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[cursedphoenix]

V; Main - Takes place in Asheville, North Carolina, modern day, but the muses can travel accordingly.

V; Past - Takes place in the late 1600’s in Salem, Massachusetts. Tancred is the the black sheep of his family, his coven, and the village. Ever the rebel, he’d rather get up to hedonistic hijinks than cause any real harm, but he will fight for his beliefs if needed.

V; Royal - Tancred (21, male) is the king’s young nephew who became a ward of the court at a young age after the slaughter of his family. He is rambunctious and reckless with his love, but will always protect those he cares about.

V; Descendants - Available upon request. Tancred (19, male) is the son of Sarah Sanderson and Billy Butcherson. Raised on the Isle of the Lost, Tancred grew up to be a roguish and cunning youth with a silver tongue and a heart of gold. When Mal, Carlos, Evie, and Jay were all chosen for the Auradon transfer program, he held no anger or ill will toward them, but he was intensely jealous of their opportunity to escape. More than anything, he wanted to be able to make a better life for himself and his mother. Winifred had killed his father (again!) as soon as she found out that Sarah was pregnant, and would have killed both her and Tancred if not for the intervention of Mary. Leaving the Isle would mean finally escaping from his wretched Aunt Winifred and starting fresh in a new world. It would also mean that he could finally practice magic. Every spell his mother had taught him, good and bad. Every potion recipe, every charm, every ward, every hex, every hypnotic arcane song. He bides his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity.

V; Wizard - Tancred Sanderson (between 16 and 25, but I’d rather play him as an adult) is the son of renowned witch and singer Rhiannon Sanderson and an unknown but powerful American wizard. He grew up never wanting for material necessities, but craving the affection that his mother would rather direct toward her fans. Upon enrolling in Hogwarts, he was swiftly sorted into Slytherin, where he was immediately accepted…at least on a surface level. He learned early on to keep things close to the vest, use charm to get his way, and put more effort into potions and transfiguration to keep Professors Snape and McGonagall off his back. Defense Against the Dark Arts wound up being his best subject, however, until his fifth year, when Umbridge took over the class. In fact, all of his grades had begun to decline, as he’d discovered over the summer that his mother had been developing cirrhosis of the liver and denying that she was sick, concealing it with Pepper Up potions and glamours. When he’d finally confronted her about it, Rhiannon blamed him, stating that he was the reason why she always drank. Raising him while being a successful superstar had been too much of a chore. He began looking for a cure, and in sixth year, under Professor Slughorn, he finally found that he genuinely enjoyed Potions, improving rapidly enough to earn a spot in the Slug Club! He stayed out of politics for the most part, although Voldemort’s return was certainly a wake-up call for him. It didn’t quite matter, at the moment. His mother died just after his seventeenth birthday, and in the midst of this tragedy, he did manage to get into contact with his father, Aiden Fairchild (played by Ian Somerholder), and build a relationship with him. Though reeling at first, he managed to push through, growing more reckless as his seventh year approached. Unlike most of his Slytherin classmates, Tancred actually did fight valiantly in the Battle of Hogwarts, finally channeling all of his pent up rage and rebellion into scorching any Death Eaters who crossed his path. Tancred became an Auror after graduating, teaming up with his father to hunt down any lingering dark wizards.

V; Star Wars - (okay I don’t have a whole lot of ideas for this one yet…)

V; vampire - same as the main verse, but Tancred gets turned into a vampire at some point. He still has his magic, but it’s greatly weakened due to his corrupted blood. Not that he’ll admit it, of course. Besides, his new vampire abilities make up for it somewhat. He’s faster, stronger, unaging, able to walk on walls and ceilings, able to shapeshift into a bat or black cat, and can read and subtly influence the minds of others. Drinking blood is…unpleasant, unless he has permission to combine it with sex in some way. He’s also sort of beholden to his master, the vampire who turned him, which is far less than ideal. He misses his home and his coven, but doesn’t know what to tell them. All in all, he’s miserable, but putting on a brave face for the sake of his precious master. Killing him will free him from the vampiric curse, but will use up one of his nine lives.

V; Marvel - Shortly after waking up from the sleeping curse, Tancred was captured by Hydra. They experimented on him. Trained him. Broke him, or at least tried to. Injected him with the super soldier serum. Experimented on him some more. Then he met and became close with Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, the only bright lights in an otherwise dark and dreary place. They became like siblings to him, and when they broke out, he escaped with them, casting any and every spell he could to aid them. (Credit to @illbringthechaosmagic for helping me develop this one! 🥰)

[lavendairs]

♚  ━━━  ❛ ALL ABOUT AUGUST.

G E N E R A L  —

NAME.         his full birth name is august ahn-evergreene, his last names being a combination of his maternal and paternal last names because his mother wasn’t going to allow her children to not have her last name in some fashion. however, in his twenties he drops evergreene and only uses ahn as his last name due to a rift with his mother / wanting an identity separate from her ( he’s not fond of his father either but he has a habit of leaving town so it’s easier for august to distance himself from that part of his family’s ‘legacy’ ).

AGE.         he appears in his late 20s ( 27-30 ) but is around 60 years old due to the extended lifespan of a mage.

HEIGHT.          he stands at 6′1 ( 185.42 ). no, he’s not a sloucher and is the type to internally judge people who do because stand up straight wtf?

WEIGHT.          170 pounds ( 77.1kg ). he’s lean and not overly muscular; doesn’t do much heavy physical activity anymore due to his current ‘condition’.

ETHNICITY.         korean-filipino american mage. he comes from a bloodline of magic-users. if commenting on his natural magical prowess, expect a dry ‘of course, i was breed to be.’ in response.

OCCUPATION.           he is what the people of crescent creek call ‘the overseer’, the highest sitting member of the council of novema ( or just ‘the council’ for short ). they are the ones who ‘govern’ the town and its people, establishing laws and stepping in to resolve high-level matters between residents if it should come to it. with the council needing to hear matters from the magi, vampires, fae, werewolves, and other beings, august has a constant headache.

GENDER.          cis-male.

SEXUAL & ROMANTIC ORIENTATION.         he would state that he’s heterosexual but admittedly he’s never fully explored his sexuality enough for that to be a definite statement. he hasn’t seriously dated in a very long time™ and it isn’t interested in changing that.

MBTI.         INTJ-A,  The  Architect  —  it can be lonely at the top. as one of the rarest personality types – and one of the most capable – architects ( INTJs ) know this all too well. rational and quick-witted, architects may struggle to find people who can keep up with their nonstop analysis of everything around them. these personalities can be both the boldest of dreamers and the bitterest of pessimists. architects believe that, through willpower and intelligence, they can achieve even the most challenging of goals. but they may be cynical about human nature more generally, assuming that most people are lazy, unimaginative, or simply doomed to mediocrity.

S P E C I F I C S  —

FAVOURITE  FOOD.           he’s very particular about getting his three meals a day in if he can but he probably has the most fondest for food that was often served at dinner time with his family or when all his cousins spent time at his lola’s house when they visited her. dishes such as bopis, kimchi, pancit canton, tocino and rice, korean styled steak, etc. are personal favorites.

FAVOURITE  DRINK.           his day isn’t complete without having a nice, chilled glass of vintage red wine during dinner ( and maybe just drinking straight from the bottle by the end of the night ). he does enjoy drinking rosé during a nice breakfast or lunch depending on the bottle.

FAVOURITE  HOBBY.          brooding. joking aside, he does enjoy sparring matches, ‘magical’ based sparring matches. he does practice taekkyeon ( korean martial arts ) and enjoys mixing spells in by shocking opponents, blocking their spells with his own wards, etc.

FAVOURITE  SCENT.             the smell of freshly cut grass as well as the scent of pomegranates, vanilla, cinnamon, and musk. the former is bittersweet and nostalgic, reminding of his years as a teen: when he was young, oblivious, and only had to be concerned about being late to football / soccer practice. the latter reminds him of someone he would rather forget.

FAVOURITE  PERSON.        i. his twin brother, ansel ahn. his death still hurts and he’ll always partially blame himself for it - despite the fact that there would’ve been nothing he could’ve done to change it. ( this is the part where that wand.avision quote is inserted in ). the loss of his brother dramatically changes the course of his life. ii. his lola, nora evergreene. she grounds him a lot. one of the few times he’s at peace is when he visits her for brunch every third saturday of the month. iii. his ex, audrey cramer. he would never admit it out loud though - at least not anymore.

T E N   F A C T S  —

he’s well versed in magical creatures : one of the 'gifts’ of being the overseer is the ability to traverse pass the veil - a barrier / entry way that exist between ‘earth’ and the many dimensions that exist beyond it. this ability, however, is one that has fallen out of use over the past few decades. ever the abnormally, august makes use of this ability for his own personal agenda. outside of the different races that already live within crescent creek ( witches, vampires, werewolves, fairies, etc. ), there are those that prefer to live freely in their own worlds rather than live in secrecy on earth. so yes, he has met unicorns and he thinks most of them are actually assholes.

on the nature of the veil : the origin of the veil itself is a mystery. all that is known that about its existence is that many millennium ago, those from different dimensions ( or ‘worlds’ ) were able to freely pass through it without the need of assistance or a spell. as time progressed and humanity began to rise, passage through the veil became increasingly more restricted, leading to entry ways within the veil being sealed and only accessible through the leader in each world ( ex. the overseer in crescent creek ). although the town of crescent creek has always traded with other towns, cities, etc. pass the veil, many of those trades have slowed to a stop entirely as those dimensions have become inaccessible. to somewhat ease panic and concern, the council has framed the issue being due to other dimensions permanently closing themselves off from earth ( a situation that has previously happened some worlds ). in truth, the veil itself has become 'infected’ by a foreign spell that’s led to the blocking of entry ways that lead into other worlds. due to not knowing the source of the spell and its affect on the veil, the knowledge of its presence is unknown to most people in crescent creek. // note: this is more of an overall ‘lore’ fact that explains the backdrop of what’s going on in this ‘world’ to understand other facts about him. in the grand scheme of things, this wouldn’t come up when interacting with him.

he doesn’t believe in astrologists, psychics, fortune tellers, etc. : which may seem contradictory considering he’s a literal magical being but in his experience, it’s typically humans pushing pseudoscience or mages using their magic to con clueless humans. people in that line of ‘work’ are hacks to him - especially since he’s seen it first hand with his own father’s profession.

over the past twenty years, he’s been continuing his brother’s research : ansel, his older, twin brother, had been studying the distortions within the veil in secret before his death a decade prior. although the status of the veil was supposed to be concealed to those outside of the council’s reach, ansel confided in his brother before his death. in august’s eyes, whatever spell that’s taken over the veil is an active threat and with the backing of onyx crane, a vampire on the council, and his cousin, faye evergreene, he began an almost obsessive-like determination to complete his brother’s work and find answers - even if it’s to his own detriment. // *note: with a big soap opera trope being people returning from the dead, it shouldn’t be shocking to discover that ansel, is in fact, not actually dead. he used a storm that hit the town as a means to fake his own death ( disasters that kill off characters is usually a soap opera storyline that happens during ‘sweeps’ period ) and left town for his own agenda.

the youngest overseer to sit in the council : his status as the overseer is one steeped in controversy due to...a variety of reasons: an overseer typically is replaced by another council member by vote or an apprentice to the overseer should they have one after an overseer’s death, resignation, or if they’ve been forcefully discharged from the position. none of these things applied to august’s own mother, tala ahn-evergreene, when he usurped her - blackmailing the council by threatening to expose the truth about the current threat of the veil. // *note: in every ( american ) soap opera, it is a staple to have a ‘thing’, whether it be a business, a central institution in town ( ex. a hospital ), or a position ( CEO of a company, chief of staff at a hospital, etc. ) that many of the characters are tied to or even fighting for control over. ELQ, the quartermaine’s family business on general hospital, often have storylines where family members are fighting over shares of the company, who should run it, or the family teaming up to oust an outsider that’s taken over the company ( funnily enough, there is a story like the latter happening on the show right now ). the point here is that being the overseer or even sitting on the council of novema is that ‘thing’ that people fight over to be on for various reason. 

he takes his personal upkeep very seriously : there’s a lot of things one could say about crescent creek’s current overseer but no one can ever say they’ve seen august ahn not look put together when he’s out and about ( this is him going out publicly basically ). as someone who values consistency and control in his life but pretty much never has it, august actually highly treasures the time spent doing his morning / nightly skincare routines, getting his acupuncture treatments, and so on. he supports the self care movement essentially.

he ( as well as his siblings ) once witnessed one of his father’s affairs : it was an awful experience. -10/10. doesn’t recommend. this incident shapes his attitude towards relationships in general and how he operates within them. august has a very black and white attitude about relationships: you are either with him 100% or you’re not with him at all. it’s unhealthy and he has to unpack that. // *fun fact: this is actually a real event that happened with this family back in the sims 2 over ten years ago - they just all had different names, were a different race, and so on at that point.. they’ve changed a lot:tm:. 

may be an active suspect for murder : it happens. when marlena cramer, a former council member, suddenly passes on, the town is overtaken by a wave of a grief...that soon becomes shock and suspicion when her death is rules to be from unnatural causes. between being one of the last people to see her alive and reports of him wanting her off the council, august becomes one of the prime suspects for her murder case. // *note: whodunit’s are probably up there with ‘who’s the daddy’ storylines in terms of being the most common soap opera staple ( ex. who shot j.r. on dallas ).

voted most likely to be successful in his HS yearbook : august was the picture perfect prom king, the jock that was friends with everyone on campus, and the one everyone expected ride off into the sunset with his hs sweetheart. on paper, august was well rounded - some would say outright perfect. today, those who knew him in high school would shake their heads and ask themselves what happened to the boy who always smiled at them when he passed you by in the hallway or whose laughter could easily be heard the loudest in a classroom. august, as he is now, is a stranger to those that once knew him.

it’s happening gradually but he is, in fact, dying : many of the worlds that had become unaccessible were not only blocked off but were actively decaying - many of its residents fleeing to other worlds before they were forever trapped in a dying one while others locked their entry ways to stop the spell from spreading to their own homes. the overseers in crescent creek were restricted from traversing the veil themselves due to the unknown risk of the spell, a rule that august actively ignores. every time he travels through the veil, the more the spell slowly eats away at him - a fact that he is well aware of and he has no desire to stop. he will keep traveling worlds ( and helping those he can ) until he finds the source of the spell and kills its caster himself.

FIVE  THINGS  HE  LIKES.

visiting the sauna. the heat helps with his internal pain.

eating home-cooked meals.

getting hydrafacials ( james_franco_so_good.gif ).

smoking with his cousin, faye.

blasting emo music as he gets drunk, questions his life choices, and stares at the ceiling

FIVE  THINGS  HE  DISLIKES.

feeling used.

disloyal / uncommitted people

selfishness.

tough, chewy steak.

cheap wine.

COMMON  WORDS / PHRASES  THAT  ANNOY  THEM.         during a misunderstanding or argument, the worst thing to tell him is that he ‘doesn’t understand’. even if the person is somewhat correct, august is a person that prides himself on being an objective observer of a situation, rational in his thinking, and not someone who lets his emotions dictate his choices. saying something like that to him would just further annoy him.

PERSONALITY  TYPES  THEY  PREFER.        those who are smart, loyal, and efficient. those who are willing to dirty their hands on occasion, and believe that the ends do justify the means.

PERSONALITY  TYPES  THEY  AVOID.       selfish and incompetent people, those who proceed to waste his time, useless people in positions of powers, jerky unicorns.

WHAT  DO  YOU  FIND  DIFFERENT / DISTINCT  ABOUT  YOUR  PORTRAYAL?

         the whole concept of this ‘world’ is based around soap opera cliches and tropes so the character is intentionally ‘tropey’ and meant to pull from different fictional men from the genre - as well as outside of it. i would say him being the leading man is unique within itself because people of color in soaps ( at least within american soaps which this is all inspired by ) are generally never the leads or involved in what i actually watch soaps for: the drama, the love stories, the scheming, the cheating, etc. they’re usually the straight men to the white characters; living well off but boring lives and are rarely given front burner stories. all black people in a soap opera are usually always going to somehow know each other, only date each other, etc. you can switch black people out with latinos, asians, etc. and it would still be true. the characters of color are easily written off as a result of this.

        in general, soap operas are very white - and still are today. they have a history of casting white people as mexican characters, ex. lindsay hartley as theresa on passions. asian american soap characters are severly lacking - i could probably count the amount of i’ve seen on screen. a black actress formerly on general hospital mentioned how people jokingly called the show ‘generally white hospital’ behind the scenes. chad.wick bos.eman left all my children because of how much of a stereotype his character was - and he was right ( ironically, michael b. jord.an was his recast ). some shows are getting better, bold and beautiful currently has a story involving two characters cheating ( one of which is black ) and it’s hot af but it’s still not enough for the times we’re in. this isn’t a problem exclusive to soaps either - most media has a problem with this. people of color aren’t getting lead roles and especially not romantic lead roles - even if they do, the shows always make it a interracial romance with a white person ( ex. bridg/erton ) as if people of color of different races are incapable of dating each other.

         finally, i’ve noticed that you rarely see asian american men portrayed as romantic leads or desirable ( at least in a non-fetishized way ) in western media. that’s pretty lame:tm: so that was also a factor when i revamped audrey’s love interest ( parts of ‘old’ him still exist, ex. him being a jock / king of the school as a teen, a complicated relationship with his brother, etc ). anyway, stan august uwu.

tagged by:   i took it from myself. tagging:   anyone who wants to.

[venenorum-archive]

I started this off by saying ‘little fantasy verse info dump’ but I’m 80% sure it won’t be little:

io’s powerful in two ways; their magic, and the fact that they’re an archmage. head witch.

it’s sort of a mystery how old they are, whenever asked, they give wildly varied answers. they are a bit younger than main verse, though. and have been archmage for the last fifteen years.

they came out of nowhere, really. it’s given them a lot of flack, as they have no background or family to stake their claim. 

there’s plenty of rumors as to how they forged their way to power, however. it’s given them the named of court viper. far too many people who have crossed them have died, choking on poison. it’s impossible to pin the blame on iovita, however. they cover their tracks.

the biggest rumor is that they poisoned the last archmage, but considering that he was old as well, the evidence in insubstantial.

io always smiles a wicked little smile when confronted by the rumors, but never deign to speak of them. they clawed their way into this position, and they’re going to keep it because power is the ultimate freedom in their eyes.

political menace. they enjoy playing mind games, gathering rumors, spreading rumors, dangling sensitive information above the heads of the elite. 

you can’t get away with not inviting them to an event of high society. it’s better to invite them, bribe them to be as good as possible, and hope for the best, less they show up uninvited instead and start causing mayhem, disguised as it is behind a charming smile and silver tongue.

their own private home is where they’re found most of the time. it’s... mostly humble, and practically lost to a swathe of barely-tamed garden. it’s built on a hot spring, the natural thermal keeping the bath house and the conservatory warm.

the conservatory is filled with even more plants, some of them inherently magical in property, glowing softly into the night. many others are toxic, hidden among the rest of the inconspicuous plant life.

they rarely take students. it’s whoever catches their interest, and that’s always the powerful students.

they still travel a lot, whether to begrudgingly keep up with their duties as archmage, or to simply get away. 

lucrezia is still in this verse. they also keep a leggy black mare named tenebris.

it’s sort of another mystery to others as to why iovita is archmage, considering they’re an indifferent leader at best. most seem to think it’s because they like the power, others because they think io is bloodthirsty; they’re fearsome in battle, after all. others still think it’s because the old witch is having fun, bored with their years and interested in how many words it takes to start a war.

it’s honestly, all of the above.

no one can say they haven’t done good things for magic-users, though, even if it’s mostly for their own personal gain. they’ve gone head to head against laws on magic before, and would do so again.

[snakeboistan]

Hero AU: Nagisa’s Powers

Nagisa got his powers really late - like ridiculously late. The fact that he’s fourteen and still didn’t have powers or show some sign of magical ability made him get bullied/looked down a lot as a kid (he thought that maybe he could learn witchcraft or potions or something that didn’t require powers but he was terrible at learning them). The thing is that Nagisa’s powers are controlled by his bloodlust and he’d been hiding/pushing down his bloodlust all of his life (not consciously, he just wasn’t fully aware that he had it).

His mother is worse in this verse because she thinks that he’s ‘cursed’ due to his gender and treats him more like an inconvenience than a child. Because magic is a thing that exists, she believes that he was the result of a witch or wizard cursing her and blames him for the reason why his dad left. Pair this with the fact that he doesn’t have powers and, well, he feels pretty worthless so  she emotionally blackmails and gaslights and manipulates him into being her puppet/prisoner.

The only way for Nagisa to unlock his abilities is for him to unleash his bloodlust, which goes a little something like this:

The Island Arc happens where the majority of the class are poisoned/cursed and are slowly dying. They have less than 24 hours to retrieve a magical artefact that can save them or they die.

The artefact is held within ‘Okinawa Tower’ where a psychotic villain named Takaoka lives. They manage to get through the defences and enter his lair

Takaoka immediately captures them but because the containment field he used only works on people that have powers, Nagisa is able to get out.

Takaoka holds the artefact in his hands, telling Nagisa that the only way to save his friends is to beg - which Nagisa does

However, in a fit of psychotic laughter, Takaoka destroys it crushing everyone’s hope at survival

By this time, the students only have less than an hour to live and they are physically becoming weaker and weaker

Nagisa sees red, he feels his bloodlust consume him and suddenly his powers emerge

He transforms into this Gorgon creature with golden glowing eyes and half a face of blue scales, pointed fangs and an eerie smile

He instantly goes into a rage, demolishing everything and everyone that comes in his way, massacring the 20 guards that come running in.

His friends try to calm him down but the bloodlust is so strong that he attempt to harm them

Then Terasaka and Isogai find a way to calm him down and he passes out, reverting back to his normal self

Then his powers are developed

Oh and they find out that the artefact that Takaoka destroyed was a fake and the real one was somewhere else in the tower and they’re all saved. Hooray!

So Nagisa’s powers have four forms:

Human form: his normal smiley, kind, cinnamon rolly self. Wears his hair up in pigtails. He’s powerless in this form so he knows a lot about sword fighting due to having no powers for so long (he’s the second best in class after Isogai). He can speak to snakes in this form and every other form

Gorgon form: Human form but with blue snake hair. He has full control of this form but his hair automatically turn into snakes when he’s angry or scared. The snakes are like his personal bodyguards and will hiss and scare anyone causing Nagisa discomfort. His eyes flash gold (with a thin reptilian pupil) when he petrifies people (he knows how to unpetrify them, don’t worry) but they’re usually blue. He has snapped a lot of hair bands because of this form but he likes having the snakes around (mainly because they stop Karma and Rio from making girl jokes and forcing him to cross-dress)

Snake form: he turns into a snake when he gets really overwhelmed/terrified or when he needs to escape/go undercover. He likes to sleep on his friends shoulders, around their necks and soaks up as much affection as possible. Whenever he’s scared, he just curls up into a little ball and makes himself as small as possible. He can only ‘talk’ to other snakes and Kurahashi (because animal communication is her power) so Kurahashi is the one that mainly watches out for him (no Karma is not jealous that Nagisa’s snake form is wrapped around her, of course not)

Full-powered form: so Nagisa is absolutely terrified of this form because he only gets like this when his bloodlust is out of control. It’s a total Jekyll and Hyde/Dr Banner and Hulk (actually Bruce and Hulk would be a good analogy bc the Hulk is a manifestation of the anger Bruce felt when his father abused him whilst Nagisa’s form is bc of the bloodlust he got because of his mother’s abuse) where Nagisa is no longer this sweet teenager, he becomes this violent, bloodlusting monster that is practically unstoppable. His mind becomes so crazed with bloodlust that he can’t control his actions. Thankfully he only becomes like that when the bloodlust gets really really strong and he knows how to control his bloodlust so it very very rarely ever happens. Though as time goes on he manages to come to terms with this side of himself and learns how to see this form as a friend instead of an enemy. His eyes are always glowing bloodlusty golden. He becomes much more sarcastic and dark (you know how he’s like when he stood up against those D-Class bullies, yeah he’s like that all the time in this form) always smiling sinisterly as he fights. And Nagisa hates this form because that’s not how he acts, he’s not this violent creature - he hates bloodshed and gore and bringing pain to people, he wants the best for everyone and for everyone to live in peace (he finds it ironic because he’s spent his whole life wanting powers but now that he has them, there are times he wishes that he never got them)

[frizz22]

Witch’s Mark

Anon tumblr prompt: Zelda signs the book and her first time is with Faustus in the woods right after. Thanks for the prompt! Read on ao3

Notes: Faustus only a few years older than Zelda.

She considered making Faustus wait.

It’d been impossible for Zelda to be his first, being underage and having to wait to give herself to the Dark Lord first. She certainly hadn’t expected him to wait for her to come of age either. Which meant, well, she should balance the scales by taking some other witch or warlock to bed first. She wasn’t his first, so he shouldn’t be hers.

As the magic and lust swirled inside her after she signed, though, Zelda looked up and found Faustus watching her far more intensely than the situation warranted. It sent a spike a heat straight through her.

She could make him wait. She could. But Zelda didn’t want to. She wanted him. And she’d never been one to deny herself the things she wanted most. 

Which was why, after the ceremony was over and the adults filtered away, after her siblings were properly distracted by their friends, Zelda let Faustus pull her aside. And then deeper into the woods still.

Only once the sounds of everyone else faded did Faustus stop and release her hand.

Looking around her with careful neutrality, Zelda arched an unimpressed brow. “And what are we doing here?” She drawled, twirling a curl around her finger.

“I have to make sure you’re truly a witch now.” He teased, drawing a finger down the length of her spine.

Zelda suppressed a shiver and did her best to appear unaffected. “You’re not convinced? My name is in the book, same as yours. Or,” magic crackled visibly at her fingertips, “do you need another kind of demonstration?”

Humming as he circled her, Faustus’ eyes swept over her hungrily. “I need another kind of visual verification. All witches have a mark, your mouth can lie,” his thumb brushed her lower lip and was gone before she could react, “but your body can’t.” He delivered the last few words in a sultry voice that had heat pooling in her lower abdomen.

And oh, how right he was, her body betrayed her when she was around him every single time. Leaning into his light touches only to give little lurches when he backed away quickly. There was no need for teasing anymore, though, all their unspoken promises could finally be fulfilled.

Despite the fact that they were free to do as they pleased, Zelda wanted to play his game. Wanted Faustus to think he was winning up until the end when she turned the tables on him and left him stunned.

So, she turned coquettishly and swept her hair over one shoulder so he could reach her zipper. “If you insist.” She sighed, managing a mildly bored tone.

Faustus stepped up behind her with a dark chuckle and it sent thrills through her. “Oh, I do, Zelda. I really,” he fell silent, he’d lowered her zipper down to her hips and apparently gotten lost in the sight of her bare back. “I really do insist.” He finished, voice harsher than before and pride swelled inside her at how he lost control from such an innocent piece of skin.

Stepping away from him, Zelda let the dress slip to the ground. “Is this enough?” She asked coyly, not facing him or looking at him yet.

And it was as if she could feel the heat of his gaze, how it eagerly traced her newly exposed skin. “Not quite enough.” Faustus growled, his fingertips brushing along the edge of her bra, tickling the skin just above the clasp.

“Oh,” Zelda breathed, trying to sound innocent as she reached behind her and unhooked the material and let that fall away as well. “And now?” She teased, finally peeking over her shoulder at Faustus and nearly losing her carefully crafted demeanor at the lust in his eyes.

A sinful smile spread Faustus’ lips and he shook his head, hands now coming down to bracket her hips. “Almost there, dearest.” His pinky slipped underneath the elastic of her underwear and Zelda almost ended their game right there and jumped him.

But the wait only increased the pleasure. So, she hooked her thumbs through the fabric and lowered her final piece of clothing, bending only at the waist to give Faustus a good look at what he was getting.

He inhaled sharply behind her and Zelda smirked, and the other girls had told her she’d disappoint the well-versed Faustus Blackwood. It appeared they were wrong.

Flinging her underwear away, Zelda finally turned to face him. “I believe I’m ready for your inspection, Mr. Blackwood.” She intoned huskily, holding her arms out to the side slightly. Faustus’ breathing came in quicker bursts as he stared at her, and Zelda could see a slight tenting in his pants. When he didn’t move, Zelda licked her lips and cocked her head. “Faustus? I was under the impression this was an official inspection. If you’re not up to the task I can certainly go find someone who is willing.”

The comment had Faustus snapping to, and there was a dark, possessive glint in his eye that had more heat pooling in Zelda’s core. Taking several slow predatory steps towards her, Faustus’ eyes roved over her. “You could go find someone else.” He murmured, stopping only an inch from her. “But I have a feeling you’d be unsatisfied with another’s inspection.”

Huffing, Zelda rolled her eyes. “That’s hard to tell, especially since you’ve yet to start yours.”

He grinned wickedly at her. “And what makes you think I haven’t started?” Faustus purred in her ear, still not touching her. “A visual inspection is first.” Pulling back, Faustus slowly circled her, occasionally instructing Zelda to lift an arm, turn this way, or that. And how was she so worked up when he hadn’t even touched her yet? How was it his gaze and voice were enough to arouse her so?

Not entirely unaware of her reaction, Faustus stopped in front of her and smirked. “Hmm, no mark. Must not be a witch.”

Zelda shrugged slightly. “If that’s what you call a thorough inspection...” She tsked and shook her head. “I feel sorry for anyone facing trial where they must prove themselves.” And how he didn’t see the pounding of her heart through her chest, Zelda wasn’t sure. But she was sure if one thing, she was playing the game right. Faustus shifted slightly, his hand going to his pants to adjust though his eyes never left her. He was enjoying this foreplay as much as she was.

“Good thing I have failsafes in place.” And before Zelda could make some quip back, his hands were tracing over her skin, following the same path his eyes had taken. And just when Zelda thought she might crack and beg for more; Faustus replaced his hands with his mouth and repeated the entire process. And if his mouth lingered on her inner thighs, her breasts, her neck and had her panting... well, could she really be blamed after so much build up?

He finished his search by sealing his mouth over hers, his hands gripping her hips hard and pressing her against his now very evident need. As he explored her mouth with his tongue, Zelda allowed herself to touch him for the first time. Her hands skating up his chest, around his neck and into his hair, scraping and tugging lightly as their mouths moved.

A growl of pleasure and approval sounded in the back of Faustus throat and Zelda pushed against him harder, wanting more.

A moment later, though, Faustus broke the kiss, trailing his mouth down her neck and then back up to her ear. “I think I found your mark.” He murmured, hand ghosting along her ribs, back down to her hip and then further down still.

“Did you now?” And her voice was pitched higher than she’d like, a little too breathless, but he’d finally sunk a finger into her aching core, and it’d been all she could do not to moan. She refused to give his ego the boost.

As if he knew she was holding back, Faustus added another finger and planted lazy kisses along her chest and neck, his tempo matching that of his fingers, and it wasn’t nearly enough.

While Zelda enjoyed being played with, it’d been all she was allowed before her baptism, they were past that now. She didn’t want a gentle Faustus, had pleasured herself enough nights at the thought of rough and fast sex with the warlock that this wasn’t anywhere near what she wanted.

When she tilted her hips to encourage him to increase his pace, Faustus gave her a feral grin and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking, nibbling and licking in the most delicious manner as he finally picked up the speed of his hand.

Back arching, Zelda moaned out his name, grasping at him, nails digging in before dragging along the back of his shirt. Faustus groaned in response, switching his mouth to her other breast, his thumb coming up to work her clit at the same time.

“Finally,” Zelda gasped, biting her lip hard.

A chuckle rumbled against her chest and Faustus released her nipple with a wet pop. “Is this what you’ve wanted, Zelda?” His eyes were nearly black with lust and she panted from his efforts and the sight of him getting worked up over her.

Always impertinent, though, Zelda huffed. “I expected a bit more... passion.” She settled on the word, arching a brow at the warlock whose hand was still pumping inside her.

Eyebrows flying up, Faustus grinned at her hungrily. “That so?” Trying to hum in a nonchalant manner, Zelda managed a one shouldered shrug. “I can manage that.” He stole a bruising kiss from her lips before suddenly he was on his knees, his mouth aligned with her core. Before Zelda could even shudder at the sight of him between her legs, he circled his tongue teasingly around her clit before sucking it hard into his mouth as he added a third finger inside her and started to thrust faster, harder.

A litany of curses flew from Zelda as pleasure built in her rapidly and she had to cling to his shoulders to remain upright.

This, this was what she’d imagined... and then some. She came with the Dark Lord and Faustus’ name falling from her lips and Faustus continued to work her until she practically went limp. Chest heaving, Faustus guided Zelda gently to the ground.

Pulling away, Faustus licked his fingers clean and then kissed his way back up her body before slipping his tongue into her mouth so she could taste herself.

An obscene sound emanated from the back of her throat and Zelda dove her tongue into his mouth, taking control of the kiss so she could explore and find every trace of herself that remained.

Faustus’ hard length pressing against her thigh had Zelda breaking the kiss and sliding a hand down to stroke him through his pants.

Grunting, Faustus pressed his face into her neck and muttered curses as she continued to work. A smirk tugged her lips and Zelda snapped the fingers on her free hand and suddenly Faustus was as naked as she was. Taking advantage of his surprise at his loss of clothes, Zelda rolled them and straddled him, still pumping her hand along his length.

“Is this what you’ve wanted, Faustus?” She asked, repeating his question from earlier with a light mocking tone. His hands clamped onto her hips, nails biting into the flesh there, and he nodded; too lost to play games anymore. Smiling wickedly, Zelda shifted so she was aligned with him and slid her entrance along his cock, teasing him and coating him in her juices at the same time.

“Satan, Zelda.” He groaned, bucking his hips to try and hurry her along.

And seeing the oh so proper Faustus Blackwood come undone by her was the most glorious thing Zelda had ever witnessed. But she didn’t want to wait, while teasing him was incredible, she knew she’d have plenty of time for that later. Now, now she just wanted him inside her.

With a final teasing swipe, Zelda sank onto him, sheathing his cock to the hilt. She was still sensitive enough that she almost came from that alone, but she ground her teeth and held back; she wanted them to come together and from how Faustus was praising her and her tight, wet cunt, she wouldn’t have to hold out long.

She waited a moment, letting the sensation sink in, there hadn’t been any of the pain the older girls had tried to scare her with; slight discomfort, but that had been quickly overwhelmed but much more pleasurable feelings.

Leaning forward to rest her hands on Faustus’ chest, Zelda started to move, slowly at first, getting the hang of the movement and then faster as she stopped thinking and let her body take over.

Faustus allowed her to ride him for roughly a minute, his eyes simply watching her as she rose and fell over him again and again, and then he snaked an arm around her waist and sat up, clutching her tightly to him while she kept moving.

He kissed her hard, the hand not wrapped around her snuck between them and pinched her clit, rolling it between his fingers and Zelda’s back arched against him. Her head fell back as she tightened around him, grinding tight circles as she rode out another orgasm. Faustus flipped them before she’d finished and started to pound into her with abandon, Zelda moaned again, her climax lengthening at his efforts and he came inside her. Hips snapping forward a few more times as he slowed before he collapsed half on top of her. She wrapped her arms around him, keeping him in place as she ran her hands through his hair and up and down his back, a smile on her face as she caught her breath.

She’d been warned partnering with others could be a bit disappointing, no one being able to know your body as well as you... but Faustus, he had a road map to her. And Zelda found she wanted to show him all the backroads too.

After some time, Faustus pulled out of her and rolled onto his side.

Assuming they were done, Zelda shifted to get up and clean herself off before disappearing. His hand catching her arm and tugging her into him had Zelda smothering a smile as she curled into his side and rested her head on his chest. The older girls had told her he’d want nothing to do with her after, that Faustus wanted her cherry and nothing more, Zelda hadn’t cared one way or another she was getting what she wanted regardless; but it was another victory over them, this intimacy and cuddling after sex. Faustus’ voice recaptured her attention and drew Zelda out of her internal gloating.

“Satan, Zelda, if I didn’t know for a fact you were a virgin before tonight,” he sighed contentedly. “You’re incredible.” He murmured, languidly trailing his fingers up and down her bare back.

Unsure how to respond without sounding like a cock-struck amateur, Zelda hummed and kissed up his neck, along his jaw and then captured his mouth in a slow, but intense kiss. Breaking, they smiled at one another and settled back down, her head on his shoulder.

“So, where was it?” She asked, tipping her chin so she could look at Faustus without lifting her head.

Brow furrowing, Faustus frowned. “Where was what?”

A smile tugged her mouth and Zelda laughed. “My witch’s mark,” she reminded him of the thin excuse he’d supplied for undressing her.

Faustus laughed too and held her more tightly against him. “Well, you see, I seem to have forgotten.” He stated, eyes glittering. “I’ll just have to search again. Though, I seem to recall it was somewhere down here.” He pulled her so she was laying mostly on top of him and kissed her soundly, a hand roaming lower and lower until it brushed against her lower lips. It didn’t go further though, giving her some time to recover, his hand drifted back up to hold her closer.

Shaking her head, Zelda smiled into the kiss as she adjusted her position slightly so she could explore his skin as well. She wasn’t the only one with a witch’s mark in need of finding.

[3starsquinn]

Happy Accidents || Morgan & Orion

Morgan tracks a book down to the abandoned Scribe headquarters, where she runs into a familiar face in the form of her student, Rio.

Another day, another ancient text or Scribe journal that needed front to back translation. Orion had accepted that he could get through about one a day, maybe two if the text was small enough and he was willing to stay up late enough. Another day down, another book down. Only about a couple thousand or six left to go. But he would take it one day at a time. He took breaks sometimes. He would hang out at the Scribe headquarters to do his homework, sometimes he would just read the texts for fun. He had even begun to sort the books amongst the shelves. Whoever had kept track of the books before had done an incredible job, but the labelling and order had gotten lost among the last forty or so years. So Rio had taken it upon himself to get things reorganized. Today, Orion made his way against the grass and towards the hidden Scribe headquarters. His bookbag was weighed down by a grocery book full of snack food and he carried a twelve pack of soda in his hand. He dipped between the trees and came across the impasse where the barrier stood. He found the tree that his uncle had shown him so many years ago and muttered the small incantation that he had memorized minutes after learning it. Something he could never forget. Suddenly, the Scribe Headquarters stood before him, and he slipped onto the courtyard to head towards the entrance.

Morgan was fine. More time to herself in the evenings meant more chances to spread her net wide in search of magic! Hopefully, soon, it would also mean more sleep, but Morgan’s body wasn’t ready to accept only having pillows to drape her arms over or the inferior quality of her bed. So here she was, following the world’s buggiest tracking spell for a missing scribe journal from around one of the curse years. Morgan could have sworn she had done everything right, and find my lost whatever was pretty easy as far as spells went. Granted, looking for something she’d never seen was a lot harder, but---the middle of the woods? Really? Morgan checked the amulet in her palm again and stepped out of her car. Getting warmer. Morgan was about to turn on her flashlight when she saw a familiar backpack bouncing through the overgrowth. Orion? Morgan followed a few paces behind him. The amulet, meanwhile, began to heat up in her palm. Warmer-- 

Se touched his hand to a tree and-- Shit. 

So much for no such thing as Hogwarts. The building was massive, the kind of library you imagine in fairy tales. Even the decay of skeleton ivy and stones burst by roots was beautiful in its own way. And--it was going to close if Morgan didn’t hustle. “Rio!” Morgan sprinted after him. “Rio!”

Orion was still reeling from Arthur showing up at the Scribe headquarters earlier in the week. In the past two months, Rio had spent a lot of time at the abandoned building in the woods. But he had never met another soul that had found the place until the local History Professor had come waltzing into the building as if magical barriers hadn’t existed. Rio had thought it was just a one off, but that was before a loud voice began screaming his name across the forest as Rio tried to hurry into the building. For a split moment of pure terror, Rio was convinced that it was Athena. She had followed him into the woods and discovered his secret and soon she would run back to home and tell the truth to their parents. But that voice wasn’t Athena’s, though it was familiar. Rio froze in his tracks and stayed completely still for a long second, finally building up the courage to slowly turn around to face the woman’s voice. “Uh- Professor Beck?” Rio asked incredulously. Of all of his theories, he hadn’t considered her. “Um… what are you doing here?” 

Morgan hadn’t been thinking of ‘next’ when she’d called after Rio. She’d been thinking of getting into the magic library where, apparently, her very functioning tracking spell wanted her to go. After she skidded to a stop, however, it became clear that she should have considered something. What did it look like she was doing, exactly, at sundown like this? “Hi! Oh, just--you know!” No, no. Rio had made a library appear by taking down some kind of ward. He should be answering questions and she should be composing herself like a half functioning adult. She held up her tracking amulet, which was starting to turn her hand pink with its light. “Maybe not so different from what you’re doing in the middle of the woods on a weeknight in a magic library. That is what we’re looking at, right? That you just down the barrier around? It’s a pretty neat one, from the looks of it.”

“It-It’s not a magic library.” Orion mumbled, clearly embarrassed. He didn’t do well in most social situations anyways, but being cornered in one of the few places he actually felt safe only made him more timid. The only thing saving him from a full on panic attack was the person that stood in front of him. Professor Beck was easy to talk to and had always been a nice person. Clearly, the two didn’t know much about each other considering their current predicament. “It’s an abandoned building.. with a magic barrier that surrounds it.” He supposed the cat was out of the bag on this, there wasn’t much of a chance of convincing she had imagined that the building had appeared out of nowhere. “There is a library inside of it though. Among other things.” His eyes homed in on the trinket that Morgan held in her hand and started walking towards her to get a better look. “Woah.” Orion whistled, “That thing is.. So are you like… an actual witch?” Orion knew that they existed, had seen some of their spells at work. But he had never actually had a conversation with one.

“Magically protected library, fine,” Morgan said. The point was, Rio was something. You didn’t just accidentally know magical passwords. But who was he? What was his deal? “Okay, one thing at a time.” She held away the tracking amulet, since he seemed to want it so much. Better to get everything out in the open first. It would really be just her luck to have a witch hunter in her classroom as one of her favorite students. “I can’t make any magically binding promises, but you know I keep important information confidential from class, right? So I hope you believe me when I say I won’t go around sharing your identity with other people. So, cards on the table: what are you doing here? Is there an axe in that bag, or a grimoire, or--?”

Professor Beck held the amulet out towards Orion and he gingerly took it from her, noticing the heat from it and trying to examine it from all sides. “What is this?” Orion asked curiously. It was obviously enchanted in some way, but Orion wasn’t sure what the purpose was. Professor Beck was obviously going somewhere with the questioning. Maybe she thought that he was a witch himself, or something different. He couldn’t blame her, he supposed. But then she mentioned something about an axe being in his bag and he couldn’t help himself but begin laughing. “An- an axe?” He kept laughing, the idea of Orion carrying around something that dangerous being uncontrollably humorous to him. “No, no. I promise I’m not like some creepy murderer or something.” He handed the amulet back over to Morgan and slid the backpack off his back. He unzipped it and pulled out the grocery bags from it, exposing the various amount of snack foods that he had planned on storing inside the Scribe’s outdated kitchen area. “I- I come here to hang out and study sometimes. But I’m not a serial killer. And I’m not a witch or anything either.” The code to get into the Scribe Headquarters had probably looked like magic to those unfamiliar with the Scribes. Technically it was magic. Just the kind that anybody could do. “Have you ever heard of the Scribes?”

Morgan went soft with relief and took the amulet back. “The word I was avoiding was hunter,” she said. “But that’s good to know. This little do-hikey is a tracking spell. I hit a dead end at The Archive and thought I would be more proactive about the missing link.” A scribe journal. Maybe Rio could help? Something about the earnest, overworked boy being a secret scribe made a lot of sense. “I’ve heard of them, yeah,” she admitted. “Come on, we can walk and talk--” She was conscious of her not showing off her own card yet, but no one hunted scribes. Sometimes, from her reading, it seemed that people would yell at them a lot and take out some frustration on them. But not murders. There weren’t any inkwells or notebooks dangling from someone’s trophy case. Or maybe that was just a lie of convenience. Maybe Morgan was just tired of keeping count of what doors to herself she’d opened and how many were due to summon in something awful. Morgan checked to see that Rio was still with her before going on. “You don’t need to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with, but I’m admittedly curious: are you okay? Is there a reason scribe-ing is your...do kids still call it a ‘side hustle’?”

Orion was content walking along with Professor Beck until he heard her say the word. Hunter. How had she read him so easily? How could she have possibly known about him being a hunter. But he wasn’t a hunter. Maybe by blood, but not by practice. It was enough to throw him off. He could feel his face heating up and his cheeks blushing. His forehead broke out in a sweat that he wiped his shirt across. “Yeah uh – no hunting for me. Animal or otherwise.” He finally spoke again, hoping to drop the subject altogether. “A tracking spell? That’s cool. And it can help you find whatever you want?” He could admit that he wasn’t well versed when it came to magic. He had heard that Hunter’s had employed Witches from time to time to help with protection spells or tracking spells. “Uh” How did Orion answer a question like Are you okay? Clearly, the answer was no for a plethora of reasons but none that Orion was comfortable answering or Professor Beck truly wanted to know. “My Uncle used to be a Scribe. A long time ago.” He decided to go with the truth, even if it was the watered-down version. “He’s the one that showed me how to get into the building. And he’s the reason why I’m trying to keep it going. I mean the Scribes are practically extinct at this point.. but I’m trying to do what I can.” None of that was a lie, as long as she didn’t care that he never answered her question. “Do you.. want to see what the inside looks like?”

Morgan listened thoughtfully. Rio hadn’t said he was okay, he hadn’t even bothered with saying he was fine. That was saying a lot, but Morgan couldn’t bring herself to push. The kid had groceries shoved into his backpack and this was his idea of a good time. Morgan remembered wanting to escape the dingier apartments they’d lived in. Most of those escapes had been to other, nicer houses. But sometimes it was the public library, or a coffee shop where self-assured looking students and yuppies worked away. She wouldn’t have been able to put her finger on the exact source of her pain then, as things stood, she wasn’t certain there was much good in nudging Rio to do any different. “Your family must be really proud of how well you’re doing then,” she said gently. “And I would love to see inside! My little tracker tells me it’s in there somewhere anyways. It might be scribe related. It’s not an insult to the scribe gods for me to take it home once I find it, is it?” she asked.

Against his better judgement, Orion actually laughed when Morgan claimed that his family must be proud of him. It was mostly instinct, something that he never planned on doing in front of others. For his own safety and the safety of others, Orion needed to keep people thinking that their family was put together. Orion knew how dangerous they were and was a little afraid to find out just how much more dangerous they would get if put in a tight spot. “My sister’s the one they should be proud of. Popular, athletic, Pre-med student. She’s the whole package.” Orion wasn’t lying, but he hoped that he had framed it in a way that had made it sound less parents are psychotic creeps and more I’m the failure child. “I mean, Athena has always been an overachiever.” Orion welcomed the chance to head towards the Scribe headquarters, hoping that the inside would help move the subject off of himself. He never quite knew what to say. “Uh no Scribe gods but just one kid that would really like the text back when you’re done with it.” He laughed nervously, scratching at the back of his neck, “What is it that you are looking for anyways?”

Morgan watched Rio sidelong as he spoke. She didn’t give as much thought to her students as she did when she was first starting out. It was almost awful sometimes, seeing them stress over the prelims, and the club drama, the relationship drama. And what was the point in reaching out when she could barely manage herself, or when they were out the door in four months? But her other students didn’t carry magic in their pockets, and they weren’t so caught between being eager and being invisible as Rio either. It hurt to recognize, like looking at an ugly high school picture. “You’re a person, Rio, you’re not a package,” she said gently. “And people should be proud of you.” But, that was not what they were here for. It would be easier, better, even safer for both of them to leave it at that. Morgan couldn’t hit an undo button on the ties she’d made thus far, but she could take greater care not to pick up many more if she could help it. She cleared her throat, happily taking the change of subject. “A journal. There’s a specific time frame I’m looking for, around 1885. I have a hunch there was something big that happened in town then. Something that was hopefully worth writing about. And what are you studying tonight?”

Without knowing much to say, Orion just shrugged his shoulders and muttered, “Uh thanks. I appreciate it.” He never really handled praise well. It wasn’t that he never received it. He knew how smart he had been in school. Teachers and staff were constantly singing his praise, trying to get him to open up. But it was more that he had a hard time believing anybody when they spoke them. Everything seemed to have an underlying meaning to it. Orion was quick thinking but lacked the discipline and courage to do his birthright. Orion was incredibly intelligent but isn’t good at making friends. Orion was a good kid but they couldn’t help but think he was a little too reserved for his own good. Orion was always waiting for the but. A compliment rarely came without it. “There’s a whole section on White Crest specific events.” Orion began, remembering the corner of the library that he had labelled. “It’s uh… extensive.” He pushed open the main doors into the building. A large opening stood in front of them and Orion began leading the two into it and down a hallway. “I- uh don’t study anything specific per say.” It was hard to explain what he was doing, mostly because he was embarrassed to admit it. Once he said it aloud he was setting himself up for failure. “But I like to read up on whatever peaks my interest once I get inside.” He talked as he lead them through the building. They made their way down a long hallway with winding turns. They passed by the door that lead into the sleeping area for the Scribes that Orion had hoarded his stuff into. Finally, at the end of the hallway was the door that lead into the library. “So, the place is pretty old. But uh- still impressive.” He smiled shyly and pushed the door open so his Professor could see the library. 

If the dust and the mildew hadn’t risen up to sting her senses, Morgan might have thought it was some kind of illusion. The books--admittedly ratty, aging books--filled more space than her eyes could take in at once. The wood on the shelves (real wood) bowed from the weight of cradling them all for so long. And there were shelves beyond them, cozy with dark. Morgan couldn’t stop herself from gaping openly. “This place is amazing,” she said. The amulet in her hand seemed to think so too, it was starting to burn. “Wanna see how well this thing works?” She asked, just before scurrying off in the direction that was hottest. “What happened to everything here, by the way?”

Orion felt an odd sense of pride when Morgan complimented the library. Though he had nothing to do with the structure when it was build or while it was active, Orion felt a sort of obligation or responsibility for the place now. As far as he could tell, he had been the first one in the building in what must have been a long, long time. For better or worse, Orion had taken over ownership of the place. For the time being at least. “Uh, yeah. It’s pretty cool.” He laughed nervously, following behind Morgan as she began down the aisles. “The Scribes haven’t been active since the 80’s. I guess… this place has mostly been abandoned since then. I just started coming a few months ago.” He decided against detailing the entire history. They were on a mission after all. “So what important historical event from White Crest’s history are you searching for?” He asked, curious. “I- uh know a decent bit about the town’s history.” He coughed nervously, trying to not sound cocky or arrogant. 

“I guess the 80’s were a bad time for everyone,” Morgan said darkly. “But what was it? An attack? Some magic self-destruction? Someone has to still be alive who remembers, right?” She continued to walk, moving faster and turning down shelves and back again as the amulet cooled in her hand (nope, colder). At last, the amulet burned hot enough that Morgan dropped it on the ground to save her skin and she began pulling out different volumes and flipping through the margins for dates. “Oh, and uh, that’s the thing, you know? I’m not sure. But probably something--weird? A big fire, maybe. Or some improbable death, I don’t know how many weird ways there were for people to die back then. Or maybe some freak, isolated natural disaster, like a flood where only one house gets destroyed, or a tornado that only kills one person,” Her voice took a bitter turn as she spoke. It might have been funny if it hadn’t happened to her life. “I’m just positive there was something,” she added more gently, flashing Rio a smile. There had to be, or why else would Agnes have packed up and moved to Texas, as far away from the world she knew as she could probably afford? 

“It had good music at least” Orion shrugged, not wanting to make light of whatever Morgan had meant when she said that the 80’s were a bad time for everyone. “It was more.. gradual than that I think.” Orion followed Morgan down the aisles as he thought on the downfall of the Scribes. His uncle had told him about it on multiple occasions. Sometimes while he mourned the career path he so desperately wanted but would never be able to explore. Sometimes while he was drunk, theorizing how it could have been fixed. Regardless, the roots had always stayed the same. “I think they became too big for their own good.” He began explaining, halting to a stop when Morgan froze in her tracks and spun to move back down the aisle they had come from. Clearly her magic tracking amulet was doing something to tell her which direction to move in. “The Scribes had a pretty strict set of rules. The large it got the harder it must have been to enforce. Eventually headquarters stopped staying in touch with each other. A couple even ended up getting burnt down. Now… well this is what remained.” Morgan stopped and was now searching through the shelves for something. For not knowing what she was looking for, she sure seemed to be looking for something specific. “Most deaths were caused by disease back in the 1800’s. Tuberculosis and Dysentery because the most common.” He wasn’t sure how he could help, but he grabbed a text from the shelf and began flipping through it, looking for anything around the 1880’s or 1890’s. “I uh.. don’t want to ruin the mood, but weird freak accidents and natural disasters are uh pretty common in this town. There’s a reason why they used to call it Wicked’s Rest.”

Morgan shrugged. “So was AIDS, until it wasn’t,” she said. “But that’s sad, too, about the Scribes. But policing knowledge is always a slippery slope. Every situation is different, what helps one person today hurts another one tomorrow. You can’t make choices for people you don’t know.” She was thinking more out loud now than anything else, too caught up in finding the right volume. The amulet was too hot to touch now, but she seemed to be getting on the right track reaching upwards. She paused and looked at Rio, smiling at him sheepishly, “Sorry, um--you don’t suppose you could reach up and grab me that one up there, do you?” Even cursed and half miserable, Morgan’s size never failed to show up and make things harder. “And I’ve noticed, but I have particular people in mind. It’s research for this new literary-historical project I’m starting.” That was a thing real scholars did, right?

“It was… hard to explain.” Orion thought on the teachings that his uncle at taught him. He wanted to phrase them correctly, to come from someone who knew the Scribes when they were still active. “The thing about scribes was that they didn’t make choices. Their whole philosophy was to observe and record. They never got involved, never made any decisions to our against anything. They were supposed to remain completely unbiased, stay out of things, and document history.”  The Scribe’s principles sounded good on paper but couldn’t be translated into reality. It was impossible to ask someone to be completely unbiased about something. “Uh yeah sure” Rio stretched up and grabbed onto the text, handing it over to Professor Beck. “That sounds fun!” Orion was always looking for excuses to get out of the house, and a literary historical project, however vague that sounded, seemed right up his alley. “Not sure if there’s anything I can do to help out, but I’d love to get involved. What particular people?”

Oh, dear. Morgan should have seen this coming. She had, sort of, in a too-distant-to-worry way, but now Rio’s awkwardness and eagerness was looking her in the face and Earth and Stars she was not about to get a student mixed up in her mess. How was that going to go anyways? Yeah, sure, automatic A if you get maimed or traumatized in the process of this independent credit! But how much could she really lie about? She needed this information. The more curse activity she could chart, the better chance she might have of learning where it started, maybe even without the need for exorcists or haunted houses. And that was a very tempting prospect. “Oh, it’s not that interesting,” Morgan scoffed. “You know the Bachman house, on the Bend? That family. They just have a sordid history that--” How was she going to connect this with something? Was there even a subject they’d covered in class so far that Rio hadn’t been excited about? “--that might coincide with some narratological developments in the region. Other places in the region. And other people’s lives.” Definitely not hers, nope. “Anyway, I think this is actually my magic book, figuratively speaking, so I should probably--leave you to it.”

Orion followed along with the professor’s explanation. The last thing he wanted to do was insert himself into a study that Professor Beck was beginning without invitation. Maybe she planned on working on this by herself or maybe she had already chosen some students to work with. As long as one of those students wasn’t Athena, Orion would be fine. The last thing he needed was another thing for Athena to dangle over his head and taunt him with. She already had enough ammo against him. “Well that sounds super interesting! If you ever need any help, I’d be happy to lend a hand.” It was strange, Orion had been mortified when he first saw Professor Beck outside of the Scribe headquarters, and now he was almost sad to see her leave. Though he hadn’t realized it, Orion enjoyed having someone to share the space with. Especially someone that enjoyed learning like he did. It made the massive place seem marginally less lonely. “Oh yeah, of course. Well I’m glad you found something. I hope it’s what you’re looking for.”

Morgan edged back the way she’d come, dispelling her amulet and packing it into her bag, but her nerves felt twisted with guilt. This was an awfully strange place to be alone. It was a magical place in every sense of the word, but it was a lot of space for just one boy alone. It would have taken her a lot longer to find this place without him. He was owed something. She stopped, sighing, “Rio--” What did she even have to offer this kid? “I don’t know how much this place means to you or what’s going on, but if you wanted to come by my office to look over one of these old tomes together, or to talk about something your other instructors might not understand, you can, okay? And uh, I know I never said what I am, but I’m assuming it’s obvious at this point.” She gently floated one of the books near his head for emphasis.

The pity eyes. Orion did not hate them, didn’t even really mind them at this point. To him, they were just an ever-present gaze fixed on him. Surprising, that nobody knew the truth about his family and yet they still pitied the pathetic kid. It didn’t take much to realize who the black sheep of the family was. Orion was just the awkward twin brother, forever living in his sister’s shadow and making the adults around him feel bad for him. Professor Beck was trying, and Orion appreciated that. This place meant more to him than anybody could know. It functioned more than just a big library or connection to his Uncle. It had become a haven. “That would be great. It would be nice to get some other perspective.” Orion smiled, flinching back when he noticed the book floating around his head. “Woah.” He said, recovering quickly and smiling brightly. He reached his hand out gingerly, wrapping his fingers around the spine of the floating book and pulling it ever so gently closer to him. “That’s- incredible.” The magic amulet had been the first example, but the floating book helped solidify the theory. Professor Beck was a witch. “It would be really nice to have someone to talk to about this stuff.”

Morgan gave Rio a warm smile. “I’m trusting you a lot with that demonstration, okay? It means you have to stay the kind of guy who wouldn’t nark on someone just for being a witch, and help his teacher without asking any questions. And, hey, maybe by the time you come by, I’ll have some kind of amazing update on this research front! So now you have to, just to find out, right?”

Orion had to admit that he was pretty honored to learn about Professor Beck’s secret. “Your secret is safe with me. Trust me, I’m great with secrets.” A little too good apparently. His life had devolved into a spiral of too many secrets that he had no way of digging himself out of or escaping. Eventually, his own secrets would be too much for himself and he’d end up drowning in them. But he could keep somebody else’s secret. “Uh- let me know if you need anything else. Like I said, I’m happy to help.” He smiled, a genuine one. “I can walk you back out. The hallways can get a little confusing.”

@mor-beck-more-problems

[darkpoisonouslove]

I’m scared about what you’re gonna come up with these, but still, I can’t resist 😜 So 6, 17, 48 please

I’d say don’t be scared but you’re probably right to be. XD There is angst as usual but happy endings, too, so it’s not so bad, I guess.

Number 6 is at the bottom because it became the longest and I want to use a cut.

This may or may not be part of the Fake Dating AU verse. But if it is, it would fit somewhere after chapter 14. (Just for future reference.)

17 – audience

The sound of the piano drew her out of her shelter among the books just like he’d hoped it would. She’d retreated to the section of the living room that was turned into a library to find some peace and quiet after their loud fight. It was ironic, really, how much he’d said because he didn’t want to talk. But it was so hard to express his emotions in words when all his life he’d been taught not to feel so he’d switched to notes.

He knew she could read them but it didn’t scare him like it did when it was his mothers listening to him play. She wasn’t going to reprimand him if she didn’t hear what she wanted to. She just wanted him to talk to her and that made her the only audience he’d ever wished for. Because she would do her best to understand and accept his feelings and guide him through them.

So he let the piano wail and scream when he couldn’t, poured out all the pain he’d been in even before their fight–and that had only made things worse–and had the music apologize to her for the hurt he’d caused her. And it seemed to work, for her expression softened as she listened and a tear fell from her eye now even if it had been glistening there way back during their argument.

It prompted him to leave the keys alone and pull her close, drawing her into a hug, his fingers moving over her cheek now to wipe away the tear-stain. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered, the words quiet with fear but not for himself. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to fix what he’d broken.

“And I didn’t mean to push you so hard,” she said, her voice trembling like it never did, hurting him with her pain. “I just wanted you to tell me what’s wrong, let me in and allow me to help you,” she said, her voice breaking as she clutched weakly at the collar of his shirt.

“And I should’ve let you but I’m not used to… someone caring about me,” he was quick to say before she could keep blaming herself. It wasn’t her fault he’d been raised to run from genuine contact and made to fear getting close to people. “I promise I will do better,” he stroked her cheek, letting the words seep into her skin and help her calm down.

“And I promise to be more patient,” she said as she gifted him with a timid smile that had him leaning in to capture her lips. They were irresistible to him as they always voiced the sweetest of things and he wished to never stop hearing them. They were music to his ears and he was her willing audience.

We had a mild storm the other night and this was born.

48 – lucky

The thunder rumbled outside and it was only the warmth of Griffin’s body pressed against him that helped him keep his heartbeat steady. He tried to focus on her quiet breaths–they sounded like safety–and not on Tharma’s cackling that he could hear in his mind. Or the shiver that ran down his spine at the sound of the–undoubtedly cold–rain that was pouring outside.

“This is so soothing,” Griffin spoke and he could hear the content in her voice even if he couldn’t see it on her face thanks to the way her head was laid down on his chest.

“What, the storm?” he asked incredulously, the words slipping from his mouth before he could quite get his shock under control.

“Yes,” Griffin said, her voice firm and carrying hints of excitement. “It’s perfect for falling asleep to the soft sound of the falling raindrops.” All he could hear was the aggressive downpour and the violent wind. That was of course when there weren’t deafening thunders that called loudly to his nightmares. “And the knowledge that we’re in here where it’s warm and dry, and… cuddly,” he heard the mirth in her voice, “while the storm is raging outside,” well, she got that right, “is so cozy.” She pressed herself harder into him as if to convince him in the truth of her argument.

“I wouldn’t use that word,” he said as he chuckled forcedly, trying to keep the mood light and not drag her into the hurricane in his own mind. “There’s too much thunders and howling wind for it to be peaceful,” he said, hating himself for the quietness of the words since he couldn’t make them louder. And he was afraid to. Afraid that the lightnings would be turned on him if he voiced his complaints.

Griffin moved to look at him and he sighed before meeting her gaze rather reluctantly. “I’m here and I love you,” she said before pressing her lips against his neck and making her way upwards, the softness of her kisses tickling in a way that chased away the unpleasant shivers to replace them with their opposites. “And I’m ready to whisper it to you until it drowns out everything else in your mind,” her hot breath hit his ear, caressing his skin with her promise.

He pulled her closer, entirely on top of him so that he could feel all of her skin. “I’m lucky to have you,” he said as she wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck. His hands tangled in her hair and the softness of the purple tresses chased away the harshness of the memories of electricity coursing through his body and cold biting at his skin as cruel, vicious words rang in his ears.

Here’s an idea I’ve had since forever and I finally managed to get motivated enough to write it. It is an AU in which Faragonda has trouble using her powers and Griffin comes to the rescue.

6 – wings

“There’s no use,” Faragonda said as she plopped herself down on the grass after her latest failed attempt to summon her magic and complete the task of blasting the boulders at the clearing to pieces. “I will never get it.”

“Of course you will,” Griffin put a hand on her shoulder, her touch so impossibly gentle considering the enormous destructive power of her magic. Faragonda could still remember the tremendous wave of magic that had swept over her when she’d first met Griffin who’d stepped in to protect her from three other witches that were bullying her. She’d never felt such raw power before, not even from her own mother who was a fearsome witch infamous in countless realms. How she wished she’d inherited an ounce of that talent but her own powers were laughable at best and nonexistent at worst. She would’ve ended up badly injured if not for Griffin’s interference. “You just need more practice.” Griffin was so patient with her, as if she was special when it couldn’t be further from the truth. She never showed the temper Faragonda knew was lurking under the surface. She’d felt Griffin’s outrage feeding her powers and making her glow with a green magical aura that had scared off the other witches before she’d even unleashed her magic. But those strong negative feelings were nowhere to be seen in their interactions which only made Faragonda feel worse.

“More practice?” She chuckled bitterly. They’d been practicing for almost half a year now with Griffin guiding her calmly and with care only for her to fail again and again. “I’m just wasting your time.” She’d been thrilled when Griffin had agreed to help her. She’d been left in awe of her power and, later, of her comprehension of magic and she’d thought that maybe she’d finally learn. But it was rapidly becoming apparent that that would never happen.

Griffin studied her for a moment and it was the first time she was left unnerved by her gaze. If she agreed with her, there’d be no more reason for them to meet and… she’d lose her best friend. Her only friend. Every other witch inevitably started taunting her for her lack of powers. But even the fact that she’d be the family disappointment that was not talked about at social gatherings didn’t hurt as much as the thought of not seeing Griffin anymore.

“Okay,” Griffin said, making her freeze. “One more try and I won’t press anymore. If you can’t, you can’t and we both accept that,” she was talking as if Faragonda’s success was somehow her responsibility and impacted her directly, making failure her problem. But she’d already done more than anyone else ever had. She’d not only refused to give up on Faragonda, but she’d also encouraged her to keep trying. She’d been just about ready to admit defeat before Griffin had shown up but her lessons had kept her going for six more months despite the constant disappointment for both of them. Even if Griffin never showed any feelings of the sort to her. “But you have to promise me to give your everything, okay?” Griffin put both her hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes, her expression serious.

Faragonda didn’t want to fail her even more so she nodded, summoning all of her determination to see this last attempt through. More for Griffin rather than for herself.

Griffin smiled at her in a way that managed to give her strength and faith even when she knew she would fail and let go of her shoulders to offer her a hand.

Faragonda took it and found herself on her feet when Griffin pulled her up with so much force that she almost stumbled forward, leaving them close to each other, the space between them full of tension. She couldn’t tell if it was anticipation or something unspoken on Griffin’s end, but she knew what it was with her.

Griffin didn’t let go of her just yet. “I know you can do it,” she said, her voice quiet  but not because she didn’t believe in what she said. She was a force of nature and she didn’t need to be loud to be heard. The quiet words contained much more confidence than anyone’s shouts could, much more confidence than Faragonda had. Yet, they didn’t make her afraid of not delivering and only helped her focus on the task at hand instead. Griffin was the only one who had that effect on her. Everyone else made her feel worthless. Including herself.

Griffin finally released her grip on her and made her way to the center of the clearing, reaching for her magic if the significant shift in the atmosphere was any indication. And the slight green glow surrounding her form. She was using a lot of power.

“What do I have to do?” Faragonda asked because she needed instructions. Not that they had ever helped her achieve anything but without any she didn’t stand a chance.

Griffin didn’t answer, focused on what she was doing. Her magic wrapped around the boulders around, making them glow as well, and forced them out of the ground before lifting them in the air. They kept raising higher and higher, driven by the spell Griffin was murmuring and channeling her magic into until they were so high Faragonda could barely see how they drifted closer together above Griffin’s head.

She turned her attention to Griffin, wondering what was going on in her mind. There was no way her weak magic could reach them there. Her blasts had barely made it to the stone surface when they’d been on the ground just a few feet away from her.

Griffin’s eyes opened and the magical aura disappeared as she put an end to her spell. But that meant-

Faragonda looked up to see the heavy boulders plummeting down towards Griffin. They would crush her and she didn’t seem to have any intention of moving, her eyes trained on Faragonda. She had to save her.

That remained the only thought in her head, her whole focus and energy going into it and before she knew it, Griffin was tightly clasped in her arms and they were at the other end of the clearing, the boulders smashing into the ground behind them.

Faragonda waited for the commotion to stop, clutching Griffin hard in her embrace with her eyes closed as she tried to shake off the terror of the experience. “Never again,” she hissed, her voice shaking, when everything calmed down around them and her heart was pounding a little slower, the feeling of it in her throat subsiding enough to let her use her voice more. “Do you hear me, never again,” she growled louder, pulling away to scowl at Griffin which would, hopefully, get her point across.

The expression she was met with was one of total fascination, though, and it took her a moment to process what could’ve evoked that response. But when she looked down, she found herself dressed in a sparkling dark blue skirt and top. It was a fairy outfit and it finally dawned on her that she’d just flown them out of harm’s way. Wings. She had wings. She had transformed and was a fairy.

Griffin reached to touch the shimmering things that were sprouting from her back and she felt the ghost of her touch in the nerves on her back. Apparently the wings were connected to them. “Well, that explains the lack of results,” Griffin said, her voice quiet again but this time it was full of respect. “Stained glass only reveals its beauty in the light.” The witch was in awe – something Faragonda had never seen from her and it helped loosen the grip that the fear had on her throat.

If she’d been the family disappointment before, now she didn’t have to worry about that because they would just outright cut off all contact with her. No fairy was welcome anywhere near them, much less allowed into the family. Her outfit was much brighter than her future.

Griffin seemed to sense her thoughts, for she summoned her magic again but before Faragonda could start worrying, a mirror appeared in front of her and the reflection of her wings captured her attention.

They were indeed the blue of stained glass and weren’t shimmering which left them clear and transparent, see-through just like glass. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered as she touched her hand to the cold surface of the mirror in an illogical attempt to touch them.

“And you’re beautiful, too,” Griffin’s reflection smiled at her. “A beautiful fairy. Just as I thought.” Her hand was on Faragonda’s shoulder again and if anything, the soothing effect of her touch had multiplied now that their friendship was silently confirmed.

Faragonda would ask how she’d come to the conclusion but she was too preoccupied with her overflowing emotions that were all over the place and the only thing that grounded her was the security of the knowledge that Griffin was still her best friend regardless of the fact that she was a fairy. She wasn’t angry at the revelation as Faragonda was sure her family would be. And that was all that mattered right now even if the future was more than scary. So she covered Griffin’s hand with hers, relieved to feel the warmth of her skin and her support because she was sure that that was all she had left besides her newly found winx.

[astxriism]

Okay so I have very big muses for lots of kiddos that I have bouncing around in my head. However, in an attempt to have some semplance of self control. Let me just introduce the five.

Five is a good number right?

Two you’ll know with three Newbies!

Spy  Kid Verse

CODENAME : Achilles

STATUS: Missing in Action WHAT IS KNOWN: Out on a mission with Huntsman and Four. When a bomb went off in front of the car Achilles and Huntsman were in. Achilles was taken from the site of the acident in a black sedan. Neither Huntsman nor Four know who the sedan belongs too. It was found abandon at the dock in lower east side of London.

WHAT ISN’T KNOW (YET): Achilles is in critical condition. Taking by a Turkish war criminal . A man that Achilles believed he dealt with on a previous mission with Hades years ago. Apparently,  he didn’t take so kindly to the man gaining his trust and friendship and stabbing him in the back. Achilles knows pertinent information that could send the war criminal in prison for a very long time. As much as he might want to He won’t kill Achilles, his daughter fell for the spy rather quickly and insisted that her father not harm the man further. Of course, there is no telling how long Achilles will stay in her’s or her father's good graces.  The Huntsman was involved; the extent of that invovlment and what he gained is unknow at this moment. CODENAME: Four

STATUS: ACTIVE

WHAT IS KNOWN:  Four was on site when Achilles was taken. Even chased after the car that he was put into. It was becuase of her efforts that Headquarters was able to get the tags of the vehicle.  Achilles trained her up, a big brother in a lot of ways to the orphan. They blame themselves for not getting to him in time. Which only makes her more determined to figure out who took him. Incredibly stubborn, there is little anyone can say or do to convince her not to try and find him. She was last seen, combing through some of Achilles old case files trying to see if any of he’s prior cases  he worked on might be connected to his disappearance. 

WHAT ISN’T KNOWN: Four has their eyes on David as a prime suspect. Even with the agency clearing him there is something that just never sat right with Four when it came to David. Of course, a feeling isn’t proof but as her mentor often told her —it was  a good place to start. She isn’t sure who she can trust at this point but is currently looking for anyone who might have worked with Achilles on old cases.

CODENAME : Huntsman

STATUS: ACTIVE

WHAT IS KNOWN: The Huntsman and Achilles were both in the car during the explosion. When he was questioned and given a lie detector test (which he passed). He confirmed the black sedan taking Achilles but couldn’t remember much else after that.

WHAT ISN’T KNOWN:  David looks out for himself first. He didn’t always use to be this way. However, as the years has gone on and he has seen both the ‘good guys’ and the ‘bad guys’ use the same tactics. He is under the belief that nothing is ever as black and white as people believe. Which is why he has been working for The Turkish gang leader for years. The man practically raised him and Achilles. Achilles betrayal didn’t come as a shock. the war criminal knew for quite some time where Rowan had disappeared too. David has been working as a double agent for years now . However, even though he might work for the Turkish gang lord. He does not answer to him. David has bigger plans set in motion.

CODENAME: Killmongur

STATUS: SEMI- ACTIVE

WHAT IS KNOWN: Killmongur has been sent to Achilles last location. A trained tracker, it is the agency’s hope that she can make a quick and speedy recovery. She is currently available on an encrypted message channel for the time being. 

WHAT IS UNKNOWN:  Zyra doesn’t mess around... most of the time. Her weapon of choice is a knife- not that you would see it coming. While she didn’t know Achilles well. There are few people that didn’t know him  or like him. Either way this is an opportunity to make a name for herself in the agency. She has gone off script instead of going to Spain as the agency intel suggested. Her findings has sent her and her partner to Prague.

Blood Moon Rising

NAME: Angelica

SPECIES: HYBRID

BACKSTORY:  Angelica came from a long line of witches. But she has always felt a connection to the wolfpack. She even has a familiar within the pack or had one. Before she died, Angelica asked to be turned by her wife. Who refused; not wanting Angelica to risk her life because not everyone bitten was able to withstand the transformation. After much debating Rachel finally gave to her wife’s pleading. It was painful but Angelica did make it through her transformation. As did her powers, under the impression that her powers would go away once she was turned. Angelica was deighted to find her magic still intact. Apparently, the wolf spirits have plans for her and the pack. Starting with finding the three of the blood to fulfill the prophecy. Now, she waits ever watching ever listening for the spirits to guide her to the next step.

[elhoimleafar]

The devil of witchcraft in the Amazonas. #Lucifer #Satanas

Unlike many other similar posts that you may have read on the internet before, if you already know my work as a writer and blogger, you know that I do not summarize what others write, there are others writing about it, I prefer to focus on writing about what I know, and that implies (most of the time) that many other authors and writers are going to completely disagree with me, but that's what my blog has always been about, writing from my perspective and experience, even when this It sounds a bit arrogant on my part, but I think the diversity of views is important in these issues.

Already after rambling a bit to introduce you to the topic (something silly but necessary), now to return here to the topic we came to, several months ago I posted a very silly phrase on my twitter account due to an entirely personal situation, the tweet read the following:

“In my culture, we do not venerate the devil and in my family, we never discuss if it exists or not, but if he goes around I think he owes me a couple of favors 🤔 where are my devil?”.

And as expected, he receives more questions and doubts than he expected, and it is understandable, in this modern hodgepodge of witchcraft / Wicca / paganism, where everything seems to enter but nothing can come out, and everything ends up transforming into something much in there. more ethnic and weird, and that really doesn't bother me at all, this only seems to piss off some 'pseudo-keyboard activists' who fight “at heart” against something they call cultural appropriation.

The topic to be discussed here is about the devil's belief in witchcraft, although I recognize that I am not the most qualified to talk about the subject, I am sure that this will help as support material for others in the future, at least as a reference, Maybe because of my origin and ethnicity.

The devil, this charismatic, eccentric, witty and vivacious Christian folklore character who seems to earnestly gain more followers than his apparent creator and father, is today (and perhaps always has been, I don't know that) one of the most common characters in folklore linked to witchcraft and magic.

Something that I understand, admire and respect greatly, is that many modern wizards and pagans come from the Catholic religion, and many of them for that reason tend to include the belief in this 'malevolent' character as part of their practice, which although not It seems to correspond to them, in a way it has been linked to the witches since the time of the persecution, if my mother said "it is totally absurd to persecute someone for venerating something they do not believe", I also understand that persecutors of witches accused them of venerating the devil for being what they identified with evil, especially because certain verses of the Old Testament promote the taking of immoral actions against witches, which he repeatedly calls " Demon lovers. ”

Perhaps for practitioners of black magic and other forms of dark arts, I am referring here to true practitioners who perform rituals and invocations, not those who read hundreds of books and do not practice anything (usually they know much less than they believe ), these in their practice venerate the figure of evil in the form of the devil, and the few that I have known in my personal life, assure me that they believe in the devil and venerate him in different ways, not publicly (or attending any church), and they claim to receive huge favors, benefits, and powers from this character.

Now, in my case and from my point of view, the first time I remember hearing that word "devil", I remember that I was 10 years old, I was waiting for my mother outside of school, she arrived entirely dressed in white, because she was at that time living her stage of 'iyaworaje' as a follower of Santería, and I clearly remember that Professor Lucía Ramírez, commented to another of the representatives “oh yes, that is the lady who is diabolic”, I I kept quiet and when I got in the car, I asked my Mom, she only replied “oh, the devil is the one to blame for everything”, she has always been very crude to answer about these types of issues, not telling me nothing else, I waited until I got home and asked the same question to my sisters, one of them 'Neyiber' replied that the devil was a kind of dark god that “certain people” revere and others are afraid of, and every time someone does something wrong, or something bad happens and the reasons are not understood, they simply blame him.

I continued with the doubt for some time, perhaps because I have never been very sociable, especially in school so I did not ask anyone, on the contrary, I waited until I got some books and a dictionary to inform me about the subject, and although with the passing of I have continued to have many doubts about this, at least I have informed myself much more and a broader view on the subject.

"There are no devils in witchcraft and magic" ...

So says an old saying that many preach and I believe in him, but I understand that this is a matter of perspective that plays with the beliefs of the origin of each individual, some believe that the devil is the one who gives his powers to the witches, others think that he works directly with the witches who seek to do evil, and not with other witches, the Wiccans see it as something alien to their practice, pagan wizards mostly refuse to believe in it, I personally see it as one of many myth-surviving gods, as a kind of dark god, a trickster like Loki, and from what I have read I understand that he was a beautiful and wise angel of light who was in a way, punished for believing himself as great as his creator, I see him as a representation of rebellion and freedom, an archetype of the rebellious and tempting god that you can find in all myths, and obviously an ingenious master of sorcery.

My experience in the Amazon.

If you have the opportunity to visit the Amazon, and if you can visit the Wayuu and Caribbean tribes, you will understand that the devil is a belief entirely alien to them, they do not understand it for different reasons, mostly because the beliefs of origin teach them that gods are unequivocally flat, the gods of light only give children of light and the gods and dark spirits only bring darkness, but it is difficult for them to understand that a god of light has a perfect child and it is revealed.

Most of the Amazonian folklore is recorded in old books that are contained in the national public library of Venezuela, and which, unfortunately, on issues of Economy and Government, have not had the opportunity to be digitized, so what many of us know, We know really very little, in the vicinity of the Orinoco River some healers of the old school call it “awujii” (the one that was brought), referring to the Amazonian legend that tells the arrival of some clouds over the blue sea, and in whose clouds full of iron men came a spirit of redemption and light, and a dark spirit that would bring misfortunes, temptations and death to the tribes.

For them clearly the devil is something completely alien to their faith, but if you visit those aboriginal peoples that survive in the vicinity of the border with Colombia, where the Catholic faith has mixed and diversified with the native pagan faith, where the Cults of the different gods, the devil is known as "the pinzao" a horrendous demon with burned skin, four eyes without pupils on the face and bat wings, the size of a dog that moves among the trees and deceives the who get lost at night, take the form of the deceased and give sweet gifts to children and treasures to adult men and women in exchange for serving them for life, these men, women, and children who fall under their influence become sorcerers who fly at night and transform into all kinds of animals, and this character "the pinzao" can possess their bodies to walk in the human world and have sex.

Now, the indigenous indigenous groups of the Yaracuy state, the caquetíos, gayones and jiraxaras, see the devil as an annoying "pixie" that grants all kinds of wishes in exchange for granting him three favors, one at dawn, one at sunset and one at midnight, that pixie seems to have many names for them, but they all clearly describe him always with the same characteristics, a dwarf man with very dark purple skin, pointed ears, always naked and with six fingers on each hand.

In the Amazonian folklore there is also the figure of “Aworie”, described with all the characteristics of a faun, a bearded man of short stature with animal legs and horns on his head, this character “Aworie” has an iron crown around of his horns which he decorates with precious stones, he is the king of the women who leave the tribe to not marry and he, grants them powers and gifts, these women then do not age and do not know the disease, can see at night and speak The tongue of all animals, these women give birth to the children of Aworie every eight moons and these children, who look like men with horns, have powers to cause disease and call thunderstorms.

Now, although I usually mention having worked with the magic books of the old school "the grimoire of Solomon", "the book of St. Cyprian" and similar ones where they always mention the character, I have never worked with him and never I have had the need to do it, clearly that is not my way, but I invite you to answer below if you have any personal experience or anecdote about it.

Hugs and lots of light...

[doctor-sailor-investigator]

Giving Steve a Hogwarts Verse:

Hogwarts AU where Doris McGarrett was a witch and John was a Muggle. Doris’ work overseas granted her a lot of pull, having gained traction and enemies she didn't tell John about, knowing he wanted children, she would talk about Hogwarts  and about how impressive it was and reassured him it was the safest place on earth, pulled some strings to get her children enrolled there should they too have magic. She ‘died’ before Steve got his letter, but when it came it was from Hogwarts rather than any of the American schools. Steve suspected that his father blamed magic for his mother’s death to the point that he couldn’t really look at Steve, who used to bond with his mother by practicing low level magic at home. Whenever Mary Ann showed signs of magic, John to nip it in the bud, and sent Steve away. Whenever he visited, which was mostly in the summer, Mary Ann would be sent to Aunt Deb, to keep them apart and from Steve from ‘corrupting’ his sister. Eventually Steve stopped going home, making a new one for himself in the magical world.

Not being a Pureblood made things slightly difficult, but he was everything his House accepted him for. Cunning and ambitious. Inspired by his muggle namesake, Steve delves into creating military-grade magical security warding. Incantations and sigils trademarked by the McGarrett name, used by places like Gringrotts and St. Mungos.

Along the way, he sired a son. He learned about him when the child was about six years old. Taking claim of his child was a bit of a drama but it was done.

Jack was also sorted into Slytherin House, but they had a complicated relationship with. Steve was always busy with work and Jack wasn’t always sure what that work was, for his own safety. Times were...difficult. Business wasn't always so black and white. His father and sister were safe by being far away and non-magic. His son seemed to be capable of defending himself but still Steve wanted to build him an empire that will survive through the war and whatever happens after.

[back-alley-magic]

NPC Name: Vivian Chen Special Role: The Redeemer

Weapons:Staff stamped with a sigil on its blunt end for paralysis and tipped in iron (which is poisonous to fae and shifters).

Believes magical creatures are a necessary evil, and may even be positive for maintaining balance in the city. They are worried the Pretender King is going to lead the city into a needless war.

FC: Liu Wen 

Age: 35

Occupation: Knight Personality:

+Very loyal, especially to the Knights and those she cares about

+Very, very patient....except for when it comes to people that she deems "hopelessly incompetent"

+Hard-working and diligent; has never been afraid of putting in effort+Confident in her own abilities as a Knight

+Calm and collected, no matter the situation. Good in a crisis.

+A good listener, and surprisingly good at explaining things and teaching other people, given her reserved demeanor

+Analytical and observant. Doesn't miss much

+Doesn't get stressed or distracted easily. Doesn't get too excited about anything that easily, either

+Accepting and non-judgmental. Good at remaining objective in all situations; very diplomatic

+Level-headed; keeps her wits about her under pressure and in emergency situations.

+Dutiful, which makes her "brave". Though she doesn't know how courageous she would be if she didn't have the Knights to fight for.

-/+Places value in "doing the right thing". Perhaps too much value.

-/+Quiet and reserved; doesn't say much.

-/+Rather stern, most of the time. She doesn't laugh all that often.

-/+Doesn't trust easily

-/+But once you gain her trust, she'll follow you to the edge of the world and back

-/+A bit of the strong, silent type

-/+Uses her stoic demeanor as a way of masking her true feelings

-/+Unsure and uncertain about where she stands regarding magical beings and the Knights; she doesn't want to betray the Knights and everything that she has stood for and fought for all these years, but at the same time, she can't help but be convinced that the Knights are going down the wrong path

-Not very good at talking about her feelings

-Not very good at talking about feelings in general

-Will drive herself to exhaustion if not stopped-Hates being viewed as weak or vulnerable

-Tends to play by the rules, no matter wha

t-Kinda indecisive, because she doesn't know how to do the "right thing" or what the right thing really is, at this point-

A bit on the blunt side; has never been one for manners and wordplay when a straight-forward answer will do. But at the same time, she knows how to word her criticisms and advice without offending anyone

-As mentioned before, Vivian really isn't very good at talking about feelings/emotions; she tends to bottle everything up because it's "not important" (at least, in her eyes), and she can already feel herself cracking

-Plagued by nightmares involving a certain incident in Peru, though she refuses to talk about it. But people who know Vivian well can see it in the bags under her eyes and her pale, drawn face

-Has no idea what the hell she's doing, only that she must do what's right for the world. But what's "right" is only becoming more and more ambiguous as time goes on

Short bio: The entirety of Vivian's immediate family was composed of Knights, and the entirety of Vivian's immediate family was killed by Powered beings (well, besides her mother, who is a half-lucid paraplegic. But still). Vivian grew up with her parents always away, chasing down some Shifter or witch or Fae or the other. Vivian's father was killed by a Fae when she was five. Her mother was permanently paralyzed from waist-down by a Shifter when Vivian was twelve. Her younger brother, who was part of a team sent to track down a rogue witch, is missing and presumed dead. That was ten years ago.

Vivian was always dutiful and hard-working, and although she was no prodigy, her quiet diligence and unwavering loyalty in her earlier years caught the attention of the other Knights and the Pretender King. She slowly but surely rose up the ranks, and she didn't question anything. She didn't question the fact that her family was ripped apart by this lifestyle. She didn't question the fact that some of the Powered beings the Knights hunted were perfectly innocent. The thought that what the Knights were doing wasn't /right/ never even crossed her mind.

However, as Vivian learned of the Pretender King's true intentions, she began to question the path that the Knights were on. If all Powered beings just disappeared from this world, what would happen to the Knights? What would happen to everything they'd built and created and looked after? Vivian began to realize that a certain /balance/ was needed, and she wondered if there was a better way-one that didn't involve so much bloodshed, one that didn't involve families being ripped apart and innocents being murdered. Of course, Vivian kept these thoughts to herself. They were practically /traitorous/, and for someone like Vivian, who had always followed the rules to the T, it was, well...frightening.

It wasn't until Peru that Vivian began seriously considering these thoughts. When a Shifter who could turn into a jaguar stole several important magical artifacts that the Knights were keeping locked away in Morrow, Vivian and a couple of other Knights were sent to get them back. They found the Shifter in Peru, on the edge of the jungle. Thinking that he was alone, the Knights decided to attack-only to be ambushed by a couple of the Shifter's allies.

Vivian doesn't remember much besides the pain and the confusion and snapping jaws closing around her shoulder and arm and leg, and the pain and the darkness and the /red/ and the pain and the pain and the pain, and every time she /tries/ to remember more her head hurts and her body gets all tense, so she just doesn't try anymore. Sometimes, she thinks that she's just imagining things, but the scars-the scars, two running down her face from her left eye to her chin and the scars all over her back and her limbs-they are proof that it was /real/.

The other Knights left her for dead, and truly, Vivian doesn't blame them. She herself thought that she was going to die, too, but instead she woke up in the deep depths of the rain forest, and although her memory is quite hazy, Vivian remembers the faint smell of guavas and the sound of someone murmuring in a strange, foreign language, and the gentlest hands that she'd ever encountered. And the pain, the blood, the jaguar-all gone.

Next thing she knew, Vivian was being shaken awake in a hospital, and then she left for Morrow, as bewildered as her fellow Knights about her miraculous survival. She brushed off the memory of the jungle as a fever dream-or she would have, if her clothes didn't smell like sticky-sweet guavas and if there weren't dried flower petals caught in her pockets and zippers.

Vivian suspects that it was a Witch Proper that healed her in that jungle, but she cannot say why. All she knows is that now, more than ever, the Knights are on the wrong path. The Pretender King will destroy all of Morrow, if he must, in the name of "justice"-and Vivian knows that it's just plain /wrong/.

Connection to the magical side of Morrow or to your character: 

Being a Knight, Vivian is very well-versed on all the Powered beings and is quite knowledgeable on how magic works. She has encountered all sorts of Powered beings in her lifetime, and has been actively hunting them down for years and years now. Recently, she has been frequenting spots that are known to be popular amongst the magical folk and trying to learn as much as she can about them-for "research purposes", of course.

Vivian would probably feel some sort of recognition if she ever crossed paths with Verdínqa-she felt her presence back in the jungle, after all-but she also probably wouldn't know /why/ she recognized her. Vivian thinks that it was a Witch Proper who fixed her up (and indeed, it was, though that witch only helped Vivian because Verdínqa asked her to). Of course, Vivian is aware of Verdínqa's existence, thanks to the Researcher's book, and she does have a slight suspicion that Verdínqa had something to do with her miraculous survival, but she isn't really sure /how/.

How much do they know about the magical aspects of Morrow? Do they favor a faction?

Vivian knows quite a lot about the magical aspects of Morrow, and she's always trying to learn more. Obviously, Vivian favors the Knights, though she wishes for balance and peace in between Knights and magical beings. She doesn't favor a specific magical faction, really, though she isn't too fond of Shifters due to...personal experience.

Greatest wish? To figure out what she should do-right now, all she knows is that what the Pretender King wants to do is wrong, and that she needs to find a way to stop him and maintain the balance. But she doesn't know /how/. Greatest fear? That the Pretender King will have his way and destroy Morrow in his delusional quest to eradicate all magical creatures from this world.

[liveshaunted-moved]

Headcanon Dump; Morgan

morgan’s hair is magically chamred to look blonde, only those in the charming household know their hair is naturally blue.

morgan sided with chad & audrey with the whole ‘ben is love with mal’ thing

their powers are  Geokinesis,  Necromancy, Fairy Magic,  Umbrakinesis,  Thermokinesis ( basing powers on pjo / nico’s ablilties )

they have a skull birthmark on their inner left wrist, looking like a tattoo

once, as a baby, sneezed and turned into a black dragon

knows that they’re adopted, and doesn’t care about their birthparents. as the charming’s are their parents

morgan swears a lot. there is a swear jar in the charming household. most of it is morgan.

morgan is very protective of those they care about and will do anything to protect them

they are VERY GOOD at holding grudges, it comes from both parents.

morgan is more powerful then mal, and NO you can not fight me on it

morgan will hold mal responsible for what she did to audrey and chad and ben. morgan would expect a full apology from mal to; ben, to audrey, to chad, before morgan would ever consider forgiving mal for what she did.

morgan understands spells and understands that ben wouldn’t want to harshly / hurt mal, even though mal did spell him - they understand that, and only wants ben to apologise for hurting audrey, to audrey

when i say morgan would kill someone who hurt chad, i mean that literally. you do not hurt their family. they would kill someone if those who they care about are that badly hurt

morgan would absolutely adore persephone. they meet the goddess once, and loved her. was sad they never saw the pretty lady again

despite never having been in water, or an ocean or flying morgan has a fear of those. the only way they feel confident in the air is if they’re in their dragon form. that is it.

morgan loves persephone, and persephone is one of their favourite goddess ( as state in another headcanon ), mainly because of the time when i headcanon morgan meeting the goddess. they went and looked up goddess of flowers, or asked their mother to help them. and that was how they learnt about the greek gods, and started to believe in them. and started to pray to them.

morgan absolutely loves flowers and totally one year for an art project for school did it on persephone’s garden & hecate’s cave

morgan would be the kind of person to spoil their partner in affection and small gifts. a flower almost every two days, or a little note here and there

morgan practices hellenism, their favourite gods/goddess are, heacte, persephone, hestia, hermes & dionysus

due to not knowing where they came from, or who their parents are - there for not knowing what they are. morgan self identifies as a witch, despite the stigma that auradon has about witches. only those close to them know of this.

morgan HATES bullies, they understand not getting along, they know the difference between not getting along and bullying. so if morgan ever finds out that mal bullied, because that is what mal did, evie and carlos, and any of the other isle kids, morgan will flat out have an animosity towards mal.

i don’t think morgan would ever get along with mal, personally. this may end up thread to thread dependant, portrayal to portrayal dependant. but my general stance is that, morgan isn’t a huge fan of mal due to what mal has done to those close to them. hurting chad and audrey and tricking / spelling ben, that doesn’t sit right with morgan, nor does manipulating jane

morgan has a dragon form, it’s black and when they were four years old, their dragon form was already at five feet big.

by the time they reach the age of twenty three, their dragon form will be at it’s biggest which will be nearly thirty feet in length or potentially sixty

fire can be fired out of their mouth, it is a dark blue, with a lighter blue smoke

eyes are a fiery blue colour, a glowing blue almost

despite being adopted into a high royal family, morgan totally campaigns for sidekick & isle kids rights

morgan truly only has control over their magic, because fairy godmother can only teach them so much, fgm can’t teach morgan about controlling the dead, controlling anything that comes from hades. fgm can only do so much, and taught morgan breathing exercises to use when one of their powers that are more found with hades pops up.

they can’t bring in a god, bc that would get the charming’s and some of auradon questioning why they need someone like that to teach this kid.

morgan is the type of person, much like give gifts & little notes and flowers, to be very affectionate.

they, will always be the kind to kiss you on your forehead, cheek, back of the head, knuckles. anywhere and any kind. romantic? platonic? yes. because they feel like everyone deserves to feel loved

morgan has nightmares of them drowning & of falling from the sky / being struck by lightning. they have no idea where it came from.

even when in dragon form, while they might be less afraid of flying there still is that bit of fear within them

morgan has their own 3d printer, and, yes, they don’t let chad use it. it’s a little magically enhanced.

morgan loves their family more then anything. okay. no matter what universe, not matter what. their family is their life. and once they start calling you family, that’s it, you’re their family. it also doesn’t have to be by blood

morgan setting up a spell that allows them to know when people are having a bad day, or night, or a bad dream? more likely then you think. they would work hard on this, and even harder when the vk’s come over. it is finally mastered and every time they walk down the corridors of the dorms, they have their hands out - speaking the spell, and at every room they find someone having a bad day or nightmare, they magically pop in something like random flowers, or sweets into the room, or a cup that is magically filled with the person’s favourite drink.

them working on something specifically for nightmares, and always carrying around a few calming potions, that help calm someone down enough that they can sleep again. that them working on how to minimise nightmares, but realising they can’t but they can make something for after.

morgan just wants to help everyone. them setting up an ‘underground’ shop where they ‘sell’ their calming potions, their potions to help after nightmares. they don’t ask for much in return, because all they really want, is for everyone feel good.

morgan uses magic outside of their lessons with fairy godmother. it’s never anything major, or noticeable. and it’s always to help out others.

when that shit that went down with uma&mal at the ball? morgan noticed right away that ben was under some form of spell. they’ve been studying magic their whole life, they know a spell when they see one. and kind of why they won’t blame ben fully for his actions because they noticed he was spelled. and why they really won’t get along with mal because that seemed like a spell of maleficent then a trick of the evil queen or jafar.

morgan also then sympathies a bit with uma, because they see the way uma is reacting to mal. and they see that uma’s reason for spelling was different to mal’s ( at time spell was used )

When in the presence of a god, morgan will call them Lord/Lady *name of god/ess*, and yes this is included Hades.

the fire of morgan’s hair actually burns out fairy godmother’s charm on their hair. and often has to get the magic topped up, almost every six months. so morgan’s ‘haircuts’ are them going to fairygodmother for a touch up of magic. the spell was not taught to morgan

you know what,morgan’s hair is actually naturally blue not purple, purple is mal, morgan isn’t mal & is more hades in the sense of a lot of things

morgan is the kind of person to hate when people put people down, especially when it comes to appearance ( and things that can’t be changed ), which is why they like to always say things that are uplifiting. and if a partner, will leave / give positive notes in lockers, with flowers or chocolates.

it has been once said that, because of morgan’s helpful nature ‘are you sure you’re chad’s sibling? you sure you’re not adopted’ to which, they reply ‘i AM chad’s sibling, and i AM adopted.’ all with a hitched eyebrow and arms crossing against their chest.

morgan is so full of love, but will fight anyone who hurt those they care about.

morgan knows how to fence, play tourney, and is actually very sporty. but .. like doesn’t play for the school

morgan doesn’t know how to swim, and honestly refuses to go into big bodies of water. it honestly scares them. them even going to the cotillion? HUGE step tbh. but boy did they run out when uma fled into the sea bc they did not want to be in the water, so they uh…magically transported themselves back to their dorm room where they ended up having a panic attack by themselves. bc her mind told them that the boat was going to tip, or that mal and uma would fight hugely and that’s make the boat tip. it uh… scared them too much.

morgan’s main verse, has morgan storming off after the proposal, to a spot where they like, but can still see the vk’s coming in. this is how they transformed into their huge dragon form without hurting any of the ak’s. they were in an area where they couldn’t hurt anyone

zeus is morgan’s least favourite gods. mainly because most of their fears are things he controls. heights ( the sky ), thunder & lightning.

you think the core four were the first people to take fgm goodness class? you’re wrong.  morgan’s been taking it since they started school. they don’t know why, but it’s a class they have, and only after ben’s call to bring over the core four did they stop taking it.

morgan’s irrational fears are irrational to everyone but them, and the charming’s and fgm. because one day when morgan was seven, they acciddently shadow travelled, after thinking hard about their father, but the thought was ‘DAD’ not king charming specifically. they had just wanted their father, and then the shadows took them over, sending them to the isle but because of the barrier - morgan bumped into nothing and started falling into the water, screaming their head off before finally turning into their dragon form a few feet above the water.

they don’t understand why the thought of ‘dad / father’ sent them that close to the isle. fgm saved them, and brought them back to their home. now when they think of it, it sends them to the right person, and they end up at king charming’s feet or anywhere near him.

morgan has found it’s better to picture a face rather then a name

morgan is taller then chad. not by much, but they are taller

the charming’s uh… have been told they need to keep morgan as calm as possible. because once when, after their first magical out burst, got angry at another kid, their hair went up in flames, scaring the kid and fgm had to come in and like… wipe the kids memories of it bc morgan’s parentage can not be found out

after the events of d3, i think morgan would start to wear their hair out naturally in the sense of not going to fgm for the charm that colours their hair to match that of the charming’s

while they might be upset with ben, they still care about him. morgan is upset with ben for letting it drag on, and waiting for the ‘right time’ to say he wasn’t spelled anymore. ben is still someone they care about

Morgan keeps every gift given to them

morgan is very neutral, most of the time they are nice, and loving and wanting to spread love to everyone, but if you hurt one of their friends / family, they will be OUT FOR BLOOD. you do not want to harm anyone they love, this is why morgan does NOT like mal. especially if mal hasn’t apologised in three years!

morgan’s goodness classes came in hand with their magic controlling lessons, both of which were done in private, compared to the ‘public’ way that the core four’s class was given

due to the way they were born, morgan ages differently, this is why they put it down to when they’re in their thirties and still look like they did when they were twenty, and everyone ele clearly looks older - but then, everyone starts dying as they grow older, and… morgan takes a huge while for them to realises that maybe, just maybe they won’t age anymore. even longer to realise what that means.

morgan would often train with chad and loves/d whenever they could play sports together, but either way, morgan still would never try out for any school teams

you know what morgan would find extremely calming? someone painting on their back.

if morgan is dating or friends with someone who is an artist, musician, actor, sports player, author you bet your ass morgan is there to hype them up. they will be promoting them all the time.

no matter the verse, when morgan wants to be a parent - they will not carry the child. that is something the are certain on. if their partners is female and they have a donor, they will let their partner take on the pregnancy, but morgan will not. otherwise, morgan is adopting the children.

so more then likely, when morgan becomes a parent, it’s through adoption.

i think, one of the reasons morgan doesn’t like mal, aside from my other reasons written in bios and headcanons, is that mal, someone who grew up with no magic and was probably told that upon entering auradon that magic wasn’t allowed - but still used it and essentially got away with it scottfree ( from the adults ) because she grew up on the isle and doesn’t know better. and morgan knows in her bones that mal knew what she was doing, that while plans switched - they were all her doing, and she didn’t have to do them, but she still did.

whereas morgan, who grew up in auradon, and told to hide their magic and their powers all their life get’s scolded if they are caught using their magic; despite morgan being the one trained in magic because morgan has to go to magic classes ( unknown to them, set by adam ) so they can control them

morgan can be very morally grey, while, having grown up in the charming’s household, under the influence of Ella - morgan get’s their kindness from their mother. their temper and ability to hold grudges are from their biological parents - and they know this.

morgan has a HIGH pain tolerance

never ever call cinderella, cinderella in front of morgan, it is ELLA. morgan will come for your life if you don’t fix it, or ignore morgan telling you that it is ella

morgan offering isle kids, free magic lessons. to help them learn control of the thing that now flows through them!!!!!!!

her asking fgm for a classroom when more kids keep coming, and making it an official class

the kingdom making magic feel welcomed and not something to be ashamed of!

morgan would throw a halloween party & would invite everyone

morgan is 100% about the platonic ‘i love you’s’ and making sure everyone they know and care for, knowing that they love them. the idea of someone they care for not knowing that? they hate it.

sometimes they say it with their love language ( homemade gifts & cards ), or they’ll flat out just say it or text it etc

morgan loves lunch dates, they mostly love lunch dates with their friends. lunch dates to them, are more reserved for their friends more then they would a romantic partner

morgan’s main love language is giving gifts ( mostly selfmade ) and just time spent with the person.

has adhd

morgan for the most part is out by the time they’re fifteen. first as non-binary then as pansexual, first said bisexual but later felt pansexual was a better term for them.

here is the thing, morgan loves everyone and has respect for everyone but, once you loose the respect it is very hard to ever get it back.

so king adam, fairy godmother, belle have lost their respect. mal lost it and will never get it. ben is on thin ice due to morgan knowing he was under a spell ( and my personal hc is that ben does apologise to audrey, so morgan is on okay terms with ben, but it’s not were it use to be )

[rebelrosepetels]

•OUAT VERSE•

Bᴀsɪᴄ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

♔ ɴᴀᴍᴇ — Roselyn Turpin-Mills

♔ ᴀɢᴇ — (Varies depending on SL )

♔ ᴘʀoғғᴇsɪᴏɴ — TBA

♔ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴ — Enchanted Forest

♔ ʀᴀɪsᴇᴅ— Enchanted Forest, Storybrooke, Maine, Wonderland

♔ sᴛᴀᴛᴜs — TBA

♔ sᴘᴇᴄɪᴇs — Half witch/ Half human

♔ ʀᴀᴄᴇ— Caucasian

ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

♔ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ— Maggie Agatha O’Reily- Turpin

♔ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ— Edmund Turpin

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

♔ ғᴄ— Amanda Seyfried

Bɪᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ

♔ Sɪᴢᴇ & Sʜᴀᴘᴇ—

Slim but curvy, porcelain colored skin, 5’ 4” height, fit

♔ ᴇʏᴇs & ʜᴀɪʀ—

Big bright emeralds with long flowing blonde curly hair

♔ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ—

Though naive Rose was a special child, She was more intelligent then most her age. Being a rebellious runaway caused Rose to enjoy mischief. She is known to be very sarcastic. If she trusts you which is very seldom she will be very caring and rather kind hearted. But if you break her trust, you will feel her wrath till the day you die. She is quite wise, but her actions and attitude covers a lot of that up. Rose is rather independent and enjoys reading. She has great confidence but can act arrogant and cold at times. Rose can be very flirtatious sometimes but that’s only her personality, she doesn’t mean anything by it. Usually Rose enjoys pressing people’s buttons and sometimes she presses the wrong buttons and finds herself in a trap she can’t escape. Way deep down Rose cares greatly and loves deeply but she rarely will show it unless you can dig under her extremely tough shell She is committed to fighting for what she wants till she can no longer fight. Rose is known to be a stubborn and rather hard headed girl, she always is trying to prove some one wrong and sometimes she actually enjoys arguing. She’s always longed to be free of the hell she lives but inside she has accepted the fact that she could never truly escape and that another reason why she is so rebellious and pretends to not care. She persists to keep her reputation, whether it’s a good or bad decision or not. She tends to prefer animals to humans and is used to being alone. She comes off as a bitch but she’s nothing of the sort.

♔ ᴇxᴛʀᴀ(ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ)—

Rose doesn’t have many friends and will be found in the library, A forest, or somewhere where she could be completely alone, and if she isn’t there , Rose will most likely be at Granny’s place sipping on a whiskey

Born into royality but raised completely opposite. She won’t talk about her past to just anyone and is very classy, and sassy. She tried to win approval from those she admires but often fails because she’s plucky and pushes people away too much.

♔ ʙᴀᴄᴋɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ—

Before Rose was born her father made a deal with Rumplestiltskin to be given a potion that would get the woman of his dreams to fall in love with him, for a magic bean. However, instead of doing as he said, the man gave Rumple an ordinary bean. When he found out about this, he got his revenge by cursing the man’s wife, on the day she had her first child, she would become deathly ill and die. This curse proceeded to happen and instead of taking responsibility, he blamed Rose. As Rose grew older, her father would often times abuse her, he was always found with alcohol of any type and would drink till he would beat the girl.

Rose’s mother had been a witch and when Rose became older she began practicing her magic becoming more aware of it, she would often times heal her own wounds or use a spell to not look beaten. When she was thirteen, Rose had enough of her father and stabbed him in the chest with a knife.

This was when Rumple reappeared in her life, he guided her into using her magic more, teaching her how to draw the darkness out, however Rose resented him and tried to hide her magic.

That was when she ran away from her home and ended up in the forest where she met Cora Mills. Of course being naive, Rose didn’t know who Cora was but Cora saw potential in Rose, she sensed the blonde had magic and instead of turning her away, Cora took her under her wing. Seeing that Rose had blood on her attire, Cora had manipulated Rose into telling her what happened. Rose lived with Cora, becoming closer to Zelena than Regina till Cora forced Regina to become queen then the blonde left and tried to find her way to Wonderland where she could find her step-mother.

By trading her heart for a magic bean to Rumple, she managed to create a portal to Wonderland. Still young, the blonde was a bit rebellious and because of this, Cora saw Rose as a disappointment. By the time she returned back to the Enchanted Forest, Regina’s curse was in action causing the blonde to be taken to Storybrooke along with the others but because Regina didn’t know about Rose’s return she was sent back with all of her memory.

Eventually when Rose made it to Storybrooke, She worked at Granny’s and stayed on the down low side till Rumple approached her about her past. He made a deal with her that she would be able to go back home with her heart if she would kill the Savior when Henry brought her there. Instead of listening to him, Rose denied his request and when Emma came, she used her magic to cross the town line. However, still having her heart Rumple kept a hold on the blonde using her as his assistant for the shop once it was returned to normal, she agreed to it out of fear.

Once Emma found Storybrooke and the curse was lifted, the blonde asked Rumple to return her heart. Having his focus on other things he decided to let her free.

When Cora returned to Storybrooke, Rose was finally reunited with her, she explained that she was coming back for her heart and though Cora was heartless at the time, she understood because deep down she cared for Rose just as Rose did with Cora. While they were there, Cora convinced Rose to get close to Henry thinking that if she was close enough, then she would get through to Regina, however instead Emma and Rose ended up becoming best friends, this didn’t happen till after Cora’s death.

However when Rose had the chance to leave Storybrooke she did and moved to New York to attempt at a normal life. Realizing that wasn’t possible, the blonde returned back home.

When Emma visited The Underworld, she snuck a ride there to talk with her mother where she explained what happened with Emma even though Cora saw the entire thing. Managing to fix their unfinished business, Rose left once Emma had the portal open. When she left, Rose found a way to talk to Zelena who used her wand to allow Rose to have a way back to the Enchanted Forest where she felt safe.

♔ wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇss(s)— Family, her partner, chocolate, alcohol, weed, smokes…

♔ sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs— Mature, capable of handling just a bout anything, physical fightingAnd magical fighting, intelligent and drop dead gorgeously

♔ Fʟᴀᴡs—Stubborn, awkward, head strong, conceals way too much, rebellious, annoying, dramatic, hates everything, possessive

♔ ʙʀᴏᴡɴɪᴇ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛs— Really sweet when you get to know her, loyal till the end, will do anything to make sure someone is safe and happy, protective

♔ ᴇxᴛʀᴀ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ)—Easily annoyed, loves to poke and pester people. Jokes a lot, and pretends to be sexual but really she’s anything but! ( Unless you’re her partner) , where trouble lies so does Rose, can be irritating but eventually you get used to it, outspoken but silent, she tends to observethings from afar unless something sparks her interest. She loves to make deals, can be sly and manipulative at times, Rose pulls off that ‘I may look innocent but I’m not’ face extremely well, and in her school years she was lucky to not get thrown out. Claims to be heartless but had the biggest heart deep down and loves puns but won’t admit that to anyone. Comes off mean and rude but really she’s not, Rose doesn’t always know how to love properly either which was due to her past but she’s attempting to change her ways

Especially when her daughter came into her life, Belle became everything to Rose, her pride and joy and she would do anything to give her everything she deserves.

[itshistoryyall]

Part 1: Blame the Church

Photo Credits: Saul and the Witch of Endor, 1526. Artist: Cornelisz van Oostsanen, Jacob (ca. 1470-1533). Heritage Images/Getty Images / Getty Images

I think it’s always best for any research project to start with the basics, so let’s talk about what our timeline looks like. Beginning in the 14th century we start to see an occasion or two of sentencing for the crime of, or allusions to the crime of, witchcraft. However, we need to look much further back in history to fully recognize how we arrived at the folly of trails and executions for the non-existent crime of witchcraft.[1] This all starts with Christianity, and I know how that sounds, but let’s be clear, the practice of Christianity isn’t to blame here, it’s the interpretation of the believers that are to blame. Allow me to elaborate—The bible has (according to my quick CTRL+F search of the word in the digitized King James Version) eleven brief mentions of the word ‘witch,’ throughout the testaments, and several other mentions of “familiar souls,” sorcery, magic, etc. Fairly few occurrences as far as main subject matters go, and especially when considering the breadth and quantity of material we’re presented with here.

My assumption can only be that believers and those in charge of informing the believers (read: clergymen), were given very little content information to go on as far as witches were concerned, and were therefore forced to really loosely interpret what it meant to be a witch and what to do when one came into contact with, noticed the existence of, or were afflicted by a practitioner of the arts. The earliest mention of sorcery in the Bible is in Leviticus 19:31 where it mentions God not wanting his followers seeking out sorcerers or for them to be “defiled,” by them.[2] One interpretation of this verse in layman’s terms is that one should be careful of partaking in the services of magicians (or those claiming to be such) because it’s likely that they aren’t performing real magic, and there’s a high likelihood of being scammed or, “defiled,” as it were. Without delving too far into the many ways that a 12th or 13th century member of the clergy could have potentially decided what any of this meant for Christ’s followers, I’ll say this, it is very likely that these Old Testament references to magics were used frequently as a means of getting rid of a person or two without too much backlash from the common onlooker. It’s most important to remember that throughout the medieval time period we can see that most of the Christian doctrine was leaning towards a common disbelief in this whole magic or witches business until (and this is History, so you know there’s always an, “until…” ), around the 13th century where we see the development of this idea that a person could collude with the devil or demons in order to obtain certain benefits. The person most likely at fault for this ideological shift is Thomas Aquinas, who is one of the most influential theologians in the history of the Catholic church, and single-handedly changed how Catholic doctrine was interpreted forever. He introduced the idea that God was the only entity that could perform magic, and that those who claimed to be performing magic were, in essence, delusional.

With Aquinas’ work Summa contra Gentiles, he established many of the guidelines that modern Christianity operates upon today such as the idea of a “Just War,” and , and certainly for the next few centuries that will be discussed here in further detail. As we reach the 1200s, we start to see a general inquisition established by the Catholic church. The general purpose of this was to combat overall heresy, and in 1233, the Dominican Inquisition was established as a new branch to perform that sacred duty. At this time things were starting to heat up, not for witches specifically, but for those who were not believers of The Faith™. We start to see at this time, people being asked to convert or leave their countries, an adversely effected Jewish and Moorish population, and at the very essence of this, your store-brand religious intolerance for any country under the thumb of the Catholic church. Following right along with the innumerable blunders that were kindling for this fire, in the early parts of the 1300’s the church moved to disband the Knights Templar at the behest of one King Phillip whose motivations were likely spurred by the massive debt he owed to them from his war with the English. Some say that his order for the arrest of the Templars is where our superstitious legend of Friday the 13th originates. This one took place in 1307. In March of 1314, the Grand Master and Perceptor of the Templar were executed by being burned at the stake. Through the flames, Grand Master Jacques de Molay prophesized that the King and Pope (those responsible for his demise) would soon meet a similar fate, and within the year both had perished.

By the 14th century we also have our first accused sorcerer imprisoned by an inquisitor, and here is where we can finally begin sum up what’s been brewing, if you will, for centuries. Starting with witchcraft’s mention in biblical texts, we have this mass of unknown details about the inferred existence of witches and the practice of magic, but the subject, lacking both quantity of content information and quality of information present, was left to be determined by the scholars of the church and its clergy members. Proceeding without a system in order to check for accuracy, personal motivations, or conflicts of interest, we left these prestigious members of society to be the final word in how we manage all issues that may be open to further interpretation.   It’s nothing new for humans to create an, “us vs. them,” culture and to then persecute those who are not among the “us,” and this topic is no different in its basest interpretation. The part that’s so interesting is the journey from steadfast disbelief in the idea of something that was once so generally accepted, to the unquestionable conquest to rid the earth of that concept and its very existence. Or perhaps, the simple refusal to look the truth in the face was what made this historical oddity so alluring? Either way, the build up to this event was by and large, the fault of the church and its clergy.

[1] That’s not to say here that pagan practices, or the act of practicing Wicca or other similar religious/spiritual practices don’t take place now, or didn’t take place at this point in history. As we get further into this topic you will see that some practices were indeed synonymous with witchcraft for many at the time, and most certainly were contributions to the mass hysteria that surrounded this phenomenon.

[2] See the Bible for the full quote.

[myndopeus]

you give me something to think about (chapter 2)

Read on ao3.

Summary: Trini has no plans for the future, no idea of what she’s going to do after she leaves school. All that’s left is to enjoy the last year she has left.

And oh, what a year it will be.

The Slowburn Hogwarts AU that no one asked for.

Trini barely leaves the dorm for the next two days, preferring to sit moodily in the common room as she attempts to finish her assignments. She makes it to all of her classes, but she hardly pays any attention, her thoughts too caught up in replaying the humiliation of that morning. It’s fine, she desperately tries to tell herself, I’ll just practice somewhere else. Besides, he’s probably forgotten all about it by now. Stupid boy. It feels too forced to be genuine, and her body is tense like it’s stuck in that gut-wrenching moment where Zack swooped up to steal the snitch right from in front of her.

If anyone notices her increased reclusiveness, they don’t mention it. She’s even been skipping meals in the Great Hall, choosing instead to get her food directly from the kitchens. It’s not the first time she’s had an… episode like this, and the house elves are always kind to her. The time when she accidentally mentioned how she found the food “a little flavorless” had been one of the guiltiest moments of her life, as half of the elves had turned their backs while the other half had burst into tears. It was clear that they cared for her though, because after one of her particularly bad nights, she had woken up to a hot plate of tamales on her bedside table. They weren’t perfect, and they certainly tasted nothing like her mother’s cooking, but the gesture was greatly appreciated, and she made sure not to criticize the food anymore.

It’s late morning as she quietly trudges her way up the stairs of the Owl Tower, her footsteps echoing a little too loudly for her liking. She wipes her slightly sweaty palms on her robes, careful not to damage the two letters she is carrying. She smiles a little to herself when she glances at the envelope addressed in playful block script, with little flames doodled in the corners. She loves her brothers, and while they were too young to know that she was a witch, she still sends them vaguely worded letters about school, and how much she misses them. The other envelope is plainly addressed to Papi, and she tries not to look at that one.

When she gets to the top of the stairs, she’s surprised to find Billy there with an owl perched on his arm. His eyes widen slightly when he sees her, but he remains silent as he walks to the window, sending the owl off. Trini awkwardly shifts her weight back and forth as she waits for him to speak.

“Hi Trini!” She’s a bit thrown by the friendly tone in his voice. Rather than being upset, Billy seems quite happy to see her. “How’ve you been?”

It takes her a moment to find her voice. “I’ve been… fine.”

“Good to hear that.” He doesn’t seem to notice the hesitation in her voice. “You know, I was wondering where you’ve been the past two days, because usually you head to the library around half past three or four, but you didn’t show up. I was thinking that maybe you’d gotten tired of me, and like, that’s totally ok if you have, because I know that a lot of people tend to, but it’s still good to see you.” He practically beams at her, and she lets out a breath that she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

“It’s good to see you too, Billy.” She smiles at him, and he claps his hands together softly. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately,” she admits. “I haven’t been feeling that good.”

Billy’s face shifts to one of concern. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is it a stomachache or something? I’m not too good with healing spells, but I can probably think of a few potions that could help.”

“It’s ok, “ she says as she shakes her head. “I’m feeling better now.”

“That’s good to hear.” He notices the envelopes in her hand. “You’re sending a letter too? Which owl is yours?”

She shrugs. “I don’t have one, I usually just use one of the school owls.”

“Ok.” Billy immediately turns away, looking around the tower rapidly before walking towards the wall and coaxing a barn owl from its perch. “This is Patroclus, he’s my favorite and, in my opinion, the most trustworthy. He’s a pretty consistent flyer. Dionysus is faster, but way less trustworthy. Once, the letter he delivered me was over two weeks old. I’m pretty sure he just likes to go off exploring on his own.” He barely looks at her, still stroking the owl gently.

She smiles fondly at her friend as he tells her about the different school owls. He never really stops talking, even as he helps Trini attach the letters and send Patroclus off. They’re walking back down the tower stairs when he falls silent. She turns to him. “You were saying?”

“Huh? Oh.” He gives her an intrigued stare. “You know, usually people stop me when I go off like that, or they stop listening. I’m pretty sure they find me annoying. But you didn’t say anything.”

She stares forward, watching the stairs as pretense for avoiding eye contact. “Well, if someone tells you to shut up, that doesn’t really make them a good friend, does it?”

“Oh, we’re friends? I mean, I thought we were friends, but I wasn’t sure if you thought so too.”

“Well, it’s a pretty good arrangement. I get a choice spot in the library, you have someone who listens, and I don’t have to talk. If things keep going this way, I’m fine with that.” She doesn’t look, but she hears three little claps from behind her, and she smiles softly.

“Since we’re friends,” Billy begins as they enter the grand staircase, “can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Shoot what?”

“Sorry, that’s kind of a muggle thing. I meant, go ahead.”

“Oh, muggle slang! I take muggle studies, and I actually think it’s super interesting, I mean, they have all sorts of contraptions and inventions, the way they see things and view the world is so interesting, and I never even thought about linguistic differences—”

“Uh, Billy? You were gonna ask something?”

“Right, right, yeah. So, since we’re friends, I was wondering if I could ask what’s been bothering you the past few days?”

Just like that, her temporarily good mood is gone, replaced with a mild feeling of illness. “It was just something stupid.” She tries to brush it off, but Billy is looking at her expectantly, and she can’t find the heart to ignore him. She sighs.

“I just… I like to fly in the mornings, sometimes, and I ran into this kid on the pitch, and we kind of got into a showdown over who gets to use the pitch. Anyways, I totally embarrassed myself, he was practically flying circles around me, and I lost, which means I can’t really use the pitch in the mornings.”

He frowns. “Well, why can’t you just share the pitch?”

She hesitates. “I… it’s not that simple. Theoretically, yeah, we could, but I just…” she trails off, not knowing how to explain.

To her immense gratitude, Billy simply nods. “I understand. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Like I said, not that big of a deal.” They continue their walk to the Great Hall in silence. After a few moments, Billy speaks up.

“You know, I’m also pretty well versed in poisons, too. Might come in handy someday.”

She laughs a little at that, her anxiety briefly sidelined. Having a friend isn’t all that bad, she muses.

[LINE BREAK]

Trini loves everything about magic, but if there was any subject that she would consider a blow-off class, it’s Divination. She’s sure that it’s a respectable and powerful art, but when Professor Trelawney is babbling on about death and disaster, her enormous spectacles practically falling off the edge of her nose, Trini has trouble taking anything she says seriously. She’s also pretty sure that the woman barely looks at their work. Once, she’d written that she had a dream that the moon was her significant other, and Professor Trelawney had launched into an immediate praise of Trini’s “innate connection to the cosmic entities”. There was simply no logical explanation as to how she was still teaching.

“Now, my children,” Trelawney’s voice drops into a dramatic whisper, and half the class smother their giggles. “It is time for you to practice reading the cards yourselves. But beware!” She flings out a hand, and the myriad of charms and bobbles adorning her figure sways, producing a sound similar to an out-of-tune wind chime. “The cards are fickle, and the future even more so. To ensure the least amount of danger, and to minimize any personal distress, you MUST NOT do your own readings. I kindly ask that you find a soul whose aura you trust, and commence the 6-card reading.”

Trini groans under her breath. Partner exercises were the worst, and people inevitably tried to engage in small talk. She resigns herself to waiting until the last unpaired stragglers are left, when a large figure suddenly dumps itself in the seat across from her. She has to stop herself from swearing out loud when she sees that it’s none other than Zack Taylor, currently her least-favorite person in the world.

“Hi,” he greets, with an awkward wave of his hand. She pointedly avoids looking at him. “Sooo… uh, want to be partners?”

“Well, it doesn’t look like you’re going to move any time soon,” she says sardonically, “so I guess we’re stuck with each other.”

“Yeah. Cool.” The room fills with the chatter and giggles of the other students doing ‘readings’, but neither of them speaks.

Zack is the one to break the silence. “I have no idea how to do this, so do you want to do mine first? I promise I won’t blame you if my future’s a mess,” he jokes. With an eye-roll and a heavy sigh, she picks up the tarot deck.

As she mindlessly shuffles and lays out the cards, she wonders what Zack could possibly want. He could just be planning on rubbing his victory in her face, but something seems different about him this time. His usual cocky and careless air is significantly reduced, and he seemed almost sheepish when he first approached her. Laying down the final card, Trini decides to just ride it out and see what happens.

There’s a pause as they both look down at the spread. “So uh, what does this mean?”

She looks up at him, a deadpan expression on her face. “You’re gonna die in three days.”

[LINE BREAK]

As the class ends and the students pack their bags, Zack lingers by their table. “Can we talk?”

She regards him for a moment before reluctantly nodding. They follow the steady stream of students down to the Great Hall. Zack takes a deep breath, running his hand through his hair before he speaks.

“You seemed kind of upset after our match on Tuesday, and I figured that was a normal reaction to have, but then you didn’t show up the next day or the day after. Which, I know, was kind of the terms of our deal, but I didn’t think you’d actually listen to me. I don’t know, you just don’t seem like the kind of person who would back down like that. Anyways, I realized that I might have been kinda pushy, and that I might have hurt your feelings, so I wanted to apologize. And also, I didn’t mean it about the pitch times. We can share, or you can have it, I don’t really care. Whatever suits you.” She remains silent through the whole monologue, and it seems to make him nervous.

“So if you don’t actually care about it, then what was the point?” she asks wryly.

He chuckles. “The point? Well, I genuinely am a curious fellow, and you really are a good flyer. I honestly do think that you’re good enough to be on the team. Plus, you seem really cool, so…”

She forces herself to keep her expression blank as she stares him down. His gaze keeps flickering as if he’s not sure which eye to look at, and she swears she can see him start to sweat a little. Finally, she relents.

“Fine. You’re forgiven.” She hears him breathe a sigh of relief. They walk in silence for a bit before Zack pipes up once more.

“So, are you gonna try out?”

“For what?”

“The Quidditch team, duh.”

“Not my kind of thing.”

“Aw, come on.” He steps in front of her, and the force of her look is so sharp that he actually takes a step back (she feels a little proud of that). “You really should. It’s fun, it’s stress relieving, loads of action.” He winks at the double entendre, and she fights the urge to shove him over. “And its our last year, what do you have to lose?”

She makes a face. “I’ve barely ever played Quidditch, I doubt I’d be able to handle myself in a serious match.”

“It’s not that complicated, it’s actually really easy to learn.” She darts around him, and he catches up to her a few steps later. “Alright alright, how about this: the old members of the Gryffindor team are gonna run some drills tomorrow, maybe a practice match if we’re feeling it. Why don’t you come watch, see the pros in action, huh?”

“You’re reaaally not gonna give up, are you?”

“What can I say,” he says, striking a clearly practiced and over exaggerated pose. “I’m an unstoppable force.”

She debates giving an intentionally vague answer and leaving him to figure it out, but the earnestness on his face is almost overwhelming, and she’s pretty sure that he feels genuinely guilty about beating her. While she isn’t a cruel person, she still decides to leave him hanging until they reach the Great Hall.

“Fine,” she relents, and he gives a small whoop. “Now leave me alone, I wanna get lunch.”

“Sure thing, Crazy Girl.” He starts to walk away before turning back. “And I still don’t have your name.”

She smirks as she heads to the Hufflepuff table. “I’ll tell you later.”

[LINE BREAK]

After a Charms class where someone had managed to liquefy half the desks, a Potions class that was just barely averted from an explosive disaster, Trini is looking forward to some peace and quiet in the library as she takes her seat across from Billy and lays out her books in front of her. She inhales deeply, taking in the comforting scent of parchment and leather. 

She’s staring out the window trying to remember how to deal with fire-breathing creatures when the table shakes. She is suddenly very confused when Jason Scott dumps his bag down on the table next to Billy, his face as red as his house crest.

“Sorry,” he whispers to the other boy, out of breath. He turns, making eye contact with her, and a flash of recognition crosses his face. They blink at each other for a moment before Billy’s voice cuts through.

“Jason!” he says far too loudly, earning them a hush from behind one of the bookcases (Trini isn’t sure if it came from a student or a book). Billy ignores it, looking at Jason with a grin. “How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while. How’s Quidditch? Did you get that bowtruckle scratch treated?”

“Good, good, and yes.” Jason hangs his robe on the back of his chair as he sits down. Trini is completely unsure of what is happening or how to react, or why Gryffindor prefect Jason Scott was sitting down with them. “McGonagall and I finally managed to book the pitch for tryouts, and Hagrid said I could come by sometime in the morning to make up the lesson. Speaking of which, how come they never scratch you?” Trini notices a white bandage wrapped around Jason’s hand as he pulls his things out of his bag.

“It’s easy, you’re just not doing it right,” Billy replies, before noticing Trini’s bewildered look. “Oh yeah, Trini, this is Jason Scott, he’s the Gryffindor prefect and captain of the Quidditch team.” Jason sticks his hand out uncertainly.

“Yeah, I know who he is.” She shakes his hand, turning back to Billy. “How do you guys know each other?”

“Oh, Jason and I have been friends since second year,” Billy rambles, turning back to his textbook. “Some kid knocked over my inkwell, which doesn’t sound that bad, but there’s a specific brand of ink I use when I write my assignments, and that was my last bottle at the time and I really needed to finish my Potions essay. Anyways, Jason gave me his, and that’s how we know each other.”

Billy suddenly stops writing. He frowns at the tip of his quill, and looks into his now-empty inkwell with a sigh. Before he can move, a hand places a bottle of ink in front of him. He and Trini look up at Jason’s sheepish face.

“I got permission to go to Hogsmeade to pick up some quidditch equipment,” he says hesitantly. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to get you some more, since you always run out.”

“Thanks Jason!” Billy simply refills his inkwell, unaware of the smile on the other boy’s face. Trini rolls her eyes to herself, ignoring the brief defensiveness and jealousy she feels at Billy talking to someone else. It’s good that he has friends, you should be happy for him.

She turns her attention back to her work, but the environment isn’t quite the same. She’s constantly distracted by Jason whispering questions, and Billy whispering the answers back. A familiar feeling of exclusion begins creeping up her spine.

It’s a change, and not one that she entirely welcomes. For the first time, Billy spends less time on his work and more time answering Jason’s questions. Some of the questions make roll her eyes and wonder how this guy managed to become a prefect, but Billy is a bottomless well of patience and helpfulness. She tries not to feel bitter every time her friend redirects his focus to help Jason, but seeing the two boys interact like she isn’t there starts to make her feel small. She toughs it out for another half hour before mumbling something about meeting someone and heading back to the common room. Billy still waves goodbye to her when she leaves the table though, and that makes her feel a little less insecure.

[LINE BREAK]

“Well, well, well. Looks like you decided to show up after all.”

Trini is heading up the path to the quidditch pitch when she hears the (unfortunately) familiar voice and rhythmic crunching of gravel coming up behind her. She sighs, mentally preparing herself to deal with the oncoming annoyance.

Zack jogs up next to her, clad in a Gryffindor jersey almost as rumpled as his hair, complete with black fingerless leather gloves. His black broomstick is slung over his shoulder, and that irritatingly cocky expression is back on his face.

“What’s with all the black? I thought you were heading to practice, not a funeral. What are you, twelve?”

“Hey! Just because black isn’t a house color doesn’t mean it isn’t cool.”

“Whatever.”

“You ready to be blown off your feet by our amazing quidditch skills?” She gives him an unimpressed stare.

“As if,” she retorts, sticking a foot out and tripping his stride slightly. “I’m just hoping that one of your teammates will knock your ass off your broom with a bludger.”

He shakes his head, and Trini staggers a little when he flings his arm around her shoulders, putting some weight down. “Oh, ye of little faith. Just you wait.”

“Get off,” she grunts, elbowing him in the ribs. It just makes him laugh, but he lets go of her, and she shoots him another death stare that makes his eyes widen with mild fear.

In the distance they see two more figures, one in a jersey and one in school robes. As they draw closer, Trini sees that it’s Jason and Billy, the former of whom seems to be anxiously rambling, complete with nervous hand gestures. 

“Yo!” Zack yells without warning, sprinting forward and leaping onto Jason’s back with a thud. Billy simply watches, but his face breaks into a smile when he sees Trini, and he waves.

“Hey,” he says as she catches up with them, the two Gryffindors still locked in a strange wrestling match. “What are you doing here?”

“I said I didn’t know much about quidditch, so Zack said I could come watch the practice for a bit.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Billy nods thoughtfully. “Jason was just telling me how they don’t have a full team, so it’s not going to be the most exciting practice. He has some pretty interesting exercises planned, though. I’m interested to see how they turn out.”

She raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Do you play quidditch too, Billy?”

“No, I don’t really have the time. Besides, I don’t like rain.” Trini blinks at the out-of-place statement, but she doesn’t think much of it.

Zack and Jason disentangle themselves at some point on the walk over, choosing instead to talk about tactics and the other house teams. Billy tugs on Trini’s sleeve and points towards a wooden staircase.

“We go that way for the stands.” He waves at the other boys as they part ways. “Bye Jason, bye Zack.”

“Billy, Trini.”

Zack suddenly spins, a wild look of glee on his face. “What did you just say her name was?”

“Aaaand that’s our cue.” Trini grabs Billy’s arm and starts power walking towards the stands. She hears him mumble something along the lines of “let go”, and she releases his arm immediately, giving him an apologetic look. As they ascend, she can dimly hear Zack’s voice hassling Jason.

“No no, what was it? Cici? DeeDee? Come on man…”

She’s been to very few Quidditch matches, and she always forgets just how high up the stands are. Even with the enchantments shortening the climb, she’s still mildly out of breath when they reach the top, and Billy leads her to the seats near where the Gryffindors are practicing.

“So do you watch Jason’s practices often?” she asks, stretching her legs out and propping them on the barrier at the edge of the stands. She spots Zack’s familiar form zooming about haphazardly on his broom, his loud voice echoing behind him. Jason is hovering near the goalposts, shouting directions to the rest of the team.

“Somewhat.” Billy’s eyes seem unusually focused as he stares out. “He asks me to review how his plays look, whether they make sense. It’s always good to have a second opinion, you know?”

They watch the team execute drills, and Billy scribbles some notes on a parchment. Every so often Trini will ask a question about the purpose of a formation, or what a move is called, and Billy will occasionally give his commentary out loud, less for Trini’s benefit and more for his own clarity of thought. As interesting as it is watching them fly, Trini begins to grow a little impatient waiting for something to happen.

Soon enough, Jason flies down and bends over to open a heavy chest. A few seconds later, Trini sees two bludgers fly out, and Jason rises back in the air holding the quaffle. He tosses it to Zack, who heads down to the other side of the pitch.

“Wait, Zack isn’t a seeker?” Her heart sinks a little further, as she remembers how quickly he grabbed the snitch. If she can’t even outpace a chaser, there was no point in even trying for the team.

“Not anymore, he isn’t.” Billy gives her a reassuring smile. “Don’t feel bad about losing to him. Zack is one of the best flyers on the team, and he was a seeker for two years.”

“What happened?”

“Puberty.” There’s a beat, and then she bursts out cackling, and Billy cracks and joins her. Their noise draws some peculiar stares, and Zack’s confused face only makes them laugh harder.

“No, no actually,” Billy gasps, Trini wiping tears from her eyes. “The guy is massive now, but he was absolutely tiny when he was thirteen. I swear, if he turned sideways, he would have disappeared.” The image is so ridiculous that it sends Trini into another wheezing fit.

“Please tell me he had the same hair.”

“Yes, but it was a lot less stylish back then.”

She takes a few deep breaths, tilting her head back towards the sky. She realizes that it’s been a while since she laughed that hard, much less with a friend. She turns and gives Billy a smile.

“Thanks, Billy.”

He gives her a confused smile in return. “You’re welcome? I didn’t do anything.” She just keeps smiling and turns back to watch.

[LINE BREAK]

As she gets more and more used to following the plays, she can’t help but agree with Zack; Quidditch was one hell of an exciting sport, and there were only five players on the field. Her eyes widen when she tries to picture what fourteen would look like.

And now that she has the opportunity to actually watch him, she can’t deny that Zack has earned her respect. His flying style might look out of control, but that was just because he had the skill and the guts to pull off all sorts of crazy moves that no one could possibly predict. She lets out a whistle as dodges a bludger with only half a barrel roll, his momentum barely decreasing as he flies upside down.

Trini feels herself leaning forward as Zack draws closer to the goalposts, Jason watching him with a calm focus. Suddenly, Zack tilts to the side, entering a corkscrew, and Trini actually gasps out loud when he lets go of the quaffle to take the shot mid-spin.

The trajectory is off, and Jason barely has to move to bat it out of the way. She hears Billy’s little claps off to the side, as he starts commentating. “Wow, I think Zack’s speed was off, and he definitely overrotated during the shot, but it was pretty accurate for a first try. Jason’s block was incredible though, I mean, the timing was perfect even if the shot wasn’t going to make it in, if it had been on target then he would have been perfectly positioned to defend…”

As Trini watches Jason high-five Zack, she notices that she and Billy aren’t the only spectators there. A female figure is sitting on the other side of the stands, clapping gently. Jason gives her a nod as he flies past. Trini can just barely make out the green trim on her robes, and she makes a noise of disgust.

“What’s she doing here?”

“Who?” She subtly points Billy across the stands, and he squints.

“Her. Kimberly Hart. What business does she have being here?”

Billy shrugs, turning back down to review his notes. “I suppose Jason invited her,” he says with an air of nonchalance. Trini side-eyes him.

“And why would our dear Jason ask the Queen Bee herself to grace us with her presence?”

Billy frowns. “Uh, I… don’t really understand what you mean by that. I mean, she’s just here, I guess.”

Trini notices that Kimberly is watching Jason. Intently. She narrows her eyes in suspicion.

“What’s the connection between them?”

“Oh yeah, Kimberly is Jason’s ex. Ex-girlfriend, I mean. They used to date,” Billy explains.

Trini snorts. “Wow, who would have guessed,” she comments drily.

“Quite a lot of people, actually. It was a big thing in fifth year, but they broke up, of course. They’re still good friends, though.”

“I bet they are,” she mutters, observing the other girl. Kimberly’s gaze is fixed completely on Jason, and she barely even notices the other players.

“Why don’t you like Kimberly?” She starts slightly, blinking to clear her head. Billy is looking at her with a curious expression, and Trini hesitates, wondering how little she could get away with saying in lieu of an answer.

“I’ve just… never gotten along with popular kids.” She frowns, turning her attention back to the pitch. “They never like me, so I don’t see why I should like them. Plus, popularity tends to get to peoples’ heads. They start thinking they’re better than everyone else, just because they’re on a team or they’ve got a pretty face or whatever. Sometimes they need a little bit of humility knocked into them.”

“And that applies to all popular kids?”

“Yup. Every one of them.”

Billy looks towards the goalposts. “But Jason is a pretty popular guy, and you’re nice to him. Well, not exactly nice, but you aren’t mean to him.”

She scoffs. “I’m only nice to Jason because he’s nice to you.” Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Billy smile and look down at his feet for a second.

There’s a thunderous crack, followed by the unmistakable thud of an impact and a pained groan. She searches for the sound and her eyes light upon Zack, clutching his stomach with a pained look on his face as a bludger whizzes off. The player next to him is doubled over laughing his ass off.

Trini stands on the bench and claps as loudly as possible. “Bravo! Bravo!” she yells, and the beater makes a mock bow towards the stands. Zack flips her the finger before flying back into formation.

For some reason, her eyes are drawn back to where Kimberly is seated, and the other girl is staring straight at her, an amused look on her face. Trini freezes momentarily, gritting her teeth at the other girl’s obvious condescension, before pointedly looking away and gathering her things.

“Leaving so soon?” Billy notes.

She tugs her beanie further down as a gust of wind blows through. “Yeah, it’s getting kind of chilly, and I still have some spell practice to do before classes tomorrow. I’ll see you later in the library,” she says as she waves.

She can already feel the headache creeping in, aggravated by the harsh jolt of the stairs. She rubs her temple, squeezing her eyes tight as if that would make the pain go away. As she steps onto the path, she’s suddenly confronted by green robes and a pair of dark, calculating eyes.

 They stand in silence as Trini sizes up the girl before her. Kimberly is the model Slytherin, exuding an air of cool collectedness that was practically tangible. Her eyebrows always seem to be half-quirked, as if she didn’t think anything was worth her time. Trini’s fist tightens around the strap of her bag and she straightens, suddenly hyper aware of the height difference between them.

“I’ve never seen you around here before.” Kimberly’s voice is not at all as slippery and heavy as Trini expected. It’s actually quite smooth and soothing, almost hypnotizing in the way it travels through the air. It comes to her awareness that Kimberly doesn’t remember their brief encounter earlier in the week. She has to mentally shake herself back into focus as the girl continues to speak.

“Billy usually sits alone, so I was quite surprised to see that he brought someone with him.” There’s only a slight pause after Kimberly finishes speaking, but it’s enough to make it seem as if she was giving Trini permission to answer. She seethes quietly.

“Life is full of surprises, Hart. Doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Finished creeping on Jason and decided to go bully some other hapless target?” She notices that Kimberly’s forehead crinkles ever so slightly, and she silently high-fives herself in her head.

“I don’t ‘creep’. Unlike some people, I happen to have a little dignity.” Trini’s eyes narrow and she juts out her chin. “Also, Billy isn’t a hapless target. He’s more than capable of looking out for himself.”

The surprise on her face is painfully evident, from the way that Kimberly smiles and crosses her arms. “Why the face? Like you said, life is full of surprises. Or maybe,” Kimberly takes a step forward. “Maybe, you’re just jealous that he has more friends than just you.” With a final smirk, she sweeps past, leaving Trini positively seething in her wake.

As she stomps her way to the Hufflepuff Common Room, she makes a decision. She’s going to try out for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, and they’re going to win the Quidditch cup and wipe that smirk off of Kimberly Hart’s face for good. Filled with resolve, she triumphantly claims one of the armchairs near the fire, and promptly deflates when she opens her textbook.

That’s if I can survive Defence Against the Dark Arts, she groans internally.

[anongoingsoliloquy]

  In the production of Macbeth, directed by Eve Best (which was originally performed in 2013 at the Globe Theatre, but was filmed and shown in theatres in 2015), the three weird sisters are first portrayed as common prostitutes. By the costuming and mannerisms of the actresses, it is easy to see that these “witches” are different than many other adaptations. The sexual jokes in the opening scene with the sisters sets the tone for the remainder of the play, influencing the performances of the actors portraying Macbeth (Joseph Millson) and Lady Macbeth (Samantha Spiro). By portraying the witches in Macbeth as prostitutes, it creates a layer of sexual subtext that influences the characters of both Macbeth and Lady Macbeth, which brings them into the demonic underworld of the supernatural.

  It would seem that Best’s idea to show the three witches of Shakespeare’s Macbeth as prostitutes, is not an original one. The witches were “also imagined as [prostitutes] in many pamphlets” that were distributed in the Globe during Shakespeare’s career, marrying “the witch’s transgressions with the circumstances of lewd sexuality” (Friesen 127). The implications of the sexual nature of the witches has deep roots in the play text that are not easily seen or fully explored in Best’s adaptation. Traditionally, witches were thought to exact “revenge for refused charity by causing illness and domestic ruin”, but in Shakespeare’s play, the First Witch “demands a sexual retribution from the sailor whose wife refused to provide” (Friesen 128). In 1.3.19, the First Witch says, “I’ll drain him dry as hay”, which casts her in “the part of a succubus” (Friesen 128). It is believed that the idea of the witches as demons and engaging “in sex with demons, with one another, and with ordinary persons of both sexes dates at least to Augustine’s writing”, although it was Thomas Aquinas who “delineated a process of malefic reproduction” (Friesen 128). This process includes a demon first transforming into a female shape (becoming a succubus), so it can seduce a mortal man and steal his semen. The demon then takes the shape of a male (an incubus), who would then engage in sexual relations with a woman, often a witch (Friesen 128). This reading of the Witches “may demonstrate Shakespeare’s broad knowledge of the subject [of demonology], but it also suggests the amount of information concerning witchcraft that circulated at the time” (Friesen 125). It is debated whether or not this fascination with witchcraft is based in the historical legal prosecutions or it was part of the topical knowledge that the audience found entertaining. The popularity “of witchcraft and diabolic magic […] resonates with audiences by asserting the universal nature of sin and the hunger for power – themes that are contradicted if the […] protagonist’s fate is blamed more on his occult prowess than on his decisions to deceive, exploit, and murder his cohorts” (Friesen 122). So although Macbeth is lured in by the weird sisters, he is still presented as fully responsible for the bloodshed that takes place in the play. It is also “difficult to determine whether [the Witches] reflect Macbeth’s own perversity back to him, reinforcing and enabling his desire to transgress in the process, or whether they direct him towards sins that he would have otherwise not have perused, making them the agents of a damnation into which Macbeth must be lured” (Friesen 123).  

  Eve Best’s production of Macbeth seems to take a stand on this debate, portraying Macbeth as a character who must be lured into transgression. This is starkly shown when Joseph Millson’s Macbeth falls into a fit of laughter after hearing the Witches’ prophecies. In his review of the play, Simon Edge states that this “is one of the smartest moments” of the play. Because the weird sisters are not “nearly so weird or unnerving as [...] on other occasions”, it works better in showing Macbeth’s downfall (Brown). In his review, Peter Brown describes Millson’s Macbeth as “striking and imposing […], slender and tall with black hair and a black beard, which lends a darker note to the character, he is totally convincing as a fighting man, especially as he has two lethal-looking axes dangling from his belt. Violence seems ingrained in his nature”. Despite this, Millson’s Macbeth is presented as a good option for the role of King. He plays Macbeth as “dashing” and “more sure-footed than usual these days with the verse and with plenty of moody fire and fierceness” (Craven). It is not until Macbeth is coupled with Lady Macbeth and they begin to conspire together to kill King Duncan, that it is seen that Macbeth is “a man with more than a glimmer of the manic about him, or that he is at the very least psychologically fragile” (Brown).

  The sexuality of the Witches effects the portrayal of Macbeth in the Globe production as well. Millson’s Macbeth “has plenty of dash and energy, a constant, rather starry suggestion of sex” throughout the entire play (Craven). Millson’s presence on stage is commanding. There is no doubt that he is the central character when he firsts steps out on stage. The idea of Millson’s Macbeth being a constant suggestion of sex is seen in his constant movement around the stage, and always having a layer of perspiration on his face from this exertion. By connecting Macbeth so closely with the sexuality of the Witches, it suggests that the “sisters appeal to Macbeth through the same sin and avarice by which hell might have seduced them” (Friesen 123). The power of the Witches, is not however to force lewd sexual practices on mortals, but to create chaos and discord to over throw the norms of the “community, church, and cosmos”, and in Macbeth, this is exactly what happens; the audience is presented with “a corrupt, diseased landscape brought about when Macbeth’s healthy human reason is confronted and overwhelmed by the seduction of unreal, superhuman agency” (Friesen 123). If the folklore of witches is to be followed in the reading of Macbeth, the witches would have been seduced into performing evil deeds by demonic energy because of their greed for wealth and empowerment, the same reasons that Macbeth is so easily manipulated by them (Friesen 129). Despite the fact that Best’s adaptation positions Macbeth as someone who has to be pulled into the evil deeds he commits, the Witches “cannot force him to do it” (Farnham 61). It is clear that the Witches reveal Macbeth’s fate, but what is often overlooked is that they never make mention of evil-doing or bloodshed, nor do they blind him to evil (Farnham 61).  Nor do they, or their masters predict that Macbeth will have Macduff’s children, wife, and servants murdered (Farnham 62). This trickster speech forces Macbeth to “assume full moral responsibility” (Farnham 61). In the play text, Shakespeare does not “allow the reality of the witches to remain in doubt”, but in Best’s adaptation, the Witches are not shown to be supernatural creatures until Macbeth begins to go mad (Friesen 125). The further Macbeth falls into madness, the deeper the audience is pulled into his mind, until the Witches (or prostitutes) become twisted and demonic, covered in dirt and ash. This is similar costuming to how Lady Macbeth is dressed at the end of the play.

   In the review by Peter Brown, he calls Samantha Spiro’s Lady Macbeth “impassioned” and someone who truly “begs the spirits to ‘unsex’ her so she can do the necessaries in dispatching the King”. He also comments on that “in spite of her fervent desire to acquire the top job for her husband, Ms. Spiro also demonstrates a more humorous side” of the character (Brown). This humour reflects the “form of [the Witches] bodies and the bawdiness of their humour” (Friesen 122). The character of Lady Macbeth is just as connected to the Witches as her husband is. When we first see the two Macbeth’s together in the play, Spiro’s character throws herself into the arms of Millson’s Macbeth and kisses him fervently. This aligns with the sexuality that the Witches first bring into the performance. Lady Macbeth is strongly connected to the Weird Sisters, just as Macbeth is, but in a slightly different way. Instead of becoming a sexual creature because of association with the whore-like witches, Lady Macbeth becomes a witch herself. Not only are witches thought of as bisexual based on witch folklore, but in the play text, they seem to have gender ambiguity. This is depicted through the line, “You should be women, / And yet your beards forbid me to interpret / That you are so” (1.3.47-9). This is also seen in the folklore of sex demons. They are able to switch between male and female genders. Lady Macbeth represents this in the play by her “desire to be unsexed and sterilized” (Friesen 129). There is an odd “dichotomy of fruitfulness and infertility” connected to the Macbeths (Friesen 129). They, as a couple, are rendered sterile as opposed to Duncan and Banquo, who are physical representations of “healthy offspring and hereditary rule” (Friesen 129). It is odd because by taking on the role of the succubus, who were said to “exploit and abuse their victims, Lady Macbeth also assumes an infernal role as corrupter of nature and facilitator of monstrous birth – and in this case, the offspring of her unholy transformation in regicide, committed by a husband aroused to it ‘as to an act of ghastly love’” (Friesen 129).

  In this adaptation with sexually charged characters, Lady Macbeth is depicted as both barren and fertile. Lady Macbeth “articulates the theme of restricted potency by imagining murder as an ‘unnatural or nonhuman, sexual act’ when she presents these ‘horrifying violent images of a depraved rejection of womanly ties” (Friesen 129). This also plays into the idea of the Macbeths having lost a child. There is a subtle indication of this in Best’s production, when “Millson’s Macbeth momentarily strokes the face of the boyish offsider – played by the same actor […] who plays Fleance and Macduff’s son” (Craven). Later in the play, Lady Macbeth says herself that she has “given suck, and know[s] / How tender ‘tis to love the babe that milks [her]” (1.7.61-2). In 4.1, Best’s production does not show the apparitions that the witches conjure, rather they are depicted as figments of Macbeth’s imagination. The second apparition, which is said to be a bloody child in the play text, plays into the psychological effects of losing a child.

  It is ironic that Lady Macbeth should request the “darkness to hide the wounds made by her blades”, when it is in the dark of the night that she is most clearly seen as a witch-like figure (Friesen 131). In the Globe production, when Lady Macbeth comes back out onto the stage for her mad scene in Act 5, she comes out in the same costume that the Witches wore in the first Act. Throughout the play, Spiro’s Lady Macbeth has very long black hair, but in the mad scene, her hair is cut very short. She is also dirty and bruised, much like the Witches were to Macbeth’s mind in Act 4. Although she is not covered in the blood that prompts her to ask, “will these hands ne’er bee clean”, she is battered, dirty and bruised which would indicate domestic violence or self-harm. This also raises the question of whether or not the change of appearance of the witches, is the physical manifestation of the guilt that Macbeth feels for abusing him wife. Lady Macbeth is shown as someone who has given “herself up to the Devil, in a scene of nightmarish obscenity, before the spectators’ very eyes’ and who is punished for her malefic conduct as the sisters never are” (Friesen 126).  

  By portraying the three Weird Sisters as prostitutes not only brings in an added supernatural element to Macbeth, but it also forces the Macbeths to be fully morally responsible for their actions in the play. This is shown very clearly in Eve Best’s production of Macbeth from the Globe Theatre. Not only does this factor influence the other characters in the play, the sexual connotations of the opening Act brings in elements of demonic energy and infant death. The sexual energy of Best’s adaptation brings out chaotic and psychological characteristics of both Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. It is this revelation that “ultimately makes this play a thing of tears, not just blood” (Craven).