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[laliwilde]

WELCOME TO LALILAND

Laliland is an island on half a planet in an alternate dimension. We have access to it thanks to a wormhole that opened up inside of my head. It is a magical land, full of all kinds of wonderful places to explore.

Where would you like to visit?

Empty Space

Gnorlia

Wildernests

Floating Land

Whereville

Tuli(ville/wood/Sea)

Red (Sea and City, including Luvanti, Pekafonte, Downtown, and Gristaline)

Fae Wood

Isle of the Dead

Caves

Eavo

Monarch Bay

The Sky

[laliwilde]

THE SKY

In the sky was the wormhole. & Also in the sky were the three Fat suns & thirteen little moons.  The first sun was the biggest. It  Glowed purple and rose early as The songbirds. The second two suns Rose together, blue & red &  Much smaller. The stars were in the  Sky also. All of them different  Sizes & different colors. The Three suns crisscrossed overhead with Varying brightness, promoting Themselves as the makers of mood & the givers of sight, even  When things got purple tinted As the big one came around. The Moons were everywhere. Some seen Always, & some seen so rarely  That their existence was doubted.  The moons pulled the tides in every  Direction, but they made the moods Swing clockwise. From the top of the Mountain or higher, all the currents Could be seen to build a spiral,  & the spiral lined up nice with  The tongue, so everything flowed smooth The same way, even when it felt All out of sorts. The Cloud People  Helped with that. The Cloudfolk lived in  The sky. Cloud People all know plenty, But they only tell what they know  Through what they do, & even then,  All that can really be done is  Make guesses as to their knowing.  Cloudfolk were the ones who made the  Dreams. They also made the weather.  On the island, these two were the Same. The Cloud People made the dreams Depending on the weather, &  The weather depending on the  Dreams. If the dreams were nasty, then  The weather would be too. & if The weather was wonderful, then Everyone’s dreams would be too. So, Whatever was felt everyone Would feel & whatever everyone Was feeling would be felt. Whether Through weather or not. The Cloudfolk Never came down from the sky, but They sometimes brought people to them In dreams. While dreaming, a person Would feel their body separating  From itself, & they could look at  Their body as they floated away  From it to where the Cloud People Were. Once someone was up there with The Cloudfolk, they’d be told some vague  & poignant thought in a bleak expanse Of fluff, & the Cloud People would Nod in sync and then send them back. When someone was brought to them, the  Cloudfolk would usually be  Sitting at this big long table Like a council of elders, all  On one side so they were facing The person, & the person would Usually feel real minimized  By their position in the scene. All except one Cloud Person, who  Sat on the other side of the Table with his back facing the Visitor. It was unknown as To why. What the Cloudfolk said was  Very important & timely  & it would not be understood By the visiting person for  Years or decades or never. Thanks,  Weatherman! The only creatures  Who did not seem to live on the  Planet’s island oasis were The giants. So tall were they that Their heads were far above sight &  Through the Cloud People’s realm. Their feet Could crush the whole of Gnorlia With a single stomp, & they had Before, at least partially. But To the benefit of Gnorlians & other island living folk, The Giants passed through only once Every few hundred years, or less, & sometimes passed the whole of the Island over in one generous Stride. These were the mysteries & Well-knowns of the island. Now that You know them, the stories that took Place there can finally be told.

THE FIRST STORY (Captain Earthquake)

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EAVO

Eavo. The mountain. The island’s Towering mammoth. Untouchable  & serene. On the island it  Was imagined that a pool of  Smooth and petal rested atop  Eavo, waiting for travelers to  Take a dip & soak; an act which Was said to make one immortal. But none had proved the fantasy.  Some had been near the top, where the Kaziras swarmed. Those cats crowded In a nest of bones & ferns &  Somebody’s poor luck. & below  The minacious, rocky terrain  Of the Kazira, the trees began.  This was what was left of the forest Which had stretched across most of the  Island before the humans came Crashing. Akamari. These trees Had rivers in them which asked them To reach like archers. Trees who could Feel & grasp in an instant. Who Could make an opinion & act On it & did so. The trees would Evaluate all the mountain’s  Climbers. Any who came scouting  Were sensed by the trees & judged. Those Who passed judgment were helped to reach  Their destination. Akamari Trees were good at building stairs from Their moving limbs. Easy for a Traveler to step upon. Those Who did not pass judgment were served Unfortunate fates. Usually, A tree would grab their leg, take hold & fling them as far from Eavo  As the tree could manage, which was Usually very very Far. The trees were brightly colored, Sugar-coated, & big fans of  Jazz. They could see the intent of Anyone who mingled with the  Forest, & they could not be lied  To. They glowed bright, & liked to dance.  Big wiggling bods. They all lived in Harmony, making tunes together.  This was a wonder to behold. & when one died, all of them would Mourn, & watch the dying tree make  The transition into its new  Life. When an Akamari tree  Died, it became a Vampire. A  Vampire who drank potential time  From its victims, shortening their Lifespan, or just ending it. The  Previously-tree Vampires were  Then immortal, & would spend their Days trapped in a mirage of endless Cynicism. Akamari  Trees did not die easily or Often, so thankfully the island’s Residents did not come into Contact with many Vampires.  Those who did were a cursed few. Eavo’s tongue was a clean, easy Stream that broke only the Wildernests.  It spiraled down the mountain & Reached the sea — from the mountain’s peak  To the island’s leftern shore. It  Had no swimmers or sifters or  Living within. Bridges were built Over it. & Though it was left Unsaid, it seemed that most knew to  Leave it be entirely. Thus,  It flowed along beautiful & Repelling, emanating the Scent of bloom & dead bug. Its Contents would have reached the ocean  Effortlessly if it weren’t for  Monarch Bay and its inhabitants.

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CAVES

The base of the mountain housed the Caves of the insects who, loyal,  Wrote the stories of Before in  A script only known by readers  Of the Voices. The Insects, once Essential to the island’s health, Now performed menial tasks of  Terrestrial upkeep. They were Forgotten by most. The insects Were large as milk trees. They moved slow As stone, and all their wings had been  Withered to dust in the Piercing.  Their tapered legs bore small holes into  Silken cave grounds. Their backs were as  Hard as metal. They had no secrets But none could remember how to speak.

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ISLE OF THE DEAD

The dead lived on the Isle & Were souls without form. The souls were  Many, but they were not crowded.  Instead they easily passed through One another, & thought not of Their selfness or their sameness. Dead  Of the old world & new campers Too. It was rumored that the isle  Was composed of precious minerals —  Like ash & fears & obsidian  & hard milk. The floor was fog. What  Fell always was snow, feather-like  & from no source. You did not catch It on your tongue. It made you choke.  If you wanted to talk to a  Soul, you could go there & find them.

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FAE WOOD

The woods were borne of secrecy  & coalition. The Fae had  Found their strength in isolation.  They grew smart during the Piercing. In the tangled that was the wood, The Fae found pockets to slip in The same way thieves hide their stolen. Phasing blithely from one dimension To the next, not paper light but  Heavy in their cackles. The Fae Made bells & ringing, & small lights In flickering distance: Calls to The passerby. Oh, how they fooled  & entrapped. Not for cruelty’s Sake, but for the thrill that came from

Tempting the fates & playing a Person’s will. Good marked the fae. Truly!  But scorn & temperament too.  They were still devilish. This was  Their nature. Uniqueness & hidden Passages in soul — Same as their  World. Fae were half on-island &  Half off; As ethereal as  Cloudfolk. Warmer though, & farther Away. To enter the Fairy  Qwingdom, a person had to be Palm led to the door by a fae.  Once through, the person would shrink to The size of the fae or smaller,  & become rich in the senses.  Taste sound touch like an apocalypse. Those who entered the Qwingdom would Live there for centuries & come out Only days older than they were Going in. Such as it is with  Shrinking & growing in succession.  The woods themselves, the ones not through That elusive doorway, were the  Terror of navigators. Never Wide enough to pass through, never  The same as they were moments ago. They hosted creatures a dozen,  As old & unsightly as the  Fae themselves. The woods were home to  Myths most of all. & as all know, Myths are the most terrifying Beast for a lost & wandering fool.

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RED

Red Sea was infantile. A  Tantrum of a body, thick with  The unkind & untimely. Its Water was as thick as blood, &  Smelled of the rot of centuries.  Little lived within, except a Breed of maleficent mermaids —  Human hungry & merciless.  Alluring when they wished to be;  They called ignorant sea-gazers To their deaths with songs of delight.  Lazer teeth, iridescent black tails. They were why none swam in the sea Nor played at its shores. Them or the  Tales told of swimmers who went in Red Sea & came back different.  The Red was called as such because The humans’ crashing ship had dyed The land that color. & the land  Had spilled out into the water  & dyed the water also. & The red of the land made the humans  Call it Red, & the red of the  Sea made the humans call it Red,  & so it was Red City & Sea.  The city was sectioned into  Parts. Luvanti and Pekafonte In one. Downtown in the next. & Gristaline in the third. Humans  Died in the same place they were born  & they never learned anything Other than what they were told to learn.

The place where Red City met Tuli  Was called Luvanti. It was a  Sparse & scattered villa of those  Who would pretend to be royal,  Despite having descended from Servants. These people lived in the Future. With all the latest & Most recent devices. All old  As soon as they were touched. Houses With character, & moving limbs.  Yards that would ache, crack & sizzle.  Hillsides with computer bodies.  Remote control skies that blocked the  Three circulating Suns. Luvanti  People stayed in their groaning homes,  & had no time that was not free. 

Pekafonte rested just Down,  Like a maternal hug to the  City’s ornament. It would dwell,  Humble in an aura of retreat.  Here was where humans went when they  Took the true & caregiving road.  It was also home to those whose  Minds were set & unwavering;  Who prefered good weather to a Conversation. The neighbors knew  Each other's names, but did not stay  To chat. The houses were small, & The flowers were many, & most  Were quiet & serene. Neither  Pekafonte nor Luvanti  Was watched much by the Spies.

Alternatively, Downtown had  No quiet & no privacy. Here most all the humans lived & Here they were always watched. Of course. Here was where the action happened. Downtown’s Buildings towered. The sky  Was smogful & choking. Humans  Rode in flying cars & bet paper  Of invented value on games  Of gold & nail. All of them were  Betters born from crooks. Many were  Miserable and many would Politely pretend not to be  So they would not feel the big weight Of making others miserable  By expressing their misery.

In Gristaline, the poor & moaning Wept & crawled, unwatched by the Spies.  The people there lived in the Past,  Like a raisin or a blister.  None of them had seen what the Up  Held, nor the future, because they  Had convinced themselves they could not  Go there. But the spies had seen Up  & the future & the middle  & the below as well because  They had to, for their job. They passed Through Gristaline often, since it Was on the edge of Fae Wood, where The Spies’ headquarters were hidden.  They always moved through it quickly, With their noses plugged up tightly.

Red City was ruled by Spies, though  None who lived there knew it. The Spies  Kept tabs & made things civil, &  The humans were happy, & so  All lived & died there without question Or concern— excepting a few  Who were rebellious & a Few who were lucky. Red City  Was almost all humans. The few Magical creatures who lived there  Did their best to blend in. Red City  Humans were accustomed to a  World that mimicked their old. All was  Technology & craft. Big hungry Money-ships and sparkling lights. The Humans ate & poisoned & so on. According to the citizens  Of Red City, the island’s Left Was a dangerous place. Somewhere Wrought with monsters & mysteries  & fit for none to live. Humans  Of Red City regarded all Non-humans as grotesque, abnormal,  & invalid, though few had ever  Met one. Kaziras were the one Non-human species to brew in Red City undisturbed and in Multitudes. This was only ‘cause  Kaziras love to be where they  Should not be. Humans hated the  Kaziras which delighted the  Kaziras. The few humans who  Did befriend the Kaziras would  Ride around on the Kaziras & do a lot of screaming. Those  Humans were their own breed. The Spies  Had to make a lot of deals with The Kaziras to keep them from  Flying humans over to the  Leftern side of the island, but  They managed. Kaziras loved to Cause trouble. The Spies did much to Ensure that no humans traveledTo the other side of the island.  The main way they did this was by  Making Red City so full of Stimulation that no one had  The time or thought power to think 

Of escaping their utopian Tomb. That is why Downtown had so Many flashing lights, neon signs,  High-pitched buzzing sounds, flash mobs, gun  Shops, steamrollers driving through the Streets, flying marching bands, sports teams, Automated street performers, Useless skill seminars, self-help Conventions, synthetic drugs, gang Warfare, grassroots political Movements, orgies, long lines, food banks  With no food, liberal arts colleges, Parades, public transportation, Protests, free film screenings, skate parks, Mechanical lovers for hire,  Monkey carnivals, volunteer

Work opportunities, artisan Bazaars, new-age religions, &  An endless supply of mega Phones. The citizens did not know  They were being monitored or Controlled. If anyone were to  Try & tell them, they would likely Plug ears & turn tail. According  To a Red City civilian,  Theirs was a land where everyone  Had the power to live as they Choose. To them, they were not ruled or Governed. They had representatives, & they maintained their order by  Working together. However, No one in Red City did much

To help anyone else ever.  But they all felt free enough that They could help if they wanted to, Which made them all think of themselves As very helpful. Red City  Was scoundrels and big fish, gobbling & building only to be smooshed  Flat by the next trendy battle.  The city changed fast. The people  With claim were rotating shifts, & The whole of it was hard to keep Up with. But two things did remain  Unchanging: the city’s ideals  Of freedom, & the secretive Ruling fist of the Spies. Oh, such A tragic trap of irony. 

The Spies controlled all. They chose when A trend ought to go running, &  When it was a businessman’s time To fall. They told the schools what to  Teach & the jobs what to make work  & they twisted all until the  People called the rules they followed  Rights & gods they worshiped Liberties.  If someone tried to go beyond  The bounds of Red City, the Spies Killed them & painted it like an Accident. Few knew of the Spies'  Existence, though legends squirmed the Alleys. The spies had cameras,  Floating around invisible, Or hidden in the watches & 

Phones & cars & bootstraps that the Humans carried round with them or  Were carried round in. On occasion  A human learned too much — found a  Camera, or saw a thing they  Shouldn’t have. So they were taken Out, a process which involved organ Harvesting. But if the human  Seemed especially fit, they might Have been offered a job. When a  Human became a Spy, their things  Were sold to pawn shops, their name was  Sold to fairies, & their soul was  Sold to The Isle of the Dead.  Their face and features would get blanked Out like a wall, and they were given 

A black suit and hat and plenty  Of cheese to keep them happy. Friends & family had memory  Washed. If they resisted these changes, They would join those who were tortured  Till they were filth. When people went Missing in Red City, it was  Never a surprise. Usually The Spies used the opportunity  To spin a tale about the missing  Person attempting to travel  Beyond the bounds of Red City  & getting gobbled by giants  & goblins & big mean dragons.  This did wonders for the fear that Ensured everyones’ staying put. 

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TULI

Tuliville sat Up from Whereville. & it kept on thick with bustle.  It was known that Tuliville had The goods. The village was a sweet  Collection of homesteads mostly  Occupied by elves, the sporadic  Escapee of Red City, &  Any alien or fauna  With a gem of a heart. Treasured  Gilligosters wandered town when  Suns were up, offering embraces  With arms open like unfurling  Petals, soft & warm to the touch. When moons were up, the Gilligosters Slumbered in well rounded holes, breathing Slow with twisting horns & big figures.

The town boasted roaming animals, Memorials to the gladdening  Past, & community gardens.  The elves liked to think of themselves.  They used big words & shot long arrows. They were, to themselves, great in a Conversation. To others, they  Were good with their hands & their crafts,  Their trinkets & material.  Most avoided talking to them. The wood beside the town was quiet Other than the rustling of the Soft footed & wide eyed passing  Through every so often. Peaceful,  Observant. Here the elves lived in  Treehouses with bridges stretching.

Graceful as a spider’s web. The  Creatures living here did not worry.  They knew the world could be unkind  In multitudes, but they also  Knew that sanctuaries could be  Made, & kept by those who wished for  Them & made them sweet. The water  That surrounded the Left they called  Tuli Sea. It went from Tuli  Forest’s middle, to the starting  Depths of Fae Wood, & it ended  Where the water met the fog. Within Lived sea monsters of old, expanded  In the ocean. Went from being  Vein dwellers to belly-livers.  Massive & carnivorous they were.

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WHEREVILLE

Whereville was full of werefolk, big  & small, loose & tight & scrunchy. Werefolk were born with half their selves Animal & the other half Human-like, because Whereville was  Where deviants went when Red City Got civil. Half-breeds & alien  Lovers & folks fused with foreign  Objects because of a sky-sent Mutation via piercing & hole. The werefolk howled at the many Moons & grew rabid when the cosmos  Said to. & some also buzzed &  Some barked or burped or ribbited. & the possibles of the creatures  There were as endless as the waves.

This home for the unadjusted— Aliens, mutants, hybrids, &  Criminals, outcats & werefolk— Was racketed; A smash for thorns.  Grovels & shacks & warehouses  Toppling over. Corners with sculptures  Who, interactive, snatched at the Passerby’s loose cloths & barked names  They could not have known. A place one  Went for potions, hexes, the cursed.  It also had a big sports scene.  A brutal arena where they  Made the insects go at each other, Ignorant to the insects’ smarts.  Like many, they just see dumb logs Lumbering with exoskeletons. 

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FLOATING LAND

The Floating Lands were made when the  Humans came, & as war ended,  They settled. Fat clumps, sculpted &  Molded & lifted into Air.  Hovering rocks bobbing in the  Upleftern chunk of the island’s  Disgrace. On them, the dragons built  Temples with a myriad of  Ornate caves. Spots carved with old words  & stories of the island’s birth.  In them, the dragons sat reciting  Poetry of woe and brute wit.  The Elementals sat with them  & listened. The dragons saw their  Admiration and so chose to Teach them of the island’s Voices.

The gods of the elements. Thus, The name was earned. More rebels in  Non rebellious places. The  Dragons were traditionalists. Courteous, rule-following, &  Polite. They never made squabbles,  & friendships neither. They refined  Their taste til it suffocated.  Their poetry was written on  Scrolls made from the fine pressed bark of  Akamari trees, harvested  With the diligence of a flog.  These scrolls held calligraphy of  The Voices’ script, translated into  Dragonic poems & written  With ink of dew & butterfly tears. 

Dragons always had their nails done Nicely, & they took care to speak  Mellifluous & fashionably. They held their mouths as if acorns  Sat inside them, rounding out all  The corners. Dragons perfected  Any art they set out to learn.  Give them a pen, brush, or chainsaw,  They would make it elegant. They  Loved delicate sculptures, choral  Music, & written verse most of  All. They sat in decorated  Halls & performed for one another,  & the Elementals would sit  Like children. Enchanted humans  Of loyalty and devotion. 

The Elementals had shaved heads,  Robes of like colors, & all vowed  To live in harmony with their  Reptilian brethren. Respect  Existed between the two parties,  Strange as it were. & although the  Elementals were pupils, them  & the Dragons worked as one. Like  Dragons, Elementals were each  Attached to one of the Voices  At birth, chosen however the  Polytheic draconian  Wheel may turn. The Elementals  Were taught to worship their Voice &  Learn the ways of its element So they could try for working towards 

A unification with their  Element, which no Elemental  Ever accomplished, but each believed To be possible. The dragons  & the elementals & their  Society in the air. The  Floating Lands & their grace. The scarred & dashing hills, the moss that dripped  To the island below. The dragons  & the Elementals lived by  Routine & rule. They each woke at A certain time of day, pertaining  To their element, & went through  A series of actions of worship,  Pertaining to their element, Which would be the start to their day. 

Then they would eat the food that fed  The element best, & they would  Thank their Voice for bringing it to  Them. Each would live on the Floating  Land devoted to their unique  Element, though some of The Floating Lands were split into multiple  Elements, as there were only  Nine Floating Islands, & thirteen Different Voices. The dragons  Could have made enough islands to  Match the number of Voices, but  They didn’t. Because there were nine  Islands in the Floating Lands, &  That was the way things were. & the Dragons liked things left as they were.

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WILDERNESTS

After the Gnorlian invasion,  Some Witches found themselves in the  Wildernests. But they were spread thin  & did not find each other. But  Other things were found, such as pause, Stillness, the blowing of grass, &  A rumble ever so often Of tunnels groaning underfoot.  Grass on the island was covered In holes so small that one had to  Lift a blade to the eye to see  Them. The Wildernests had grass a  Dozen. Those fields that lay between Where the Witches once were and where Whereville then was had the tongue running Through them like a blade. It was said:

Here the Voices sang loudest. Like  A jacketing cat’s caw, or the  Conscious of a sweetheart performing  A misdeed. That is why so few  Made their home here, leaving them wide  Open like Breadth. Thus the Wildernests  Were for wanderers. Some would travel  Through these parts headed Down & Right,  Looking for the fabled fountain  Upstream. Others avoided them  Completely, as they did not want  To be alone with their listening  To all the Voices’ holy song. Others simply had no time to  Travel through the consecrated Wildernests, & so they did not.

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GNORLIA

The Gnorlians stayed & made home In what was once the Witch’s Land. They built a castle of brick, stone, & clay & called it Gnorlia.

There they died & were born & died Again. The parasite was born & died with them, deep clutched to spines From infancy to elderhood. & the Gnor Parasite remained Hungry for emotion; Especially For feelings too big for a body To contain. If it ate enough Feeling, then it could grow big and Take over the host like it had Done before. For this reason, the Gnorlians learned to keep from feeling. Gnorlians suppress so the Gnor Never sings. The falsity of Function. Stiffened up in their pearls & Opulence; consumed by aesthetics. Beauty was their solace & succor.

As long as all soothed, the Gnor could Not take power. So long as they Were calm & controlled, Gnorlians Remained in human form, wings & Tentacles in hiding. But if A Gnorlian found itself lost, Angry, enamored, panicked, or Even too full of joy, the Gnor Would swallow their human-ness & They would go full blown monster. Swell Up & ooze pours & fire’s breathed & What’s lost is all ability To reason or think regular. So they had to be restrained, always. Else loose themselves to the little Creature feeding on them from within.

The children had some empathy Left in them. Not yet shut down for Safety’s sake. The Gnor’s influence Grows into them as they grow. The Grown are past gone. Dry paint. Glazed & Blank. With corsets, leather shoes, fat Wigs & white powder.

Their kingdom, walled in, encircled, Was as protected as it was Lavish. Gold encrusted ceilings. Walls made of satin, lace curtains, Indoor waterfalls, archways, Rose Gardens, long winding staircases. They had to uphold an image; A posture. Else fall victim to The parasite who ate on the Feelings greedy-like. To be grotty Inspired humiliation — A taste that the parasite loved. The kingdom had a Center, & In Center there was a Castle Where King Gnor rested on his throne & saw to the shivers of none.

Center was circled by towers Of Princesses & the families That birthed them — all bred to rule & Serve King Gnor, who was recycled Each new generation by the Previous King’s son. As it was In the world of the old Humans, As it was for these, so tied to The tradition that was their truth. Further out from Center were the Gnorlians who became peasants. Here It was often discussed how these Gnorlians became peasants while Others became Princesses, yet All were once the same: Humans from A sky ship, stranded then banished.

But the discussion would fall flat Before answers, as it tended To arouse the big uglies of Feelings. & Gnorlians preferred To remain in the safety of Numbness. For though they were more than Human, they still had humanness In them, & with humanness comes Fear & plenty of it. So no Gnorlian ever left their small Kingdom, except for the babes who Were swept up in the night by crawlers, & the occasional princess Who left to join the kid pirates. As for the adults, the world would Have made a monster out of them.

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EMPTY SPACE

Humans infected by the Gnor Became the Gnorlians, & this Is how they appeared: Like a staff. The first generation, after Exile, wandered to the Left, Their bewilderment growing. & When the parasite got a taste Of that monumental feeling, It became the first drop of fuel For the feeding brood. Sustenance For the intrusive eater of Whimsy. & so the Gnor’s hunger For feeling was born, & it was A hunger so strong it bred madness In its host. Billowing madness, Which swallowed the host body up.

The madness gave the Gnorlians Wings, breath of fire, gripping tentacles, & black ooze seeping from unkempt & odious pores. Soon they were Newborn, newly formed & flailing Into the village of Witches. Screeching bodies coming forth like A wave; a great storm Descending. The Witches knew it was coming, & knew it would take them regardless, So they fought not & let the killing Be quick. Some Witches stood until They were faceless. Others found the Ground & kissed it one final time. A small few found escape. These few Went Downwards, toward the wood of Fae.

Ah, Witches: Weavers of Illusion— A greater misery, but lesser Struggle. The Fae saw their crisis & welcomed them, & in the wood These Witches made Empty Space. A Land which was nothing other than What a person thought it to be. This made it kind to the mortals Who were kind, & cruel to those who Were cruel. Those who knew its tricks were Made holy for a time, & those Who found themselves within it by Accident, never again found Themselves. This was the trick of the Survivors: The Witches who made Sanctuary in the between.

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NEW EPISODE 💖💖💖

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New Episode!!! Link

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maybe i just need to start making tiktoks

[laliwilde]

oh shooot and i forgot to include my website