#jhazel

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Whumpril 2023 - Day 25

Thank you @comfy-whumpee!! I was so excited to write this and get to borrow Jhazel!! Mariano would do anything for her, it turns out, and no one is surprised.

TWs: violence, human shield

Heart Racing | On the Run | “We’re being watched.”

It was always nice to visit Jhazel's cottage whenever they were in the area. The forest was beautiful, and the air always felt healing. How much of that could be chalked up to Mariano's increased sensitivity to magic was still up for debate, but he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

Jhazel was wonderful company, too. She'd welcomed himself and Bastian into her home when they'd first met, helped get a deep wound tended to, and didn't ban them when the people who'd caused it showed up again. She understood what it felt like to have a history that you were trying to improve past.

Naturally, this meant that when they visited, Mariano and Bastian insisted on helping out as much as they could to make her coming weeks a little easier. Cutting firewood, helping prune the garden, helping with any canning that needed to be done, the mundane work was safe and familiar. Both of them took a sense of peace from it.

That didn't mean they were oblivious though, even surrounded by the safe, nurturing magic of the forest.

Mariano saw the subtle shift in Bastian's posture as himself and Jhazel worked in the garden. The set of Bastian's shoulders became firmer. His rhythm of splitting wood only slowed just a hair.

Mariano felt it too. A prickling at the back of his neck that sent tension creeping up his arms. "We're being watched." Mariano whispered as Jhazel nodded. She closed her eyes, and the smell of her magic--and the forest's--began wafting through the air.

In an instant, Mariano saw ten figures descend on the little cottage. "Get the witch!" They declared, triumphant and eager.

Mariano jumped to his feet, pulling his sword from his sheathe. He couldn't light his blade up with his magic, not here in the forest. Bastian couldn't shift either, not without risking harm to the trees and plants. That was alright though, he thought as he parried one swing and rent a horrific gouge into the man's side.

He needed to stay close to Jhazel. His own armor wasn't the best, mostly being leather, but it was better than not having armor at all like their gracious host. "Get inside!" Mariano shouted to Jhazel, grunting as his sword's hilt caught another strike from someone new. "We'll hold them off!"

Jhazel didn't make a move for her door though, only standing as the earthy smell of the magic of the forest intensified further. The wind almost seemed to shift as someone fell, catching a thrown hunk of firewood to the temple. Her magic was powerful, far stronger than Mariano's could hope to be. It seemed to require so much focus--but she knew what she was doing. He had to trust her.

Howls echoed through the brush, distant but getting closer.

Mariano finally overpowered his immediate opponent, sending him stumbling backwards. One more slash of his sword made sure that he stayed down. The wind picked up, the birds going quiet. All he had to do was guard their host. He could do that.

Bastian barely had a chance to shout before magic crackled past Mariano's face. The hair on the back of his neck rose as the smell of pure winter whizzed just in front of his nose. A mage.

Mariano whipped around, locking eyes with the most dangerous opponent in that clearing.

As a third swordsman charged in, and three more converged on Bastian, the mage fired another blast. This one clipped Mariano's shoulder, pulling a breathless gasp from him as he was sent sprawling away from Jhazel from a sword swing. The winter's grip made it even harder to keep his hold on his blade, to keep his coordination. He rolled to his hands and knees, managing to block another swing before it connected with his neck.

Jhazel had the final two swordsmen charging at her when the howls pierced the air again. Massive shapes tore through the brush, flashing teeth and snarling as they leaped to intercept the attackers. The men were brought to the ground with shouts, pinned beneath the massive wolves.

Mariano didn't get a chance to see if they were spared. The opposing mage had started to close the distance with Jhazel, brilliant light shining at their palms. She was a powerful mage, but Mariano knew how strong of a spell that was going to be.

The man struggling with him knocked his sword from his hands, and Mariano only just managed to keep his balance and break away from his fight.

There was no time to think. She'd done so much. She'd been so kind. Mariano couldn't let her get hit.

He barely noticed the wolves sprinting towards the last two targets, he barely heard Bastian roaring as he smashed his third swordsman into the ground. All Mariano could see was the horrible shine intensifying and the tell-tale finger twitch of a cast being completed.

"No!"

In a flash, in an eternity, in silence, in cacophony, Mariano only just managed to get in front of Jhazel.

A cold more pervasive than even healing magic cracked through Mariano's body as the spell from that mage hit home. He couldn't even scream as it ripped straight through his leather armor and clothes without being buffered by any of it. It sank into his chest like the rush of an icy lake and latched its teeth into his lungs. He dropped to the grass, breathlessly curling into himself as his limbs locked up.

Two more wolves took down the mage and final swordsman. Quiet descended again. As quickly as it started, it was over.

The intense smell of forest magic eased. Hands that felt like they were on fire pressed to his neck. "Bastian, help me get him inside." Jhazel? That was her voice. She sounded focused. She sounded okay.

Bastian's worried voice sounded next, and larger, even warmer hands carefully lifted him up. "That was some awful spell--you have a cure or something?" He asked, and Mariano curled into his hold, voice stolen by how tense his throat felt.

Jhazel didn't answer, instead the clinking of her rummaging through cabinets filled the little cottage. "Toss some more firewood into the fireplace." She said. "There's no cure for cold magic like that, just like there are no cures for any burning that your fire causes. But we aren't helpless."

Water filled what Mariano dimly recognized as a kettle, and the smell of wood starting to catch filled the air around him. Mariano tried to open his eyes, catching the blurry shape of Bastian's hair sparkling around his face.

"Sit, Bastian, right there. That chair should get plenty warm when this fire gets going." Jhazel said, as calm and unflappable as ever. "We'll get some color back in him soon."

The gentle clank of the kettle being hung over the fire told Mariano that tea was probably getting made. Her footsteps left, as Bastian adjusted his hold on Mariano. His legs were draped over Bastians, and both of his dragon's arms looped around his waist. When a blanket was draped over Mariano and tucked in around him, Jhazel finally seemed to be satisfied.

She sat beside Bastian in her own chair, one hand reaching to tug the blanket more securely around Mariano's knees as silence fell. The crackle of fire and warmth slowly seeping back into Mariano's skin lulled him. He let his head fully rest against Bastian's shoulder, eyes drifting closed. Everything was still too tense, it was too painful to even think about moving more than absolutely necessary, but as the minutes wore on that began to ebb.

"That was...brave of you to do." Jhazel said, when she pulled the kettle from the fire and started pouring the tea into a mug. "Here, Bastian, help him drink." She said, and Mariano felt Bastian's arms shift. Warm, spiced tea was brought to his lips. As he sipped, it started to thaw out some of the ice that still seemed hell-bent on eating through his vocal cords.

He sighed when Bastian pulled the mug away, and one of Jhazel's hands patted his knee. "I would have been alright, if that magic had hit me." She spoke gently, as though she didn't want to discount what he'd done. "...Thank you, though, Mariano."

It was easier to look at Jhazel this time, even as his aching body protested the small smile he gave her. "...Always." He managed. "You kept...kept us safe before. Wanted to return the favor."

Jhazel laughed, so gently that Mariano almost thought he imagined it. "Next time," She said. "You can just get me some preserves from wherever you've been."

Mariano nodded, smiling despite the gentle chiding. He'd make sure to remember her request. It wouldn't stop him from taking another hit for her if it was necessary, but...a little gift couldn't ever hurt, either.

[comfy-whumpee]

1: Young and Old

Whumptober 2022 #1. @bloodybrambles, @wildfaewhump, @lektric-whump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @avian-american

None of this was supposed to happen. They were nineteen. Nineteen. They were still earning their degree. They were on placement. They beat the other applicants to a prestigious internship. They observed cutting-edge research. They…

“You found out she was alive.”

The words cut off their rant, and Spencer nods, smiling without humour. “I mean, she is a plant. But. More alive.”

“A dryad is not a plant,” the elder witch admonishes her, amused. Her one eye glints in the sunlight, dark and somehow russet brown. “But I understand the distinction. While plants have voices, they are not sentient as we are. They feel no pain or sadness.”

“Well, that’s good to know, ‘cause I’m pretty sure my Venus flytrap is dead.”

Jhazel laughs, but there is pity in her voice when she tells them, “Perhaps less dead than you think, given your abilities. But carry on. Tell me how you came to know her.”

Spencer sits back in the wicker armchair, listening to it creak. The witch’s cottage was full of old furniture like this, but everything was covered in handmade blankets dyed deep, rich colours, softened by countless hands. The plants arrayed along the windowsill in tiny, mismatched pots gave the air a fresh scent, carried in by the gentle breeze that ruffled the tall trees outside. Jhazel was leaning against the counter of the open kitchen, a mug between her hands, in which was tea that she wasn’t drinking.

“She talked. Picked up words, argued with how they were treating her. I was on the night shift a lot of the time, alone, bored, so I talked back. They said she was just mimicking, like a parrot, but… She used words in different ways to how she’d heard them, and she made her own sentences.”

“You heard her voice.”

“I saw her, she’d say. Many looking, but only me seeing.”

Jhazel inclines her head, accepting the distinction.

“They noticed that she talked to me, so I got… It was kind of a promotion. But not really. A lot of pressure to stay on-site and not go home, obviously it all had to be secret, the research, and then…”

They break off. They pull their glasses off to rub their eyes, dislodging strands of dark hair that fell in dull straggles over their brow, overlong and dry from weeks of nothing but astringent chemical soap. Jhazel has a cream for that, and she makes a mental note to send Spencer home with some.

“Then they decided I was too important…” they force out, dry voice cracking with the effort.

The witch inhales a breath that tastes of her forest. The child sits on her armchair, wrapped in one of her homespun blankets and pale with the effort of not crying, and still doesn’t understand.

“I believe they recognised that you had magic,” she eases the words into the air. “I’m not sure how. But what they did to you was to try and access it, just as they did with Silver Birch. When I came for you, it was because I sensed it too. The earth magic I wield is natural-born, but the dryads strengthen me. You have your own too, and Silver Birch woke it.”

Spencer’s face is a knot of conflict. Disbelief battles wonder. So young and so embittered already.

“You may never have noticed if not for your proximity to her. But there is a reason she chose you.”

“Wish she hadn’t,” Spencer grumbles. “I got…” They cut off without finishing and shake their head roughly. “It’s fine. I fucking deserved it.”

Jhazel doesn’t see the point of arguing with them. She is often called a wise woman, but no counsellor. “Then consider your penance paid. Ask yourself which path you will follow next.”

Sensing the meaning behind the platitude, Spencer turns hunched shoulders to look out of the window, where ancient trees as tall as houses stand around the cottage like sentries, and some of them, not trees at all. Amongst them, Jhazel feels the eddies and gusts of dryadic power, spinning through branches, rustling leaves, and some, clustering at the window to feel out the presence of their new guest.

“Well,” she declares, rising to her feet and handing Spencer the mug of tea. “Drink that. You need strength. And I,” she smiles, eyes flashing bright, “need a protegee.”

[jvhazel]

🍨#Jhazel https://www.instagram.com/p/B2KOP5GBcPq/?igshid=ibaj79yz2857

[babaengmadaldal]

Halos kakagising ko lang HAHAHAHAHA umaga na rin ako nakauwi kanina tangina, dun na ako natulog kila Jhencel at sobrang wasted namin ni Jhazel aba? Sinusumpa ko ulit 'yang lambanog na 'yan at ganun pa rin epekto sa'kin e. Sumusuka pa rin ako gago??? Red Horse na lang para sasayaw na lang ako hahahahaha cute ko diba? Char pero ayun, iba't iba talaga yung epekto ng alak sa'kin.

Anyway, 'di naman ako napagalitan ng nanay ko. Nagtanong lang siya kung bakit dun kami natulog. Sabi ko, secreeeeeeeet HAHAHAHAHAHA ramdam kong hanggang bukas yung hangover na 'ito. Yawq nha. Ubos na rin pera ko tangina. Ung paybhandred mo gawin nating wanhandred na lang, ask me how. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

[oscarcabrera]

Satisfactoria negociación salarial entre la UABCS y su sindicato administrativo

Satisfactoria negociación salarial entre la UABCS y su sindicato administrativo

Con la firma del convenio de revisión salarial entre el rector de la Universidad Autónoma de Baja California Sur (UABCS), Dr. Dante Salgado González, y la secretaria general del Sindicato Único de Trabajadores Administrativos (SUTAUABCS), Lic. Jhazel Sinaí de Anda Olachea, ambas partes llegaron a un arreglo satisfactorio previo al cierre de este año. (more…)

[jongtaekwoon]

do you have any vixx blogs u follow that u could recommend to me? preferably ones that only post vixx

ah there’s a lot great vixx blogs in here! but here are some i reblog from a lot and love their content ^_^

@ottokaji-vixx - Agata was one of the first blogs i followed! Her gifs are high quality and her blog is amazing & sweet just like her~

@hakyunie - amazing blog too, with lots of nice gifs and reblogs mostly vixx stuff 

@hong-buns - Anna posts high quality content and all her tags are hilarious~ Also her gifs are always funny and cute ;;

@1eohyuk - where would i be without Nem T^T she posts a lot great content and loves leohyuk :’) @leohyukprincess is her writing blog that u should follow if u can handle smut/amazing fics i literally love all her fics okay T___T

@thumbeli-n-a - B is my sweet child who posts a bunch of vixx and is super friendly

@xxinkeyxx - they posts really nice edits! and are mostly a vixx blog too

@wontaec - Mila’s blog is filled with yummy wontaek/vixx and her blog is great ;;

@ntheonlycha - they don’t post regularly but you should def check their blog out if you’re interested in reading the best wontaek fics here!! 

@softleo - Jhazel’s blog is filled with vixx and her tags/posts are gold tbh

@fake-v - mostly vixx in Z’s blog but gosh another hilarious Starlight in here with an amazing personality ;u;

@chained-up-taekwoon - Xenia reblogs a bunch of vixx and also makes pretty gifs~

@leejaehwan - posts a lot of vixx and great blog to get info/updates on Jaehwan~~

@wonsiks-hamster-taek - gif content creator and her blog is really nice~

@leothevixxn - their blog is filled with vixx! and their writing blog @tuberc-leo-fics has amazing/funny/heart-wrenching vixx fics ;;A;;

@vixxti - one of my favorite vixx artists whose work i love a lot!!

@at-taekwoons-mercy - even though Angeline is in semi-hiatus her blog is great! and filled with lots of vixx

@ch-y - Apple’s gifs/edits are so high quality and their content is everything @vixx-otps which is amazing for all your otp needs and filled with juicy content 

@hakyeon-go-go - Trish is a sweetheart and her blog is mostly vixx content

@wonshiks-tiddy - they post a bunch of vixx and are super entertaining

@chahakyeo - their blog is so pretty and they make amazing vixx content!

@saltykong - Riri’s gifs are so nice ;~~; and her blog is adorably filled with vixx/hongbin

@royalbins - Elouise is another great hongbin biased blog that i love a lot and her gifs are super nice!

@hyukbinnie - multifandom but there’s a lot of great vixx content in their blog and their gifs are high quality ;;u;;

@boopshik - another multifandom blog but they post a lot of great vixx stuff and i like their gifs a lot as well 

@bfwonsik - for all your ravi updates! 

@prince-taekwoon - for all your leo updates!

@translatedvixx - must follow to keep up with vixx updates and they translate their stuff super fast. I’m so thankful ;;A;;

@fywontaek - i made this blog for wontaek and make gifs in there too :)

[softleo]

happy birthday jhazel! hope everything's going well for you 💕💕💕

serweiiiiiii thank u so much!!!! good luck with uni and everything 😘💞

[chiyoanna]

DECEMBER 17, 2017

Mahal ko. Let you show me your world, i know partly masasaktan ako pero kaylangan kong malaman kase isa yan sa mga bumuo sa buhay mo e. Kaya nasasaktan ako kase sobrang mahal lang talaga kia at ayaw na kitang mawala sa buhay ko. :) Mahal na mahal kita cheychey :) walang madali o mahirap na daan. Ayaw kong tumambay sa comfort zone ko. Ayaw ko ng mag isa. Gusto kita makasama sa buhay ko for the rest of my life. Di ko ginagawa to para sakin lang. Ginagawa ko to para sating dalawa, dahil alam ko pareho tayong sasaya sa isat isa. Matulog kna mahimbing mahal ko. Dahil pag gising mas mahal pa kita compare kahapon  sorry kung nakikita mokong malungkot, naiinis, nagtatampo, at nagagalit. Di ko naman maeexperience yon kung hindi kita mahal e. At never pumasok sa isip kong iwan ka or humanap pa ng mas better pa sayo, dahil alam ko sa sarili ko. Yung best person sa buhay ko andito na sa buhay ko at ayaw ko na pakawalan pa. Ipaglalaban ko ang pagmamahal ko sakanya dahil deserve niya sumaya kasama ko. Joanna Jhazel (cheychey, choanna cheyzel, mahal ko) mahal na mahal kita. I really love you with all my heart my body and my soul. I really love you so much (heto nanaman ako naiiyak nanaman ako, iyakin na talaga ako, ikaw ang nagpalabas ng gantong ugali ko. Hahahaha ) Mahal ko. Madami pa akong pangarap saatin, tuparin natin lahat ng mga yun ha? Ikaw ang dahilan kung bakit ako nangangarap na magkaroon ako ng happy life. :) mahal na maha kita. Let's fight together mahal ha?  i love you mahal na mahal kita :)

Itong taong nasa tabi ko, to yong taong mahal na mahal ko na ayaw ko ng pakawalan at mawala pa sa buhay ko.  Sobrang mahal kita at sobrang saya ko kapag kasama kita. Hinding hindi kita iiwan. Yung yakap mo, haplos, amoy, ginagawa mo, kurot mo, kiliti, tusok (baba) kaartehan, kagat, gap, ngiti mo, sibangot mo, halik mo, dila mo, at Lahat na.....  lahat ng tungkol sayo at about sayo mahal ko, tanggap ko, at sobrang kuntento na ako sayo( sobra sobra ka pa nga para saakin e). Napaka swerte ko dahil alam ko na mahal na mahal mo ako. I love you so much mahal ko. Madami pa tayong pagsasamahan.  Damang dama ko ang saya mo pagmamahal mo, at pagpili mo saakin. Sobrang laking blessing mo na saakin. Kaya papahalagahan kita ng higit pa sa sarili ko. Mahal na mahal kita joanna jhazel :) sakin ka lang. I really love you with all my heart.  

[comfy-whumpee]

2: Loss and Growth

Whumptober #2 and #3. @bloodybrambles, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektric-whump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @avian-american

The road back to the farmhouse is long, and the driveway stretches all the way up the first field. Jhazel drives with one hand on the wheel as they approach, the other stretching out of the window of her little car. Her ringed hand drags through the air as though through water, feeling the resistance of the magical ward around the property, strengthening in its pull as she persists. Through a push from her own power, she slips through, drawing a connection with the earth magic already within the wards.

Her mother arrives soon after. Amina has muddy hands from her work in the field, but straightens up as though the toil doesn’t trouble her, even as she approaches sixty. Earth witches age slow, and she strides across to them with no sign of fatigue. Sharp eyes take in Spencer in the passenger seat, slumped down with their hooded jacket around their ears.

“You embarrassed them,” she says flatly, when Jhazel has gotten out.

Jhazel frowns, displeased. “I didn’t try to. I offered to mentor them. I don’t know why they’re like that.”

“You’re pouting.” Amina smiles a knowing smile, reaching out to pat Jhazel’s back. “You know what teenagers are like.”

“No,” Jhazel replies sharply. She half-turns to glare across the sunny field at the bare earth newly seeded with spring crops. “I don’t,” she adds unnecessarily.

Amina hesitates, following her gaze to the wildflower meadow. “I’m sorry. It was meant as encouragement. She isn’t Denny. You can do this.”

Jhazel glares for a moment more, eye shimmering crimson, but when the car door opens, she snaps back to normal to look over. Spencer climbs out awkwardly, looking between them. “Can I go inside? If you want to talk about me?”

“I’m sorry,” Jhazel says quickly, her face already offering an understanding smile. “Of course you can. I was going to go to the grove, but I can wait until you’re ready.”

Spencer looks between them, and seems to decide they are too tired for whatever it is that has made them tense. “Okay.” They trudge up the garden path and through the green farmhouse door, likely to be greeted by Kazesh, who will make up for her wife and step-daughter’s attitude by making Spencer more tea and some biscuits.

Turning back to Amina, Jhazel finds she is already looking, her eyes dark and surrounded by wrinkles, but almost as fierce as Jhazel’s own. No trace of red is needed to give them light.

“I’m alright, mum,” Jhazel tells her, knowing well what the look means. She sighs, and when Amina moves forward, she falls into the hug. The arms around her are warmer than the best blanket, and much warmer than the morning air whisking over the fields. “I’m fine,” she mumbles. “I’ve just been looking after them both for so long, and… I want to teach. I want to nurture. Spencer…doesn’t want that.”

“Spencer needs time, ‘Zel.” Amina leans back to kiss her forehead, and a smudge of magic stays in the kiss, spreading over Jhazel’s skin with the warmth and safety of home, helping her relax. “A month locked in a lab for having magic isn’t going to make them keen to learn. Go to the grove, see if they can sense the growth. They need her more than they need us.”

Jhazel takes a deep breath, and musters her inner strength. She straightens, all the way up to her five foot three, and squares her shoulders. She is the custodian of the dryad forest Argenwood. There is a dryad here who needs her help.

-

Spencer drops to their knees immediately next to the silver-brown tree trunk, reaching out to lay a hand along the growth that distends it in the shape of a torso and head. “She can speak,” they explain, breathless from the short walk. “She’s not…big enough yet I don’t think. To pull free.”

Do they even know, Jhazel wonders, how unusual that insight was? Most visitors to the forest don’t think anything of the irregular shapes and bumps on the trees. She has a good student here. “That’s true. But we can help with that.”

She crouches down next to them, rolling back her sleeves. “Reach into the soil here,” she instructs, pointing to an area between the roots where the dark soil is looser. She has done this several times already, but Spencer has more to offer. “Can you feel the pull?”

Spencer pushes their hands down into the earth and immediately frowns. “Like suction. Really faint.”

“That’s her. Silver Birch.” She uses the nickname Spencer gave the dryad, despite wondering if it will still be needed when the forest healed. Dryads have never had individual identities before. “She needs strength. In time, she will be able to draw it from the ground, but we can speed things up by giving her some of ours.”

She expects Spencer to ask, what is it they have that the dryad needs? How does it come from the ground? They presumably don’t know how magic lives in every part of nature, building over time in forests, in oceans, in deserts, deeper and stronger the less things change. Perhaps they know that in theory, as Kazesh’s wards are powered by the distant potency of the stars, but do they know that the sun, the moon, the very sky has power?

They don’t ask. They simply say, “How?”

She slips her own fingers into the soil. “Take a deep breath. Try to feel the magic in your hands. It runs in you like blood. Let the pull take some, just your hands. Let it flow.”

Spencer’s pale brow scrunches as they try to feel out their own power. Jhazel knows from her visits that what they lost from being isolated from nature in the lab has been regrown, enough that they should be able to feel it. Her own hands buzz with magic from her time at home in the forest, the dryad’s gift stronger than ever in their desire to feed their absent child. Silver Birch is a slim young tree still, but the knobbly growth on her side is clearly a body struggling to fully emerge.

She releases the power held in her and the buzzing runs out into the earth, like static tingles where she makes contact. The dryad’s host tree absorbs it all with hungry need. Dryads are not made to grow in foreign soil, but with this power, it feels more like home.

Spencer gasps softly, and Jhazel feels another magic join her own. This, too, is dryadic strength, returned to the earth. “That’s it,” she says, her voice low and resonant with power. She can feel her hair moving of its own accord, stirred by the faraway breeze of Argenwood. “Stop when you feel tired. Pull your hands back.”

Spencer’s breathing is laboured, but with excitement, not fear. “I can feel it,” they whisper, staring at the tree before them. “It’s, it’s Silb. It’s hers, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. Let it go back to her. She will return it to you in time.”

Spencer gasps again, and suddenly pulls their hands back, brown with soil and clenched tight. “Oh. I felt – it stopped.”

Jhazel hums, keeping her hands down, feeling the pull reach past her fingers and up her arms. “That’s good. Rest, and I’ll take care of what’s left.”

Spencer falls back to watch, and Jhazel lets her eyes close. Silver Birch needs this power more than she does right now. It’s like blood being drawn to feel the magic leave her, but she encourages it out, even as it starts to flow sluggishly. The tug reaches her chest, pulls on her heart. She pushes it on, forcing it out of her, the magic of the forest and then her own natural reserve. They’re so close, so nearly finished with the regrowth, enough that Silver Birch can take form, speak, think, act, live.

Her chest tightens as her body reacts, afraid of how much she’s losing. She feels her brows pull together in a stubborn frown. She can give more. Spencer has suffered enough, Silver Birch has suffered, the forest has suffered, and she was the custodian, the protector, she was meant to keep the outside world from interfering.

Her head falls forward and her hair settles, and her eye settles back into brown without a flash of red. She has given everything. Any more, and she’ll be on the brink of death.

“S…Silb?”

“Spencer Drew.”

Jhazel’s head jerks up to look straight into circular yellow eyes like pebbles in the whorls of a smooth, wooden face. She pulls back, hands coming free of the pull at last, and a wave of dizziness lands her on the ground.

Spencer doesn’t seem to notice. “You’re back.”

“Back,” Silver Birch agrees. “Went to grow.”

The sparks clear from Jhazel’s eyes and she looks up at the tree now as tall as a person, and the dryad half-separated from its trunk like a centaur. There’s an arm, now, twiggy and weak. Spencer is gripping it like a child holding a parent’s hand.

“You uh, you sure did grow. Did Jhazel do that?”

The bare head turns with a creak to regard Jhazel. “Jhazel was forest. Spencer Drew was forest.”

“I’m not…”

The eyes return to them. “You are.”

“Silb—”

“Spencer Drew,” the dryad interrupts, and Jhazel’s eyes widen to hear the sharp tone. It sounds like Spencer’s own intonation. “You are forest. I hear you talking before, when I grow. Forest in your breath, forest in your words, forest in you. Me, in you. No telling me sorry.”

It sounds just like Spencer rambling about how they’d ended up here.

“Now, we are here. You are my human. Human of the forest.”

Jhazel glanced at Spencer, who was red-faced. “Your… How? Just because I got a bit of your magic?”

“Forest magic, forest human. Forest home. You want me to forgive Spencer Drew. For watching them take, in the lab. I want Spencer Drew to forgive me. For watching them take from you.”

Spencer’s chin pulls back. “Why would I—?”

“Humans take from humans. Humans take from you.”

“She’s saying it was worse for you,” Jhazel realises.

“Worse for you,” Silver Birch echoes in firm agreement. Her voice is wispy but her words are crisp. “Spencer Drew, forgive hurt from me.”

“You…You didn’t…”

“From me in lab. Humans hurt you to take from me.”

“Because of you?” Jhazel offers the words.

“Humans hurt you because of me,” Silver Birch agrees again. “My forest in you. Hurt you to take forest, not hurt me. Can’t take forest from me.”

Spencer sniffles, their hands pressed to their face under their glasses. “I didn’t… I didn’t – I just wanted you to, to be safe, they took your arm and your eye and—”

“I grow.”

“Stop it!” they snap, hands dropping to glare at her through tears. “Stop it, I’m not – I-I might be magic, okay, but it’s not important. I would’ve done what I did anyway. Stayed with you, stuck up for you. They would’ve kicked me out at least for that. I’m glad they locked me up so I could still see you.”

They’re still clutching the thin branch that acted as Silver Birch’s arm, and Jhazel notices that the ends of it are circled around Spencer’s hand. Silver Birch’s eyes haven’t left theirs.

“You, looking at me,” the dryad says softly, the whisper of a breeze through treetops.

“I am looking at you,” Spencer affirms. “So stop, stop seeing failures in me. Just. Let’s just grow. You’re back, you’re – almost whole. Grow a bit more, and… Jhazel is teaching me, I’m doing magic. I’ll grow too.”

“We grow.”

“Yeah,” Spencer sighs.

“Yeah,” Silver Birch echoes.

Jhazel takes the opportunity to slip away, to give them privacy.

[jvhazel]

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[womaninyerrdreams-blog]

THANK YOU JHAZEL :)

[comfy-whumpee]

Jhazel for 😍 What made you truly fall in love with your OC and made you want to continue their story?

This is part an answer and part gratitude, but... It always makes me feel so lucky when people ask about characters who aren't necessarily the stars of this blog. I built this blog on Ty and Jim, Ellis, Cat and Lindsey. Everyone who came later has been less acknowledged so I cherish finding out people who care about them.

Jhazel was my first fantasy OC in whumpland. I don't really count Alistair because he's like, human + one thing. Jhazel was a full on witch and she had anger and grief powering her. I loved that deeply flawed heroine-gone-wrong story, and I loved how it contrasted with her genuine roots as a wise woman. I am especially enjoying her as a caretaker with some serious wrongdoing she is still growing from, and that grief that will always, always be there.

Also she's just a cool lady. She has an eyepatch and a deep, resonant voice and immense magical power and she's friends with wolves and she sees things she shouldn't be able to and she can talk to birds.

[comfy-whumpee]

31 for Jhazel, Ellis, Northlight, Ty, and/or anyone else you want to share

31. What inspired the creation of your oc? Any specific things, a general aesthetic or idea, or something completely random?

I'm not very good at remembering what inspired me. I think the most solid answers I have are for Ellis and Northlight. I can't remember coming up with Jhazel or Ty, I think they were more spur-of-the-moment.

Ellis was heavily inspired by @friendlylocalwhumper's Marlow because I hadn't read any whump with this intimate, one-on-one, conditioned-to-love dynamic before. Granted I was very new to the whump community at the time, but I loved how captivity-Marlow and freedom-Chris had similarities and differences, and how there was strength in both of them in different ways. I loved the process from one to the other and back again, and you can see that influence in my early Ellis stuff. It's easy to forget that we had a whole arc of Ellis basically telling Alistair to fuck off and die.

(Defiance: One | Two | Three | Four | Five)

Northight was, in the very earliest incarnation, a trickster time traveller called Spark who was created solely to teleport @crash-bump-bring-the-whump's bastard Asao into the jurrassic era, so that he could think about what he's done for a really, really long time. Spark was developed into Northlight - I wanted a name that would easily be translatable and timeless through centuries. Verbatim quote from the chat:

Their name is Spark and they can sidestep through time but it's very easy to do by accident so they're always losing their way they're going to accidentally take him with them and then leave him in a prehistoric era where the air was not very breathable they didn't mean to but they will fail to find him again

[comfy-whumpee]

4: Push and Pull

Whumptober #4 a day late because yesterday’s post was today’s and tomorrow’s prompt. Can you see why I got mixed up.

While Jhazel and Spencer visit Silver Birch, Kazesh Adastra puts her wedding ring on the windowsill and plunges her hands into a large sink of hot, soapy water. She sets about scrubbing the breadmaking utensils she has dirtied for today’s breakfast and lunch, sponge sliding around the dough hook’s curve and into each cranny of the loaf tin. The freckles that dust her arms and face glow faintly with an unnatural, yet completely natural light, as if those small dots of gold on her dark skin are constantly reflecting a light that doesn’t touch the rest of her. Kazesh is a star witch, covered in constellations of her own design, holding charges of her power.

Embedded in the land around them are marks of a different kind. A hundred small stones, each one holding a hint of energy. Meteoric iron, easily infused with star magic, is buried glinting in the earth. Amina set each one in place, evenly laid in a ring around their land. Some of the field edges are outside the circle, but the shape is easiest for Kazesh to hold.

The power keeps the wards. The world turns against her own little pocket, making it hard for things to enter without her allowing them in. It Is a constant orbiting pulse of magic, repelling intruders from all sides.

Kazesh feels it even in her sleep. She has been holding the wards since Spencer told them the resources Pike had. He’d hired new staff, new facilities, and security that could still come after their wayward experiment and their imprisoned intern.

She spends every night out underneath the stars, trying to channel enough power to last the barrier for its next day. As she sets the last fork on the drying rack, the thought of doing so again tonight fills her with exhausted dread.

Leaving the kitchenware to dry, she sits down at the table, resting her hands on its familiar wood. Amina made this table for them when they moved in together, ready to take pride of place in their kitchen, at their hearth. She reaches for the bread still sitting out on the board, slathering a slice with raspberry jam still preserved from last summer. It’ll be a month or two before the canes ripen again.

She breathes. The house is momentarily peaceful. The wards hold against everything but the small creatures she allows, and the breeze.

The sound of footsteps prompts her to push her glasses up her nose and straighten, shaking navy-dyed braids from her face. Jhazel opens the door, Spencer trailing behind her with their shoulders hunched as usual, jumper sleeves pulled down over their hands.

“Hey, sweetie,” she greets them, forcing up a smile. “How was Silver Birch?”

“Fine. She’s… Uh, she’s talking again.”

“Oh, that’s great!” She glances quickly at Jhazel, who doesn’t indicate that it isn’t. “I know you got worried when she stopped coming out.”

Spencer shrugs, not making eye contact. “Amina said she was growing more. I just worried.”

“I get it.” Kazesh pats the space on the bench next to her, and Spencer comes over to sit with a faint sigh. The poor child is still recovering, and these trips make her easily tired. They’re all tired, really. “I’d be worried too. But she’s got the best people looking out for her.”

“I guess,” Spencer mumbles. They reach for the bread.

Kazesh gets up to give them space, feeling her bones aching in protest. She goes over to Jhazel. “You okay?”

Jhazel smiles tiredly. “Yes, I’m fine. Silver Birch is growing well and Spencer was able to connect to their magic.”

“Amazing. You look exhausted, if you don’t mind me saying.”

At the hint of concern in her voice, Jhazel glances away for a moment. “I’m alright. I just delivered more magic from the forest.”

“And from yourself, too?” Kazesh tilts her head slightly, ignoring the pain that spreads across her shoulder as she does so. “Your light’s gone dim, ‘Zel. You gave too much again.”

Jhazel looks back at her knowingly. “And yours?”

What about hers? Her feet are tingling and numb. Her hands ache. Her joints are tender. Magical exhaustion is different from witch to witch, but Kazesh is keeping them all safe. She has been for weeks.

“The wards will hold,” she says, and it’s answer enough. After a pause, she adds quietly, “I’ll stop before the bleeding.”

She doesn’t mention that the bleeding has already started. That the larger freckles on her body, underneath her shirt, have opened and closed as they try to hold and release the power of the clear night sky.

[comfy-whumpee]

68. What sorts of things would cheer your oc up when they’re down? Is your oc sad often, or is it more rare?

96. Describe your oc in three words. What three words would they use to describe themselves?

56. What is your oc’s favourite colour? If you had to choose one colour to represent your oc, what would it be and why?

For Spencer and Ellis?

68. What sorts of things would cheer your oc up when they’re down? Is your oc sad often, or is it more rare?

Spencer and Ellis are both sad but in different ways. Spencer is sad like a teenager with burnout and complete lack of trust in authority, grumpy and sometimes petty about it, will sit in their room all day staring at the farm and berating themself for all their past mistakes. Ellis is just a kicked puppy who thinks he deserves to be kicked because he keeps biting people.

Flippancy aside, little cheers Spencer like getting to see Silver Birch, and especially see how she's growing. A good coffee, and maybe cookies, also helps. They're also coming to enjoy tending to the plants around the farm, and Jhazel is encouraging them to get to know Argenwood too. Argenwood feels like home.

Ellis tends to endure his sadness because he is a chronic stranger to his own agency. With Alistair, his options were pretty much 1) seek out affection, or 2) go watch a bad movie or read a bad book, which was all he had access to for entertainment. At home, he's more likely to boot up an old comfort video game, or curl up and take a nap.

96. Describe your oc in three words. What three words would they use to describe themselves?

Spencer would answer pretty quickly and offhandedly. She says, "smart, stupid, tired".

Ellis would think very, very hard and carefully offer, "partner, quiet." He wants to say kind but he isn't sure he should. So he adds, halfheartedly, "gamer."

Spencer can be summed up pretty well with "naive prodigy adoptee". Not because they were adopted by their parents, but because they've been adopted by pretty much every magical person they've met since. The naive/prodigy part is self-explanatory. Pike listed an unpaid internship for an undergraduate on purpose.

Ellis... "resilient martyr" kinda sums up his whole deal. And maybe I'll add "kind" because he won't and none of Alistair's schtick would have worked if he wasn't so burdened with empathy.

56. What is your oc’s favourite colour? If you had to choose one colour to represent your oc, what would it be and why?

Ellis's favourite colour is warm, sunny, egg-yolk yellow. My mental colour for Ellis is a bit more orangey, like clear honey.

Spencer I think of as navy, but her favourite colour is the green of sunshine through leaves. Not that she'd ever say that. She says 'green'.

As for my why, ideasthesia.

[comfy-whumpee]

Blossom

@iaminamoodymoodtoday, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektric-whump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @avian-american

The trees are goliaths. They tower over her, staring down with thick, dark leaves of green and greyish trunks cracked with silver like kintsugi. There are small paths between them, some worn by human feet, some by animal tracks, and others by rivulets of recent rain. Flowers sprout and ferns tangle, fed by the fertile earth. Spring is bountiful and sumptuous in the forest.

Jhazel places her hand on Spencer's shoulder with a wise smile. "You can feel it. The majesty of it."

Spencer nods, too awestruck to speak. She can feel the age of this forest in the air, see it in the huge trunks and deeply knotted roots. She can smell the life that lives here and feel the pulse of what must be the dryads who live in these trees.

"None of them are like Silver Birch," Jhazel tells her. "But you can see the resemblance."

It's like going to a school friend's house and seeing their likeness in their parents. This is what Silver Birch would look like if her tree was allowed to grow for generations, all of her bark grown in and her branchlike antlers turned into a full crown. She would be a tree herself, then. It's hard to think that some of these trees are as alive and aware as her friend.

There's a faint rustle in he leaves, something off-tempo with the breeze. Jhazel chuckles quietly. "They're welcoming you."

Looking around, Spencer finds herself drawn to one nearby tree, not as tall or heavy as its neighbours. The crags of its bark are deep, with a glimmer of the old silvery colour underneath, the one that gave Silver Birch her name. Spencer, without thinking, lays a hand on the bark and whispers, "Hello."

Another rustle that she could almost imagine was the forest returning her greeting.

When she turns, Jhazel is smiling warmly. "One of the youngest," she says, eyes tracking the trunk up to its spindly growth of leaves. "Silver Birch was the youngest of them all, but this one is only a decade old. I saw it grow from sapling to this."

Spencer will be thirty by the time Silver Birch gets that tall. "Do you plant them yourself?"

Jhazel shakes her head. "The dryads rarely need my intervention in their life cycle. The forest animals take care of it. A wolf or a fox might carry a seed to the right place. Birds and worms will feed it. No predators will eat from it. The whole forest understands the dryads, and…" her eye fixes Spencer in its gaze, "now you do too."

Spencer frowns, tugging her sleeves over her hands self-consciously. "Me? How do you know?"

"Hold out your hand."

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Spencer supposes. She holds out one hand, fingers splayed. She feels terribly like she's about to be taught a magic spell.

Instead, a creamy-white butterfly lands on one outstretched finger, just for a moment, and then flies away. A moment later, while Spencer is still gaping in shock, Jhazel steps forwards and hugs her firmly. "The forest knows you, Spencer," she says, with a strange lightness in her normally heavy voice, some kind of joy uplifting it. "It knows your magic."

"I don't--"

"You do. Inside you is a seed of power. You spent so long with Silver Birch that it took root in you, and found you fertile soil to grow. You have a natural inclination to the earth."

"I…" Spencer looks down at her hand, speechless. It feels like it has to be a dream, but it definitely happened. A butterfly on her fingertip. "I'm magic now?"

"We all have a little magic. Yours is developing. You are still young, and your aptitude has been…pollinated, I suppose. It takes soil and a seed. I was the same at your age."

Spencer looks up at the earth witch, who seems older than time, and look yet younger than Spencer's parents. "I'm going to be one of you?"

"If you want to be." There is hope, bright in Jhazel's dark eyes. "I would be your teacher. The forest would be your home."

Spencer's eyes widen. "She said that once. That I belonged in the forest."

"Silver Birch knows many things without understanding them. She calls you her human, and I can see why." Jhazel's smile is a brilliant beam of sunlight. "The forest chose you. Silver Birch saw only a small part of it, but her view is just as important as the rest of the dryads. If you would like, Spencer Drew… You could be the next custodian."

"Bullshit," Spencer mutters instinctively.

Jhazel only keeps on smiling. And above them, the trees rustle without breeze, in the sound of gentle laughter.