain’s Roberts’ rejection still ringing fresh in your mind. “It’s pathetic how desperate you are to be an agent like your mommy. Especially considering, you’ll never be what she was. You’ll never be more than the useless, desperate⏤” 

Your hand curled into a fist and lashed out before you had even a second to think. Miles’ nose crunched under your now throbbing knuckles and blood splattered down his blue shirt. He cried out in pain and you stiffened in realization at what you had done. “You bitch! I’ll get you fired for this!”

Angry, embarrassed, and frustrated, you spun on your heel to rush away. Miles was still hollering behind you in a rage and before leaving the room you gave one last glance over your shoulder. The goal was to glare at Miles or admire the new shape of his nose, but as if pulled by an unseen force your gaze landed directly on Joel. Once you made eye contact with the wolf, there was no looking away. There was a haunting power in the way he stared back and it seemed to singe a hole through your very being, and you could feel his agony⏤ his devastation and desperation. The embarrassment you felt grew as you realized you were useless to him. Just like Miles said. You mouthed a quick apology and left in a hurry.

Downtown Austin had a district for the supernatural. Not that any human knew that it was for the supernatural specifically. With the right words, a person could find themselves in underground Austin where a market and community lay hidden. As you saw no reason to sit around and wait for the consequences of your actions to find you, you climbed into your car to drive across the city to see a friend. Once parked, it took no time at all to find your favorite bar. It was one owned by a witch and open to any and all who were interested.

Despite being underground, ‘Lucille's’ did not feel closed off or stuffy. The ceiling was high, a spell cast to mimic the natural lighting for the time of day, and the walls and furniture were decorated in greenery making the room feel like a clearing in a forest. Usually when you were here it was late evening or night time so the bar would be lit accordingly, but as it was literally 2 in the afternoon it was pure midday sunlight that shone down on you.

The bar wasn’t empty. A number of patrons sat around enjoying a casual lunch or drink, but you weaved through the tables to make your way to the actual bar. It was made of thick mahogany wood and glass. Behind the bar, the shelf was lined with liquors and raw materials. Jars filled with dragon scales, phoenix feathers, wormwood, and any other ingredient that could be used for spells or drinks. There was a glow from behind the shelf itself that shifted in a swirling of soft colors. 

As you sat down on a cushioned bar stool, you saw a familiar forest nymph walking out of the back carrying a box. Her pale green skin was accented by a darker, vine like pattern that encircled her limbs and torso⏤ made even more clear to see due to the loose, white tank top she wore. Her vibrant pink hair was pulled back into two buns atop her head and littered with yellow and blue flowers. She dropped the box with a grunt and her brown eyes landed on you in shock.

“Whoa! What’re you doing here??” 

“Hey, Nima.” 

“You here for lunch?”

“Not exactly.” You gave her a tight lipped smile as she bounced over with a bright grin. She stood close enough that you could see the slight movements of the vine-like pattern on her skin and it must have been close enough for her to see the misery in your features. Before she could begin her interrogation, you lifted your dominant hand to nod toward your bruised knuckles. “Can I have an ice pack?”

Nima wrapped a handful of ice in a rag for you to set on your hand and listened quietly as you told her about your day from start to finish.

“First off, I’m making you a stiff drink.” Nima grabbed a glass and she knew your preferences enough that you didn’t need to say a word. “Secondly, after you down this we’re getting in my car and we’re gonna go kill Agent ‘Shit for Brains’.” Your lips twitched up in amusement. “Thirdly⏤”

“How many bullet points are in this pep talk?” You asked. “Just so I can keep track.”

“You would make a gods damn brilliant Agent.” Nima paused in drink making to point at you. “I don’t care what anyone else says.” She shook the metal tumbler three times before pouring the drink in the martini glass. The light pink liquid bubbled and fizzed. She set it in front of you and you raised an eyebrow at the glittering light that shimmered from the bubbles that popped in it. Nima shrugged, “So, I added a joy charm to your drink. Sue me.”

The corner of your lip twitched up and you didn’t hesitate to bring the drink to your lips. The fizzing bubbles of the joy charm tickled your mouth and it reminded you of eating pop rocks as a kid. Unlike the pop rocks, it left an immediate light hearted buzz in your brain that made the glow of the lights around you seem a little bit brighter. Coming here had been the right decision. Between the drinks and Nima’s threats against Miles’ life you were feeling a bit better.

Nima stayed with you chatting for a while longer, but when a group of elves noisily wandered in she had to veer away to serve them. You finished the last of your drink, pushed the glass aside, and then folded your arms to lean on the bar with a hum. The joy charm left your brain with the happy buzz, but your heart still felt heavy. All you wanted to do in life was help others, like your mom had, and now you were going to get fired. You couldn’t even provide support for the people who were helping others.

So much for being vital.

You absentmindedly began to count the bottles on the expansive shelf in hopes to keep your mind occupied until Nima could come back and distract you. It was around 116 that you felt somebody sit on the stool right beside you. Any annoyance you felt at a stranger picking a seat so close to you when there were so many other open stools was muted by the effects of the joy charm. You continued to count and at 200 the stranger said your name.

Eyes wide, you turn your head and the sight of Joel Miller’s glare you jumped in surprise, “Gods!” You were sitting up now, half hanging off your stool, while gripping the edge of the bartop. “What are you… How do you know my name??”

“I asked 'round.” Joel replied gruffly. Unsure of what to say, you bobbed your head awkwardly. He had his arm resting on the bar as he faced you, and his hand was balled up in a tight fist. The wolf was wound up tight⏤ ready to snap at the slightest provocation. “Now tell me more 'bout the Mandalorian.”

You scrunched your nose, still in disbelief that this wolf followed you in the first place, “Um, DMA restricts me from giving out the information of someone else. I’m not really supposed to do it without going through the proper channels.”

“Yeah, well, you don’ really got a job anymore, far as I can tell.”

“I still have a job. I haven’t been fired.” You countered with a nod then mumbled. “Yet.”

Joel leaned in closer and you stiffened at his growl, “You think my Ellie missin' has somethin' to do with the Mandalorian?”

You assumed that was the name of his daughter. “I can’t say anything for certain. I mean, I don’t know anything⏤”

“You knew more than that bonehead Agent.”

“That’s not hard.” You mumbled with a quiet snort. Joel did not seem amused and continued to burn through you with his gaze. You cleared your throat and nodded. “All I know is the number of missing persons cases involving children has been higher this last month than usual, and some Mandalorian is missing his own kid.” Joel gave a slight nod and you could see the wheels turning in his head. You shrugged, “But I don’t think it’s the feud between wolves and vampires doing this. I know that’s what Miles assumed but… I just have this weird feeling that⏤ that something else is going on.”

Joel clenched his jaw before speaking, “Why?”

“I don’t know.” You sighed, defeated. “I don’t have evidence or a good reason. It’s just a... gut instinct.”

You squirmed under Joel’s continued gaze until he finally looked away. He turned in his seat to face forward and now you were the one staring. With how tense the wolf was, he looked to be made of stone. A handsome statue wearing a scowl that could fill even the gods with a chill. 

Nima bounced back over and gave Joel a skeptical glance. She raised an eyebrow at you in question and you waved your hand in front of your neck to signal her to leave him alone. Nima scooped up your empty glass and carried it away. 

“Where is he?”

Your head snapped back to Joel, eyes wide, “Sorry?”

“Where is the Mandalorian?” Joel demanded slowly. “I wanna talk to 'im.”

“I⏤I have no idea, man.” A laugh of disbelief left your lips. “The local Mandalorian coven is a mystery. They’re more tight lipped than any other coven I’ve heard about. Only a few people even know where they hide.”

Joel narrowed his eyes at you. “That’s all you got for me?”

You scoffed, “I’m sorry. If I had known you were going to stalk me out of the building⏤” Joel rolled his eyes with a huff. “⏤then I would’ve prepared accordingly. My bad.” 

Joel hissed a curse under his breath. His eyes closed and a hand rubbed his jawline before resting over his mouth⏤ attempting to settle himself, you assumed. You glanced over at Nima who was staring at you in concern and you gave her a quick nod and pointed to the wolf beside you. A few moments later, Nima came over and placed a glass of dark liquor in front of you. She mouthed the words, ‘You good?’, and you gave her a tight lipped smile. She shot Joel another wary glance before moving over to her other customers. 

You cleared your throat and pushed the drink in Joel’s direction. He opened his eyes and stared down at the drink. Joel sniffed the air then furrowed his brow, “That’s Lavagulin.” You shrugged. That sounded right, but you didn’t know the dark liquor types well enough to confirm it. His gaze turned skeptical and paranoid, “How do you know my drink of choice?”

“Oh, I don’t.” You held your hands in surrender. “Nima does.” You pointed to the forest nymph who was flipped a tumbler with a broad grin. “I don’t know how she does it, but she can guess anybody’s drink of choice. I’ve never seen her fail.” Joel stared for a second more before picking up the drink and taking a long sip of it. You rubbed the back of your neck nervously. “Listen, I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. I wish I could help.”

Joel didn’t respond to your comfort and just continued to drink. You briefly considered calling Captain Roberts. Miles had probably already gone to the man to snitch on you for breaking his nose. There was no way you wouldn’t get canned for the attack, even the Captain couldn’t protect you from that, but somebody should know that Miles was out of line with a citizen. Joel Miller needed real help to find his daughter, and gods knew that Agent Miles Jackson wasn’t going to be of any use. As the thought crossed your mind, you tilted your head. Help. Joel needed help.

“I could help.” You blurted out loud.

“What?” Joel was nearly finished with his drink.

“I could help!” You repeated. Why hadn’t you thought about this before? Joel needed help, and you needed to prove that this was a job you were more than capable of. “My mom was an Agent⏤ one of the best. She had all these connections and…” Joel was now facing you entirely as he had turned in his seat. For the first time since you met him, you saw more than just anger, panic, and pain in his eyes. There was a flicker of hope. You shot him a smile. “I think I can find out where the Mandalorian coven is.”

Joel leaned forward on his seat, “Where?”

“We need to go to my apartment. There’s a journal with a map.” You jumped up and began to root through your bag for your wallet. 

“What’s going on?” Nima came back over. “You leaving?”

“Yeah, it’s a⏤ it’s a long story.” 

“Everything alright though?”

You huffed when you couldn’t find your wallet, “What? Yeah, no. It’s fine. Just give me a second. I think my wallet is buried under here somewhere.”

Nima shook her head with a frown, “I’m not taking your money.”

“What’re you talking about?” You demanded.

“You don’t have a job. I’m not taking your money, babe.” You winced at her half true comment. The DMA didn’t pay you all that great anyways considering your position wasn’t super high on the career ladder. But then again, if you solved this case and proved your worth then you could be the Agent you knew you were capable of being. Suddenly, Joel held out a few folded bills. Your eyes widened, but Nima snatched the money from his hands with a smirk. “You on the other hand, I can very much take money from.”

Joel ushered you out of the bar as Nima waved after you and demanded you call her later. The wolf said he’d follow behind you in his own truck which you figured he wouldn’t have a problem with considering he had done it once before. You just prayed the plan you had in mind was actually going to pan out.

If you had known you’d have a near feral werewolf sitting in your living room this afternoon, you would’ve cleaned up a little better before leaving in the morning. You scrambled through your room searching for the journal that you knew was somewhere around here.

“You got it, yet?” Joel barked from the other room.

“Almost! Just⏤ Just hang on!”

Finally, you found the journal buried under a stack of papers on your desk. You mumbled your relief and immediately began to flip through the journal pages searching for something that could point you in the direction of the Mandalorians. You knew for a fact that your mother had a connection⏤ either directly or indirectly. You managed to find the vague map scribbled out midway through the journal. It wasn’t much, but it was more than you had ten minutes ago. You took a quick picture of it with your phone and began to leave your room only to pause. Frozen in place, your eyes darted over to your bedside drawer. After a second of contemplation, you hurried over and pulled out the handgun tucked away for safekeeping. The only ammunition you had was regular bullets and silver ones. Neither would help against a vampire, especially a Mandalorian vampire decked out in ceremonial armor, but the idea of having it on you brought some semblance of comfort. You tugged on your shoulder holster and triple checked the weapon before safely tucking it in place. The last two things you grabbed before leaving your room was a jacket to wear over the holster, keeping it mostly hidden, and your mother’s old badge.

When you stepped out into the living room, Joel was standing and staring at a few pictures on your wall. His eyebrows were drawn together, deep in thought, as his attention was focused in on a picture of you and your mother from when you were a child.

You cleared your throat and his eyes snapped back to you. You opened your mouth to explain the picture, but Joel closed the space between the two of you back on target, “Where is it? The coven?”

“Here.” You opened your phone to point to the picture you had taken.

Joel narrowed his eyes, “That’s all you got? You don’ got an address or somethin'?”

“An address?” You scoffed. “They live underground in the middle of nowhere. Sorry I don’t have a PO box to type into google for you. We can find it with this. Let’s go⏤”

“We??”

You set your hands on your hips with narrowed eyes, “Yeah, we.”

“You’re not goin'.”

“I’m not letting you and your pack stampede into a vampire coven!”

“I don’ have a pack.” Joel shook his head, and you tried to hide your surprise. “I work better alone. Now give me the map.”

“Fine,” You corrected, “I’m not letting a lone werewolf storm a vampire coven.”

“And how is addin' a human to the mix gonna tip the odds in my favor, sweetheart?” Joel scoffed and motioned to you.

“For one, they won’t kill me on sight for being a werewolf.” You argued. “And two,” You pulled the badge out of your pocket and flashed it to him, “I’m an impartial party. A peacekeeper.”

Joel snarled, “If they do have my kid for some reason, I don’ plan on keepin' the peace.”

“Yeah, see, that sentence proved my point. You need me.”

Joel opened his mouth to argue more, and you were fully prepared to counter anything he threw your way, but then he surprised you by locking his jaw and giving you a stiff nod. You hadn’t actually expected that to work. Joel turned to leave your apartment with a grunt and you hurried after him.

“Also, we’re taking my car.”

After another short lived argument, you managed to wrestle Joel into your vehicle. According to the map, the coven was just outside Austin city limits, truly in the middle of nowhere, and it would take at least an hour to get in the vicinity. Then you’d have to search for it further. The drive was just as awkward as you would’ve guessed it to be. Joel didn't seem like the type of man who enjoyed small talk even on a good day let alone right now. Unfortunately, the more nervous you got the more you seemed to want to talk.

“So, can I ask you something?” You blurted.

“No.”

“Oh.”

An even more tense silence filled the air between the two of you as you focused on the road ahead. Joel sighed and shook his head, “What?”

“You said you don’t have a pack.” You continued on with your line of questioning despite the lackluster permission he gave.

“Is there a question somewhere in there?”

“Is it true?” You asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a werewolf without a pack.”

“Well, now you have. Congrats.” Joel replied dryly. 

Your cellphone began to vibrate and the name ‘Captain Roberts’ flashed on the screen. You ignored the call, “So, it’s just you and your family then?”

“It’s me 'nd Ellie. That’s it.” Joel grunted. He shrugged after a beat, “Got a brother too but he’s still in the pack. Tried to leave when I did, but I convinced him not to.”

“Oh, so you left on your own.” You voiced the thought aloud. Your phone began to vibrate again. ‘Captain Roberts’. Ignore. “Why…” You were very, very curious as to why a werewolf would willingly leave his pack to be on his own⏤ or on his own with his daughter, you should say. But, it seemed too personal for you to pry into. “What’s Ellie like?”

Joel paused in thought. “She’s smart, but she’s also trouble. Bit of a little shit.” There was a small smile on his face as he said the words. “Obsessed with these stupid jokes 'nd puns.”

“She sounds fun.” You chuckled. “You said she was fourteen?” Joel nodded once. For the third time, your phone began to vibrate and you hit the ignore button with more force than needed. “What⏤”

“You ain't gonna answer that?” Joel questioned.

“No.” You shook your head. “It’s just gonna be a long conversation about disappointment and it’ll probably end in my termination. Roberts, the Captain, likes me, but Miles⏤ the Agent whose nose I broke⏤ he’s kind of a big deal.”

Joel scoffed, “He’s a big deal?”

“Not in a ‘good at his job’ way. More in a ‘my daddy owns you’ kind of way.”

“Got it.”

“Yeah, when he said he was gonna get me fired he meant it.” You sighed. “It’s all about knowing the right people, and he’s related to the right people so it’s even worse.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“You’re telling me.” You mumbled with a sigh. This time there was a notification about a voicemail being left along with the missed calls. That was not a message you were eager to listen to. The rest of the drive passed in silence, but it wasn’t as tense as the start of the trip. You drove your car off road where the map suggested. The map had a shaded portion where the coven supposedly was, and you prayed they hadn’t recently moved. You drove, scanning for some kind of the symbol drawn on the map, and when Joel spotted it carved into a tree you parked the car. “So, you’re not going to like what I’m going to say…”

“Then don’ say it.”

“I think you should stay with the car.” You said it anyways.

Joel stared at you as if you had grown a second head, “Are you outta your gods damned mind? I’m not sittin' here 'nd waitin'⏤”

“If it’s me alone I can talk to them as an Agent of the DMA and question⏤”

“You’re not an Agent.”

“I’m also not a werewolf.” You snapped. Joel had his jaw locked so tight that you could hear him grinding his teeth against one another. You held a hand out towards him to plead your case. “I’m not gonna say that I get it because I don’t have a kid. I could never fully understand how you feel right now, but… Joel, I’m going to do everything in my power to help you find Ellie. If we go in together it’ll stir them up, but maybe if I’m alone they’ll stay calm enough to answer some questions. I’m not a threat to them. I’m just a dumb human, after all.”

Joel turned away and rubbed his face. The exhaustion and frustration were clear to see. He sighed, “Fine. You have twenty minutes. Twenty minutes 'nd then I’m goin' after you whether you like it or not.”

“Deal.” You agreed.

You reached over him, he stiffened at the closeness, but you mumbled an apology and rooted through your glove compartment. There was a small, travel bottle of perfume that Nima had tucked away for you. It was one you never used, a bit too strong for your liking, but she was adamant about keeping it around in case of emergent night outs when you needed to get ready on the go. There was a collection of hair products and makeup tucked somewhere in your back seat too.

After finding it, you opened the car door and began to spray it all over yourself. It took only two squirts of the bottle when Joel began to cough. He rubbed his nose with a deep frown, “What the fuck are you doin'?”

“I’m trying to get the smell of wolf off of me.”

“You’re ruinin' your scent.” Joel grumbled with no further elaboration. You sprayed yourself three more times just to be sure, and ended up hacking up a long yourself as the strong floral scent hit you like a truck. Joel chuckled, “See?”

“Here’s to hoping the Mandalorians hate how I smell too. I’ll be right back.”

You closed the driver’s side door and marched out to walk past the tree with the carving. Joel called out after you, and when you glanced over your shoulder you saw he had rolled the window down. Joel nodded once, “Careful, sweetheart.”

With a reassuring smile, you gave him a thumbs up that he shook his head at before rolling the window back up. Your reassuring smile falter once you faced away from him and you steeled your nerves as you pressed into the thick of the trees. You could do this. You could handle this. You were vital.

The goal was to follow the trail of carved symbols in the trees. It drove you deeper into the forest and after finding four more you noticed that the path had looped you into a circle so you were back in front of symbol three. Worry briefly flooded your senses as you thought you may have taken a wrong turn and time was ticking down. Joel would be kicking down your car door to come find you and gods knew with the amount of perfume you wore it wouldn’t be hard. 

You blew out an annoyed breath and kept on, but you only got a few feet further when a figure suddenly loomed in front of you. 

“Gods!” You cried and scrambled back a few steps. The Mandalorian in front of you was towering in height and immensely broad. He wore navy pieces of armor, and you couldn’t fathom how someone so large and dressed in so much metal could be so loud. He stood still, like a statue, and his blank helmet stared down at you. Quickly, you readjusted your stance and cleared your throat. With as much confidence as you could muster, you pulled out the badge and flashed it at him⏤ introducing yourself as an Agent with your last name. “I’m with the DMA, and I’d like you to take me to your leader.” You winced as the words came out awkward. “I mean, I’d like to speak with someone on a missing persons case. I believe it would be in the benefit of your coven. Is there someone in charge I can speak to?”

The Mandalorian said nothing and you tucked your badge back into your pocket. You weighed the pros and cons of opening your mouth again, but before you could come to a conclusion he held his hand out toward you. Hesitantly, you reached out and the second your fingers brushed against his the Mandalorian tugged you toward himself and threw you over his shoulder. A cry of disdain left your lips but the world became a sudden blur of color and sound as wind whipped past you and with a few blinks you were no longer in the forest. He dropped you with no announcement and you grunted as you hit the cold, stone floor. 

“Thanks for the warning.” You scoffed and tried to get your bearings. Nausea rolled through you and the room felt like it was spinning. When your brain finally caught up to what had happened, you glanced around to see he had carried you into a cavern. Light spilled from overhead, like a spotlight, and with a glance up you realized he had dropped down into this cave system.

“Come.” The Mandalorian grunted and you struggled to your feet to follow him.

As he led you deeper into the cave, the walls were lit with torches. Doorways into other halls and rooms were carved into the wall, but this Mandalorian led you straight down the center. Other Mandalorians like him began to gather and peer out of the spaces to stare at you and it took all of your might to keep your shoulders straight and your chin held high.

At the end of the cavern, was a circular room that was taller than it was wide. A stone structure was built in the center of the room and the shape and fire burning at it’s center reminded you of an old timey forge where weapons used to be made. The navy Mandalorian you had been following barked out in a different language⏤ Mando’a if you remembered correctly⏤ and a different Mandalorian with a helmet of gold stepped out from a back doorway into the room. The shape of her armor seemed more feminine and around her waist hung a thick metal hammer.

“You are not the Agent described to me.” She said in a smooth and calm voice.

“Sorry?” You replied confused.

She repeated your last name. “You are not her.”

Your eyes widened, “Oh. Oh! Right, no. Um, you’re thinking of my mother. You knew her?”

“Very well.” The Mandalorian confirmed. Two other Mandalorians stepped into the circular room just to stand against the wall with the large navy one, and it made your skin crawl nervously. It seemed like overkill. Just one Mandalorian could demolish you. You didn’t understand why they needed a total of four with you. “Why are you here, young one?”

You nodded, back to business, “This morning I saw a Mandalorian at the DMA headquarters. He was filing a report on a missing child. He was⏤ His armor was all silver. Like a shiny silver, and his under suit looked brown?” You tried to recall any details you remembered of him, but it was really the bright shine to his armor that stayed in your mind. “Anyways, we’ve had a string of missing children and I wanted to speak to this Mandalorian⏤”

The three Mandalorians behind you barked out a word you didn’t recognize and you jumped in place. The leader hummed, “He is no Mandalorian.”

“Uh,” You squinted with a twist of your lips, “He looked very Mandalorian⏤”

They barked the same word again. She spoke once more, “Din Djarin.”

“What?”

“That is the man you seek.” She said. “He has broken his creed. He is Mandalorian no longer. We do not associate with him.” You scrunched your nose in disbelief. Of all the rotten luck. You manage to actually find the mysterious Mandalorian coven only to find out that the one Mandalorian you sought out was excommunicated from his coven. Great. “Is that all you have come for?”

“Technically, yes.” You replied slowly. “Unless, do you know anything about his kid? Or where I can find him?”

“No.” She answered simply and bluntly. Fantastic. Outside the room, you could hear hissed whispers and low growls. Two sounds you never considered good news. “Are you prepared to pay your price?”

You focused back on her, “The price for what?”

“For your life.”

At those three words, you felt your blood run cold. Nowhere in your mom’s journal did it mention any sort of price. The noises outside grew louder and one of the angry growls was unfortunately familiar. You cursed under your breath and turned just in time for two Mandalorians to drag in a thrashing Joel. They forced him to his knees with a hiss. One gloved hand clamped around the back of his neck and you saw Joel’s teeth lengthen as the color of his eyes began to flicker in shade.

“Joel.” You blurted and his eyes lifted to meet yours. You gave a discreet shake of your head, and the burning gold of his eyes returned to a warm brown.

“Your twenty minutes was up.” He grunted.

“Young one.” You spun in place and the leader of the Mandalorians was dangerously close. You tried to take a step back, but her hand wrapped around your throat. Joel snarled for her to let you go, and you held up a hand behind you in hopes to reassure him. Her hand wasn’t restricting your air. It just rested there. A vague threat. “Will you pay your price?”

You swallowed, unable to see a situation where denying her ended well for either of you, “Yes?”

The leader used the hand around your throat to tilt your head up and to the side, exposing your neck, and then she moved quicker than you could see. Her other arm was a blur and you felt a sting of pain against your neck. The room’s air seemed to thicken with tension as she held up a blade smeared with your blood. She released you and began to stalk toward the forge. You rubbed at your neck nervously. You weren’t bleeding out, but it shook you to your core all the same. The leader whispered in Mando’a before flicking beads of your bright red blood into the fire at the forge’s center. The blue flames flashed white before returning to their natural state.

She turned and tucked the knife away. “You have paid your price. Paz will take you above ground.” She nodded to the navy Mandalorian that had brought you in. “The wolf stays.”

“Wait, no⏤” You began.

“He will die for trespassing.”

“Hang on!” You scooted away from Paz. “Can’t he pay the price? Or can I pay for him?” Somehow, through a helmet, the leader managed to shoot you a dry look. That’s how you interpreted it, at least. Paz was stalking toward you as Joel thrashed in the arms of the Mandalorians and your mind raced for a plan. Just as he reached out to grab you, you blurted, “Riddur!”

The room froze and even Joel paused in his rage to stare at you. The leader titled her head. You pointed back to Joel, “He is my riddur.”

“You know what that word means?” She questioned.

“Yes.” You nodded. The Mandalorians were the most family oriented of the vampire covens. The bond between lovers was sacred. ‘Riddur’ was translated to spouse, but it carried a heavier weight than the english word. They may have hated wolves, but you prayed to the gods that they respected the bond enough to let it carry over outside the coven. “Please. Don’t do this.”

There was an agonizing pause where you could feel your heart trying to beat out of your chest. The leader gave a curt nod and you breathed a sigh of relief. “You may take your riddur and leave.” The Mandalorians released Joel and stepped back. You hurried over to his side to loop an arm through his. “But, young one?” You stared at the leader and the gaze she cast your way was nerve wracking. “Do not come here again. The price to pay next time will be steep.”

You nodded and mumbled a thanks before dragging Joel out the way you had come in. All the Mandalorians in the cave continued to stare. Joel kept pace with you and whispered, “Ellie? Did you find the Mandalorian we were lookin' for?”

“No. He’s not here. He was kicked out of his coven.” You replied. “We have to look elsewhere.”

Joel spat a curse out under his breath, but thankfully he continued to rush out with you rather than turn back. As you reached the spot where you entered you suddenly remembered that it hadn’t been you who came in. You stared up at the hole in the ground and sighed, “Joel⏤”

“Hold on.” Joel scooped you up and jumped. You yelped in surprise at the height he managed. It cleared the hold and he landed on the ground by the edge. At the landing, you heard his knees crack and Joel grumbled in annoyance before setting you down. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” You replied.

The two of you sped through the forest and didn’t slow your pace until your car was in sight. Joel glanced your way, “Riddur.” He repeated the word. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, uh, it means spouse?” You offered. “In the werewolf setting I suppose the closer term would be ‘mate’? It’s a bond between lovers.” Joel raised an eyebrow and you felt your cheeks grow warm. “I just knew that Mandalorians took that kind of thing seriously. It was the only idea I had to get us out of there.”

He stared for a long moment, long enough to make you nervously rub the back of your neck, and then he nodded, “Thanks for that. I… I appreciate your help.” Joel grunted uncomfortably. Your lips twitched up into a smile. The two of you reached the car and climbed in. Before you could start it up, Joel cleared his throat. “It was 'cause of Ellie.”

“What?”

“Earlier. I know you wanted to ask why I left my pack. It was for Ellie.” Joel responded. “She… We’re not related by blood. She’s actually… Ellie is only half wolf.” Your eyes widened in surprise, but you stayed silent so he could continue. “My pack didn’ want half breeds. That’s where they drew the line.” Joel sunk in his seat and rubbed his jaw⏤ a nervous tick of his you were realizing. “But she’s my daughter. They didn’ get that so I left.”

You pressed your lips together and started to reach out to touch his shoulder, but at last minute you dropped your hand and shot him a smile. “Thank you for telling me. We are going to find her.” You shrugged. “We need some other way to find the ex-Mandalorian, but we have a name now and I… I‘ll think of something. I swear it, Joel. I’m not gonna rest until we find her, okay?”

“Yeah, alright, sweetheart.” He replied. You started the car and began to turn it around when Joel let out a cough. “You smell awful, by the way.”

“Thank you for that. Appreciate it very much.” 

Come hell or high water, you were going to find Din Djarin. As you drove, a few ideas came to mind. Terrible, terrible ideas, but beggars can’t be choosers at the end of the day. You shot Joel another glance out of the corner of your eye and your resolve steeled. This was more than just about redeeming yourself and getting your job back. You were going to find Ellie for Joel even if it killed you.

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[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: We speak to those beyond. 3668 words.

1986

Time was not linear. Nor was it circular. It was an overlapping collage of everything that had ever happened. A compressed murder board. A grimoire swallowed whole. Eddie remembered it all.

A century of Eptesicus fuscus, a shell of consciousness. Hawkins. A sickness. A witch’s healing hand. Before that, the flatlands. A coven. You. Oh, you, his little witch.

“Those are not your apples.” Cleansing crystals by moonlight. Amabel, little witch. Lonely vampire. Collecting flowers and berries. Green milkweed. Unconditional good. A forest gate. “Bloodline magic, far and wide.” A bet, a kiss, and a name.  “I envy your world of absolutes. And I love you so.” Marguerite du Bruyeres’ letters to Guillaume du Bruyeres. Unmistakably vampire carnage. Blood of my blood.

Eddie let you slip onto the pillow, then escaped out of the trailer and into the early morning. The sun would rise soon but he needed to move. Run. Scream.

The sisters – Sally and Gillian. Penelope, the spellcaster. “By your hand he is taken and I die on this night, or you let us go and free yourself of this burden.” Transformation. Walking through the grass. Black-eyed Susan, tansy, elecampane, yellow carnation, cyclamen. Blood of my blood.

He remembered who he was before you. And before Roanoke. His accent and gait may have changed, but he was the same sad, doomed soul he’d been then. Still a monster.

Eddie sobbed. He went to the forest gate on the outskirts of town and laid in the grass, looking up at the starry sky, letting the shame and horror and regret drown him.

What was he to do? How would he tell you? Should he tell you? Would you be able to see it on his face?

He waited until the very last minutes of night to return to Forest Hills. Eddie moved slowly through the town; slowly, at least, for him. He could picture it all now, how it used to be. The dirt roads. The vacuum of quiet that proceeded the era of constant electrical white noise.

You slept well into the morning, but roused yourself before midday. Eddie was watching Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope. He seemed immersed, so you went about making breakfast. Assam tea with cocoa husks. Oatmeal with sultanas and brown sugar.

There was an awkwardness to Eddie when you sat next to him, curling up close enough to touch. Your mind cycled through possibilities with rapid fire speed. The notion it kept circling back to was – did he regret kissing you?

“Chewie reminds me of the creatures that live in the woods. Have you seen them? Over in the north-west?” you asked, trying to break the ice.

Eddie nodded. “They are shy,”

“Yeah. The humans don’t know about them. Well. They do, but most of them think it’s a hoax. They’re considered cryptids… Which is like, an animal or creature that may or may not exist…” You were rambling. “When they see one, they call it Bigfoot… But Chewie definitely looks like one.”

Eddie didn’t answer. You hadn’t appeared to notice the significance of him remembering something, even something innocuous like the existence of things in the woods.

You finished eating, washed your dishes, and returned to the couch. Star Wars ended and you had no real choice but to address the atmosphere.

“Are you okay?” you asked Eddie.

He looked at you, something in his expression you couldn’t quite place. He nodded. “Yes… Perhaps on edge regarding what your Witches will tell,”

“Yeah… Well then, let’s not put it off any longer.”

Directing Eddie to sit across the room, you knelt at your altar and lit two candles. A pale blue candle for truth. A darker indigo candle for intuition and breaking through illusion. With paper in front of you and a pen in hand, you closed your eyes.

The Witches Who Came Before were always with you, so you needn’t call for them. Instead, you spoke to them with clear intention.

“It is not my place to question you. But it is your place to guide me. To offer truth. Long ago, you foretold of us leaving the flatlands. Then, you warned me of returning. What would have happened if I had heeded that warning?”

The temperature of the room dropped and the air grew thick. Eddie felt his skin tingle and prickle, a frisson of fear and excitement running through him.

“I know you see him for what he is. Without him, Vecna would not have been defeated. Can you say without doubt that he would have been without my intervention?”

It was a challenge to them. If you and Eddie hadn’t destroyed Vecna, could your coven have stopped him? Could all the witches in the world have stop him? Maybe, sure. However, somewhere deep down you knew the answer. Vecna did not belong to this plane of existence. He wasn’t even of the world he inhabited. And a witch can only fight within the boundaries of the natural world.

If you had not come to Hawkins, if you had not found the bat and restored Eddie to his vampire form, Vecna would have taken the town, then the world.

The Witches were silent. It told you that you were right.

“You said that not all callings are sanctified, but that the voice calling me was coming into focus for you. Do you know what brought me here?”

The flames flickered and your hand picked up the signal. The words scrawled along the paper faster than you could read.

“Life and Death have no voice… They do not come calling in the night,” The Witches said. “Their siblings are to follow suit, yet they are wayward in their youth,”

“Which of their siblings called to me?” you asked.

“Destiny was formed in shattered ruins.”

The letters were so unfamiliar, you weren’t sure which witch was speaking to you. It didn’t matter. You had an answer. Destiny had broken free of the rules and reached out to you, urging you to come to Hawkins.

“If I was fated to return to Hawkins, then I was fated to find him?”

Y. E. S. was written over and over, the word tracing itself again and again.

“Why me?”

“Like calls to like. Fate to fate. Love to love,” they said. “History will not repeat itself,”

“A history I do not remember.”

For a moment, quiet. “Lore must be rewritten. You must remember.”

You looked over at Eddie, who could not see any of the words on the page. He was watching you intently, something so human behind his eyes.

“How?” you asked The Witches. “How can I remember?”

“By definition. Blood for blood. Magic for magic.”

You didn’t understand but it felt like enough information that you could figure it out. There was one more thing you needed to know. “The coven… Did I betray them or have they betrayed me?”

“Knowledge is… a creator’s prerogative.”

The pen dropped and the flames were snuffed by an unseen power. You breathed out and read the pages again. Eddie came to sit opposite you. He took the paper.

“Destiny is… a sentient thing?” Eddie asked.

“It’s not meant to be. Forces like fate and life and death shouldn’t… proactively… change the course of what happens on Earth. Not for good reason,”

“I assume we will not hear this reason from Destiny,”

“No… But… It’s an answer. I was called here to find you so we could kill Vecna.”

It was a hypothesis you had both considered. It should have felt satisfying to have it confirmed, yet it was a shallow kind of resolution.

“And, it had to be you,” Eddie said. He knew why it had to be you. No other witch would have saved a vampire. It pained him to see you confused and lost.

“When I get my memories back, I’ll know why it had to be me,”

“By definition. Blood for blood. Magic for magic,” Eddie read off the page. You nodded. “By definition, you are a witch, you are magic. Therefore, it is through magic that you will find your memories,” he reasoned.

It clicked into place in your mind. “And by definition, you are a vampire… blood… so… Through blood you’ll get yours back?” you guessed.

When you looked up at Eddie, you expected to see your own excited expression mirrored. Instead, there was restraint. He broke eye contact almost immediately and began to nod, standing up and walking away.

“Yes. Although I don’t-” he began.

“Stop,” you whispered.

You got up and followed him across the room, he took a step to move away from you but you grabbed him by the wrist. Eddie was helpless as you squinted your eyes and studied his face. When you figured it out, a small gasp slipped from your lips and you let go of him.

As you went to speak, your voice cracked and you had to start again. “How long?”

Eddie said your name with too much softness.

“No. No. Don’t… Don’t do that. How long have you remembered? Do you remember everything? When… When did you remember?” You felt like you were going to throw up.

It hurt.

Not the nausea or the sudden headache, but the deceit. You had thought you and Eddie were a united front. A team. But he had lied to you.

“Only last night, but-”

“Last night?! Was that before or after we…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Now that your face was contorted with fear and sadness, Eddie’s mirror yours.

“Please, let me tell you. I’ll tell you everything,” he begged. His hand reached out; he wanted to brush the tears from your cheeks.

You flinched and Eddie moved back in response.

Had you been stupid to trust a vampire? Was everything you felt about Eddie misguided? Were all your bad decisions going to lead to a reckoning, where excommunication was the best outcome you could hope for?

Eddie wanted desperately to spill it all out. To tell you everything that had happened in 1836. To warn you against trusting your coven. To help you find your memories, and maybe Kelsey’s too. But the more he pushed, the more you pulled away. He’d never had faith in anything, but he demanded it of himself in that moment. Have faith in fate. Have faith in his little witch.

Your mind was having trouble holding any one thought. Normally, you’d be cycling through them all, but it felt like your brain was empty. Long hallways leading to unfurnished rooms. Cavernous spaces. Haunted. You were frozen on the spot, watching Eddie watch you. Then, everything came into sharp focus at the sound of a knock on the trailer’s front door.

The tension was popped and you choked back a half-sob. Eddie hid himself in the bedroom, closing the door behind him, as you answered. He climbed onto the bed and curled up, regret washing over him as he closed his eyes and listened.

Sunlight poured in as the door swung open, Robin and Nancy’s shadows casting long across the trailer’s carpet. You frowned, at first, confused by their appearance. The grief was so intense that it was almost an entity standing beside them. You understood then.

“Hey,” Nancy greeted weakly.

“Hi,” you replied.

It felt strange following a normal social script with them. Yet, you all persisted.

“This is Dustin,” she introduced, taking a step to reveal a child standing behind her.

You knew who he was and nodded politely in his direction. He was already crying. Sighing, you looked away from them, out at Forest Hills. Life was returning to it, but you had been too busy with your own shit to notice.

“It might be too early for this,” you told them.

“It’s past midday,” Robin countered.

“No, I mean, too early in the grieving process. It’s only been a couple days,” you explained.

“Are you saying that… He won’t… Answer us… yet? Or that we aren’t ready to talk to him?” Nancy asked. “Because, no offense, but you don’t know us well enough to tell us if we’re ready,”

“We’re ready,” Robin added.

You sucked your bottom lip in, forgetting the split. You winced at the pain, tasted the blood. The blood. Was that how Eddie got his memory back? Had he kissed blood from your mouth and found history in it?

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Dustin squeaked. The boy’s face was pure misery. His nose was red from rubbing it with tissues. His eyes were bloodshot. He was clenching his jaw.

Stepping aside, you nodded. “Okay. Come in.”

Eddie stayed where he was, knowing it was not his place to intrude on such a private event.

You cleared the altar in the middle of the lounge room and directed the teens to sit around it. They watched as you gathered items from around the place and mumbled to yourself while scribbling into a notebook.

“Where there is death, there have always been attempts to commune with the dead. It is not a practice that belongs strictly to witches. Since the beginning of time, humans have sought out methods to speak to those they’ve lost. Where connection has been made, it is usually more to do with the dead than the methods of the living, but nonetheless, it has happened.”

Nancy was listening intently, ever the student. Robin and Dustin both looked at each other, sharing inpatient expressions.

“It’s important to understand history. If you want to participate in the craft, you owe it at least that,” you told them. “Our way of bridging us and them is dependent on the dead. How they appear is dictated by them entirely,”

“What does that mean?” Nancy asked.

“It means, I can send them a message and open the doorway, but if and how they walk through it has nothing to do with me. They could send a single message back. Just an echo I hear. Their form may appear, ready to hold conversation. Alternatively, they may close the door and lock it. You need to be prepared for any of these outcomes,”

“He’ll want to talk to us,” Dustin said. “I know he will.”

You hoped he was right.

If the altar was at the center of an invisible pentagram, you placed an object at each point. A small plate of chunks of cedarwood, burning slowly. Black onyx. Sprigs of vervain. A bowl of moon water. Finally, a white candle burning at where the top of the pentagram would be.

You sat at the altar and used a pin to open a tiny wound in your finger. Closing your eyes and letting the blood roll down your hand, you spoke. “I offer my blood, the blood of a born witch, in payment of passage into the ether.” You opened your eyes and looked at the teens. “You can call to him,” you instructed.

They looked between themselves, silently figuring out who would go first. Naturally, Nancy took a deep breath in. Her eyes glazed over with tears. Her voice was small. “Steve? Are you there?”

She looked to you for guidance; you nodded for her to continue.

“Steve… It’s Nancy… Robin and Dustin are here too… We…” She had to stop to steel her nerves. “We miss you. And. Um. We… we wanted…” It was suddenly impossible for her to say the words ‘to say goodbye.’ Nancy started to cry.

“Hey- hey, dingus,” Robin took over. “Are you there? You’re probably busy… hitting on ghost chicks already… But, um, if you could just… just tune in for a minute…”

Everyone’s attention snapped to the bowl of water as it shook and spilled. You felt him first. Warmth. Steve Harrington felt warm.

“He’s here,” you told them. “He’s listening.”

They all focused, trying to sense what you did. Slowly, his outline was becoming visible to you. He was behind his friends, leaning against the trailer’s wall, by the door. Steve’s arms were crossed against his chest and one leg was folded, foot flat against the wall. He appeared casual, already at peace with his death.

“Your friends wanted to say goodbye to you,” you said to him.

“Are you like…” Steve waved his hands in the air. “Like a witch?”

You nodded.

“All this is… Are you a- a good witch?”

“Was that a genuine question or are you quoting The Wizard of Oz?” you asked him.

Robin covered her face with her hands as Dustin rolled his eyes.

“I thought dying, might, you know, level him up?” Dustin whispered through his tears.

“I can hear you,” Steve said.

“Does he know we tried… we…” Nancy cut through the comedy with her grief, getting stuck on her words again.

Steve nodded. He moved through the trailer, his form semi-transparent and snapping with residual energy. He sat next to you, looking over at his friends. 

“He knows you tried to save him. He knows you didn’t want to leave him there,” you told them.

“Tell Dustin that he doesn’t need to feel guilty. I’m glad he wasn’t there,” Steve said.

“It’s good you weren’t there, Dustin. Steve is thankful you were safe and that you didn’t have to see him in the end,”

“And tell him that he’s the coolest kid I ever knew. That I figured that out on the train tracks. He’s cool and he’s so smart. Twice as smart as me. More, probably. He’s gonna grow up and be the kind of man I wish I was.”

You watched Steve as he spoke. The way he looked at Dustin with admiration in his eyes. Like this kid who probably worshipped him was actually the hero of the group.

You relayed Steve’s message word-for-word. Dustin whimpered and let Nancy wrap an arm around him.

“Thanks, man,” Dustin managed to get out. “I love you.”

Steve looked to Robin next. “I don’t know how to explain it to her,” he told you.

“It’s okay. I think she’ll understand,”

“Yeah… That’s it though. She gets me. And I get her. Like… I feel normal around her. I can just be… me. She’s my best friend… I have a shit load of regrets but not knowing Robin sooner is right at the top of that list. Tell her… that she’s so much braver than she thinks she is. And that she’s smart in a way nobody else is… And that she totally deserves to be loved. And not by some girl who keeps it a secret. Nothing like that. She deserves the whole love story movie thing… romantic comedy with the happy ending. Can you tell her that?”

You could and you did.

Robin nodded to herself in a self-soothing action, then pulled her knees up to her chest and started to rock. Steve frowned at her.

“Tell her that she should still go on the trip we were thinking about,”

“He says you should still go on the trip,” you said to her.

Robin barked out a broken laugh. “Sunshine, beers, and babes,” she said.

“Oh! And tell her if someone pauses Fast Times at Ridgemont High at 53 minutes and 5 seconds, she knows what it means.”

Robin laughed again and nodded. “Noted.”

Steve nodded along with her. “Maybe she should take Nancy on the trip. They’d actually make really good friends if they got to know each other,”

“I think they’re doing that,” you told him.

“That’s good…” He looked at Nancy. “I had the chance to tell her everything, near the end. Got some of it… Tell her… Shit. I don’t know how to say it without sounding like I’m blowing smoke up her ass,”

“You’re up Nancy. He needs a second. Says he doesn’t know how to tell you what he needs to without sounding like he’s blowing smoke up your ass.”

Everyone laughed. Except Steve. He held his hands up in question. “What the hell, man? You said you were a good witch!”

You liked Steve.

“Okay… She needs to really believe what I told her. About how she really helped me stop being such an asshole. And that it’s okay how it ended between us. I was stuck in the present but Nancy sees the future. Big plans, you know? She should know that’s a good thing.”

As soon as you started to give Nancy the message, she burst into tears again.

“Tell her that I love that she always trusts her gut. And that she’ll always look so hot with a shotgun… And tell her that I’ll say hi to Barb for her.”

The room fell into silence after the last of Nancy’s goodbye was said. Nobody was ready to move on just yet. After a few minutes of reflection, Steve’s form began to flicker. He knew what it meant. When you sat up straight, the others all looked at you.

“I gotta go,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” you replied softly. “Here. Hold my hand.”

Steve frowned, unsure of what would happen. Still, he thought it best to do what a good witch said. He took your hand and felt a zap of electricity or something magic.

“Any last words?” you asked him.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. The others all gasped. Steve looked to them then back to you. “They can hear me?”

Robin started to sob again. Dustin nodded.

“Oh, shit, okay. Shit… Hi… Shit…”

“It’s okay,” you told him, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah… Uh… Just… It’s okay, you know? It… it had to be this way. There’s already plenty of Steves in the world, you know? But there’s only one Dustin Henderson. One Robin Buckley. One Nancy Wheeler. The world needs you guys. So, it’s okay. I’m okay. I love you.”

The others cried and said goodbye. They held each other and let themselves feel it all.

Steve’s hand slowly faded out of yours, until there was nothing left but his warmth and the memory of him etched into his friends' minds like love letters swiped through wet concrete.

End Note: This chapter was written very much in collab with @dr-aculaaa, my resident Steve expert. Thank you so much! I hope you like how the scene turned out.

Chapter seventeen is a little bit of an interlude, it's an ode to both Steve and to the magic that runs through this story. But also... now she knows Eddie knows... yikes.

Grimoire updated!

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#Burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Reader Insert #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson x Reader #Vampire!Eddie Munson

[rijinksiwtv]

One thing about vampires living so far up North in Scandinavia is, it must be really wonderful for them in winter, but terrible in summer. Given how extreme the daylight hours are depending on the season, there'd be 0 hours of sun in December, while there would be 24 hours of daylight in June and July.

I hoped Anne might mention the midnight sun at some point in her VC books. But maybe thinking more deeply on what it means for vampires is too much of a hassle. Would a coven in Northern Norway or Sweden just hibernate in summer? Stay up all night in winter? Anne had a lot of travel opportunities but maybe she never experienced a Nordic country in summer. I should read her biographies sometime.

Anyway maybe this is part of the reason why Marius and Daniel eventually moved away from the "Northern lands". They were tired of being shut-ins all summer; and not just because Daniel didn't want to go outside for awhile. There was just too much light.

The only Nordic country I've been to was Finland around Helsinki (which isn't even that high North), in May I think, and at around 10 pm it was still bright out like it was midday. Really messed with my internal clock.

#thoughts #marius #daniel #midnight sun #vampire chronicles

[spanishskulduggery]

Spanish Vocab List - El bosque de la bruja / The Witch’s Forest

I started this list all “let’s talk about trees and flowers” and then it took a hard turn into “now say you meet Baba Yaga in the forest...” and I’m not going to apologize for the spoopy witchy vibes

la bruja = witch [also technically you can see/use el brujo for “male witch” or “warlock” though often “witch” in English comes across as distinctly feminine]

el aquelarre = a coven, a witches’ coven

la hora bruja = the witching hour la hora de brujas = the witching hour

la brujería = witchcraft

el curandero, la curandera = healer [sometimes santero/a which has multiple meanings - it can be “witchdoctor” but also a practitioner of santería which is a mix of religious and folk traditions]

el hechicero, la hechicera = sorcerer, sorceress

el mago, la maga = mage / magician

el encanto = enchantment, charm / magic spell

el hechizo = magic spell, charm, hex

la maldición = curse

el maleficio = curse

el mal de ojo = evil eye

la caldera = cauldron [or “caldera” of a volcano]

el ermitaño, la ermitaña = hermit, recluse

la escoba = broom

la magia = magic

mágico/a = magic, magical

el hado = Fate los hados = the Fates

el hada, las hadas = fairy, fairies el hada madrina = fairy godmother

el/la vidente = seer el clarividente, la clarividente = clairvoyant, seer

el/la médium = spirit medium

la nigromancia = necromancy el/la nigromante = necromancer

la rueca = spinning wheel

la manzana envenenada = poison apple

malvado/a = evil, wicked

malo/a = bad, evil

bueno/a = good

la guarida = lair, den

lanzar un hechizo/encanto/maleficio = to cast a spell/charm/curse

la poción = potion

elaborar = to brew, to create  [in other contexts it’s “to elaborate”, but in the context of food or drink it means “to make” in the sense of “to labor over” - the idea here is that it requires time and effort to fully make it and get everything right, so it’s used for “brewing alcohol” or any mixture that requires significant time or specialized creation, and potion making in a fantasy setting]

~

el bosque = the woods / forest / woodland el bosquecillo = small forest [sometimes “copse of trees”]

la selva = forest [often more wild] / jungle

el jardín = garden

el huerto (de fruta / de frutales) = orchard el huerto = vegetable garden, personal garden [el huerto generally means “a garden for growing food” and can be either “(vegetable) garden” or “orchard”, but in English an “orchard” is specifically more “fruit”; but it could be either]

la arboleda = grove, collection of trees

el sol = sun

la luna = moon

la estrella = star

la nube = cloud

la lluvia = rain

la nieve = snow

la tormenta = storm la tempestad = storm, tempest

el rayo = lightning / bolt, lightning bolt, thunderbolt

el trueno = thunder

el granizo = hail / hailstone

la niebla = fog

la neblina = mist, fog

~

el amanecer = dawn

la mañana = morning

el mediodía = midday, noon

la tarde = afternoon / evening

el atardecer = evening

el crepúsculo = twilight

la noche = night

la medianoche = midnight

la madrugada = early morning, the wee hours of the morning

la víspera = eve (of something), the night before

el ocaso = sunset

diurno/a = day (adj), daytime / diurnal, awake during the day

nocturno/a = night (adj), nighttime / nocturnal, awake at night [as a general example las clases nocturnas mean “night classes” which is literally “classes at night”... as opposed to las clases diurnas which would mean “daytime classes”; in the context of school you could say tengo una clase nocturna y otras diurnas “I have one night class and others during the day”]

~

el árbol = tree arbóreo/a = arboreal, related to trees

el arbusto = shrub, shrubbery

el seto = hedge

la madera = wood

el tronco = trunk / log [also in anatomy “torso”]

el tocón = stump (of a tree)

la leña = firewood, log (for firewood usually) el leño = a log el leñador, la leñadora = woodcutter, lumberjack

la corteza = bark (of a tree) [also means “crust” for bread or the earth]

la copa (de árbol) = canopy las copas = canopy (of many trees)

la rama = branch

la raíz = root

la savia = sap [sometimes it also means “lifeblood” or “vitality” or “vigor”]

la hoja = leaf [or “blade”, or “sheet of paper”]

la flor = flower

el pétalo = petal

la semilla = seed

el tallo = stalk / stem

la hierba = grass / herb [sometimes spelled yerba] el césped = grass, lawn

la hierba mala = weed [lit. “bad grass”]

la especia = spice

la vid = vine

marchitado/a = withered, shriveled, dried up

la espina = thorn espinoso/a = thorny

la baya = berry

la hiedra = ivy la hiedra venenosa = poison ivy

el hongo = mushroom, fungus la seta = mushroom, toadstool el champiñón = mushroom [idk if it’s used everywhere but you see this at least in Spain for edible mushrooms sometimes]

el moho = mold

el musgo = moss

el liquen = lichen

la zarza = bramble, briar

silvestre = wild, growing in the wild

comestible = edible

el veneno = poison, venom envenenar = to poison venenoso/a = poisonous, venomous envenenado/a = poisoned, having poison in it

letal, mortal = deadly

~

el roble = oak

el arce = maple

el sauce = willow el sauce llorón = weeping willow

el fresno = ash tree

la pícea = spruce

el acebo = holly

la haya = beech

el pino = pine tree

el corno / el cornejo = dogwood

el álamo = poplar

el alcornoque = cork tree

la adelfa = oleander

la secoya = sequoia / redwood

el mangle = mangrove el manglar = mangroves [a collection of mangroves]

~

la rosa = rose

la violeta = violet

el lirio = lily [sometimes la azucena]

el jacinto = hyacinth

la hortensia = hydrangea

el girasol = sunflower

la malva = mallow [malva can also be “mauve”; also el malvavisco is “marshmallow”... literally “sticky/goopy/viscous mallow”]

la malvarrosa = hollyhock

el botón de oro = buttercup [lit. “gold button”]

la digital = foxglove

el narciso = daffodil, narcissus

la lavanda = lavender

la lila = lilac

la nomeolvides = forget-me-not

el loto = lotus

la menta = mint

la caléndula = marigold

la belladonna = nightshade

el acónito = aconite / aconitum, monk’s hood, wolf’s bane el matalobos = wolf’s bane [lit. “kills wolves”]

el muérdago = mistletoe

el rocío = dew, dewdrop, morning dew

el ajo = garlic el diente de ajo = clove of garlic [lit. “tooth of garlic”]

la cebolla = onion

la calabaza = pumpkin / gourd

el maíz = corn [also el elote in some countries] la mazorca = corncob, ear of corn

el trigo = wheat

la salvia = sage

el jengibre = ginger

la canela = cinnamon

el diente de león = dandelion [lit. “lion’s tooth”]

la escoba de bruja = witch hazel [lit. “witch’s broom”] el avellano de bruja = witch hazel [lit. “witch’s hazel”]

la pimienta = pepper [spice]

la sal = salt rociar sal = to sprinkle salt espolvear sal = to sprinkle salt / to dust with salt

~

la hoz = sickle

el arado = plow

la hoguera = bonfire / campfire, fire pit

el hogar = home / hearth

la guadaña = scythe

la cosecha = harvest

el arco = bow / arch

la flecha = arrow

el mortero = mortar el molcajete = mortar [some countries, especially Mexico]

la mano = pestle [otherwise it’s “hand”]

el mortero y mano = mortar and pestle

moler = to grind molido/a = ground

el molino = mill

la tabla / el tablón = floorboard, wooden board

la viga = beam / rafter

el umbral = threshold

el muro = wall, outside wall, boundary line

la cerca = fence la valla = fence

la ciudad = city

el pueblo = town / people, population

la aldea = town, small town

la frontera = frontier, border

el claro = clearing (in a forest), glade

la choza = hut

la casita = little house la cabaña = cabin / cottage

la granja = farm

la finca = plantation, estate, farmhouse

la paja = straw el tejado de paja = thatched roof [lit. “straw roofing”]

el taller = workshop

~

la cueva = cave

la caverna = cavern

la gruta = grotto / undercroft

la roca = rock

la piedra = stone

el monte = hill, mountain / wilderness, forested area

la montaña = mountain

la sierra = mountain range [or a “saw” as a tool]

la colina = hill

la falda = slope [in clothes la falda is “skirt”]

el pantano = swamp / bog / mire

la ciénaga = swamp / bog / mire

el lodo = mud lodoso/a = muddy

el fango = mud / silt fangoso/a = muddy

el río = river el riachuelo = little river, stream

el lago = lake

el estanque = pond

el arroyo = stream el arroyuelo = brook, creek

el mar = sea

el océano = ocean

la orrilla = shore

la marea = tide

la arena = sand

~

el ciervo = deer, stag la cierva = deer, doe

el venado = deer [can exist in feminine as well... this word also sometimes gets translated as “hart”; also sometimes venado is the word for “venison” or deer meat]

el lobo, la loba = wolf [la loba is sometimes “she-wolf” in some contexts]

el oso, la osa = bear [la osa is sometimes “she-bear”]

el búho = owl

la lechuza = owl [thing barn owls or snowy owls; the owls with a flatter looking face; a Lechuza is also sometimes a witch or evil spirit who snatches children said to be bird-like]

el cuervo = crow la corneja = raven [in general, el cuervo is used for both “crow” and “raven” even in literature, though el cuervo and la corneja are different technically]

el murciélago = bat

el sapo = toad

la rana = frog

la serpiente = snake, serpent la víbora = viper, snake la culebra = snake [more literary]

el conejo = rabbit la liebre = hare, rabbit

el gato, la gata = cat

la rata / el ratón = rat, mouse [largely interchangeable]

la mosca = fly

el mosquito = mosquito

la luciérnaga = firefly, lightning bug

la libébula = dragonfly

la pluma = feather

el diente = tooth

el colmillo = fang

el ala = wing [technically feminine; el ala, las alas]

la lengua = tongue

el hueso = bone

la calavera / el cráneo = skull

el cuerno = horn

el asta, las astas = antler, antlers [technically feminine]

la piel = skin / hide, fur [also piel can be “leather”; also the word el cuero is “leather” though not always as common]

el caracol = shell, seashell

el caparazón = shell, carapace

el polvo = dust

la ceniza = ash

la sangre = blood

~

el enano, la enana = dwarf

el elfo, la elfa = elf

el fantasma = ghost

el gigante = giant

el ogro = ogre

el trol = troll [creature and internet troll]

hermoso/a = beautiful apuesto/a = handsome, good-looking

bello/a = beautiful [more intense than hermoso/a]

embrujado/a = bewitched / haunted

la casa embrujada = haunted house la casa encantada = haunted house

la fiera = fiend, beast, wild animal fiero/a = wild, ferocious

feroz = ferocious, wild

la bestia = beast

el monstruo = monster

el castillo = castle

la torre = tower

la mazmorra = dungeon el calabozo = dungeon [in modern Spanish el calabozo is the word for “holding cells” in a police office or a place where someone is detained; in older Spanish it can be used as “dungeon”]

el don = gift

el poder = power, ability poderoso/a = powerful, mighty

el truco = trick

la moraleja = moral

encantar = to enchant / to delight

convocar = to summon

conceder = to grant, to bestow / to concede

bendecir = to bless bendito/a = blessed

maldecir = to curse maldito/a = cursed

#Spanish #learn Spanish #learning Spanish #spanish vocabulary #langblr #learning languages #vocabulario #so much vocab

[vickysaurus]

It's the season 2 intro, and what a great job it does of showing how far we've come. All the main characters get to show off their magic on a fairly even footing, instead of bumbling apprentice Luz and competent Eda. Willow, Gus, and Amity now fully join in, instead of just being briefly-featured side-characters. And we've now found the villains: Lilith (formerly), Hunter, and Kikimora featured underneath the Coven system's symbols and, of course, Emperor Belos. The chase sequence at the end is similar, but set at sunset, rather than midday, matching the darker tone of this season. And finally, we get the various glyph magics erupting from the title card.

#intro #the owl house #owl house rewatch #toh #i guess i never posted about the original intro

[vacantgodling]

REN!!!! gimme the oldies!!!!!!!!!!! I need to be not normal about Dave & Estel &c. ~@void-botanist

ROSE!!!!!! god i'm so not normal about estel and dave like good GOD im not normal about them.

so in the spirit of not being normal about them i decided to partially clean up a piece i've had sitting in my notes for a BRICK cuz i was on the bus home and rotating them like crazy. so, for the backdrop: its been about.... 4 or 5 years removed from the end of vdtrt and dave has moved from ny to washington state to be closer to nature and to start taking photos and stuff. darren and olice are both out of the house; darren has been traveling with gabe and spending time with his relatives, friends and the coven tm, and olice has started college but he HAS formally adopted her. so this happens during the semester; dave gets an unexpected visitor that he hasn't seen in about a year :eye emoji: -- i didn't finish rewriting it fully cuz i'm on the bus and i really just wanted to rewrite the beginning part atm, but dave and estel are in a relationship on the DL at this point. darren suspects that he may be seeing someone, olice has no idea, and lizette CERTAINLY doesn't know that her ex is seeing her father-figure PFFFF. when i do get around to finishing this piece i want it to have the two of them talking about making their relationship more concrete, estel spending more time with dave (basically dave asks him to move in even though he knows it won't "tie estel down" and estel makes dave promise that once olice graduates that the two of them travel together because he wants to show dave the WORLD tm and they're also gonna talk about breaking the news to darren, olice and lizzie ehel em ay oh)

BUT IM STALLING ANYWAY HAVE GAYS:

##

An insistent rap to the door of his cabin is what finally roused Dave from his midday siesta on his horribly comfortable couch. He always told himself that he really should make it upstairs whenever he wanted to sleep; it would be better for his back, but he always found himself here around 3pm, watching some show he couldn’t remember the name of, and dozing—sometimes not waking until it was near 9 o’clock and the sun had already bid the jutting mountains and tiny town he called home adieu. And, looking at the clock, whoever knocked had spared him the crick in his neck, since it was only 5:30. Strange however, he wasn’t expecting anyone in particular today, at this time. He rubbed his eyes and located his glasses buried in the fuzzy soft rug just beneath the horrible comfy couch, and dropped his legs down from it to stand, wriggling his bare toes against its softness. 

The rap sounded at the door again.

“Coming!” Dave called, and ambled over to it. He racked his mind to think; had he promised his lovely neighbors Gloria and Darlene that he would come by to play cribbage this evening? Or did Mr. Sawson finally (finally) decide to return his hose—after what, six months of holding it hostage? Dave really should buy another one, Darren said so the last time they’d facetimed, but it was about the principle, dammit. 

But, neither the sweet if pushy elderly lesbian couple nor the misery Mr. Sawson awaited him when he peered out of the peephole. In fact, aside from Darren or Olice, it was probably the person he most looked forward to seeing at any given moment. 

Dave quickly undid the locks and threw open the door. 

“Estel!” 

“Darling!” Before Dave knew it, long arms wound around him and pulled him close, right there in the middle of the threshold. Dave wrapped his arms around the tall vampire’s waist and they swayed there to some invisible song that only Estel could hear. He often talked about how the universe was full of sounds that his human mind couldn’t hear nor comprehend. 

He’d also said that the song of Dave’s happiness was one of his favorite melodies. 

After a long moment, Estel pulled back to see his face. He cupped Dave’s cheeks with long, lithe fingers. “The starlight’s in your beard now!” He cooed sweetly—starlight in this case referring to the streaks of white that were now more often than incidental in Dave’s beard. Dave was honestly surprised it was taking his beard so long to go fully gray; at only 50 his hair was already white like snow, but he could blame his father for that, who started graying at 30. It seemed his beard was only now in the past year getting the memo, and as it was, Dave chuckled softly in his chest, his cheeks growing warm at the praise.  

“Are you going to let me close the door, Es?” He asked teasingly, but it was fond. Estel laughed and it was like wind chimes. But instead of letting go of Dave, he instead let his arms fall down to Dave’s waist, pulled him in tighter and spun them, gently closing the front door of the cabin with one hand while pressing Dave into it with the other. In this position, Dave’s hands slid from Estel’s waist to the planes of his chest—and he’d probably still never get used to looking up at him like this. Estel didn’t waste time and crowded in, looping one finger in the loop of Dave’s jeans to pull him into a mind numbingly deep, thorough kiss—like he was drowning and Dave was the only source of air. 

Dave gasped into his mouth in surprise but easily opened up to his insistent tongue, feeling his knees go weak and suddenly very thankful the door was there to help prop him up. When Estel finally pulled back and gave him a smug, satisfied little smile and Dave couldn’t help but smile back, a bit self conscious, and hit Estel’s chest lightly. The room brightened once more with Estel’s laugh. 

“You always make such funny faces when I kiss you Dave, dear! I can’t help but want to kiss you more.” Estel illustrated his point by leaning in and sucking the soul out of Dave’s lips once more until Dave finally had to push him back to breathe. 

“Es!” He exclaimed with a breathless laugh. “Can’t you tell I’ve missed you dear?” Estel peppered kisses all over Dave’s face and what else could Dave do but let him?

#ren writing #s: vdtrt #s: darren and co #IM SO DOUSCJLVNLJVDFS #ABOUT THEMMMMMM #THEMBBBBB #THEYYYYYYYYYY AUGH #I LOVE THESE OLD FUCKS SM #i could ramble more about them but augh i leave it here unless someone asks for more and i am released from this cage

[weaselishmcdiesel]

PESTERING YOU EARLY

Also just thought you should know that stiff and I have decided that cringefail coven collectively has (1) souls. We share :]

anyways love you,, it feels weird doing this midday

NOT THE EARLY PESTER AAAA I'D NEVER SEE IT COMING

YAY! ONE SOUL! i should really draw that sona sometime soon <3 asdkjfh so we can start casting spells together 🥺

#weasel speaks #asks!

[jaythelay]

See what I love about Dark Souls 1 is that at any point, you're not unreasonable to call a section bullshit, or that it wasn't playtested enough, that you got screwed over, you're only unreasonable when you quit.

Dark souls is as good as it is, distinctly because, and just as bad, it didn't have time to polish it into a bland-er experience.

Exploits, or glitches, seperate things in this context, are such a vital part of games when done right, well, when they accidentally happen right. Being able to skip bosses or sections you do or don't like is incredible. It does become a repeated thing in playthroughs aswell.

The other part that Dark Souls 1 and only Dark Souls 1 has taught the player, is that there is, in fact, a design, someone, who designed it to be beaten. Not just the generic slogging through actually bullshit bosses and enemies, wave after wave, in a task that the designer after beating it once just said was fine as is.

Literally every game becomes both more replayable, and completely discardable. On one hand, actually trying to learn what the designer meant for me to do is fun and worthwhile in ways I never played before, a real "turn off my brain and only tryhard" to "take time to figure it out and then master it" mentality switch.

I guess after the 360-PS3 era I really did regress in appreciation and ability to learn more about gaming. Because seriously, Dark Souls, a game from 2011, is still, still kicking every other company's ass in some of the most basic designs.

What I love most about DS1 however, above it all, is that most games are designed as hallways, as a "board" from an NES game but in 3D. Like, here's the turret section, the hide behind wall shoot-a-man section, the story section, etc etc.

DS1 feels like they did that, but the entirety of it is within one board. I don't mind Anor Londo or the Painted World being so seperate because they feel like rewarding new areas meant to be played outside of the original board you'd been playing the whole time.

Like there's a teleport coffin you can go to near instantly if you have 4 eyes of death, that takes you past an impassable fog wall, to establish a covenant with one of the 4 final bosses, and it's all, on the same "board", even if the tomb of giants feel seperated, it's still apart of the walkable, non-tele world design.

Finding a shortcut to firelink shrine, finding the secret teleport back to the tutorial area with new enemies and a boss, going from the always midday firelink shrine and undead burg, to the always night woods, then, after travsering the dark pits of Sen's Fortress, seeing sun break through the small window, reaching the outside to see for the first time, the sun setting, a long day passed of a lot of work is felt, and it never crosses your mind the time of day because these areas are so entrensically designed with hidden but fair enemies with their own special moves that are readable.

It's genuinely the height of gaming. The combat, in my opinion, is the weakest aspect, it's not that it's bad, it's just not as strong as everything else, but that I believe was on purpose.

DS3 and onward are too fucking fast, and every enemy has it's own trick attack bs that punishes everything in ways you simply cannot possibly counter.

DS1 every attack was readable. Even Artorias, my favorite boss fight, is readable, you're not a fucking anime character swooping up and swinging fast as shit, you're just Some Dude. Your magic is in knowledge, or faith, if not fire. But intrinsically you are not special. Every enemy is capable of taking you down, your goal is to become strong enough that you can treat them with the same passively murderous attitude they gave you 20 deaths ago.

And the enemies weren't anime either. They were all slow chubby fucks, but like a fat pregnant spider, that shit can still move fast as shit when it needs to. For the most part you can keep the camera still aswell.

DS1 combat is mechanical, I've heard Sekiro described as a dance game, I'd use that vision, but make it gears, mechanical, as perfect fit as you can make your gear into another gear's teeth.

Enemy attacks, you can Parry, attack faster than them, dodge, block, but what makes it matter, is Poise. How many punches to the groin can I fit in this very mechanical 1-5 seconds before they flinch. How many can I?

The pace of the game was 100% in your hands. That, is why it's unreasonable to quit, because every single aspect was designed for you the player to take advantage of in some measure. Whether exploring alternative paths or areas, upgrading equipment and stats, using different weapons, or even items which were never a requirement, but they're a solid spice I feel is heavily required in souls games as such. Not just "increases stamina for a short while" but more "I can save 3 close range hits with 10 distant throwing knives"

Man, I love DS1, but man, it's a mixed bag of really bad designs and unplaytested sections, but those moments where it strings along good after good, just for, like, exploring the game's mechanics and shit the developer's thought or didn't think of. It's great. And the best part, is it's not necessarily obvious, but you can actually plan, concieve of what to try next if the previous idea failed.

Anyways, if Dark Souls had the time to be polished, I guarantee it'd been better in some aspects, but we'd have lost actual magic in the lack of "invisible walls" to player ingenuity.

This can, be a problem of course, you don't want a really dumb flaw to get passed, but you also have to just let the player be smarter than the designer sometimes. There's genuinely very very few games where exploiting the game can be done top to bottom as a playstyle choice, that isn't a speedrun, but you, get this, Just, Playing, Around.

Dark Souls is such a playbox for the gamer. You ever, like, wanted a boss fight that was fun, cool looking, and actually challenging without being Sans from Undertale 50 times over? You ever, like, wanted to upgrade your limited heals, and the amount they do, without grinding just exploration? And then that gets taken away for you to save, all on your own?

You ever, like, hate a boss fight, and just wanted to do a different boss fight? Or even skip an entire section of the game? With or without exploits or glitches? Dark so.

I'm really just thinking about it because playing Elden Ring makes me upset. Dark Souls was a well rounded game based on the last 2 decades of gaming, and Elden Ring... Feels like the last 3... There's still 2 good to decent decades but man...that 3rd decade is harsh. Feels like Fromsoft wanted to kill Ubisoft titles by making the ultimate checklist game, in more ways than one.

#dark souls #elden ring

[serendipity-writes]

Boys Will Be Boys (That's the Way That This Thing Goes)

Written for Harringrove Week July 2022! No prompt, just silliness

Fics for this event: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Rated Gen, 2.2k

Summary:

“Isn’t it strange, how they get along so well now?” Martha whispers to the group one day as Steve takes up his new usual position by Billy’s side. “I thought they were at each other’s throats.”

Karen hums in agreement. She’s seen Steve around; it’s nice that he’s making more friends his age, considering how much time he spends with all the kids. Why it has to be Billy, she doesn’t know, but she supposes it’s not her place to make value judgements on that sort of thing.

read on ao3

--

Karen Wheeler doesn’t spend an inordinate amount of time at the Hawkins community pool. It’s just that it’s so hot in the summer, and there really isn’t much to do in Hawkins at any given time. So unless she wants to be slow-roasted in her own house, which isn’t particularly appealing, her only option is the pool.

The presence of a certain… attractive young lifeguard is just a lucky bonus.

The other one, Heather, Karen thinks, uncrosses her legs and hops down from the chair. “Ladies,” Karen murmurs, because it’s time. She hears the faint rustling and muted whispers that come with her friends adjusting themselves for the main event, but she keeps her eyes glued to the door Heather disappeared through.

Sure enough, he emerges mere moments later, toned arms and bronzed chest sparkling in the midday sun like a Greek god. He strides out onto the concrete, pausing on his way to the chair like does every day.

“Hello, ladies,” he says, the low rumble of his voice entirely too smooth and sultry for their location.

“Hi Billy,” they chorus back. He grins at them, all teeth and charm, nearly blinding in the sunlight.

“You’re looking hot today,” he tells them. “Remember to stay cool out here.” It would be an innocent enough comment, if not for the look in his eyes.

Karen swears he’s staring straight at her as he winks and walks away.

The rest of her “coven of wine moms,” as Nancy so elegantly describes them, titter behind her, but she doesn’t bother to engage. Every once in a while, Billy will toss a smile her way.

Yes, the pool is the place to be.

* * *

That Tuesday is shaping up to be a real scorcher. Ted barely blinks an eye when Karen tells him she’s headed to the pool. Bitterness rises in her chest like bile for a moment before she puts it out of her mind. She’s got bigger, better things to focus on.

She times her arrival perfectly, having just settled in when Heather’s shift ends. Billy takes her place as usual, with his customary greeting to Karen and her friends. He looks so relaxed up on the lifeguard’s chair, like he knows he can handle anything that’s thrown his way. Something about that easy confidence makes Karen hot under the collar, so she settles back against her pool chair, magazine held up in front of her face so she can watch Billy over the edge of it.

About half an hour later, something strange happens. Namely, Billy shadows his eyes with his hand, squints into the sun, and shouts, “Harrington! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Karen looks toward the gate to the pool, where Steve Harrington has appeared with five children in tow. One of them is hers, she realizes as Mike elbows Will’s arm and leans close to whisper into his ear. Dustin and Lucas are there too, as well as a redheaded girl Karen vaguely recognizes as Billy’s sister.

She turns back to Billy, a little wary. His voice was laced with a challenge, and everyone in Hawkins has heard the rumors about their fight last November. Karen hadn’t had the misfortune to see the aftermath herself, but from what little she’d picked up from her kids, it wasn’t pretty.

But Billy doesn’t seem like he’s going to get up from his perch, and Steve doesn’t look particularly threatened either.

“The brats wanted to come to the pool,” he calls back, because they’re still at opposite ends of it, “and I had the day off. So, you know, here I am.” He says it with the kind of weariness that Karen associates with parenting preteens, a weariness she knows well. Steve’s turned into a good kid.

“Lucky you,” Billy sneers. Steve’s too far away for Karen to really see his expression, but she’d put money on him rolling his eyes so hard he sees his brain.

He ignores Billy after that, turning to the children and speaking to them softly before letting them free. He doesn’t swim himself, just takes a seat in a chair across the way from Karen, fully shaded by an umbrella, and slides a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. After a few minutes, Karen’s pretty sure he’s asleep.

Billy dons sunglasses as well, and doesn’t flash her a single grin until Steve’s gone.

* * *

It becomes something of a regular occurrence after that, Steve showing up with a varying number of other people’s children a couple of days a week. Usually he claims a chair and immediately passes out on it, although sometimes he brings a notebook along and spends hours with his head bent over the pages, scribbling away like he’ll die if he stops. And once or twice, he arrives in swim trunks and slathers more sunscreen on himself than Karen makes Mike wear, which is really saying something. Somehow, he still comes out the other side looking mildly burned.

Whenever Steve is there, it’s like Billy forgets Karen even exists.

* * *

Maybe three weeks into this, Billy calls Steve out like he always does, but instead of shooting some thinly veiled aggression his way and leaving him be, he beckons Steve over. The hesitation in Steve’s movements is painfully obvious, but he walks over to the lifeguard’s chair anyway, coming to stand under the umbrella. Billy starts talking to him, quietly now that they aren’t separated by a hundred feet of splashing water and screaming children. With a sigh, Karen drops her eyes to her Cosmo and actually reads it for the first time in her life. When she glances up about an hour later, Steve is just walking away from the chair, Billy staring after him as he goes.

He doesn’t come by the next three days, and Billy’s back to being his usual charming self.

* * *

The next time Steve shows up, he’s brought someone his age in addition to the ever-present children. She’s somewhat tall, with sandy brown hair and a slightly awkward gait. Karen can tell just by her posture that she’s not thrilled about being here. She pulls Steve aside to talk to him while the kids gleefully jump in the water, swatting him gently on the shoulder when he says something she evidently doesn’t like. But then she shakes her head and flaps a hand at him, collapsing into a chair when he walks away. Karen hasn’t heard anything from Nancy about Steve dating someone new, but she thinks they make a nice couple.

The redheaded girl seems to like her too, taking the chair next to her rather than joining the boys in the pool. The older girl ruffles her hair like Nancy used to do to Mike when he was younger. It’s cute.

Steve, strangely enough, heads straight for Billy. He crosses his arms over his chest, obviously more at ease than the last time they had spoken. Karen’s all for mending bridges, but she has to admit it’s a bit unexpected.

* * *

Billy starts keeping a closer eye on the gate. Karen only knows because she still keeps a close eye on him, like Ted keeps a close eye on his newspaper.

* * *

“Isn’t it strange, how they get along so well now?” Martha whispers to the group one day as Steve takes up his new usual position by Billy’s side. “I thought they were at each other’s throats.”

Karen hums in agreement. She’s seen Steve around; it’s nice that he’s making more friends his age, considering how much time he spends with all the kids. Why it has to be Billy, she doesn’t know, but she supposes it’s not her place to make value judgements on that sort of thing.

* * *

Billy absolutely roars with raucous laughter, slapping his leg and drawing every eye in the pool to him. “Full of surprises, Harrington!” he shouts, loud enough for the Carsons down the road to hear him. “Who knew!”

Next to him, leaning against the arm of the lifeguard’s chair, Steve is smiling like he’s holding back his own mirth. Karen rolls her eyes. Boys.

* * *

On the rare occasion that Steve is off doing something else, Billy’s gaze follows him around the pool.

* * *

Billy and Steve are sharing a cigarette by the end of the pool.

Billy smokes all the time, despite the No Smoking signs posted everywhere. But he’s the kind of guy who will chew out anyone else trying to light up with his cigarette still dangling from his lip. It’s alluring, his flagrant disregard for the rules combined with the obvious double standard.

But now, Karen thinks as she watches Billy hand the cigarette to Steve, watches Steve take a long drag before passing it back, that double standard seems to extend to the other boy.

It’s almost funny, when Billy yells “Hey!” and points threateningly at a kid that probably went to school with them. He’s got his lighter halfway to the cigarette held between his teeth, frozen with confusion rather than fear. “Can you not fucking read?” Billy shouts, gesturing with the hand holding his own cigarette at the sign on the fence just behind the offender.

“But—you—” the kid starts, pointing back at Billy, then at Steve, who plucks the cigarette from Billy’s fingers and inhales deeply, blowing the smoke out with a smug smile. “Him—”

“Ah,” Billy cuts him off. “Put it away. Rules are rules.”

The other kid looks like he’s going to keep protesting for a moment before the fight drains out of him and he shoves his hands in his pockets, kicking rocks as he flees with his tail between his legs. Billy and Steve share a look before cracking up silently into their fists, Billy leaning dramatically against the back of his seat and Steve nearly bent double.

Steve’s girlfriend, who’s been accompanying him to the pool more often recently, rolls her eyes with her whole body even while sitting. Karen is inclined to agree.

* * *

Billy hasn’t looked her way in days. It’s starting to feel like she’s back in her own home.

* * *

Heather slides down from the lifeguard’s chair to the excitement of every woman at the pool. Karen positions herself carefully on her pool chair, casually showing off the new bathing suit she bought at the mall yesterday. Ted hadn’t said anything that morning, of course, but Billy’s always been very observant and liberal with his praise. It’s harmless, really. Just a bit of an ego boost.

Except Heather leaves the locker room with her things and Billy still hasn’t come out to take his station. Which, truthfully, is surprising, because whatever else one might say about his professional demeanor, Billy is always punctual.

Two minutes pass, then five, and the concerned whispers around her are just starting to grate when she feels a touch at her shoulder. When she turns, Mike is standing next to her, dripping wet and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Hey Mom,” he starts, returning her slightly confused smile. “Can I have some money, please? Will and I want popsicles.”

“Of course, sweetie,” she replies, reaching into her bag to pull out a couple of neatly folded dollar bills. “Is Steve here with you?”

Mike shrugs, taking the offered money. “Yeah, he brought us here, but I don’t know where he went. Thanks!” He runs off before she can question him further, looping his arm over Will’s shoulders as they walk to the concession stand. There’s still no lifeguard on duty.

“All right, ladies,” Karen says, unfolding herself from the chair and standing up. “I think it’s about time for someone to check up on this public safety violation.” She makes for the locker rooms before the rest of the women have a chance to respond. At the very least, that bitch Doris would try to convince them to let her go instead.

Inside the building there’s a clear sign indicating that the men’s locker room is to the left and the women’s is on the right. Karen knocks on the wall outside the men’s side, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. “Billy?” she calls.

His response comes almost immediately. “Karen?” he asks, sounding startled. She supposes it’s a fair reaction.

“Heather went home for the day,” she explains, “and there’s no lifeguard on duty right now. Some of us parents are a little concerned.”

It takes him a moment to reply this time. “You’ve caught me at a bad time,” he says, voice quite steady if that’s the case. “I’ll be out in just a moment.”

“Alright,” she says slowly. When he doesn’t offer anything else, she pads out of the building.

True to his word, Billy strides to the chair after barely thirty seconds have passed, tossing her a suggestive wink as he takes his seat. She smiles back over the top of her Cosmo, licking her lips briefly.

Several minutes later, Steve comes out of the locker room, rolling his shoulders like he was just lifting something. He slides onto the chair next to his girlfriend’s, popping his sunglasses on and leaning his head closer to her so they can talk. Billy keeps glancing over at them as they laugh together, and even though Steve’s eyes are obscured, it’s clear enough from the tilt of his head that he’s looking at Billy too.

Karen doesn’t really understand their friendship, but stranger things have happened in Hawkins, Indiana.

* * *

(She realizes pretty quickly after that that trying to draw Billy's attention away from Steve is an exercise in futility.)

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #my writing #stranger things #fanfic #billy x steve #steve x billy #HarringroveWeek

[qursidae]

I saw this meme on reddit and it gave me major Emilia/Miyako vibes so I HAD to

[Carrd 🃏]

#midday coven #emilia woods #miyako tsukimura #oc #ocs #original characters #i KNOW its meant as like goth vs pink or something which they arent but still yall #ALSO im ship tagging this #emiyako #?? Should that be the ship name im torn #miyalia #??

[howhow326]

Time to post my Bayonetta oc (Brother Hapi) combo list for Bayo 3 out of pocket!

Covenant Ark Techniques

"Fox Within" Double Dodge (Hapi transforms into a fox to travel the land at high speeds)

"Peacock Within" Hold Jump button (Hapi transforms into a peacock to travel the air at high speeds. While in this form, Hapi can summon feathers that can be used as weapons against enemies)

"Hummingbird Within" Dodge while hit (Hapi transforms into a flock of Hummingbirds to dodge attacks at the last second. He cannot activate Light Speed this way)

"Lumen Spear" double tap Lock On button (Hapi charges at his foes in the form of a peacock)

"Archery Arts" Tap Shoot button (Hapi fires arrows of light from his bow)

"Triple Arrow Strike" Hold Shoot button (Hapi charges his bow with magic and fires three arrows in a spread shot)

"Midday Sun Shoot" <- P (Hapi does a sword attack that launches himself and his target into the air. Using the charge modifier extends the attack)

"Wave Crash" <- K (Hapi casts a spell that summons an explosion of water underneath his target, launching them into the air. Charging the attack increases the damage and size of the attack)

"Blinding Thrust" ->-> P (Hapi lunges at his target while thrusting at them with his swords)

"Riptide" ->-> K (Hapi teleports backwards and performs the first step in the KKKK combo fully charged. Pressing the K button again finishes thr combo normally)

"Principality" Jump P (Hapi swings his swords above him like a helicopter, lifting himself and his foe into the air)

"Dominion" Jump K (Hapi rapidly ascends while riding Covenant Ark in Bow form, lifting himself and his foe into the air)

"Impale" <- -> P (Hapi summons a sword Holy Feather underneath his target, launching them into the air)

"Cherub Missile" <- -> K (Hapi fires one of Sapientia's missiles at his target, doing massive damage. Charging this attack increases it's damage)

"Blazing Wheel" circle P (Hapi twirls around while slashing outward with his whip-swords, knocking back foes when he is finished. Charging this attack increases it's duration)

"Icy Red Sea" circle K (Hapi launches icicles all around him, damaging any for they make contact with. Quickly tapping the K button makes Hapi execute the same attack again and again for a total of five times)

"Mink Unleashed" circle Shoot (Hapi transforms into a mink to travel the waters at high speeds and darts around the battlefield in a circle, dealing AoE damage to everything on screen)

Covenant Ark combos

PPPPP (A light whip-sword combo that launches Hapi into the air during the 4th step only to come crashing down with a massive sword Holy Feather during the 5th step. Using the chrage modifier sets up an extra sword slash that does AoE damage)

KKKK (A heavy attack, ranged spell combo that starts with launching a orb of water at your target, follows up with an explosion of water underneath your target that launches them into the air, fires 5 icicles at the target during 3rd step, and finishes with an overhead strike of icy magic at the target. Each step in the combo can be charged. The 3rd and final step can freeze enemies when charged)

PKP (A fast sword and spell combo that ends in a sword Holy Feather)

PKK (A fast sword and spell combo that ends by launching Sapientia's missle at enemies)

PPKKK (A long sword and spell combo that ends using the last 3 steps from the KKKK combo)

PPPKKK (A long sword and spell combo that starts by using the first 3 steps from the PPPPP combo, the 2nd step of the KKKK combo, the 4th step of the KKKK combo, and finishes with an overhead fists slam from Sapientia)

PPKP/PPPKP (A sword and spell combo that ends by launching enemies into the air using a sword Holy Feather)

PPPPK (A sword and spell combo that uses the first 4 steps of the PPPPP combo, and finishes by summoning Sapientia's bitting head underneath the target to launch them into the air)

#bayonetta oc #lumen sage oc #Sapientia

[spilledblccd]

Muses: Carlisle & Alice Location: Cullen Household Tag: @xsvcrilege

Despite the fact that Carlisle wasn't supernaturally gifted like some other vampires, his coven members included, that didn't mean that he couldn't feel when something was off. There was something in the air that wasn't settling well with him. Something was coming and he wasn't sure what it was. He just knew that he felt off. And he could only chalk it up to his vampire senses tingling - as cliché as it sounded. Seeing as how it was his off day, he was lingering around the Cullen household, enjoying his time off. However, there was one thing that he planned on doing that day - and that was talking to Alice about the possibility of something being wrong. He waited until about midday, when everyone else was focusing on one thing or another. He found himself standing outside of Alice's shared bedroom with Jasper, a gentle smile on his face. "Alice - are you busy? Would you like to come hunting with me?"

#xsvcrilege #( carlisle interaction. ) #( carlisle and alice. )

[fenrirswood-hq]

WEDNESDAY…

… counts a week after the Empty Spot found at the Duck’s Pond. The term has now officially been coined by the local Supernatural community for lack of better. Cold spot was also an option, but with the spots being devoid of Spirits, empty made more sense.

The third larger Empty Spot was found by a Witch from Hel Coven during their midday walk, already warned of the feel and look of the place, the Witch was too caught up in their murder mystery podcast to notice, and passed right through the barrier. 

The Witch was found several hours later and brought to the hospital, and Brann’s Peak too was locked off from the world, with local police ensuring a police vehicle remains present at every moment of the day.

Ooc; the supernaturals have been told about said spots and asked to keep away. Slowly the regular humans of Fenrir’s Wood have been noticing these places being under full lock-down, and the police has had its hands full with addressing the situation.

#fwhqplot #supernatural rpg #lsrp #oc rp #city rp #mystery rp #supernatural rp

[adelitaflores]

All this come to an end

Closed starter @marsdenlee

Location: Outskirt of town

Time: Midday

Today was the day that Adelita was finally going to do what she should have done the day she had given birth to her daughter. She was cutting ties. Emotional, physical, though not fiscal, or entirely. Just ... emotionally. You see, Maria-Elena was Adelita’s first and only child. To Adelita’s knowledge Maria-Elena would be the first Flores descendent not to inherit the title of Priestess/Priest when the time came that her mother passed on. Not just because Adelita was finally giving her up for good, but also because Adelita was the first Priestess to insist the next in line should be chosen based on merit instead of blood. 

As one of the few Priestesses/Priests in Helka’s Own history that had taken on the role out of necessity, Adelita had no idea of the biological pull that Maria-Elena might experience as an adult, should she become a witch. Despite the hours and days and months that Adelita had spent trawling the town’s coven’s private library, as well as the towns, she still had no idea if the pull to greatness was even a real thing or just a notion perpetuated by archaic and narcissistic beliefs held by previous Priests and Priestesses. 

As such, Adelita would need to keep an eye. From afar. For the good of her coven, for the good of her reputation... and ultimately, for the good of Maria-Elena. This all being said, she was terminating the current situation, whereby she visited regularly and played part time mother. It would in time do more damage, and honestly... it was a distraction Adelita could not afford.

As such, she currently stood leaning against one of the huge black vehicles she was usually driven about in, dressed in a thick, long designer white trench coat, matching healed boots designed for torture instead of walking, with a pair of Dolce shades covering her tear stained red eyes. To her chest, she held a long slender white envelope. The weather was near freezing, and the thick dark, greying curls flowing about her did not help keep the goose bumps from dotting the back of her neck. Still, despite the cold, the High Priestess stood tall, waiting patiently for the father of her child to arrive. 

#giving up a child tw #marsdenlee #mariaelenalee #adelitaflores

[ao3feed-ineffablehusbandz]

Witches Really Do Work Naked

by JonsiGray

Things are going well and Aziraphale is really getting into the spirit of nature with the coven, that is until he's confronted with a situation that makes him unsure of himself. He and Crowley sit with a bottle of scotch and go over Aziraphale's dilemma.

“Crowley,” began Aziraphale.

“What’s wrong?” asked Crowley. “What’s with the midday drink?”

“Do you think I’m—” Aziraphale looked upset.

“What, what are you?” asked Crowley concerned.

“Do you think I’m a prude?”

Words: 667, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 40 of Good Omens: And So The Plot Thickens

Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)

Additional Tags: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), coven - Freeform, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley drink

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39179844

#ao3feed ineffablehusbandz #ineffable husbands #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #anthonyjcrowl