#Real witch spells that actually work

[izzyspussy]

why are they laughing at him as he gets straight up killed??? he doesn't deserve this! he's a sweet kid at heart! he literally just needs one (1) real friend!!

[stormsthatrage]

Imagine: Samantha Manson rents an apartment with other students in university because she wants to pay her own way through college. One night, the other students throw a party. Sam takes refuge in the campus library during this, because she does not want to be around that. But eventually the library closes for the night, and Sam has to go back.

Sam walks in on the partygoers, still there, hanging out around a "summoning ritual" for fun. They're cleaning up -- the ritual didn't work, obviously.

Sam wordlessly halts the clean-up efforts in their tracks by taking one look at the summoning circle, seizing a paintbrush, bodying people out of the way, and making a dozen minor adjustments to the summoning circle.

It's Sam. No one stops her, and no one is brave enough to ask any questions.

Sam finishes, then walks off without saying anything.

The partygoers look at each other, and then immediately try the summoning ritual again.

(Look, Sam has a reputation as a goth and, if you believe in that stuff, as a witch. Not to say that any of them actually believe in that stuff, but sometimes it's fun to pretend like you do, and, well. They already decided to give it their best shot tonight, and they know that a Sam-approved summoning circle is the best shot they'll get.)

They read out the spell. The candles flare, the flame turning a dark, poisonous green, then blow out. A surge of black light shoots up from the summoning circle, and a presence thickens the air around them.

Before them appears a being that they know, in their soul, is not of this world.

A creature of the realm of the dead looms before them, crown ablaze with fury. "Who dares--"

Sam, nonchalant, wanders back into the room. Wanders over to the summoning circle. Casually erases, with the tip of her shoe, what they know from their brief study of their occult book to be the containment layer of the summoning circle.

Casually says, "Hey, Danny, what pizza toppings do you want?"

The presence fades, but does not vanish completely. "Oh, come on Sam," says the being that an animal part of them recognizes as of the realm of the dead. "What the hell, you know I hate that."

Sam wanders back out of the room, calling over her shoulder, "Well, I hate having my thermos broken!"

The being floats out of the summoning circle, and takes on the shape of a boy, touching down to the ground. The presence fades even further, until they wouldn't be able to tell the creature wasn't a boy if they hadn't already seen.

"Okay, first of all, that was at least 50% Tucker's fault--" it says, trailing after Sam. The conversation becomes unintelligible as they go to Sam's room and shut the door.

The partygoers are left in silence, with paint that has been turned to ash, brand-new candles that have been burned to stubs, and a terrifying new knowledge of the existence of the beyond.

And, for the unluckiest of them, terrifying new knowledge that the person they share a roof with has regular, real, dealings with the dead.

(Twenty minutes later, the pizza arrives. With a pineapple topping, of course.)

[thedevilsrepairkit]

Eleven year old me learnt more from tumble and Pinterest witch craft tips than any of these books and guides

[ultravi0lence14]

Witchy Woo

sam winchester x witchfem!reader

2k | fluff, slight angst

summary: calling on their witch friend to help with a case, sam might get a lot more than he bargained for when he fears she’s gotten hurt.

warnings: choking, moderate level of violence

your relationship with the winchesters had started rocky, to say it lightly.

you were a witch, born in a long lineage of wiccan’s who used their powers for evil, subsequently getting killed by hunters in the process. you, on the other hand, weren’t like that. your mom tried to get you to see the family craft, to see what your legacy was, but you just couldn’t.

there was already enough bad in the world, why be one of the people enabling it when you could help do good and get rid of it?

at first, the winchesters didn’t see that so easily. they were raised on the pretences that if something was of supernatural being, then you kill it. so when they showed up in your home town investigating a case, you were the first suspect on their list.

the two men came barging into your home, spewing non sense about how you were hexing town residents and that they had the bullets to end your magical killing spree. you were confused, as you would never kill people and actually were great friends with some of victims found dead by a witches hand.

after semi convincing them that you were good, you helped the winchester boys track down the real culprit — with a lot of grumbling from dean in the process. turns out, it was valerie edmonds. the middle aged divorcee who lived down the street from your house. if you were being honest, you were quite surprised she was a witch, for she never gave you that vibe in the slightest.

since then, the winchester’s have called you if they needed a specific type of magical help on a case. it took a lot of time and work for them to fully grasp that you meant no harm. but when it stuck, you were practically apart of the team.

now, as you drove into the parking lot of some dingy motel, trying to spot out the winchester’s room number, you think back onto how you guys met. how everything that has happened since then has felt so surreal to you.

you helped people in your town, but never on a bigger scale like sam and dean did. it felt nice, finally being able to feel like you are really making a difference in the world.

barley lifting your hand from knocking on the wooden door, the hinges creaked as non other than dean winchester swung it open, giving you a tight lipped smile as he let you into the motel room. sam was sat at a small wooden table, hunched over with his eyes glued to his computer screen, reading some article he found on this cases lore.

you were slightly new to what a hunter’s day to day life was, for you had only met the winchester boys shy of a year ago. you’d assume, the half eaten pizza boxes and multiple beer bottles littered on the floor was an accustom to the lifestyle

those weren’t your only thoughts as you stepped through the threshold. your eyes couldn’t help but latch onto sam’s hunched figure, face drawn into concentration as he searched and searched for anything on this vengeful spirit they were after.

ever since you had gotten slightly acquainted with the two, you couldn’t help but harbour a slight crush towards the younger of the brothers. he was so soft spoken, sweet in how he treated victims families or anyone in general. how could you not fall in love with him?

the bed springs squeaked as you sat on mattress, dean moving to sit at the table with sam. as you sat your bag beside you, dean broke the somewhat awkward silence in the room. “let’s just cut to the chase already. Y/N, we need your witchy ass for this case.” sam finally looked up from his computer, turning your way and smiling at your form, making a light blush dust your cheeks as you smiled back.

“what do you need help with? is there any spell or ingredients i need to look for?” the look on dean’s face was juxtaposing what you expected his reaction to be. he looked almost guilty, like what he was about to say was not going to be something you’d like.

scratching the back of his neck, dean opened up about what plan he had already devised. “well, it looks like the spirit we are hunting is going after witches. so i thought that maybe you, i don’t know, lure it out?” your face was passive, not really knowing what to think. dean didn’t specify what you would be doing this certain hunt. but to his knowledge, you could easily hold yourself against an angry ghost, so you were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

sam, on the other hand, was not having a second of what his brother was suggesting.

“no,” he stated, shutting his laptop almost to make a point. “absolutely not. we are not putting her in danger.” his eyes kept glancing back to you, almost as if the mere mention of you luring out the ghost was getting you killed.

standing from the bed, you walked over to sam and put your hand on his shoulder, getting him to turn his head and stare up at you with the widest eyes you’ve ever seen. if you were being honest, you almost gave in and agreed with sam right then and there.

but you held your ground, smiling at him as dean looked incredulously between you two. “sam,” you started. “i will be fine. i have handled worse, and you and dean will be there if something goes wrong.” this made him relax slightly, looking over to his brother before grabbing your hand on his shoulder and squeezing it.

“that’s settled.” said dean, getting up from the chair and moving towards his duffle bag. “we leave for the club this ghost hunts at in fifteen.”

walking towards your bag, you turned to dean with your hands on shoulders. “one thing though. you two aren’t putting me in some shitty ideal of what clothes witches wear. got it?”

“i can’t believe we agreed to let you wear those poser clothes.” dean grumbled, in the drivers seat of baby as you got ready to go into the bar. “this ghost will never believe your a witch in that.” his comment made you laugh, stopping halfway out the car as you turned your body to look at him. “are you forgetting dean that i am the only witch here? i think i would know what the supposed attire is.”

dean huffed as you got out of the impala, giving yourself a once over in your mid length, cloth dress. waving goodbye to the boys as your brown boots shuffled against the gravel of the parking lot. the white of your dress reflecting the sun as sam watched the bar door shut behind you.

he was worried, to put it lightly. he knew you could handle yourself but he never liked you putting yourself in imminent danger. his thoughts were stopped as he looked over to dean, who was giving sam a certain look that had the younger winchester reeling back in confusion.

sighing to himself, dean leaned his arm on the window and looked over at his brother. “dude, she’ll be fine. you are just worried cause you’ve got a fat crush on her.” the shock in sam’s face was enough to make dean laugh, putting the car in drive so that him and sam could go and find the cemetery where the spirit was buried.

“i do not have a crush on her!” sam sounded so exasperated, that an actual bark of laughter left dean. making the older winchester shake his head as he turned out of the parking lot. “whatever you say, sammy.”

on your end of things, you had sat yourself at the bar top, remembering how sam said that the ghost usually strikes after the victim had a couple of drinks in their system. you didn’t want to drink too much, for being tipsy wouldn’t help with stopping the ghost. so you resulted to one margarita, nursing a cup of coke for the rest of the night.

when you got a text from dean on the go ahead, you got up from the stool, paying your tab as you inconspicuously made your way to the alley behind the bar, pacing back and forth as you waited for the ghost to appear.

as you started losing hope in this plan, a force from behind you grabbed your arm and threw you into the nearest wall. groaning on the impact, you looked up to see a ghastly looking woman, ripped dress blowing behind her as she snarled in your direction.

she disappeared to then only reappear right in front of you, grabbing your neck and lifting you against the wall. you struggled to breathe as you waited for the boys to burn her bones. but that didn’t come as fast as you hoped. you were starting to lose consciousness, scratching at the ghosts arms and wishing you brought some iron with you.

a futile attempt to mumble out a spell was crushed as the ghost squeezed tighter, cutting off your airways and making it almost impossible for you to speak.

with your last shreds of consciousness dangling in your hands, you heard a loud shriek as the ghost let go of you, dropping you to the ground and erupting in flames, disappearing forever.

swallowing in deep gasps of air, you got up from the ground and steadied yourself against the wall. slowly walking to where the parking lot was and waiting on the side of the road for dean and sam to pull up in the impala.

when you heard the faint rumble of the comforting car, you looked up to see sam jump out of the passenger seat before dean could even throw it into park. the younger winchester ran over to you, grabbing your arms and inspecting his eyes up and down your frame, making sure you were okay.

“sam, i’m fine.” you laughed as he worriedly brushed some mud off the front of your dress. that only caused him to look up and gasp slightly, bringing his hands to the side of your neck as he turned your head back and forth.

“oh baby, your neck. it’s all bruised.” you hadn’t even looked at the aftermath of the ghosts firm grip on your neck, now not wanting to as the sorrow in sam’s eyes from the mere sight of it made your heart drop.

all you could do was shake your head, holding onto sam’s forearms with your own hands. “i’m fine, sammy. i’m alive, the ghost is gone.” but that didn’t seem to sooth his freaked expression, only being able to hear his quick inhales of breath and the wind blowing around you.

gulping in some air, sam shook his head, speaking his next words in one breath. “i was so scared, i can’t lose you.” sam had barley finished his sentence before his lips crushed to yours, moving his one hand to cup your face and the other to wrap around your waist.

you gasped into his mouth, hands going to the back of his head to grab onto the tuffs of hair at the back of his neck. he was pulling you impossibly closer, almost as if he could mold your body’s together and never let you go.

pulling away, your hands went to the front of his brown carharrt jacket, looking into his eyes with such intensity that a normal person would be inclined to look away. but not sam, he could stare into your eyes forever.

breathing in deeply, sam leaned his face closer to yours. “i told myself if you were okay that i wouldn’t wait anymore. i can’t go another day without being with you, i just can’t.” his words sent tears to your eyes, reaching up so you could properly hug him.

his arms went around your waist, and everything just felt better. sam was yours, and you were his, and everything just felt like it should be. as sam pulled away, he planted a firm kiss on your cheek, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the impala. “cmon, my love, dean’s probably getting impatient.”

watching the two of you walk hand in hand, dean just chuckled to himself, turning so he could throw the car out of park. “fucking finally.”

**can’t lie, i wrote most of this either in class or munching on a rice bowl

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Harry Potter is Really Magically Powerful

So, in continuation to this post, and my desire to show some love to Harry James Potter, this post is dedicated to showing how magically powerful Harry actually is in the books — which is insanely powerful. Harry doesn't think of himself as a great wizard, but he is — definitely powerful enough to be Voldemort's equal (and Dumbledore's for that matter).

Under the cut are some quotes from the books that prove this.

Accidental Magic

Let's start with Harry's childhood accidental magic. Tom was considered prodigious for being able to steal things with magic and make animals obey him intentionally. Neville, as a late bloomer, bounced when thrown, which is the bare minimum of childhood accidental magic young witches and wizards should be doing.

Now he came to think about it…every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Harry, had been upset or angry…chased by Dudley’s gang, he had somehow found himself out of their reach…dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, he’d managed to make it grow back…and the very last time Dudley had hit him, hadn’t he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it? Hadn’t he set a boa constrictor on him?

(Philosopher's Stone, page 44)

Harry has:

Apparated out of Dudley's reach when in danger to get away - advanced magic only allowed to practice from the age of 16!

Growing back all his hair from not liking the bad haircut.

Disappearing the glass of the Boa Constrictor case and leashing it

not even when he’d had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that he’d somehow turned his teacher’s wig blue.

(Philosopher's Stone, page 84)

4. Turning his teacher's hair blue.

We see Harry is capable of aparation, transfiguration, and various charms at a level that is considered prodigious. Harry was incredibly advanced as a child according to his feats of magic before even knowing magic was real. And while he wasn't as intentional as Tom, he was aware enough to know odd things happened when he was "furious or upset" that the odd things responded to him.

Intuitive Casting

I wrote later in this post about this, but I do want to write a whole essay about how magic works in the Wizarding world, but like, really in short, emotion and intention matter in magic. A lot.

And we see Harry make use of this fact to great effect. Using spells with intention to change the way they behave and they work for him because of how magically prodigious he is.

Harry raised his own wand. “Protego!” Snape staggered; his wand flew upward, away from Harry — and suddenly Harry’s mind was teeming with memories that were not his — a hook-nosed man was shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner. . . . A greasy-haired teenager sat alone in a dark bedroom, pointing his wand at the ceiling, shooting down flies. . . . A girl was laughing as a scrawny boy tried to mount a bucking broomstick — “ENOUGH!” Harry felt as though he had been pushed hard in the chest; he took several staggering steps backward, hit some of the shelves covering Snape’s walls and heard something crack. Snape was shaking slightly, very white in the face.

(Order of the Phoenix, page 591)

This is from the last of Harry's and Snape's Occlumancy lessons. What's interesting here is that from Snape's words, it seems the protego spell isn't supposed to work like that. Harry is magically powerful enough to make protego (shield charm) to defend him from Legilamancy, turn the Legilamancy onto Snape and disarm Snape.

No wonder Snape is shocked, it really isn't supposed to work. Unless you're Harry Potter, that is.

He did say in their first lesson the rules of magic don't seem to apply to Harry.

“Reparo!” hissed Snape, and the jar sealed itself once more. “Well, Potter . . . that was certainly an improvement. . . .” Panting slightly, Snape straightened the Pensieve in which he had again stored some of his thoughts before starting the lesson, almost as though checking that they were still there. “I don’t remember telling you to use a Shield Charm . . . but there is no doubt that it was effective. . . .”

(Order of the Phoenix, page 591)

What I marked here is the fact in all their occlumancy lessons, even the first, Snape always placed a few memories in the pensive. He chose memories he didn't want Harry to see and place them there.

Okay... so why is that a big deal?

Snape repeatedly belittles Harry's magical skills, and yet, he fears Harry would turn the Legilemancy connection back on him. Legilemancy as Snape explained is no easy skill:

“Only Muggles talk of ‘mind reading.’ The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter . . . or at least, most minds are. . . .” He smirked. “It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly...”

(Order of the Phoenix, pages 350-351)

As such, he doesn't expect Harry to be capable of it. But that’s a lie. He clearly thinks Harry is skilled enough to be a threat in this situation. That Harry just might be able to turn this around and glimpse his own memories, which is no easy feat.

And Snape is many things, but stupid isn't one of them. If he thinks Harry is uniquely magically prodigious to be capable of this, then Harry probably is. Especially considering how much Snape hates Harry and how much he'd rather think he's stupid, useless, and unskilled.

“SHE KILLED SIRIUS!” bellowed Harry. “SHE KILLED HIM — I’LL KILL HER!” And he was off, scrambling up the stone benches. People were shouting behind him but he did not care. The hem of Bellatrix’s robes whipped out of sight ahead and they were back in the room where the brains were swimming. . . . She aimed a curse over her shoulder. The tank rose into the air and tipped. Harry was deluged in the foul-smelling potion within. The brains slipped and slid over him and began spinning their long, colored tentacles, but he shouted, “Wingardium Leviosa!” and they flew into the air away from him. Slipping and sliding he ran on toward the door.

(Order of the Phoenix, page 809)

Okay, so can we talk about this Levitation Charm? Please?

Like, get this, he uses Wingardium Leviosa, like a shield charm that sends multiple magical projectiles away from him. This isn't how this charm works, but it is if you're Harry Potter. (again, this is that intention use I mentioned)

The point is, that Harry is magically powerful enough to bend the way spells are meant to work to fit his will and situation.

And when Voldemort possesses him at the end of the fight in Order of the Phoenix:

He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature’s began. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape — And when the creature spoke, it used Harry’s mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move. . . . “Kill me now, Dumbledore. . . .” Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again. . . . “If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy. . . .” Let the pain stop, thought Harry. Let him kill us. . . . End it, Dumbledore. . . . Death is nothing compared to this. . . . And I’ll see Sirius again. . . . And as Harry’s heart filled with emotion, the creature’s coils loosened, the pain was gone, Harry was lying facedown on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering as though he lay upon ice, not wood. . . .

(Order of the Phoenix, page 816)

Harry kicks Voldemort out.

As I mentioned, I have a a whole theory I'm drafting about magical theory and how magic works in the Wizarding World, but emotion as Harry describes in this scene is part of it. Emotion drives childhood accidental magic. Emotion is required to cast the Patronus charm and any of the unforgivable. Because of how emotion is tied to magic in this world, this instance is Harry's magic kicking Voldemort in his full power out of his mind.

Which is an impressive feat of magic.

Advanced Charmwork

“Oh — yeah —” said Harry, quickly forcing his thoughts back to that first broom ride. “Expecto patrono — no, patronum — sorry — expecto patronum, expecto patronum —” Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of his wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas. “Did you see that?” said Harry excitedly. “Something happened!”

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 238)

This is the first time Harry cast a Patronus Charm. On his very first try of this complex charm, most adult wizards fail at — he succeeds. It isn't a perfect casting. His happy memory isn't happy enough, but the problem isn't Harry's skill.

The fact he succeeded in casting it at all with how crap his life has been up to this point is a testament to his magical talent.

Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before. He flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed “Crucio!” Bellatrix screamed. The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had — she was already on her feet again, breathless, no longer laughing.

(Order of the Phoenix, page 810)

Harry, at age fifteen, casts the Cruciatus Curse for the first time. An advanced piece of dark magic that is tricky to cast. Sure, it wasn't the best cast Crucio, but it did work.

It did land.

It worked enough for Bellatrix to stop laughing and start taking Harry seriously.

Harry raised the hawthorn wand beneath the cloak, pointed it at the old goblin, and whispered, for the first time in his life, “Imperio!” A curious sensation shot down Harry’s arm, a feeling of tingling, warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast.

(Deathly Hollows, page 452)

Like with the Cruciatus Curse, Harry succeeds in the Imperius curse on his first try (and the second try that happens immediately after). In general, Harry learns to cast most spells (even the advanced ones) incredibly quickly — like, on his first try. That's insane!

As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, “Crucio!” The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. “I see what Bellatrix meant,” said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, “you need to really mean it.”

(Deathly Hollows, page 502)

And he gets better over time, both with the Cruciatus Curse, as we see here and his fully corporeal Patronus which is considered an unbelievable feat for a fifteen-year-old:

“Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapor or smoke?” “Yes,” said Harry, feeling both impatient and slightly desperate, “it’s a stag, it’s always a stag.” “Always?” boomed Madam Bones. “You have produced a Patronus before now?” “Yes,” said Harry, “I’ve been doing it for over a year —” “And you are fifteen years old?” “Yes, and —” “You learned this at school?” “Yes, Professor Lupin taught me in my third year, because of the —” “Impressive,” said Madam Bones, staring down at him, “a true Patronus at that age . . . very impressive indeed.”

(Order of the Phoenix, page 141)

I agree Madam Bones, Harry is impressive and is Voldemort's equal magically. Harry isn't just Expelliarmos. he's clever and talented and very magically capable with every spell he tries his hand in.

[violettwrites]

season of the witch 🦇 eddie munson

author’s note: LOOSELY based on a tiktok headcanon thing i saw of eddie AGES ago where he met an actual witch and got so scared he stopped playing d&d for a month. but thought she was super hot.

also this is based before any of the upside down stuff in s4 so eddie is simply oblivious.

this is my first piece of work ever pls bear with me 😭 but if you like it, i’d love it if you supported me by liking, commenting, and/or reblogging !! thank you 🫶🏻

warnings: nothing really ?? just the tiniest bit of spiritualism and that stuff idk

word count: 995

before today, eddie had never really noticed you at school before. you tried your hardest to blend in, not wanting to be noticed by people anyway. it wasn’t really your thing— talking to people. but when you had passed by him in the cafeteria one day during lunch, the smell of your perfume hit him like a truck and he couldn’t help but stare.

he was mad that he hadn’t noticed you before, because how dare he not notice someone as breathtakingly beautiful as you? you had such a mysterious aura about yourself that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. it was captivating.

“who’s that?” he asked his friends who were sitting at the table with him, eyes still staring you down as you sat alone in the cafeteria, your nose stuck into a stephen king book — it looked like… misery? he couldn’t exactly tell from all the way over here.

“oh, that’s (y/n).” gareth spoke up, his head turning to look at you before he looked back at eddie. “rumor has it that she’s a witch. apparently she cast a spell on mr. john’s once because he failed her in chemistry and that’s how he ended up with that burn down the left side of his face.”

eddie looked at gareth with a confused look on his face, brows furrowed together slightly. “i thought that was just a science experiment gone wrong?” he looked back over at you, swallowing the lump in his throat. you definitely looked like you could be a witch, but that was stupid. witches weren’t real… right?

“yeah that’s what the school wants us to think.” gareth shook his head with a smirk, not exactly believing that eddie was starting to actually think you were a witch. “why? wanna talk to her do ya?” he teased, making eddie look back at him with almost fearful eyes, shaking his head side to side rather quickly.

as the bell rang, eddie watched you pack your things into your bag— that’s when he noticed the pentagram around your neck, and the lump in his throat grew thicker. okay, maybe you were a witch.

— — —

throughout the week, you had occupied eddie’s mind. when he was playing d&d with his friends, he was distracted by his mind racing with thoughts about you, wondering if what gareth said was true. it’s not like he didn’t believe in the supernatural, because he definitely believed in vampires and all that, but he didn’t expect them to be walking with him.

so when he found himself at the record store on saturday, perusing the heavy metal albums for his latest addition to his collection, he could smell that all to familiar perfume that he had only smelt on you. he looked up, seeing you standing on the other side of the aisle facing him, fingers flicking through records before pulling one out to look at it.

he wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at you, but your voice had pulled him from his thoughts. “hi?” you spoke, your voice soft yet full of confusion. his mouth was slightly agape as he looked at you, and you had to admit. you found him quite adorable.

“h-hello.” he stuttered out, eyes looking at your as his fingers held the latest dio album.

“the last in line. good album.” you nodded, offering him a small smile. eddie swore his heart was about to burst now. you had good music taste. he nodded his head quite quickly, not really having the words to speak to you properly. he still couldn’t shake the fact that you were a witch. “did you cast a spell on mr. john’s? is that why his face is all burnt up?” he blurted out, eyes going a little wide and cheeks turning pink.

you furrowed your brows slightly in confusion, shaking your head slowly. “i’m… not following you?” you tilted your head a little, your own fingers still holding the latest album from echo and the bunnymen.

“gareth said you were a witch— i mean, you have that uh— that pentagram on your necklace.” he pointed out, and you almost let out a HA! but you had to stop yourself. “it’s a pentacle, bit of a different thing.” you laughed softly, shaking your head. “it’s used for protection and to banish unwanted spirits.” you went back to looking through the albums, having set the one you were previously holding aside.

eddie stood there, mouth still agape. “so you are a witch?” he asked, and you almost rolled your eyes as you stopped browsing the albums again. the good thing that came from being unnoticed was you didn’t have to deal with situations like this. “yes, and no. it’s not like i have magic flowing through my fingers or anything dumb like that. it’s more of a spirituality thing. like a religion, but it’s not.”

still staring at you, eddie nodded his head a little before going back to looking through the albums, his mind slightly at ease knowing you weren’t a supernatural being. it was quiet between the two of you for the next ten minutes, but when you had gathered the albums you were ready to buy, starting to head towards the register, eddie called out to you.

“can i get your number?” he asked, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. you raised an eyebrow at him, a small smirk on your lips as you made your way over to him. you dug through your bag, pulling out a sharpie before grabbing his arm to write your landline on his forearm. “call me after 8. that’s when i finish my sacrificial work.” you winked at him teasingly, leaving him and heading over to the register.

he stood there baffled as you left, arm still held in the position it was when you had been writing on his arm. he watched you leave the store, his heart racing as he wondered if he’d be your next victim.

[domnamewoman]

what would shang tsung, syzoth, smoke and rain be like with a gn!witch? who do spell with more natural things, like crystal, herbs, etc... imagine them being like "I found this little rock, maybe you'd like it" and their s/o picks it up like it's a goblin lol. I love your work, u are amazing 🌟

Characters: Rain, Shang Tsung, Reptile, Smoke

Warnings: Witch!GN!Reader

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

“Can you hand me the duck feathers?” You ask, reaching out your hand to Syzoth.

Syzoth picks up the feathers from the table and walks over to you, placing them in your hand.

“Thank you.” You grab the feathers and stir them into the brewing elixir.

“It amazes me that all these random ingredients can be mixed together to create magic,” Syzoth says in wonderment.

“It’s not so much the ingredients than it is the intention of the person mixing them.”

“Hmm, so the real power comes from you,” Syzoth contemplates as he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Yes, I guess in a way.” You nod, “But I can’t enchant someone without them being exposed to the potion in some way.”

“You seemed to do a pretty good job of enchanting me,” Syzoth mumbles into your cheek as he places a kiss there, “Making me fall for you.”

“You are so cheesy,” You grumble, loving every part of it.

“I think I might pass out…” Zeffeero pants as he hovers over the toilet.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” You apologize as you rub comforting circles on his back.

“Why”–heave–”Why would you even need a p-potion that induces vomiting?”

“It can be useful to demobilize an enemy during a fight,” You reason sympathetically.

“Except I’m not an enemy who's trying to fig-” Zeffeero gets cut off by more contents getting expelled from his stomach.

“I mean it is kind of your fault. Why would you drink a random liquid you haven’t seen before?”

Zeffeero turns his head to you and glares, “M-My fault? I was thirsty. Why was your potion in the refrigerator?”

“The ingredients had to be cold in order to fuse together properly,” You sigh as Zeffeero is hit with another bought of vomiting, “Okay, I should have labeled it. I’m sorry.”

“H-How long is it s-supposed to last?” Zeffeero pants out.

You cringe, “Two hours…”

“Two hours!?”

Shang Tsung stares at the potion you were brewing with repulsion. He leans over and takes a sniff before quickly covering his nose and holding back a gag.

“You know, I would be most delighted to teach you my sorcery. It is more sophisticated than creating vile concoctions like this.”

“Oh shush, there is more than one way to do magic, Shang. This is mine,” You say as you add five drops of toad’s blood to the cauldron.

“It’s tedious and ineffective in an emergency. You have to spend time brewing potions and then have someone consume it for it to work,” Shang Tsung argues.

“They don’t have to consume it, I can also put it in a bottle and throw it at them like a Molotov. Also, making potions isn’t tedious, I actually find it rather relaxing.”

“What could be relaxing about this horrid smell?”

You roll your eyes before turning to Shang Tsung and raising an eyebrow, “Well if your sorcery is so sophisticated, why don’t you zap away the smell?”

You and Shang Tsung stare at each other, your smile growing by the second. Shang Tsung pompously waves his hand before turning around and walking away.

“I thought so,” you chuckle as you turn back to your potion.

You’re standing in your spell room, organizing your crystals and taking stock of potion supplies when Tomas excitedly bursts through the door.

“Baby, I got you something,” Tomas sings as he walks up to you with his hands behind his back.

“What is it?” You excitedly inquire as you try to peek around him.

“Something almost as beautiful as you.”

“Show me already,” You impatiently demand.

“Ta-da!” Says Tomas as he brings his hands in front of him and extends his fingers to reveal a rainbow-colored crystal sitting in his palms.

“Oh my gosh, Tomas-”

“It’s pretty isn’t it? I knew you would lov-”

“No, it’s dangerous.” You snatch it out of his hand and jog to the front door, throwing it as far as you can away from the house. “That is a lifeforce-draining crystal.”

“I-I just thought it was a pretty rock… I’m sorry.”

You shake your head lovingly at Tomas as you comfortingly rub his arm, “I appreciate the thought, anyway. Just leave the crystal scavenging to me.”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Truth of the Matter

A four part miniseries

@wonderland-girl143-blog @gregre369 @420-hun

Part One

Part Two

Robin poured over the book that Eddie had bought at the Flea Market. She was reading it rather intensely. She looked up at Eddie.

"You said you bought this at a Flea Market?" Robin asked.

"Actually, it was free. There was this woman selling only this. I thought it was strange, especially when she wouldn't sell it until I came up. She said, "This is for you," and gave it to me," Eddie said. "I tried going back the next weekend, but she was gone, and no one ever heard of her."

"That is. . .odd," Dustin said.

"Well, everything else is in English, but the spells are in Latin," Robin said.

"No, they were all in English. I read English," Eddie said.

"Uh, Eddie, you weren't speaking in English when you said the spell," Lucas said.

"I wasn't?" He asked.

"No," Dustin, Mike, and Lucas said.

"Why are you still glaring at me, Michael?" Robin asked. "I almost punched you, but I didn't. . . Anyway, it says here that only people with Wiccan blood can automatically translate the spells in their head and perform them."

"Wait, does this mean that I'm a witch?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah."

"Holy shit! This is the COOOLEST!" Eddie yelled.

"Hey, maybe you can use your powers to help Steve find his parents," Dustin said.

"Oh, shit, that's right. . .Harrington was kidnapped," Eddie winced and whirled around. "Sorry, man."

Steve had plopped down on Eddie's throne and leaned back against it as he crossed his legs. He was staring straight ahead, looking at nothing. Eddie tried to ignore how good he looked in that chair and also the fact that he wanted to untangle his legs to sit down in his lap. His face looked troubled, so Eddie easily pushed those thoughts away.

"You okay, man?" Eddie asked.

"Steve?" Robin asked.

"Shit! Robin, who's at the store?!" Steve asked, sitting up.

"I closed the store and hitched a ride with a customer. Keith is going to be pissed but I thought you were being murdered," Robin said. "Anyway, more important things to focus on here, babe. Are you okay?"

"Well, my parents aren't my parents, which I kind of always thought, but I didn't think they kidnapped me. Do you think they might have killed my real parents?" Steve asked.

"I don't know, but we're going to fucking find out because you look like a goddamn kicked puppy and the way you're inflating your eyes like that is killing me," Eddie said as he ripped the book out of Robin's hands.

"We're just going to ignore a lot of the secrets that Steve spilled, right?" Dustin asked.

"Even the sex dream about - " Lucas started to say.

"Yes, because that's my fucking sister and Will's brother!" Mike exclaimed.

"Ah, the sex dream. Did you mention the clown sitting in the corner watching while it made balloon animals?" Robin asked.

"No!" Steve scowled. "Fucking clowns."

"Did you really touch Steve’s dick?" Dustin asked Robin.

"Yes, and my lesbianism is still very much intact," Robin said. "Thank God."

"I thought we weren't going to talk about this!" Mike yelled.

"Mike's such a prude. He's afraid to talk about sex even though we're all sentient walking water bags made of sex and flesh," Dustin said.

"Okay. Now, you just made me uncomfortable. Never describe it like that again," Eddie said.

Dustin gave him a toothy grin, and he smiled softly before looking back at the book.

"What are we going to do if my parents are like dead or on the other side of the world?" Steve asked.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, Steve," Dustin said.

"You want to know, don't you?" Robin asked.

"Yeah. . .yeah, I guess," Steve said softly. "I guess it's the feeling that I don't know what to expect here that's overwhelming me. I'm trying not to get my hopes up for really good parents."

"That makes sense," Robin said softly. "I'm sure it'll work out."

"I can't believe Eddie's allowing you to sit in his chair," Mike said. "No one sits there except for him."

"It's cause he's pretty," Eddie said without looking up, and Steve giggled. "Hey, I found it! Steve, get your gorgeous ass in the circle and take off your shirt. Oh, you also need a blank piece of paper."

"Does it really need me to take off my shirt?" Steve asked.

"Yes it does," Eddie said seriously.

Dustin looked over his shoulder, frowned, and opened his mouth to say something. Eddie quickly put his arm around him and pulled his face to his chest, cooing at him. Steve looked doubtfully at him for a moment before getting up off the chair and pulling off his shirt. Dustin shoved Eddie away, scowling at him. Eddie grinned at Steve as he moved back into the circle with a sheet of paper. Eddie relit the candles and got the others to stand around Steve.

"Am I good?" Steve asked.

"Hold on, you need to be a little bit more even," Eddie frowned.

He placed his hands on Steve’s hips and moved him slightly.

"I think you're just finding any excuse to touch me," Steve smirked.

"Who? Me?" Eddie asked innocently.

"If I look in the book, it's not going to say I need to be shirtless, is it?" He asked.

Eddie smirked and moved his hands to Steve’s stomach. He dragged his fingertips up, moving softly over his skin. Steve shuddered. He rested his hands on his pecs for a moment before moving them to his shoulders.

"On your knees, big boy," Eddie said as he pushed him to his knees.

"I just want to remind you that there are children in the room, and one of them is me!" Robin yelled and Eddie jumped.

"What were we doing?" He asked as he blinked a lot.

"Oh my God! Finding Steve’s parents!" Dustin shrieked. "Have your way with our babysitter later!"

"You act like it's my fault!" Eddie exclaimed. "Tell Steve to stop being so pretty!"

"Steve! Stop it!"

"I can't help it! It just naturally happens," Steve smirked.

"Well, since you're not human, I guess you could say it's SUPERnatural," Robin said.

Robin and Steve giggled before high fiving each other. Dustin sighed.

"Steve, do you want to find your parents or not?" Dustin asked.

"Not if you're going to have that attitude," Steve scowled.

"It's his tone, right?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, let's get this done before our kid has a conniption," Steve said.

"He's really eager to meet his grandparents," Eddie cackled.

"Oh, now, you're in on the joke?" Dustin asked as Mike and Lucas laughed.

"Yeah," Steve and Eddie said.

Eddie opened the book and began to chant. The lights flickered, and the flames from the candles shot up in the air. Wind whipped around the room as Eddie continued to say the spell. Steve twitched and then shook before falling backward. He started shrieking in pain as the paper fell from his hands.

"Eddie! Stop! Stop! STOP! SOMETHING'S WRONG!" Lucas yelled.

Eddie stopped the chant, and as soon as he did, Steve stopped screaming.

"My back, my back. . .something's on my back," Steve said.

Eddie shut the book and rushed so quickly to get to him that he ended up sliding across the floor on his knees. He turned Steve over to find a painful looking rune flaring up in the middle of his back.

"What the fuck is that?" Mike asked.

Eddie opened the book and began flipping through the pages, cursing as he did so. Meanwhile, he had Steve’s head in his lap, blinking up at him.

"Okay, it says here that it's some sort of rune of protection. . . Against fae. . .you know, fairies. . .a witch placed it on you," Eddie said. "Well, that's fucked. . . No wonder your parents couldn't find you. . .well, let's see if we can't get this fucker off of you. . . Shit, I hope I can do this. . .it says I need to be related to the witch who placed the rune on you."

Eddie took one hand off the book and began stroking Steve’s hair. He muttered something, and the page turned. He did that quite a few times as he read.

"Eddie, what did you say to the book?" Mike asked.

"Oh, I said,"Turn the page." I guess I was speaking in Latin again," Eddie said.

"That's so cool," Dustin muttered.

"Okay. . .getting this rune off is going to hurt a lot. . .do you want to do this?" Eddie asked Steve.

"I'm used to a little pain. Bring it," Steve said.

"Okay, sit up," Eddie said and pulled a knife out of his pocket.

Steve sat up, putting himself on his knees again. Eddie sat behind him and muttered something else. The spellbook floated in front of him, and he opened the knife. Eddie sighed and hesitated before placing a kiss on Steve’s shoulders blade.

"Is that part of the spell?" Steve asked.

"No, it's just going to fucking hurt a lot. It's basically me cutting it out. . .so, yeah. . .sorry, so, so, so sorry," Eddie said.

He muttered another spell as he looked at the book and held the knife over a flame, letting it get hot. He chanted for a moment, and the flames flared up around the blade. Eddie hovered the blade above the rune and started to say the spell as he moved the knife as though he was actually cutting it off. Steve let out an inhuman shriek, his yells bouncing off the walls. The wind picked up, the flames grew higher, and the lights above them exploded as Eddie continued to chant. Tears rolled down Steve’s cheek as he threw his head back. Finally, Eddie stopped, and Steve collapsed in relief.

"Shit, that did hurt," Steve said, and he paused when he didn't get a response. "Eddie?"

Steve turned around and found Eddie still sitting on his knees. Blood was pouring out of his nose. He swayed and fell backward. Steve moved over to him and cradled him in his arms.

"Eddie?" He asked.

"There was a suggestion in the book to not overdo it. I was just like. . .fuck it, I can do it. I'm fine, I'm fine. . .I just need someone's lips on mine," Eddie said and closed his eyes, puckering his lips.

"Alright, I'll just go find Principal Higgins, shall I?" Dustin asked, peering over Steve’s shoulder.

"I'm up, I'm up!" Eddie sat up quickly. "Oh, too fast! Sleepy. . ."

He pressed his cheek against Steve’s chest and closed his eyes again. His snores filled the room.

"I guess we'll take him back to my place," Steve said and picked him up.

Robin pulled out a tissue and wiped Eddie's nose.

"Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Your tits are still out, you slut."

"Right. Thanks, Robin."

When Eddie woke up, he found himself in a very ugly room. Plaid walls, plaid curtains, plaid sheets. . .Eddie screamed. He screamed louder at the single car poster hanging on the wall. . .it was all so sad. Steve burst into the room, wielding a bat with nails.

"Steve, where the hell am I?" Eddie asked.

"My house and my room," Steve said.

"Oh my God, this is your room? This is hell, Steve," Eddie said in horror.

"Well, my parents like everything neat," Steve said.

"You mean, your kidnappers," Eddie corrected.

"Right," Steve frowned. "Come on, let's get something in you."

"Hell yeah!" Eddie exclaimed and started unbuttoning his pants.

"What are you doing? I was talking about food. There's pizza downstairs," Steve said.

"Yeah, that's what I was talking about," Eddie said quickly. "I was just unbuttoning them to make room for the pizza."

"Right," Steve smirked. "As much as I would love to do that with you, some secrets should remain secret. I do not want the kids to know that I'm a screamer. Let's go, sweet cheeks."

Steve slapped his ass and Eddie cursed.

"I hate you!"

"No, you don't!"

Dustin immediately threw his arms around Eddie the minute he walked into the kitchen. Steve smiled softly at the sight of them and ruffled his hair.

"You scared the shit out of us, man," Dustin said. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just needed some rest," Eddie grinned. "What time is it?"

"Almost midnight. Are you going to do the location spell again?" Mike asked.

"He just woke up, Mike. Let's get some food in him first," Steve sighed.

"After I eat," Eddie said, snapping his fingers at him.

Sitting down to eat, Eddie spent the majority of the meal laughing with the kids and playing with what he thought was Steve’s leg under the table. It had been Robin's.

"You could have told me!" Eddie hissed.

"Then it wouldn't have been funny," Robin replied.

They gathered in the living room and pushed the furniture out of the way to create the circle. Eddie knelt in front of Steve this time, the book floating beside them, and the piece of paper on the floor.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Steve said.

"I kind of do. . .I judged you harshly before. . .because you're a jock and because of the assholes who's bothered us in the past. I used to think that since you had a big house and a fancy car that you had it easy. I used to mock you mercilessly in Hellfire, and that wasn't right of me to do that," Eddie said. "Not all jocks are bad."

"Well, no one is perfect," Steve said. "This is a lot even for all of that. Thank you, you're a good man."

"I mean, so are you," Eddie said, blushing. "I'm still an asshole though."

"Yeah, that's true," Steve said with a grin.

Steve cupped the back of his neck and pulled him for a kiss. It was short and sweet. When Steve pulled away, Eddie let out a soft giggle.

"I am loving this," Dustin grinned and then frowned. "But also, gross."

"Yeah, kids never like it when their parents kiss," Robin said, and Dustin sighed loudly.

Grinning, Eddie performed the spells without any problems. Words appeared on the paper. One of them was an address in Indianapolis, and one of them was a plot number for the cemetery in Hawkins.

"Well, shit, I guess one of my parents is dead," Steve frowned.

"Sorry, Steve," Dustin said quietly.

"We don't have to do it tonight, but we can check out the cemetery whenever you want to," Robin said.

"I'm curious now, and at least, I'll get one answer tonight," Steve said. "Although, going at night seems like a bad idea."

"Don't be a chicken shit, Steve, let's do it," Dustin grinned.

So, now, here they were. . .at night. . .in a fucking graveyard. They had flashlights, and Steve made sure to bring his trusty bat. Meanwhile, Robin made sure to bring a thermos full of hot cocoa that she was currently sharing with the boys in front of them. Eddie was walking beside Steve, swinging his arms and letting his hand brush up against Steve’s.

"So, was that kiss just a one-time thing, or are you planning on doing it again?" Eddie asked.

"I definitely want to do it again. . . Would that be okay?" Steve asked.

"Definitely," Eddie grinned and then paused. "You said back in the drama room that you'd always be in love with Nancy Wheeler."

"Well, yeah, a part of me, anyways. There's just so much history there, and she's just so. . . Nancy. She's beautiful, and she cares so much about people. She's willing to put it all on the line for her friends and for her family. She's the bravest person that I have ever met. I don't regret falling in love with her. . . But I regret that I didn't get to know her best friend and I wish I could have been there for her when she needed me the most. I know what happened to Barb wasn't our fault, but I still can't help feeling guilty. I think there's always going to be that connection between us," Steve said.

"I know that Barb died, and she was Wheeler's best friend, but isn't it that Brenner's guys fault? The one Dustin told me about?" Eddie asked. "Why would you feel guilty?"

"Well, it was the first time that Nancy and I had sex together. While that was going on in my house, Barb was being dragged into the Upside Down and . . . Well, you know. . ." Steve said.

"Holy fucking shit. . .yeah, I could see how that could mess you both up," Eddie said.

"Yeah. . .it's pathetic, I know. . ." Steve said.

"No, man, it's not. You're not pining after her, you love her, and you accept the fact that you're not going to be together. I can see why either of you would want to hold onto the good parts of your relationship. You all have been through so much shit and if you guys can come through it all while still having love in your hearts. . . It's amazing," Eddie said.

"Yeah," Steve smiled and paused. "Have you ever been in love?"

"I've come close. I think at the time, we both had stars in our eyes, and all we saw when we looked at each other were plane tickets out of town. In the end, I couldn't leave town, but she could have, and after everything she did for me, I couldn't go with her. I wish I had done it better, but yeah, I pushed her away so she wouldn't come back," Eddie said.

"Damn, you white fanged her?" Steve asked.

"I mean, I guess you could call it that," Eddie said. "You know White Fang?"

"Yeah, it's not my favorite," he said and paused. "I wish things had gone better with. . ."

"Paige," Eddie said.

"Paige," Steve said.

"I wish things had gone better with Nancy," Eddie replied.

"Yeah," he said softly.

"You like women, too?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "It took me a while to realize that I liked men at all or that I was even flirting with them. According to my best friend, Ronnie, it's not exactly very straight of me to go on rants about jocks' sweaty muscles."

"Was I in one of those rants?" Steve asked as he stopped and turned to Eddie.

He pulled Eddie into his arms, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"You were very prominent," Eddie said bashfully.

"Maybe you didn't hate me at all," Steve said, his eyes twinkling. "Maybe you just had a type."

Eddie kissed him, and Steve smiled against his lips. Eddie wrapped his arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss, moaning into his mouth.

"REALLY ROMANTIC, STEVE, MAKING OUT IN A GRAVEYARD!" Dustin yelled. "YOU'RE KISSING OVER DEAD PEOPLE!"

Eddie growled as he broke the kiss and Steve bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"NO ONE IS SUPPOSE TO KNOW WE'RE HERE BUT IF YOU KEEP YELLING LIKE THAT THEY'RE GOING TO. . .BUTTHEAD!" Eddie yelled back at him.

"FOUND IT!" Lucas yelled.

"I don't think they understand the word subtle," Steve sighed. "Although, neither do you, so they're definitely yours."

"Were there doubts?" Eddie asked with a dramatic gasp.

Steve smiled softly at him, grabbed his hand, and laced their fingers together before pulling him in the direction of the kids. When they got to them, Robin and the kids were whispering together.

"There's no fucking way!" Mike exclaimed. "He never had kids!"

"That you know of. I imagine that it was probably painful to talk about your son getting kidnapped and being unable to find him in your own hometown," Dustin said.

"What? What is it?" Steve asked.

"Are we even sure it's the right plot?" Mike asked.

"Yes!" Dustin and Lucas exclaimed.

Steve moved towards the gravestone and shined his flashlight on it.

BOB NEWBY

SUPERHERO

Part Three

[windvexer]

Witches don't owe you mundanity, actually.

Discussions about "mundane before magic" are important. I'm not against them.

When I was working full time, for half of the year I woke up before sunrise, worked all day indoors, and drove home after sunset. Being able to experience the weather felt like a truly magical event. Feeling the sun on my skin felt like a kiss from the gods.

And it's very handy for there to be awareness that, no, Apollo wasn't calling to me to be a devotee because the one day I was really stressed in December the clouds broke and it was sunny in the outdoor seating area.

Clouds just move sometimes.

But I am against people's need to come into conversations which are specifically about real magic that is happening, and say, "hold on! What if it's not happening, though? Rule out mundane first!"

It's actually fine for witches to have conversations that assume the reality of magic without people needing to barge in and say, "wait! What if this isn't magic at all?"

These conversations are not inherently unsafe or irrational.

The people participating in them are not automatically mentally ill or in need of medical treatment.

"Mundane before magical" is not a talisman that needs to be hung on conversations before they can be rational and useful.

It is not up to you to decide the route other practitioners want to take in order to explore their own experiences.

Sound bites about "ruling out mundane" aren't helpful if people do not understand how to practically apply that advice.

People are not obligated to trot out a list of their mundane discernment techniques before they make a magical post about magic in the magical community, and declining to do so does not mean that they failed to take those steps.

For heaven's sake. If you cannot comfortably exist around magical conversations without assuming that everyone else is engaging in irrational thinking, you are the problem.

Conversations about developing discernment of mundanity itself are very good and healthy.

But these talking points do not belong in every single conversation. Much less in personal posts where a person is just sharing cute photos of spells they did!

Look, practitioners do not owe you mundanity.

Practitioners do not owe you an explanation of the mundane shit they've done in conjunction with a spell.

Practitioners do not owe you an explanation of the mental health counseling they've received as part of their spiritual journey.

Practitioners are not obligated to tack on lip-service "mundane first :3" disclaimers onto posts that are clearly discussing the reality of magic within their own paradigm.

Magical practitioners do not owe you mundanity.

Please, make your own posts about mundanity discernment. Do research, ask practitioners, make well-rounded masterposts. Share and reblog these posts. Link them when appropriate. Be a part of the conversation that highlights these important issues and discernment skills. Contribute resources when people ask for help with their magical discernment.

But don't think that walking into any random post and asking OP why they assumed they had a magical experience is helpful in the slightest.

[shebsart]

Ok I don't wanna be a joykill but I've been seeing a lot of posts about how Sophie made Howl and the Witch get together but that is not true. So I made a rough timeline.

First of all, in order for Sophie's magic hat to work, the Witch or Howl would have to wear it but the first and most likely the only time The Witch visits Sophie's shop is AFTER Howl already jilted her, because she is looking for information about him at this point. She puts a spell on Sophie thinking she is Lettie, whom Suliman-Justin mix(the dog man) cares about. Because he witholds information about Howl from her. (plus the witch has heard sophie works powerful magic so thats two birds one stone)

Second, Howl met the Witch a year before the main events but it doesn't add up with the time Sophie speaks this to the hat:

This is during Sophie is alone at the hat shop after Martha and Lettie left.

Howl later says this(which is hardly a month after May Day):

she says this on May Day:

Sophie has been working at the shop by herself for a few months before May Day, and around a week later she meets the Witch.(she says at least 3 days to around a week has passed after speaking to Martha on May Day)

Anyway here is the rough timeline of the main events:

1. The Witch threatens Princess Valeria, The King sends Suliman to her and he's caught by the Witch (a year prior the main events)

2. A few months later, Howl is possibly looking for Suliman and he meets the Witch in the process:

that's around the same time Howl settles his moving castle on Market Chipping Hills (this is a little while before Sophie's dad dies and the sisters go their seperate ways):

We actually don't knoew when exactly he made the moving castle or why, but if Michael is correct it's after Howl jilts the Witch:

buut Howl doesn't say anything about that so I assume he made it for convenience and to escape the responsibilities of being a good wizard lol but let me know if i'm missing something (to me, the castle phsically moving is only for the appearances, it doesn't actually do any good for running away from anyone. the real trick is the multiple portals and settlements of the castle)

3. around this time Prince Justin goes after Suliman

ok so when justin and count are looking for suliman, sophie is working at the hat shop because count meets jane when she was wearing sophie's hat

4. May Day comes, Sophie meets Howl without knowing it's him.

5. around 7-10 days later, The Witch visits Sophie's shop and puts a spell on her. She leaves the shop and enters Howl's castle on the hills.

6. Her stay at the Castle is around 1,5 months

she enters the castle on lets say 8-9th of May, until Howl's curse comes true on Midsummer's Day (which is mid july)

-Oh and, speaking of a common misconception, Howl didn't buy the guitar to impress girls, he thought it was related to Suliman somehow because it also came from Wales (so did the skull and Suliman). According to Calcifer, he uses it to impress girls but im not sure if that's true entirely:

So when he takes his guitar with him, he is probably looking for Justin and Suliman, maybe he thinks the guitar would help finding them. But probably it also works with the ladies so it doesn't hurt kfdls

-The Witch did curse Howl for jilting her, but she wasn't looking for him only because of that. She wanted his head (the second most powerful wizard next to her most likely) for her frankenstein's monster to rule with her dksl. Same with Suliman. She probably didn't want Mrs. Pentstemmon because she was also old and wasn't much use to her anymore. Or maybe Mrs Pentstemmon wasn't showing any weaknesses to the Witch which made it hard to capture her. not sure

[kobitoshiningneedle]

WHA chapter 40...... What have you done.

I fully empathize that this is the Orufrey witch husbands doomed yaoi haven, but ALSO it manages to develop Qifrey's character in a twisted-grey areaish AND more symathetic way

He actually really loves living in the atelier.

And he genuinely enjoys being a mentor to the girls. It often happens that this kind of "settlted down" life is a disguise for a hero to pursuit his covert objections, but it's the case with Qifrey. The part about living a quiet life with the close friend and girls that are practically like daughters to him is genuine. 'Professor Qirfey' is real.

All of which, curiously, reinforces Qifrey's pursuit for the Brimhats

First of all, I guess Qifrey thinks he's a Naruto character is somehow sure that catching Brimhats who experimented on him and returning his remaining eye may stop his vision loss*

What witch can fare without vision? And what Professor would he be if he wouldn't be able to see how his girls succeed?

The other reason why Qifrey is all worked up about Brimhats is more terrifying

(too many tasty Qifrey frames. mwah)

So the Brimhats are trying to create a new, more twisted type of magic instead of using older forbidden spells they are known for. And apparently this is something truly dangerous so that he couldn't even tell Oru about it.

So there's a threat Qifrey knows about. Something that may directly affect the way witches live. Something that poses danger to his way of life... and to his family.

None of what I said is something obscure and groundbreaking, it's in the plain text, but I really wanted to point at how greatly the chapter recontextualizes Qifrey. It shows him as a more sleazy and shady man who isn't above messing with his best friend's memories, but also as a really desperate person who actually was trying to preserve everything he loves. His actions are out of love, not only revenge

You get it, do you, Bel? Although in some way he's working exactly to not letting his home being destroyed.

*actually, this condition really does exist in the real life! It's called sympathetic ophtalmy. After one eye gets injured (or destroyed) the immune system barrier between blood and eye tissues is gone, which causes inflammation of the intact eye to the point of losing vision in it. It usually happens after several weeks/months after the trauma. Really clever of Shirahama to do that

[damonblack966]

How To Master Witchcraft Even Having Little Spare Time

When Life Makes Practicing Witchcraft Difficult

Are you finding it hard to make time for your daily magical practice? Do you feel overwhelmed by all the other obligations of life, and have no idea how to fit one more thing into your already crammed schedule? You’re not alone! This is one of the most common things that I hear when I chat online, what’s stopping them from really pursuing the craft. It always comes down to too many responsibilities and too little time.

The truth is that the flashy witchcraft practices you see online are often staged, exaggerated, or even entirely made up. Comparing yourself and your practice to what you see other people doing online simply isn’t reasonable. Why would a mom of three who also works full time have a witchcraft practice that looks the same as a university student on TikTok who has no job and very few responsibilities? The answer is, she wouldn’t! That would be insane!

The thing that is actually causing such a major block in your ability to practice witchcraft isn’t a lack of time, it’s actually a lack of self-compassion. By constantly comparing yourself to other people and getting down on yourself about how you can’t, or you’re not good enough, or you’ll never be a real witch because… you’re adding a huge amount of judgment and shame to your life and your craft.

In all honesty, this kind of negative self-talk takes up a ton of time and energy! That’s time and energy that you could be putting toward literally anything else, like, ya’know… witchcraft. Rather than spending a bunch of time and energy beating yourself up for not being a good enough witch, why not make ANY amount of witchcraft a win?

The key is to start small. Instead of fitting an hour-long ritual into your daily life, try sneaking in a few minutes of magical activity here and there. Regularly writing down your thoughts in a journal that you keep near your bed or planning out a few quick spells can be just as powerful as doing full-fledged rituals. Just because it’s not big or flashy doesn’t mean that it doesn’t count! Start counting absolutely every magical moment, even 10 seconds of tuning into the energy of a room, as real witchcraft and you’ll likely find that you’re already doing way more than you thought.

You can also try to make small tasks magical. Channeling your energy toward something small can help increase the power of your spellwork and ritual work significantly. Even doing ssimple things like taking care of plants or wearing particular colors or jewelry that have special meaning for your practice can add an extra layer of magic to any activity.

Most importantly, give yourself permission to take breaks from witchcraft when needed—it’s ok if you don’t always find time for it! It’s more important that you take care of yourself first—and will ultimately help maintain stability and balance in both your magical and mundane life.

Where to Find Magical Time in Your Schedule

You don’t need to give up on living a magical life just because you don’t have the time to focus on witchcraft. With some creativity, you can find a few moments here and there to fit in magical practices but again, the key is to approach this with self-compassion. You may not be able to find time every day. Even one extra moment of focus on your craft during the week counts as a win!

Start by mapping out your weekly schedule. Take a look at the hours you spend on work and other responsibilities. Think of what small changes you can make in order to create space for witchy activities—even if it’s only five or ten minutes here and there.

For example:

Wake up 10 minutes earlier for a morning tarot card pull

Take a short meditation break during lunch

Spend half an hour listening to an audiobook or podcast before bed or during your commute

Fit in manifestation sessions or spell casting during study breaks

You’ll soon find that you are able to fit in small doses of ritual and these small moments can really add up!

Finally, if even these small moments still don’t seem to be enough, look into creative ways to practice and immerse yourself in the world of witchcraft. From joining online communities to taking classes or workshops, to learning from books, there are plenty of ways to enrich and add depth to your craft that don’t have to take up a ton of time.

At the end of the day, carving out a successful magical practice requires a bit of ingenuity and flexibility. Don’t feel bad if you can’t meet the expectations of a glitzy witchy lifestyle—start with small changes and over time, you’ll be able to gradually create a more grassroots and fulfilling magical practice.

Establishing a Daily Practice

You might not think you can make time for a daily practice of witchcraft, particularly if you have a demanding job or too many responsibilities. But it’s actually easier than it sounds—you don’t need to do something elaborate. All it takes is a little bit of effort and the right mindset.

To establish a daily practice, start by carving out just a few minutes each day for yourself. This could be during your lunch break, when you wake up, or before bed—it doesn’t matter when, as long as it works for your schedule.

Here are some simple steps to get you started:

Choose something that resonates with you—this could be divination, writing, or meditation.

Create an easily accessible space where you can set up everything you need for your chosen practice. Not having to do any setup or put things away every single day takes a LOT of the burde out of this process and makes you much more likely to return to it regularly.

Be flexible. If something in your life changes, let your practice change with it. Consistency requires that you keep the reality of your life in mind! Sometimes schedules change, your energy levels change, and what you need and want from your practice changes. Switch from mornings to evenings when you need to, let yourself do a tarot pull instead of meditation sometimes, and build ease into the practice.

Finally, BE COMPASSIONATE WITH YOURSELF. Did you miss a day? That’s fine, life happens. You missed a week? No sweat, that’s life. Get back to it when you’re ready just stop agonizing over not doing things exactly right all the time. You can become a perfectly good witch even if you get it “right” less than half the time! You are good enough.

What Do You Do If You’re Short On Time And Not Sure Where To Start?

I get it. You’re busy, you have a million responsibilities, and finding time to practice witchcraft is one thing but you don’t even know what to DO with that time when you manage to find it.

Make Figuring It Out The Goal

If you have no idea where to start, the first thing you should do with the time you do manage to carve out is figure out where to start. Literally. That is a perfectly good goal to begin with. This could mean something like spending 15 minutes a day reading about witchcraft or spending a few minutes writing about what you actually want to do with your craft. It’s ok to spend a few weeks or even months just getting the lay of the land and figuring out where you want to focus your energies first. Witchcraft is a huge and incredibly varied subject and nobody expects you to just jump straight in and know exactly what you’re doing.

Start With What Interests You

It’s important to focus on what really resonates with you when it comes to your craft. Pick one thing that speaks to you the strongest and start there—maybe you begin by studying astrology or learning spells—and go from there. This way, you don’t feel overwhelmed with all the options out there and can concentrate on mastering that one thing first before moving on to something else. It doesn’t really matter what you pick as long as it’s something that piques your interest, there’s really no “correct” order to learn things in.

Learn from Others

No one ever said that mastering a magical practice had to be done alone. Reach out to experienced practitioners and those knowledgeable in witchcraft to pick up tips and learn from their experiences. Don’t be afraid to ask questions and to open up about your own struggles—not only will it help you to get perspective on things but it will also create a sense of community among those who have similar interests and goals.

If you want someone to help you learn witchcraft in a more structured way that takes a lot of the guesswork out of it, look on a site like Udemy.

Track Your Progress

Finally, make sure to keep track of your progress. This doesn’t have to be complicated; it can take no more than writing a few words in your journal each day or creating a spreadsheet or digital document to track your spells, rituals, divination, and other activities related to your practice. Write down all of your wins, big and small. In fact, especially write down the small wins! Remember that those little moments add up and they DO count.

By tracking your progress, you’ll be able to easily refer back to your successes, what worked and what didn’t. And on days when things seem to be hitting a dead end, you’ll be able to look at the progress you’ve made and remind yourself of how far you’ve come.

By integrating these tips into your magical practice, you’ll be well on your way to mastering witchcraft despite life’s little hiccups and obstacles.

When life gets overwhelming, don’t forget that you can still practice witchcraft. It doesn’t have to be an in-depth practice or a lengthy ritual – it can be a five-minute positive affirmation every morning or lighting a white candle every night before bed. While it’s important to build a strong foundation of knowledge and practice, a lot of times the simplest techniques are the most powerful.

Remind yourself that you are in control and have the power to shape your life. Invest in yourself and create a personalized practice that works for you, but remember that a little bit goes a long way. No matter how busy or stressed you might be, a few simple steps can take you a long way on your journey to mastering witchcraft.

[mrs-kmikaelson]

06| The Tribrid

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader Summary: While you busy yourself with making sure the deal with the witches runs smoothly, Klaus occupies himself by trying to figure you out. Warnings: none Words: 4.4K

Masterlist | Part 7

I walked into my house, throwing my keys on the side-table next to the door and shrugging off my jacket. I checked my watch: 2:01 PM, so Davina was still at school and wouldn't be back 'til she was done practicing with the witches. 

I just got back from lunch with Elijah where we went over the Mikaelson's terms in more detail. Genevieve had sent a witch to the Abattoir earlier like a carrier pigeon with an outline of their requests.

Pretty dramatic, if you ask me, but she was like just resurrected. She probably doesn't know how to text yet, so whatever.

After Elijah and I talked over everything, I left, telling him I'd type up the contract myself. As an immortal with plenty of time on my hands, I've gone to law school and pursued numerous careers, as I'm sure Elijah probably had, too, so there was no need to hire (compel) someone else to write this contract for us.

I made my way to my room, passing Davina's on the way which was filled with boxes and a few things placed haphazardly on the ground. My room looked a little different: pretty plain, bed parallel to the door. Normal, basically. 

I walked into my adjoining walk-in closet which was probably the most interesting thing about this room. At first glance, it looked mundane; there were some eye-catching statement pieces, but this closet otherwise just looked like a closet.

Unless you knew what to look for.

I closed the closet door for good measure and turned to the back wall, waving my hand and muttering, "Invisique saeclum." Instantly, the illusion of the wall disappear and another, smaller, more compact room was revealed.

It was lined with shelves, books stacked on top of each them. I walked closer, going to pick up the book closest to me. My grimoire. Like the rest of the books in this closet, it was dusty. I haven't needed to look for a spell in a long while. 

I placed it down on the island in the middle of the room before turning to find the other book I needed. Under a few other books, I found what I was looking for: Amelia's grimoire.

I put it down next to mine, staring at both of them. Strong nostalgia came over me. I hadn't looked at her grimoire in long time, or even my own, for that matter. Both of them should have been worn down now after all these years, but a simple preservation spell kept them in pristine condition, looking just as they had when I was younger.

My lips quirked up as I ran my hand along their covers, memories flashing before my eyes of my childhood. But as quick as the happiness came, it disappeared with the thought of how that very childhood was stolen from me.

Enough with memory lane.

I switched my focus onto the purpose of even grabbing these books, opening my grimoire and flipping through it until I found the page I was looking for. 

Illusion spells.

While I was very familiar with this type of spell, the one I wanted to perform was a little different. It was similar to the average cloaking spell, but I wanted a physical manifestation of an object: a decoy.

I wasn't stupid. I was never going to give Genevieve my aunt's grimoire. The only reason the witches wanted something so powerful was for leverage, and they weren't gonna get it. I knew all this last night, so instead of actually giving them Amelia's grimoire, I'd give them a copy.

But this copy had to feel real, tangible. Its energy needed to be able to be sensed in the same way it was with the real thing. They needed to feel like they could trust us, even if the Mikaelsons—or myself, for that matter—didn't trust them.

The thing with magic was that it worked through energy. Witches have their own special type of energy that enables them to perform spells. That's why you could practice magic without incantations; so long as the intent was there and it was strong enough, then your spell would work.

The reason why we often do use incantations is because words hold power. The history behind them holds enough energy to basically back the spell up. So, if you were using spells that weren't your own, then you would also want to use the chant because, without one, your own intent wouldn't be strong enough for the magic to pull through.

That's why I was going to change the incantations written down altogether.

At first, I was gonna exclude certain pages from Genevieve's copy completely, but then I realized that, without the powerful spells, she'd be less likely to trust us. So then I just change them so that they still made sense, but wouldn't work.

Without the written incantations that Bennetts had chanted in the past, these spells would be useless. If the words didn't hold any significance, then they were pointless.

Which was exactly my goal.

I hovered my left hand over Amelia's grimoire, hovering the other over blank space on the island. I closed my eyes and began, "Phantamogriphia decorum, appearatas veridical. Phantamogriphia decorum, appearatas veridical." After repeating this a few times, I felt the emergence of energy into the room and opened my eyes to see a book identical to Amelia's under my right hand.

I picked it up, flipping through it and stopping every once in a while to alter a spell, muttering incantations under my breath so the words on the page would appear as if they were Amelia's handwriting.

When I was done, I set it down on the island to compare it to Amelia's real grimoire. It was almost impossible to tell the difference unless you actually knew her. There was only a slight difference in the energy emitting from each book, but I knew this was fool-proof.

With a grin, I returned mine and Amelia's grimoires to their spots, bringing the cloak of the wall back. I grabbed the fake and stuffed it into my bag, tossing it onto a chair in my room. For now, I'd go type up the contract, then I'd walk over to the compound to give it to Elijah.

With that, I walked over to my office.

THIRD PERSON, THE NIGHT BEFORE

Klaus stood off to the side while his brother and his latest fixation spoke to the witches. He was silent; Elijah already warned him earlier not to cause a fuss, and the last thing he wanted was a fight with a Elijah. He had enough to deal with, this agreement included.

This evening, however, was not something he wanted.

Klaus couldn't care less if the factions tore each other apart in the streets. All of this was Elijah's doing, and so Klaus was only there to oversee it. Truth be told, he wasn't even going to show until Elijah told him Y/N was going to be there.

That caught his interest.

He couldn't figure it out, but there was something about this girl that pulled him to her. She looked familiar; he just couldn't pinpoint where he knew her from.

It seemed that others found her just as fascinating. For some reason, she had the trust of the Quarter's residents, but she wasn't going to get Klaus' trust so easily.

There was something off about her, something far greater than familiarity. And he was going to figure it out.

No matter what.

His attention was drawn away from Y/N when Genevieve cut her off. The words that came out of her mouth had stunned him.

"Esther Mikaelson's grimoire. We want Esther Mikaelson's grimoire."

Elijah's request for peace this evening suddenly went over his head. He scowled, "Are you out of your mind?"

"Niklaus-"

"I am not giving you my mother's grimoire. After what you tried to do to my family, you expect me to hand over-"

"Niklaus." Klaus stopped, turning to look at Elijah. His jaw clenched when he saw the look on his brother's face. He calmed down slightly, glancing at Y/N, wondering how she was going to talk her way out of this one.

Even as he glowered at Genevieve, he couldn't help but feel smug. There was no way out of this, and the oh so special Y/N would fail.

Or so he thought. 

Y/N declined her request, as he predicted. Genevieve went to pull out of the deal, as he predicted. What he didn't predict was what Y/N said next.

"I currently have a Bennett grimoire in my possession." His head snapped in her direction. His eyes met Elijah's who looked just as surprised as him. He glanced over at the witches who luckily didn't notice their reactions, too engulfed in shock of their own. "It's yours, so long as you accept."

The rest of the conversation became muffled to Klaus, as if he were underwater. He could tell she wasn't bluffing—that, or she was a really good liar. He suspected that both were true. So many thoughts ran through his head at once.

While he thought she must have won Elijah over with that save, this only deepened his own distrust in her. A Bennett's grimoire was extremely hard to come by. They were guarded as if they were the holy grail. If he, the Original Hybrid, wasn't able to get his hands on one, then how did a mere vampire acquire one?

And why was she giving it up like it was pocket change?

He tuned back into the conversation when all parties stood up, Y/N and Genevieve shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries that he didn't care for. As Elijah walked the witches out, Klaus didn't glance at Genevieve once, even though he felt like glaring at her whenever he saw her. Instead, his glare was directed to Y/N.

Their eyes locked, and Y/N only continued to surprise him by staring right back. She was confident, and assertive, and unfazed with every comment he threw her way. He kept trying to shake her, but she appeared to be rooted to her spot every time. This only annoyed him.

He was so focused that he didn't even notice when his brother walked back into the room. Elijah thanked her, making Y/N look away to respond. Klaus had an inkling that Elijah wouldn't bring up what just happened, so he had no choice but to be the one to do it.

"How do you have a Bennett grimoire in your possession?" He interrogated, suspicion audible in his voice. Elijah gave him a look that was ignored.

He watched Y/N's body language as she responded, looking for any signs of a lie. "I met one a few hundred years ago. She died after she was in the wrong place, wrong time, but she left that book to me."

She must take me for a fool, he thought. The nerve of her to think he'd believe that. "A Bennett witch left her grimoire with you, a vampire? Not with her family?" He enunciated each word slowly as if to emphasize his point.

A Bennett witch leaving something as valuable as her grimoire to a member of the species they hated was unheard of. 

Y/N gave an excuse, saying the witch wasn't close with her family at the time, as if that made it any more believable. "And I was human at the time so, yes, she left it to me because she knew it could come of use one day."

She showed no indication that she was lying, and if her story was real, then her excuses were reasonable. Perhaps if the story were coming from someone else, he would've rolled over and believed it. But this was coming from Marcel's supposed 'best friend,' the woman who so happened to be there the night Hayley was almost attacked, who had his brother so interested in her that he forced him to allow Marcel back into the Quarter all for the sake of a deal. This was coming from the woman who reminded him so much of a ghost from his past.

So, no, Klaus did not believe her.

Elijah, on the other hand, didn't look as vexed. He cleared his throat and changed the subject, thanking her again. Y/N turned around, making plans for another meeting. She didn't look back at Klaus once, but he was staring at her until even after she walked out the gate.

Elijah sighing broke him out of his trance. "Must you be so difficult, Niklaus?"

Klaus rolled his eyes. "If you want to turn a blind eye to all of this, then by all means. But this woman is so obviously hiding something." He reached for his scotch, downing the rest of it in one go.

"Niklaus, please-"

He cut him off, "No, Elijah—you can't honestly be telling me that you don't see what I'm seeing. She acts as if she's guilty of something-"

"Innocent until proven guilty."

Klaus scoffed. Elijah's immediate impulse to see the best in everyone could very well one day be his downfall. For some reason, he was defending Y/N, even though they both knew the only reason they really brought her in was because he saw the same things Klaus did.

Klaus shook his head. "She's not who she says she is." This time, Elijah's response didn't come as quick. He only silently maintained his stare. Little did Klaus know, his brother had doubts of his own.

Elijah's response never came. He closed the book on the conversation completely. "Good night, Niklaus." Elijah walked way, patting Klaus' shoulder as he passed him before going up the stairs. The hybrid cursed him in his head. How could he be so stupid, he thought.

He knew you were hiding something. 

And he would make it his personal job to figure out what it was.

FIRST PERSON, PRESENT

I closed my laptop, having just printed out the contract. With Marcel, contracts were never necessary; you would just trust the other person's word. But, in this new society, trust could not be guaranteed. 

I sighed, checking the time. Davina should be home any minute now.

Right on cue, I heard a knock at the door. I furrowed my brows. Didn't I give her a key?

She must have left it her by accident. Not thinking anything of it, I got up, walking to the door absentmindedly. "Hey, Dav-" my words died down in my throat once I opened the door. Standing in front of me wasn't Davina.

It was Klaus.

He coyly smiled. "Hello, Y/N. May I come in?" For a quick second, I was stunned. I wasn't expecting this at all. How did he even know I lived here? I wondered before dismissing the thought. He's Klaus Mikaelson; of course, he knows where I live.

I quickly composed myself, reciprocating his smile, only hoping that mine didn't look as fake as his. I held the door open wider. "Of course." The act of Klaus stepping over the threshold into my home almost made me sick, but I didn't dare show it on my face.

"Lovely home you have here," he said, looking around, but I doubted he was just looking out curiosity, and that compliment felt nothing like a compliment to me. What the fuck is he doing here?

I thanked him, resisting the urge to cross my arms. I learned in the few psych classes I attended that it was a sign of discomfort. I instead tried to make myself less stiff, asking myself how a normal person would act in this situation and then trying to behave that way.

"Would you like something to drink? Water, tea, Brandy....?" 

Klaus shook his head, declining. He still wasn't looking at me, continuing to stare at my house. He seemed to be searching for something, and I had an idea what it was.

Well, he wouldn't find it.

I skipped over the like five other questions I had, asking, "What brings you here?" I kept my voice light, even though he probably knew that I knew what he was doing. I was already gonna be heading over to the compound later where he would've seen me. He had no reason to be here other than to look for some sort of flaw.

Finally, Klaus looked over at me. "Elijah's currently preoccupied, so I told him I'd just come here and get what you were supposed to give to him." Bullshit. But I'd play this game. I've won far harder ones.

I reminded myself of the pact I made to myself when I left the compound yesterday, of everything I've endured over the course of my life. If I went through what I went through, then I could go through speaking to my father.

I faked nonchalance. "Right, the contract. I'll go get that right now." I went to my room, grabbing the stapled pages and Amelia's grimoire out of my bag, ignoring the fact that the hybrid could've done anything in the less than thirty seconds I left him alone. However, when I got back, he seemed to be in exact same spot, waiting patiently for my return. 

"Here," I said, handing them to both to him. He hummed, flipping through the pages—though, I doubt he was reading anything, even though the contents of the folder I just gave him were only drafted in attempts to save his city.

But I didn't have to have known Klaus long to know that this wasn't about saving anything for him. Men like him didn't save; they destroyed, and my mother raised me well enough to make sure I never forgot that.

When he closed the folder, he looked at the grimoire with a serious stare. I would've been worried that he was trying to see past my glamour had I not been as strong as I was. Nobody could see past my illusions other than myself; it's always been that way, and it'll always be that way.

Instead, I could bet he was questioning its authenticity or even my authenticity. The white lie I gave the other night was convincing enough to get me out of the compound, but since Klaus was looking for any reason to support his distrust in me, he obviously still had reservations.

Before I could continue with my train of thought, Klaus looked up at me and abruptly questioned, "Where are you from?" My brows went up. Out of all the things he could've said, that was on my list of least expected.

But I wasn't expecting any of the other things that'd happened in my life since I returned to New Orleans, either.

My first instinct was to respond, why do you ask? but that felt defensive and that was the last thing I wanted to come off as to my father. I told him what I told most people who asked. "A little bit of everywhere, I suppose." I shrugged for effect. "I was travelling at a young age due to conflicts around my family, so I was all over Europe as a child."

The suspicion Klaus so eagerly showed me the other night was tucked away. Instead, he only hummed again, but clearly he didn't believe me; otherwise, he would've left it alone, but I could never be so lucky. 

"And how old are you? If you don't mind my asking," he added, as if he cared about whether not I minded.

I didn't hesitate. "About five hundred years old, give or take."

He hummed in response, adding to my irritation, but I was much better at hiding what I was thinking than he was. Not that he was trying. "Well, I suppose I should've assumed so since the Bennett witches had fled to America around that time period." He stared me dead in the eye, a smug smile on his face but a much more serious look in his eyes. 

He was pretty close to me, close enough that I could see his eyes—and I mean really see them. They were blue with twinges of green and brown that I hadn't seen from far away before. And even though almost nothing scared the crap out of me more than the fact that his eyes looked like mine, I stared right back like I had no fears at all.

"Yeah, that's true," I agreed, but I didn't offer anything further. The only other things I could've added to this conversation to convince him I wasn't lying were facts from my personal life and that was information I wouldn't soon give up. 

I didn't know how well Klaus knew my mother before they conceived me, if he knew her best friend's name or even her own, for that matter. So there were some details I just had to keep to myself; revealing certain things may have had the ability to help me, but they could also hurt me just as easily.

That was a risk I wasn't going to take.

Klaus just kept staring at me, and I almost thought he'd never look away until the door opened. We both turned to see Davina in the doorway, keys in her hand.

Her mouth fell open slightly, eyes darting between me and the Original in our living room. Said Original broke the silence. "Ah, if it isn't the little witch."

I watched Davina swallow but still manage to glare at him. "Klaus."

Klaus held his hands up in surrender, that same "friendly" smile on his face that was anything but. "Relax, love. I come in peace." He then looked back over at me. "I was just leaving." With that, he walked toward the door. Back still turned to me, he uttered a thank you for what I gave him and wished us a wonderful night, patting Davina on the shoulder on his way out.

The teenager barely waited until Klaus was out the door to close it, looking over at me with incredulous eyes. Just as her mouth was about to open, I brought my finger to my lips, silently shushing her and pointing to my ear.

She got the message, exasperatedly sighing and running a hand through her hair while I used my hearing to listen to Klaus walk away. Once I could no longer hear his footsteps, I let my finger fall. Davina instantly let her questions loose.

"What the hell was he doing here? Why'd you let him in- no, how did he get in? What was that stuff he walked out with and why did that book look like a grimoire? Oh my God, does he know that you're a-"

I cut her off, "Davina. Slow down and I'll explain." At my interruption she paused, taking a breath. I couldn't help but be amused at her worry, even though the Devil himself had just been standing in my living room.

Once she was calm, I elaborated, summarizing the deal I'd made with Elijah and then the deal we'd just made with the witches. Although I trusted Davina, I gave her the same story I gave Klaus when it came to the grimoire. There were some things just better kept secret and, for now, Amelia Bennett and my family fell under that category.

After I'd explained everything, Davina nodded to herself, soaking it all in, muttering under her breath, "That must've been what everyone was talking about today, a deal with the Mikaelsons." She pursed her lips. "Yeah, I heard Genevieve and some others whispering something about a Bennett witch, so it must've been that."

I nodded. "Yeah, and as for Klaus being here, I let him in myself. Don't worry; the protections are fine." She finally seemed to calm down after that.

"Okay, I guess I'll just go do my homework now or something. See you, Y/N/N." I ruffled her hair as she walked past me, getting a faux angry pout that didn't last long before a smile started to form on her lips. Like her happiness was contagious, the corners of my lips upturned, too.

It was good to see her happy, busying herself with things like homework. That's what teens should be doing, not hiding away in attics, isolated from humanity. Death shouldn't have even crossed her mind but I knew that, living in the world we lived in, that wasn't an option.

In spite of that, I would do my best to preserve her childhood for as long as I could. There was no one there to do that for me, and I'd be damned if I would just stand by and watch as hers was stolen from her.

Davina meant too much to me to allow that to happen, but even so, there were still things about me that she didn't know. There were things about me that no one knew, no matter how close to me they'd gotten.

No one knew I was Klaus' daughter, no one but Amelia, my mother, and the person who killed her.

At that thought, my mood became sour, but instead of drowning in my own self-pity, I blocked the thoughts completely. I couldn't afford to be in New Orleans with Klaus Mikaelson watching my every move and to also think about that part of my past.

So I pulled out my phone and dialled until Cellie's voice filled my ear, "Hey, what's up?"

"Hey, let's go out. We can hit up that new club downtown. And call Cami up, too; we can all go and just have fun."

"Not that I oppose this in anyway, but what brought up this spontaneousness?"

"Nothing," I lied. "I just want to have a night-out on the town. C'mon, Marcel; don't be boring."

He gave in, "Alright, alright, fine. I'll call Cami."

I grinned. "Great; meet at my place." Before he could say anything else, I hung up on him. This was just the sort of thing I needed, to go out like everything was normal.

I rushed to go get ready, pushing all thoughts of Klaus and my past to the back of my mind. For one night, just one, I wanted to feel like myself again.

Ever since I got back to New Orleans, I've felt like this shell of myself. Around the Originals, I felt like little-kid-me. All of these memories and thoughts that I've worked to repress have just been resurfacing, and so, for one night, I just want to feel like myself again. That'll help me get it all together.

I was gonna go out tonight, not as a Mikaelson, but as a Y/L/N.

And after that, I was gonna bury Y/N Mikaelson for good.

Taglist: @scrynexxtins @thisnameistaken1234 @honestlycasualarcade @xlittlestarling @thatgirljas13

[loremaster]

happy belated mermay! i drew that final pic after i went with my family to the new england aquarium recently, and picked out something they had there for each of the nocturnal detectives - plus kurumi! more description (spoilers) under the cut:

kurumi - piranha! it fits her color scheme, and her little freckles… and well, you know *bites you*

yuma - emperor tetra. actually i lied this one wasn’t at the aquarium i had to look it up

yakou - anemone man. ouughhh so sillyyyy

desuhiko - tried to ID the guy I took a picture of and it looked closest to the crosshatch butterflyfish. could be wrong though.

halara, fubuki - i could not find the labels for either of these fish unfortunately

vivia - electric eel (yeah he’s there, look again)

———-

the mermaids were kinda based off these species, except fubuki changed to a betta fish. bred for glamour, not for function. she is out there living her best life tho!!! nothin gets this mermaid princess down!!!!

obviously squid shinigami (squidigami) is based off ursula. but also i liked her having squid tentacle hair. woomy!

i imagine it would actually be kind of a reverse ursula situation though (reversula?). poor unfortunate amnesiac yuma would go up to sea witch shinigami asking her for his memories back, but she reveals she was the one who took his memories in the first place, and they’ve actually already made a deal. which she’s not going back on, sorrynotsorry lol!!! of course he’s actually not a mermaid at all but a human under a spell to go investigate…. something underwater. idk. maybe the mystery labyrinths are still a thing in this universe?

vivia, i’m sorry to say, would be a hundred times more miserable than we ever see him in canon, because guess what. no books. he’d still have some sort of coping mechanisms like watching other fish, watching stuff above the surface of the water, wanting nothing more to join them and fly someday. (the dragonflies, of course, are a reference to the famous water bugs and dragonflies story.) he’d still find something to get distracted by… although if he had his forte he probably would ghost up to the surface and read whatever the humans are reading up above. i guess this would make him the real ariel of the story.

kurumi of course is still based on a piranha, because it’s cute. of course these fish shouldn’t all live together but whatever. it’s mermaids. she probably is still some kind of informant, and probably hangs out near yakou’s place a bunch.

i could see yakou running some sort of shop. or if he’s still into detective work, he’d probably need kurumi as an assistant since he’s uh. not much of a swimmer. (he claims he can too swim, but it’s really silly looking. google swimming anemone. you’ll thank me.) he considers those little teeny fish to be pests (or at least claims they are. they’re probably helping him hide some sort of secret in there.)

desuhiko is a wandering trader with a keen sense of fashion. he’s great at repurposing sunken sails into mer-clothing, not so great at making sales. also the fact that his hair is gelled is way more obvious when everything is underwater. he’s basically got a helmet.

halara of course puts up an intimidating front, but has a secret soft spot for cute sea creatures. i asked my irl friend what she’d consider ‘the cat of the sea’ and she said pufferfish. i do think they are very cute and make a lot of sense as an allergen. but i don’t think halara’s taste is limited to pufferfish only, no no no. they like anything cute.

fubuki has got to have been kept captive before the story - by humans? or other mermaids? but either way, now she’s free and having a blast exploring the deep blue ocean. she really wants to know what kind of exciting creatures live in the deep!!!

and that’s it. hopefully all this description makes up for being 2 days late to mermay LMAO. i guess now it’s merGAY

[bulkyphrase]

De-Aged Steve Rogers - a fic rec list

Some of my favorite stories featuring Steve (and sometimes others) turned into a child or younger adult.

Chase All The Clouds From The Sky by written by IndigoNight, with podfic read by reena_jenkins (@jeminamoonnight, @reena-jenkins) (Gen, General Audiences, 15,421 words)

Summary: Magic is the worst. The Avengers are prepared to deal with a wide variety of crises, but an abruptly six-year-old Steve Rogers is not one of them. Especially not when their resident Rogers-expert is reluctant to cross the Winter Soldier-sized gap separating him from his miniaturized best friend.

5 Times an Avenger Realized They Don't Know Steve + 1 Time One Did by WendyDarling95 (@cap-is-bi) (Samsteve, Teen And Up Audiences, 22,876 words)

Summary: A witch sends Steve back mentally and physically to who he was in 1941, and now the Avengers are starting to realize that while they've known Captain America for years now, they may never have met Steve Rogers. Takes place in 2016 5 chapters of an Avenger realizing Steve is more than he seems + 1 where someone knows him very well

More below the cut!

Baby Steve Adventures by catty_the_spy (@cattythespy) (Gen, General Audiences, 2,955 words)

Summary: Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him. Also available as a podfic read by blackglass

The Adventures of Not-So-Baby Steve by catty_the_spy (@cattythespy) (Gen, General Audiences, 2,070 words)

Summary: Steve's adjusting to not being a baby. Everyone else is adjusting too.

Small, Not Stupid by @rsadelle (Gen, General Audiences, 346 words)

Summary: Bucky's not going to let the kid fall - even if it weren't a tiny version of his former best friend, he wouldn't do that - but he's not real thrilled about having a small version of his former best friend - who he hasn't seen in seventy years - clinging to him.

The Kids Weren’t Alright by lettered (@letteredlettered) (Gen, Teen And Up Audiences, 56,199 words)

Summary: Tony accidentally turns himself into a twelve-year-old using alien tech. Steve is stuck as bodyguard, Bruce is stuck trying to fix him, and Pepper is stuck trying to ward off a twelve-year old’s attempts at flirtation. And then things go from bad to worse.

For I Am Crystal Chrome by IamShadow21, kath_ballantyne (@iamshadow21) (Gen, Teen And Up Audiences, 8,116 words)

Summary: “Don't touch that,” he forces out, his throat as rough as gravel. “Don't.” “Okay,” the person says, and doesn't try to pull out of Tony's grasp. “Okay, I won't.” Tony sucks in a sharp breath and opens his eyes. “You're American. The terrorists got you, too?” The man he's holding on to is young, very young. He's slender and frail looking with a pale, wan face, and Tony would know him anywhere. “Terrorists?” Steve Rogers asks, with confusion. “Oh shit, I really am dead, and there's an afterlife, and it sucks,” Tony moans.

Mixed-Ages Classroom by harcourt (@haforcere) (Gen, Not Rated, 5,114 words)

Summary: For this prompt, where the Avengers are de-aged, but to different ages; Clint & Tony to young children (below 10), Bruce to a toddler (whose tantrums involve hulking out to bb!hulk), Natasha & Steve back to teenagers (with scrawny!Steve). In which Hulk is a baby, Natasha and Steve know they aren't real teenagers, Clint and Tony behave badly, and Maria Hill is not a parent but Coulson might be. Also available as a podfic read by blackglass

The Tactical Applications of Caramel Apples and Ring-Tailed Lemurs by @caffienekitty (Gen, General Audiences, 2,342 words)

Summary: Loki de-ages Captain America. This is not the best idea he's ever had, but he can work with it.

Meet Tomorrow If You Choose by Dira Sudis (@dsudis) (Samsteve, Explicit, 9,440 words)

Summary: "Not quite like the other me, huh," Steve said, because there was no point pretending. "Nah, actually I was thinking I can see it," Sam said. "The way you stand--you project, you know? Like in a way you really always were the big guy, just your body took a while to catch up."

De-Aged Steve Rogers by @sabrecmc (Stony, Not Rated, 8,458 words)

Summary: Steve gets de-aged and clings to Tony

Second Childhood by @navaan (Stony, General Audiences, 2,006 words)

Summary: Steve and Tony get de-aged and it brings some problems, but maybe it gives them a chance to start over.

Smells Like Teen Spirit by @jenthesweetie (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 7,363 words)

Summary: Because that’s what the magic explosion had done: it had turned all of his friends into hormonal, pimpled, unbelievably obnoxious teenagers. When he called Fury to ask for advice, Fury laughed, hung up on him, called him back just to laugh some more, and then said, “If nobody’s dying, Stark, I really don’t care” and hung up again. Tony wondered vaguely who he had pissed off, besides all the usual suspects. This felt more as though he’d pissed somebody off in, like, a cosmic way.

Clint Barton And The Adventures In Terror Twin Rearing by @attackofthezee (General Audiences, 3,074 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: “Maybe it’s aliens.” Steve hisses at Barnes. “Aliens don’t look like people Steve.” Barnes says with all the surety of an eleven year old. And ho boy, does Clint kind of want to introduce this version of these two to Thor. In which Steve and Bucky are somehow turned into their ten and eleven year old selves and Clint Barton is somehow nominated to take care of them. It goes about as well as can be expected. Also available as a podfic read by quietnight (@quietnighty)

They Could Never Be the Same by ABrighterDarkness (@alwaysabrighterdarkness) (Thundershield, Teen And Up Audiences, 1,234 words)

Summary: The situation at hand being a magically-miniaturized Steve Rogers who had hardly spoken a word but followed either Thor or Natasha around like a tiny shadow ever since they’d been released from Medical. SHIELD medical were, of course, every bit as shocked to have the Avengers show up en masse to deliver an apparently four-year-old Captain America to get checked over.

[ladyloveandjustice]

Anime Expo Final Day: Q & A and Live Draw with Witch Hat Atelier's Kamome Shirahama

Sunday was not as bad as Saturday crowd wise, but still a bit hard to deal with.

I got into the second Witch Hat Atelier panel, which was a live draw with Kamome Shirahama! We weren't allowed to take pics of her of course, and she came in the Iguin cosplay and somehow managed to draw in it, but I did get to take a pic of the brush buddy:

And here's the live drawing she did (Quifrey by audience demand) which we were allowed to photograph.

I was taking notes throughout the panel but then the notes app just decided to stop working and I lost it all. But I did write down everything I remembered immediately after, so here we go:

When asked, Shirahama said her influences were American and French comics in addition to manga. She mentioned Akira and the French comic Mobius, as well as a French comic with "cities" in the title I couldn't catch.

EDIT: (According to gaston26 in the comments: "I think she talked about French comics artist Moebius and the french comics with cities in the title is most likely 'Les Cités obscures'. ;)" That sounds right!)

She says she was inspired by the art style and diversity of American comics. She was also inspired by children’s literature like The Neverending Story.

When asked about the diversity in her story, she quickly said that the diversity was intentional and the fact that its even a question shows that we need more diversity. She said, "Nobody would ask this if it was just a romance between a boy and a girl or something like that, so it shows there needs to be more".

When asked how she feels about Quifrey being so popular, she mentioned that Quifrey was going to be a villain but his design was so good she promoted him to a main character.

She stated that she tries to write a story her younger self would read, but she says she was a “twisted kid” so as a child she’d be saying things like “a Pegasus with those feathers wouldn’t be able to fly!”

When asked about the magic system she said she was still actually trying to learn the magic system herself.

She talked about magic as a metaphor for creativity and said her audience is very creative so she feels they could relate. She always wanted to write a fantasy. She mentioned again that she had a mangaka friend early on and that it really made her appreciate what goes into making art and got her thinking in that direction.

She stated that there are no real villains in her story, just people.

When asked about how she comes up with names, she said she “asks Google”. She wanted names where her character would be the only one that comes up in the google search. Early on, with names like Coco and Agott, she didn’t do this, but it made her mad when other things would come up in the google search. When asked if she was inspired by any sort of ethnicity/culture for characters, she asked to pick one, and was asked about Kustas. She said that was a tough question and eventually said she took inspiration from Rome and also indigenous Japanese cultures for him.

She said she doesn’t use screentone because she’s "lazy" and prefers to work with her ink pen. When asked about her assistants she said they are the best ones at doing speed lines, which she’s "bad" at.

She said Quifrey and Olruggio were partly inspired by people she knows- not in looks, but in personality. She said traits like being strict on the outside and sweet on the inside (I imagine she's referring to Olruggio there) were inspired by those people she used as models.

She also mentioned that she draws very fast!

And that's about all I got down.

After that, the day was kind of rough, as I temporarily lost my wallet but fortunately someone eventually turned it in to lost and found. I went to Little Tokyo and attended the pop up Akiba Maid War café there. I got a Ranko cookie! The maid who served us mentioned the cafe's rivals like the poison the drinks and did the spell thing. We got a singing performance where both our maid and the woman playing Manager danced, with Manager intentionally doing it very badly. It was fun!

And that's all for my con report! Hope there was some interesting info! I'll be posting cosplay I saw and art and merch I got later.