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#i was afraid january was as long as witches but it's not by a long shot so i'm probably okay

cantstoptheimagines · 2 months

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Dating Them Would Include…

Summary — Headcanons for Aisha from Winx Club!

Requested by @alejandradrake14 — Can I make a request for Winx Aisha were her and reader are dating but fem reader is shy and afraid to speak her mind while Aisha is outgoing and never afraid to speak her mind ( fem reader is a fairy as well)

Warnings ➳ Pure fluff!

Notes ➳ Word Count is 333. ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). She is also a fairy like the other Winx Club girlies! ➳ Dedicating this to the 20th Anniversary of Winx Club, which was celebrated on January 28th of this year! I can’t believe it’s been that long since the show premiered! 💗

first of all, aisha is a badass, just wanted to put that out there. one of the best characters the show ever had lol

everyone knows that aisha is not to be messed with, especially when it comes to you

the two of you had been friends for a long time before things between you turned romantic

you tend to be on the quiet side, but that’s okay because aisha makes up for with her confidence

since you’ve known one another for such a long time, she can easily tell when you’re being more shy than usual

you like to avoid confrontation as much as possible

aisha, on the other hand, isn’t afraid to face nerve-wracking situations head-on

having some trouble with the trix? aisha’s got it handled

she’s sending those witches back to cloud tower within minutes!

need a day off from your classes at alfea? she’ll glare at anyone who even attempts to go into your room

“she wants peace and quiet right now. what don’t you understand about that?”

after the person left, not wanting to challenge her, you’d quietly poke your head out into the corridor with a whisper, “thanks, aisha.”

her reply comes with a grin, “i’ve got your back, sweetheart!”

she’s definitely an acts of service girlie

and you always repay her for her help, of course, no matter how much she tries to object

however, her tune changes rather quickly when she sees a plate of fresh cookies in your hands

and then, in the blink of an eye, she’s the shy one, taking the delicious cookies you had lovingly prepared for her without another word

“that’s what i thought,” you smile. “you’ve never been one to turn down cookies.”

in response, she’d grin back at you, “who is?”

obviously she decides to share them with you

“as a ‘thank you’ for your ‘thank you’!”

#2024 #dating them would include #requested #winx club #winx club headcanons #winx club headcanon #winx club x reader #aisha headcanons #aisha headcanon #aisha x reader

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fand0mh03 · 1 year

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Runaway; part two

hi! I’ve decided I’m going to make this a series. I’m not sure how long yet, but there will be more parts coming soon. Thank you for reading!

“You seriously described the Boston Tea Party as a tea party held in boston? On a test?” Wanda laughed as she questioned Y/N, who had just told her a story from when she was a teenager.

“Can you blame me? I was out for a week, I had no idea!” She exclaimed, laughing along at the memory. This was the happiest the 24 year old witch had felt in a long time, especially considering today. It was like a breath of fresh air for her. The two women had been chatting away and enjoying the time together for the past 2 hours- making it about 10 o’clock in the night. Wanda was grateful to not have to spend this night alone; well atleast all of it. She was afraid she’d break if she was left alone for too long. Y/N made her feel better, like a plant where after all of the sun, the rain finally came.

“Hey, Y/N, I have to close up for the night, I’m sorry,” a man came out- to which Wanda assumed was the chef and owner of the diner. She looked over to Y/N, who nodded and said good night to the chef.

“Well, Wanda, looks like it’s time to go. C’mon,” She spoke to Wanda, who tried to hide her sadness, so she offered a small smile as Y/N stood up. Wanda stood up with her, and tried to stop herself from blushing when Y/N grabbed her wrist and led her out of the door.

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” Y/N’s sweet voice alarmed Wanda, making her look over at her.

“I can manage,” She smiled at her, but Y/N’s face stayed worried.

“I have extra room in my apartment, you could stay there for as long as you need.” Y/N offered, and Wanda’s heart fluttered. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to say yes, but she also had nowhere to go, and wouldn’t be able to access her bank account due to her identity being “dead”, not that she had much money anyway though. And safety aside, Wanda really liked Y/N, she couldn’t just say no.

“Yeah, okay, thank you so much. Can I offer you money or anything, I’m not sure how long I’d be staying for,”

“Don’t worry about it, you don’t have to pay me, it's fine. Here, let’s go to my car, it’s cold and late.”

Wanda followed Y/N to her car, which was a silver toyota camry, and slid into the passenger seat as she unlocked the door. Y/N buckled her seat belt and started the car, pulling out of the diner’s parking lot and into the streets. They sat in silence for a while until Y/N turned on the radio and started singing along to Taylor Swift.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘till january,” She softly sang, making Wanda slowly start to smile.

“Cause this is our place, we make the rules”

“And there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear. Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?”

“Can I go where you go?” Wanda joined in with Y/N, causing Y/N to glance over at Wanda with a grin on her face.

Singing lyrics, and laughing at each other, dancing at red lights and stop signs, loving every second of their time together, Wanda couldn’t help but wonder, how long would this last? Would Y/N end up leaving too? This made her smile falter, but she put up the facade of enjoying herself to her wits end. She felt bad for thinking like this, but everyone she’s ever loved was gone, and she was scared of forming new relationships. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she shouldn’t have talked to Y/N for so long, maybe she shouldn’t have gotten in the car.

“My hearts been borrowed and yours has been blue, all’s well that ends well to end up with you”

Nervous, Wanda decided to read Y/N’s thoughts, to make sure she wouldn’t get betrayed (for now at least). And Wanda almost started crying because all Y/N was thinking about was how she was excited about getting a new roommate for a little bit and a potential best friend.

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? Forever and ever,” Wanda and Y/N continued to sing together while she parked the car and danced along to the lyrics. Wanda let a tear slip down her face and Y/N stopped singing and gave her a worried, empathetic look, but Wanda gave her a little smile which Y/N returned.

Darling, you're my, my, my, my Lover

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Once they got inside Y/N’s apartment, Y/N took her and Wanda’s coats and hung them up on the hooks by the front door. Y/N scurried off into the kitchen as Wanda followed, taking a seat on the couch.

“Can I offer you a glass of coffee? Water? Tea? Anything?” Y/N stuck her head out of the kitchen to talk to Wanda, who softly laughed at Y/N’s hospitality, and took her up on the offer of coffee, because God knew Wanda needed coffee.

“So, what brought you to the diner?” Y/N asked Wanda, wondering why the hero had decided to stop by a quiet coffee shop late at night.

“Uh…” Wanda didn’t want to ruin this, she knew Y/N would already think she’s a monster.

“It’s alright. I’m not interrogating you, I just want to know a little more about you,” She smiled at the red head, and went to get the coffee.

Wanda took it graciously, and decided to tell Y/N what had happened. At least the rundown of what happened. Worst comes to worse, she leaves, right?

********** think of MOM and her kids running from her *********

Expecting Y/N to freak out, Wanda was shocked and pleasantly surprised when Y/N gave her a hug. This caused Wanda to break down. This is what she was afraid would happen.

Loud, painful sobs racked her body as Y/N wrapped her arms around her waist, allowing Wanda to collapse into her arms and rest her head on her shoulder. Hot tears ran down her face, her eyes shutting closed, and the tears rolling onto Y/N’s bare shoulder. She shook from the mental breakdown, and Y/N brushed the hair from Wanda’s face, holding her and comforting her. Something Wanda hasn’t felt in a long time- comfort.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” Y/N whispered to Wanda, in an attempt to soothe her, which worked, the tears slowing down. Y/N pulled away, leaving a kiss on her forehead, and rubbed the other woman’s arms, only when she felt the tears stop and the shaking came to a halt. Y/N continued to hold her, for as long as she needed, letting Wanda rest on her lap. Wanda’s eyes ached from crying so long, so she shut them, and soon, she drifted off into a deep sleep.

#wanda x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximilf #wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff #Elizabeth Olsen #elizabeth olsen x female reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #Runaway series #Marvel

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the-black-mage-of-phantasm · 5 months

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Envenomation: a Sucy Manbavaran fanfic

Art by the wonderful Pili BlueBerry on Instagram!

Ao3 Link to Story, FFN Link to Story

Summary: Sucy Manbavaran wasn’t the most “open” person. Aloof most of the time, sarcastic the rest, and always sadistic, she knew a lot of people thought she was nothing but the scariest witch in the room, and she was more than happy to let them think so. But even witches like her had fears. Ones she never liked to think about, and ones that gave her nightmares that had become far, far too real.

Current Chapters: 5

Current Length: 67,092 words

Updates Monthly. Next update, January 2nd, 2024

Hello there! It’s been about four months since I promised to update this story. And it’s been just as long any story for that matter. Yeesh.

So, to give a TL;DR about why I’ve been gone and what took this chapter so long: my mom got into a car accident on like day before I was going to upload this, and while she was fine, dealing with insurance to cover the accident has been a nightmare. I had to take more shifts at my job and work more hours to cover the bills while dealing with them, but, eventually, I got them to fork over the money.

After like three months of that, I started editing the draft for this chapter, and there were certain things I didn’t like, and certain plot points I wanted to change, which led to a massive rehaul of certain scenes here. And then like in the second week of November, I got a really bad flu (surprisingly not COVID) that left me feeling like crap for the rest of the month, especially since I couldn’t take that many days of work, so I had to work while sick.

And this was all on top of dealing with the fact that the one year anniversary of my best friends death came and went, reminding me she isn't hear, and dealing with all the grief that brings.

So, that’s what I’ve been up to these last few months. And yes, that was the summarized version.

I’m really sorry for the delay. And I’m afraid I have some more bad news: because of how busy I’ve gotten at my job, I’m gonna have to move this story to a monthly release. Sorry, but I don’t want to sacrifice the quality of this story by giving out incomplete works just to meet a deadline that I can push back.

But anyway, I do hope this chapter was worth the wait. It’s quite long (over 21,000 words, the longest chapter to date!), and there was a lot of talking here, but trust me when I say there were certain moments here that heavily foreshadow key plot points for later down the line. Also, I did my best to make the dialogue, especially between the red team and Ursula, feel authentic to them as characters, as well as doing the emotional moments here justice, and I hope that it made for an enjoyable read. And now, I’m gonna work on the next chapter and try to get it out by January 2nd!

And with that, these notes come to a close. Don't hesitate to tell me what you liked and/or didn't like about this chapter!

#little witch academia #lwa #sucy manbavaran #lotte jansson #akko kagari #lwa jp #diana cavendish #envenomationlwa #lwa fanfic

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ezekielurquhart · 8 months

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@hcdonism location: the FUNCTION notes: knifekitty (affectionate) , Alexa play Lover (First Dance Remix)

All confidence and ego, cocky would have been an easy way to describe Ezekiel. Him and Remi were different in that regard, their origins weren’t all that different but where Ezekiel had ended up with every opportunity, Remi had none. He’d made his own, it was one of the many things that Ezekiel had always found inspiring about the other: no matter how things felt, knowing that Remi had probably been through worse was a source of comforting hope. Ezekiel had died and come back as someone else, a vampire that wasn’t afraid of his own strength, sharp and trained, the front that he’d put on as a witch fell away for something more authentic and genuine.

The couture was gone now though and in its place was a simple but well tailored suit, black on black, a white tie to break it up as Ezekiel watched Remi through a crowded ballroom. There was no bass accompaniment this time, no anticipatory build of EDM music or flashy dance moves. Just a man who couldn’t keep his eyes off of the only person in the room that ever seemed to matter. An orchestra swelled before a piano accompaniment led by Hakan followed, Rhiannon and Sumeyye stood beside the ivory keys to harmonise and sing backup. Ezekiel began and the room quieted, people still spoke but it sounded like conversation and more like murmurs in the background as the crowd parted systematically. The lights dimmed before a pair of spotlights shone on Ezekiel and Remi.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January And this is our place, we make the rules And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear Have I known you for 20 seconds or 20 years?”

Ezekiel approached the other across the dance floor, confidence built in his step despite the nerves that sparked under his skin. Remi had never made him nervous… At least, not for some time. It had been a year together, and longer spent pining. Years of friendship and yearning bloomed in a crescendo of passion: lies, deception, and mistakes. Neither of them were perfect but Ezekiel still felt that they were perfect for each other, so he stopped in front of Remi and offered him his hand to ask him to dance. Neva had forced ballroom on him when he was a teenager, but given the musical air Ezekiel wouldn’t have needed it.

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? Forever and ever, ah Take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my lover.”

Remi was barely an inch taller than Ezekiel, the sire brought his hand to his progeny’s waist, their hands folded together while soft, brown locks tilted against Ezekiel’s broad shoulders. He loved him. Ezekiel had been in love with him for years. It felt stupid to jinx things, but the truth was that he was happy: the happiest he had ever been and it had been that way for months now. Since he had turned Remi and even before. This progeny just completed that.

"We could let our friends crash in the living room This is our place, we make the call And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all.”

Because he couldn’t help himself, Ezekiel’s hand ghosted to the small of Remi’s back as he pulled the other against his chest. Long lashes closed blue eyes as they danced around a seemingly vacant ballroom, their spotlights joined in their slow dance as the vampire sung his quiet gratitudes in the other’s ear. A whisper on his breath though the chorus and lyrics seemed to resound around them with the orchestral accompaniment.

“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover.”

The music quieted and then faded out, though the lights returned, it still felt like they were the only two in the room. Ezekiel’s lips pressed against Remi’s, soft and quick: a promise of lifetimes to follow. With uncharacteristic sheepishness, Ezekiel took a step back before he cleared his throat and got down on one knee. “I don't think any amount of time together could ever be enough,” the sire’s hand produced a small, velvet box from his pocket before he opened it to reveal a ring he'd been holding onto for weeks. “But I want to start with forever: marry me?”

#remi #remistarter #remi.midsommar #senatus.event #senatus.midsommar

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himboskywalker · 2 years

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It’s insane being a new fan & coming onto obikin and seeing blogs and writers established as you really just amazing. If you don’t mind me asking how long have you been on tumblr and in the Star Wars fandom?

Hello dear and welcome ❤️

I’ve been a Star Wars fan since I was a kid and watched the prequels before I watched the original trilogy and didn’t know Anakin was Darth Vader and had a full blown mental breakdown in the car on the way to Florida watching RotS playing on the first laptop my family ever owned lmao I’ll never forget I cried so hard my mom threatened to pull the car over and turn the movie off.

I actually read Obikin back on Fanfiction.net in ye olden days but that’s a whole other aside lol But more relavent to fandom and my space as a fic writer I got obsessively back into the prequels in 2019 and was reading so much fic and so engrossed in the prequels side of tumblr that I finally decided to make my own Star Wars side tumblr to spare my mutuals I’d had since 2012 on my main lmao I’m a fandom oldie at this point,I came from Supernatural stock and Teen Wolf and lots of other “don’t cite the deep magic to me witch” fandoms,so I’ve been writing fanfiction since I was in middle school.

I was always very intimidated to write for Star Wars because I knew the universe was so big and extensive and I was very afraid of getting lore wrong ect. But by January of 2020 I had pretty much read everything obikin and started to bing read the official books so I decided to contribute my own fic! And holy shit everyone was so responsive and nice and I had never felt so included or welcomed in a fandom space before. This space of fandom is an extremely welcoming and friendly and uplifting group of people and in the near 15 years I’ve been in fandom never have I been so active or a part of it as here.

In 2020 the pandemic hit of course, when I was finishing my last semester of my masters and had been writing fic for only a few months already lol So there was an insane boom where my degree was finished and I was quarantined at home just like everyone else,and basically did nothing for an entire year but write obikin fics. You cannot begin to imagine how much content was being written around here,and how much lovely fandom activity there was,and there is where a lot of my writing gained traction I think.

So relatively speaking I’m pretty new to being active in this area of fandom too,and have only been actively participating for going on 4 years now. But don’t be intimidated! Everyone is so friendly and fun around here,and I’m terrible at responding to asks nowadays but I love all you guys and every day am blown away by all the friends I’ve made here!

#obikin #Star Wars #fandom #anons

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neverfalling · 2 years

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☼ BASICS☼

NAME: Hela Zetterberg BIRTHDAY: 18 January 1987 ALIGNMENT: Lawful Good AGE: 35 SPECIES: Witch (Water + Pain Manipulation) FACECLAIM: Katie McGrath

Hela can be resourceful, protective, and independent, but also reckless, dogmatic, and arrogant.

☼BIOGRAPHY☼

Family has been here since shortly after the island’s founding as a neutral space for the supernatural world. They’re originally from Sweden and have generally maintained their Norse pagan ties.

Hela is the eldest of her siblings and named for the goddess Hel, and she was raised with the idea that she would be the head of their family one day. This inspired a strong work ethic and that alongside prodigious talent resulted in a uniquely powerful witch even at a young age.

For .6 whole seconds, Hela’s parents were afraid she wouldn’t manifest any sort of ability until she returned home one afternoon as a child with a very obviously broken arm and not a tear in sight over it. She’d been instinctively manipulating the pain level of it to nearly nothing until she found someone to help her. She typically uses it for helpful things--lessening the pain of an injury or headache--but has used it in the past for harassing her siblings.

It has made her reckless, however. Who cares how bad the injury is if you just don’t feel it? And without a hunter’s unique sort of durability, that can be a problem.

Magical baby genius type childhood. She’s arrogant and thinks she’s right all the time because she’s usually right. There will be no apologies for anything ever even if she’s wrong. (Which she’s not. :) )

Her parents pushed her for some sort of profession that might bring the family a sort of renown, but Hela gravitated towards things that allowed her to apply magic. A combination of art, pain manipulation, and spell design eventually led to her ownership of a tattoo studio in the neutral area of the island.

Though she primarily does what is expected at a tattoo shop, she’s also created inks that can hold an enchantment. (Explained after the bio!)

Parents were not super thrilled about this avenue but also she made the inks and the process of enchantment herself, which is still some talented bullshit so they let it slide. Expectations intact, legacy not in danger, etc.

Generally not super keen on vampires. Werewolves are fine. Hunters and witches are neat!

Blood magic is an abomination and quite frankly cheating. Git gud, losers.

☼OTHER☼

Pain Manipulation: This ability allows Hela to manipulate an already present ache or incite one, though the latter requires more energy and focus. She can maintain whatever course she takes so long as she maintains focus and has worked on her endurance where this is concerned for her whole life, but the larger the manipulation, the more difficult sustaining it is. Hela isn’t particularly cruel, either--she primarily uses it for herself or someone else to decrease the pain of an injury, but she’s been known to use it on her siblings as a means of annoyance.

Starting in her late-teens, Hela steadily began to collect tattoos. Most of them are Norse-style in nature, but she has quite a few now in different styles covering both arms, her chest, her back, her hands, her neck, and a couple on her legs.

Hela is pretty well traveled and speaks English, Swedish, French, and Italian in that order of fluency. She’s spent a lot of time with Norse covens in particular, and she’s pretty well-versed in a lot of different types of magic practiced worldwide.

I think Hela has a dog. I’m not sure about this yet. Ask me in a week about Hela’s dog

☼TATTOO INFORMATION☼

Jay likes writing about magic, you are not obligated to read this unless you really want to know my thoughts on how magical tattoos should work.

These mainly benefit humans, witches, and hunters, but she’s not opposed to working on stuff for werewolves or vampires if the reasoning is right and the enchantment is interesting enough.

Applied magic can be very simple or incredibly complex. The simple tends to be cosmetic. You want a glittery tattoo? One where the shape of the moon mirrors the one in the sky? One that glows blue when there’s orcs about? Hela can do that.

More complex enchantments can be things like storing a spell so the user doesn’t expend energy in the heat of the moment and can simply speak a word and the spell comes from the tattoo itself. She could also do something protective, like say a stoneskin enchantment, where if the person with the enchanted tattoo is hit hard enough, the spell deflects the blow. In any of these more complex, non-cosmetic applications, the enchantment is one and done. Once it’s used it’s gone and she’ll have to reapply the magic.

The actual ink of the tattoo is permanent and for magic stuff, it acts as a framework for reapplications. There’s ink involved to replace the enchantment, but no needles or healing time, just some paintbrushes and Hela’s ability to place the spell or enchantment within the framework.

Yeehaw magic science complete

#muse: hela #bio: hela #bio

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elisaenglish · 3 months

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Flesh and Blood Needs Flesh and Blood

“I have lots of things to teach you now, in case we ever meet, concerning the message that was transmitted to me under a pine tree in North Carolina on a cold winter moonlit night. It said that Nothing Ever Happened, so don’t worry. It’s all like a dream. Everything is ecstasy, inside. We just don’t know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever. Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, which was taught in immense milky way soft cloud innumerable worlds long ago and not even at all. It is all one vast awakened thing. I call it the golden eternity. It is perfect. We were never really born, we will never really die. It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It’s a dream already ended. There’s nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be glad about. I know this from staring at mountains months on end. They never show any expression, they are like empty space. Do you think the emptiness of space will ever crumble away? Mountains will crumble, but the emptiness of space, which is the one universal essence of mind, the vast awakenerhood, empty and awake, will never crumble away because it was never born. The world you see is just a movie in your mind. Rocks don’t see it. Bless and sit down. Forgive and forget. Practice kindness all day to everybody and you will realise you’re already in heaven now. That’s the story. That’s the message. Nobody understands it, nobody listens, they’re all running around like chickens with heads cut off. I will try to teach it but it will be in vain, s’why I’ll end up in a shack praying and being cool and singing by my wood-stove making pancakes.”

-Jack Kerouac, Letter to his First Wife, Edie Parker (28th January 1957)-

May you spell centrifugalism, solitude of one, that temptress witch there in your bones. Commonplace compelled, to back and back, cryptology gone down, the slack resurgence on this biting track, perfection in the arch. I want the fringe, hailed on the wings of birds, you deep within my arms—forever lone, home, I cannot sing without you.

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kentnaturaltribrid · 6 months

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I’d say welcome, but there’s really not much time for speeches and welcomes. Though, bet some of us more than others remember the old days of tales of The Lake of Ophelia and The Great Gates of Stone. It’s the Court of Roses, Rogues, and Thorns among other places. Where magic thrives unseen and later becomes forbidden.

I for one still remember the walls of stony farmlands and small villages along the way. Then of course, there’s the large forests and caves, the fun places where exploring can mean only one thing; A trip to the deepest ruins or to rocks by the river, or to mountains and rivers with Ravens for many more years to come and send messages. Some were simply forgotten places and some, well go beyond the walls of stone and gates of Thorns and Faeseriks. Beyond a time where magic was hassled and broken, beyond a time when all there was that could fix a pact was Desoliction and Desiolevitation. Beyond a time of daggers and swords, back to ruins and Asper as well as Fasaer and Estaeliaer, a time of when there was but little.

Many years passed between then and what we now get to see, many of them still remain lost tales after the verkalian. Many of them remain found once every 13 years, many of them are every few 10,000 years silent. Though, still we live and then it’s never ending.

Many of years and still no end to the Thorns that bring ruins, however there’s many more tales that just happen to fall straight into glory and roses or glory and eventually darkness or those of us who remember then know the tales of the reason for witches and cats, or those for cats being magical. Though still there is not one but many tales of cats and witches, none more reasonable and logical than towers of Kaverlon and the last nights of Rivers. Many forget the basis of the tales of different creatures and tales of not the sword, but the secrets of magic and lost memories.

“You know, Hope is a mistake. If you can’t fix what’s broken, you’ll, uh…you’ll go insane.”

The reason for witches and cats wearing pointed hats as well, most forget. The reason is simply because they’re afraid of what is all consuming power of the Sakllows and of The Forgotten of The swords of Daerkallows and of those who would rather see magic die than have to live with it, those of Gaekaer and the power of Udaer, though long forgotten and long lost are memories of those who wear the hats of pointing for protection, laercation, Maevecation, and Messages, along with the memories of those who burned through the darkness of the night, those who remain after and those who burned the night of October 21st 1709 all the way through October 23rd of 1864. Though, the first is more of a mystery than to go by much of it as a reminder or much as logic. For there is no logic of reasoning in magic, with any sign of crystalline life and light. There is many who forget the second night, without Salem bringing forth a dim but fast light of the night, light of day, and light of fires within the darkest hours of the night along with many different fires of scarlet light and scarlet darkness, scarlet flames of the winter. There in the darkness lay the answers or so we (Willow, Zarllow, etc and the other cats alongside me) thought it would be the next place to go for finding the answers that We’s had set out for long looking for, though the closest thing so far to any answer is right back to Black Cats, which is where we weren’t exactly looking at what we’d ended up finding at first due to traces of them as well and due to those who are ready for the rising with Sith, Caerin, and Vaerin (the three black cats of Vaelic, original Waeseic, and original Raesic, and original Daedric origin.) Though, the Next Time that the set of rising is set for would be around this Halloween that is according to all the ravens and eclipse skies alongside the moon rising of balataera (Basaeric) from this past week or so as it catches up to October and perhaps even November, December, and eventually January and February, there may just be something in the feathers and fur.

#witchcore #witchy vibes #witchy things #witchy #witches #witchblr #season of the witch #witchy stuff #witchy items #witch cats with hats #pointed hats on cats #witchy cats with ribbons on pointed hats #ribbon on witch hats of cats #cats are magic and are the ones who originally had to wear hats #cats with hats of witchyness #cats with magic hats #cat with respect hat with green ribbon and purple exterior of hat #cats with traditional purple hats and respectable green ribbons #hats in purple with green ribbons on Cats #cats are in lucky colors with hats and ribbons #cats have lucky colors of purple and green #cats who deal with lucky colors #cats who deal with hats of magic #cats whom deal with pure hats #cats of magic and royal with hats of magic in luck colors design with ribbons of light and luck #cats of luck #cats whom deal in magic and books #cats wearing purple hats that have ribbons of green #cats who are magical #cats whom are of magic and have pure hats with ribbons and they have colored korels (royal colors of hats)

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adamwatchesmovies · 11 months

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Lake Mungo (2008)

Lake Mungo has been described as “The saddest horror film you’ve never seen”, which tells you exactly what you need to know. The best way to see this documentary is cold. The setup makes you clearly understand why it’s a drama and that drama leads to a special kind of terror. From there, you’ll never be sure how you’re supposed to feel, which makes it incredibly effective.

After sixteen-year-old Alice Palmer drowns while swimming, her mother, June, begins hearing strange noises in their home and starts sleepwalking. Hoping to understand what is happening to his family, Mathew sets up cameras throughout the house. The film shows the enigmatic footage and the investigation that follows.

Still determined to read on? Then I must warn you that some big surprises in the story HAVE to be revealed to explain my star rating for the film. You’ve been warned.

Like The Blair Witch Project, Lake Mungo is presented as if it really happened. In truth, this is a mockumentary. Alice is played by Talia Zucker, her brother Mathew by Martin Sharpe, their mother by Rosie Traynor and father by David Pledger. Certain clues throughout might reveal this part of the way through but certain viewers won’t notice them, which is why it's best to go in not knowing. Lake Mungo wants to fool you. It’s set in Australia - a "faraway" place - in some town whose name you won’t even remember. The budget is small and A LOT of the footage we see throughout is blurry, just as it would be if you actually did accidentally capture something supernatural. At several points, the camera will zoom in on a frame while the people narrating tell you about the face/figure they saw. From your seat, you’ll be thinking “I guess it COULD be a ghost, but I’m not certain. I think there’s a good chance you people just want to believe spirits exists to alleviate some of the sadness they're feeling”. That’s deliberate.

As long as you’re wondering whether something otherworldly is actually happening to the Palmers, the film is a drama. It’s about three people who suffered a horrible tragedy and are left broken. In their own way, they're in denial about what happened. It feels as if director Joel Anderson is exploiting their grief by showing them as delusional freaks whose grip on reality has slipped. Even if his objective was to show us how devastating a loss like theirs can be, it would feel slightly exploitative.

And then, a switch flips. Suddenly, you’ll see that these people are NOT crazy, that there IS something unexplainable going on. This realization makes Lake Mungo the stuff of nightmares. Now, your brain is looking for a way to confirm that what you’re seeing is something to be afraid of. That diabolical organ in your skull goes into overdrive. I knew going in this was all fake but I got swept up in it. Now, I can't shake this creepy feeling. Lake Mungo works so well because it doesn’t cross that line. Just when you think “ok, so was the next day’s newspaper headline GHOSTS ARE REAL!!!!”? A new crumb of information will turn you into a skeptic again. You keep going back-and-forth. Joel Anderson plays you like a fiddle until the very end.

The rewatch value of Lake Mungo is difficult to gauge. So much of the enjoyment you get out of it comes from that unknown factor. Knowing what's coming next may rob it of everything that was so effective the first time. Or it might not. I suspect revisiting this story to see how all the clues fit will bring a different kind of fun to subsequent viewings. One thing’s for sure, it’s heartbreaking and heart-stopping, a great little movie that does what it wants to do remarkably well. (January 31, 2020)

#Lake Mungo #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #Joel Anderson #Talia Zucker #Rosie Traynor #David Pledger #2008 movies #2008 films #horror movies #horror films

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readeropolis · 1 year

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Errors and Exorcisms Annie Anderson (The Wrong Witch, #3) Publication date: January 5th 2023 Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy

Savannah is a Hell of a city…

After a quick jaunt to the Fae realm, I’ve come home to find my city on fire, my mate nowhere to be found, and demons running in the streets. Now, I have to help close a portal to Hell while also trying to figure out why my wonky powers are destroying reality as I know it.

And I will. Right after I find my wolf…

Errors and Exorcisms is the third book in The Wrong Witch series. If you enjoy fated mates, enemies-to-lovers, and steamy paranormal romance, then this is the series for you.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

In-laws really were the worst.

Sure, most people had clashes in personality, the odd conflict here and there, but me? I got the raw end of the deal when it came to my wife’s family. Then again, Wren could have probably said the same shit about mine—and she’d have been right, considering the throat-slitting event at our first family dinner.

But at present, she wasn’t dealing with homicidal witches hell-bent on eviscerating her from the inside out, and I was, so…

When I woke up this morning with Wren in my arms, I never thought my day would end like this. We were supposed to make sure she was ready to go to the ABI. We were supposed to laugh and joke and make love and go to bed and wake up tomorrow and do it all over again.

I wasn’t supposed to run all over Savannah trying not to get us both killed.

I wasn’t supposed to realize we both wouldn’t make it out of here.

I wasn’t supposed to tell my best friend to take her away from me.

I wasn’t supposed to tell her goodbye.

I wouldn’t trade it now. Because Wren was safe, and these women would never touch her again—as long as I could hold them back.

Dodging the blade, I nearly ran into Wren’s cracked-out mother, who was doing her level best to electrocute me to death. All things considered, I was pegging Wren’s family as the raw end of the deal. Especially since they were the reason I was never going to see her again.

“What’s the matter, Fido?” Margot simpered as she clutched a crackling ball of power in her palm. “You afraid of a little shock?”

A shock? No.

Getting roasted from the inside out? Absolutely.

Several decades my senior, the Bannister witches could make me a stain on the floor if I gave them the chance. It wasn’t like our families had ever gotten along, but ever since Eloise Bannister found out I was married to her granddaughter, I’d known my days were numbered.

I just didn’t think it would be this soon.

Author Bio:

Annie Anderson is a military wife and United States Air Force veteran. Originally from Dallas, Texas, she is a southern girl at heart, but has lived all over the US and abroad. As soon as the military stops moving her family around, she'll settle on a state, but for now she enjoys being a nomad with her husband, two daughters, an old man of a dog, and a young pup that makes life... interesting.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Pinterest

GIVEAWAY!

—

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nwdsc · 2 years

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(▶︎ Come Back To Me, But Lightly | L.T. Leif | Lost Map Recordsから)

Come Back To Me, But Lightly by L.T. Leif

ALBUM OUT 27TH JANUARY 2023 An adopted member of the Scottish DIY music scene whose life and art has been heavily shaped by northern landscapes and climes, L.T. Leif is rooted in the self-sufficient spirit of the Canadian prairies, and carries with them the indelible experience of spells spent living in Iceland and Finland. Leif has been involved in many bands and projects, first entering the scene with Calgary orchestral pop sweethearts The Consonant C. Since the group disbanded in 2011, Leif has explored many configurations and approaches, from experimental noise collaborations with the infamous Bug Incision crew to playing sold-out shows with the punk-hearted OK JAZZ, drumming with slacker-rock bands (Hex Ray and Hungry Freaks), playing synths with Matt Swann (of Astral Swanns), and singing in a witch choir (Hermitess). Leif’s admirers include K Records maestro Calvin Johnson (they toured together with The Believer Magazine). Demoed in a room on Glasgow’s Great Western Road and built intercontinentally with contributions both remote and in-person from pals near and far including Clea Anaïs, Bill Wells, Matt Swann, eagleowl’s Clarissa Cheong and Bart Owl, Faith Eliott and Mark Hamilton (Woodpigeon), Come Back To Me, But Lightly is a magical collection of sensually sylvan songs about “the body, loss as a decision, and knowing your own desire as a radical act,” says Leif. “It has a lot of imagery and thought from the northern places I’ve been living, and takes inspiration from minimalist writers, painters, and thinkers. This album comes from a six-year long space of change, from a life I was living as someone afraid of my own brain and body, into someone a lot more openly unshiney. Painful and seeping. I think that distance and decisions and loss and conflict are all things that can birth you into a different kind of being.” About the first single from the album ‘No Birds’, Leif writes: “I read once that some of the hardest and most valuable work to be done under capitalism is in wanting what you want to want [I first encountered this in Jenny Odell’s How to Do Nothing, an excellent anti-capitalist book about the attention economy]. The forthcoming album is about the blazing sun, and about changing my life completely! And this song came from the first edge of it, when I was starting to see what it was that I wanted: the dual realities of what is already and what is desired instead, overlayed like the hands of a ghost. It’s a kind of infidelity towards the life you’re living and its surrounding culture, even when beloved, when you begin to imagine something differently: that fresh day slipping out past the curtain. “The tension here comes from how what I was imagining didn’t exist yet within the culture I was living in, how even if I could see it there clearly as an option, people all around me were confidently denying it. I don’t think I knew exactly what it was that I wanted yet, but I could see it there, glimmering! The flashlight of desire. “All that wanting helps you choose what you let become real. This song is a treatise towards the shimmery possibilities we feel in there from time to time, when they are different from what’s been handed down to us. The cover image is of the beloved hands of a long-term partner, taken when our lives were entwined, but the wrong ones for both of us, before I moved away and built a new kind of life.” クレジット2022年12月27日リリース

#2212 #RC

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visd3stele · 3 years

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operation prison break

Sirius x reader - Regulus x reader (platonic)

summary: Y/n opens the door to a very unexpectedly visitor. Why, of course they jump straight on plotting something.

TW: drinking, pregnancy, mention of almost loss of pregnancy, mention of suicide goodbye note, swearing, mention of diabet (is this a warning?), mentions of characters dying, dumbledore slander

A/N: reader has she/they pronouns (constructive critisism is always welcomed)

two gifs because I couldn't decide on just one. understantable, right?

y/f/l/n - your former last name

*might continue if requested*

January, 1983

Y/n sipped directly from the bottle, trying to get even the last drop of fire whiskey stubbornly glued to the glass bottom. Watery, unfixed eyes gazed the papers messily sprawled on the table. Cold food started to go to waste somewhere under the parchments, but y/n didn't care. In an outburst of feelings that spurred out of the blue, she tossed the bottle on the floor. A strangled cry came from the witch's lips as they gripped the wooden edges of the table and furiously shook their head. She's been like this ever since october last year. When everything she fought for has been cruelly snatched from them.

The young witch in their twenties dozed off to sleep, still on the chair, still in their pencil dark blue dress and white shirt with epaulettes she used to attend a visit to the Ministry earlier.

"He's innocent." Y/n spitted through gritted teeth. She took a deep breath, collecting herself. Loosing their head would help no one. "Firstly, he has never been made Secret Keeper. James and Lily -" y/n's voice broke a little at the names of the people she called family - "they picked another. They didn't want to put us in danger." The witch touched their belly, who now looked like she had a too large lunch, but would soon be a big bump she'd barely handle.

"Secondly, he did not murder twelve muggles, nor Peter Pettigrew. Such an explosion would cost Worm- Peter, more."

"More than his whole body, burned to crisps, miss Black?" One of the Auror mocked. And it took all their Ravenclaw coolness and mobility to keep their calm.

"Yes," she stated. "Such an explosion would have ripped him apart, no evidence of his presence there whatsoever. Even if the finger survived," she added, "it'd have to be at least a little burned and greyed with ash. Which it wasn't, I read the declaration the Aurors who arrested my husband gave to the Prophet."

"Miss y/f/l/n," Dumbledore decided to cut in. "I'm afraid mister Black's participation with the Dark Lord is undisputable. Do yourself and the little one-" he glanced down at the lightly swollen belly from above his glasses -" a favor and, please, clear yourselves from his cursed name."

Y/n's eyes darted around, hopelessly. The headmaster who'd offer them warm smiles and winks whenever she scored more than a pureblood in classes at Hogwarts was against them. Not only that, but the man who always talked about justice for muggles and muggle borns and viewed purist prejudices with upmost disdain, who claimed Hogwarts would always help those in need, refused to offer Sirius a fair trial. And the old wizard had too much power and authority -having saved the wizarding world from Grindelwald - within the Ministry of Magic to succeed as long as he's against them.

"How can you do that to him?" The witch cried when she caught up with Dumbledore. With a nod to the Aurors, they all dismissed the newest Black, leaving y/n alone with her protests. "He trusted you!"

"As have I, him. But he betrayed us all."

"You don't know that. You don't." She shook her head.

But Dumbledore just smiled sadly and apparated away. Next time she saw him, it was much or less the same. Y/n just learned that Harry, her godson, would be placed in Petunia's care. Being friends with Lily since birth, having suffered alongside her the hateful words of Petunia upon finding out about magic, the witch knew he wouldn't be safe or loved there.

"Open the Potters will, then! They'd want me to take care of him."

"Unfortunately, miss Black, we cannot do that," the tiny judge spoke. "It has come to our understanding that the boy must be near his blood relatives, for safety reasons I am not to divulge."

Y/n had seen the pleased twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes as the court was dismissed and she, yet again, lost the case. "Those people hate magic and anyone who wields it as much as purists hate my guts. Why sent my godson there when he could be with someone who actually loves him?"

"I believe you have enough on your hands as it is."

"Let me decide if I can or cannot handle raising two kids!"

But the old wizard walked away on them again. All the secrets and strings pulling made y/n suspicious. So she started invastigating Dumbledore, if only to pass the time since every time she made a discovery, the Ministry would laugh in their face.

Later that year, she received a letter. Kreacher had knocked on the small apartment's door, which surprised the muggle born witch and pulled her out of the lenient state of mind for a few seconds.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to deliver his letter to the blood traitor and his wife. Kreacher did, now Kreacher can go back to poor, heartbroken mistress."

Dear brother,

Sirius,

don't break, torn, shred, burn or damage in anyway this letter, please!

Dear brother and darling sister,

If this letter found you, I am no longer on this side of the Veil. I'm sorry you have to learn the news of my passing this way. I expect mother to not invite you at the funeral, but please know it's in vain. As my body lies on the bottom of the sea and each heartbeat drags on for you.

I mean it, Sirius. Don't snort. I know you believe me as worse as our depraved family. But I had to play their game for a chance to win. Not all of us can be bold lions. Some slither through with schemes. And because I know your noble heart won't let you laugh at the pun until you know the truth, here it is: I'm trying to kill the Dark Lord from within.

I found that he made himself as close to an immortal as humans can go. He created horcruxes. Ask y/n, she most probably knows what those are. Too smart for you, my dear sister in law. Anyway, I managed to find one, and I intend to destroy it. But there are more. I don't know how many, or what they are or where. But I trust the Order to put an end to him eventually.

Until then, I must do whatever it takes to assure the Dark Lord will not survive for long. If I don't come back from it, as it the case if you read these lines, then don't mourn me.

I'm sorry, y/n, for causing you and my brother pain like this. I'm sorry Sirius, for not being a good enough brother. I'll make it up to both of you on the other side. After all, we're not saying goodbye. Because goodbye means forgetting, as y/n likes to say, and I will never forget the two most important people in my life.

Thank you, for everything you did for me

I'm sorry

Until we meet again,

R.A.B

She picked herself up. It was night already. A headache pinched at their temples. Y/n poured a cup of coffee and watched it chill as she packed the papers in boxes. There was no use of them, anyway. She can't take down a man like Dumbledore all by themself.

10 years later

Y/n has just put their son to sleep. The nine years old boy looked everything like his father. From the grey eyes and black hair, to his long eyelashes and arched eyebrows. He even got Sirius' gift of getting in troubles, but mostly managing to talk his way out of it. She lit a cigarette from the stove in the kitchen and poured themself a cup pf coffee. She ignored the cabinet of drinks. After the complications she suffered with the pregnancy because of it, y/n swore off alcohol.

A rapid knock on the door startled them. "Coming!"

Heart skipped a beat. Breathing quickened its ins and outs. Face went pale and eyes widened to cereal bowls of breakfast. Mouth moved, but the vocal chords refused to sound out words.

"Hello, sister dearest," Regulus smiled hesitantly, looking up and down from his shoes to the witch who stood frozen in the door.

"Reg- how? But... you died."

"I had to fake it, y/n. Sorry. May I come in?"

She nodded. Her brows slowly furrowed as shock turned to anger after registering his words. As soon as she closed the door and Regulus planted himself in the middle of the hallway, their fury was the only thing she could focus on.

"You had to fake it?!" Y/n whisper screeched. "You sent me a suicide note, for fuck's sake! You could have make it a 'hey, don't tell anyone I'm alive and pretend I died' letter, but no, the dramatic, brooding Regulus Black had to make it all sad and angsty! Right?" Y/n started to run out of breath, but managed to beat the Black heir with one more line thrown at him. "Give me one good reason not to hex the living shit out of you."

"I found a way to destroy the horcruxes."

Silence. Y/n took one long gulp of air after another, eyes closed. She nodded, licking their lips in an attempt to clear the chaos inside their mind. The witch brushed y/h/c strands of hair, pushing some under the ear. "Alright, ok, yeah, that's a pretty good reason."

Sensing the tension was dimming down, Regulus took the liberty to sit on the couch. Y/n disappeared in the kitchen, bringing back a trail of tea and cookies. Biting into one, more to have something to focus on than actual craving or hunger, Regulus almost spit it out.

"I should've warned you," y/n laughed. "My son's diabetic. Can't have sugar in those."

" 'S'ok. So, what happened since I left?"

The witch arched an eyebrow at the phrasing, but in truth, she didn't want to fill him in. After all, there were only bad news. "What do you want to know?"

"You mentioned a son. My nephew, how old is he?"

"Nine." Y/n smiled largely thinking of him. "You have to meet him, Reggie. He's the carbon copy of his father."

Regulus chuckled. "How does Sirius handles it? He must be out of his head with pride"

The short joy broke off y/n's face at the mention of their husband. She casted their y/c/e gaze downwards, rubbing their arms on the tight jeans material on their thighs.

"What? What happened?"

"Sirius' in Azkaban, Reggie. 'Been so for ten years. He never met his son."

The Black heir's face fell. After his sister in law explained the situation, he jumped to hos feet outraged. "I spent most of my time in Hogwarts being jealous on Potter for stealing my brother away. There is no way Sirius betrayed him!"

"I'm already convinced of that. The jury's a harsher public, though." The witch joked bitterly.

"What if I vouch for him?"

"They'd probably lock you up the second you're seen, Regulus. You played the part of loyal Death Eater scaringly well."

"Then I'd take his place. I probably deserve it. More than him, anyway. Sirius should be free, enjoying life with you and his son. He earned that much."

"Shut up, Reggie. I'm not switching the Black brothers. Sirius would never forgive me if I agree to this."

"I'll show Dumbledore what I discovered, then. I don't trust the man, but surely he'll help after that."

Y/n scoffed. With a flex of their wand she brought out the carton boxes, full of files that'd get Dumbledore a death penalty if the wizarding world had such a thing. Regulus skimmed through some, his usual bored, cold expression morphing into shock, disgust and eventually anger.

"Yeah, should've listened to Pandora when she fled the Order after Mary's death. She stood up, accused Dumbledore of being a murderer and called him a 'manipulative, deranged, old twat' then dragged Xen out the door." Y/n explained when Regulus looked questioningly at them. Hearing about his best friend's antics, the Black heir smiled.

"How's she?"

"Reggie," y/n started. She wet her lips, passed a hand over their face and leaned forward, taking Regulus' fingers between their own. "She died, Reggie. I'm sorry."

The wizard broke the contact instantly. He paced the room for several minutes, index fingers pressed under his eyes to stop the tears from flooding his face. But nothing could stop the heartbreaking sobs that shook his body. "How?"

"An experiment gone wrong."

"Impossible." Regulus said immediately. Pandora had been the brightest witch he ever met. There's no planet, universe or alternative reality where Pandora Lovegood could mess up so badly.

"That's what they say. Something was wrong with the powder she used."

"Pandora always buys only the best. She checks it herself. Every, single, time."

"She had it delivered. Had to watch her daughter."

Regulus widened his eyes, a soft gaps parting his lips at the mention of his goddaughter. "How's little Luna?"

Y/n shrugged helplessly. "She saw it. Was there when the lab exploded. She survived unscratched, but..."

"No." Regulus breathed. "No. Poor thing. She- who sold it to Pandora? The powder, you said..." the wizard's thoughts ran too fast to translate into words. But he hooked on the information he had, on someone to blame, to take his vengeance on.

"Dumbledore. Off the records."

Regulus stared at his sister in law for what seems to be hours. Struggling to understand what she was saying. Then, he furrowed his brows. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

"Pandora wrote to me. On a weekly basis. I have the letter in one of these," she waved around the boxes. "She said she needed pixie powder and Hogwarts was the quickest way to get that. But Dumbledore wanted to keep it hidden. 'M not sure why Pandora agreed, seeing her obvious doubts about the headmaster, but..."

"Bloody hell!" Regulus cursed. "Bloody hell," he seated himself again, bouncing his right leg on the puffy carpet while twirling his bottom lip between his index and thumb. "Didn't he also kept the Mcdonald girl's death a secret?"

"Mary, yes. She died before graduation and Dumbledore said he didn't want to worry the students and their parents before the ceremony. Promised the whole situation will be handled and the culprit caught and punished," y/n laughed humorlessly. "Come to think of it, Mary was quite opposed to him too. Called the headmaster out on sending children to war."

"I see..."

"...a pattern? So did I." She gestured to the boxes again, suggestively. "I thought I might get Sirius out of prison if I prove that Dumbledore's not what he seems. I thought it'd get Sirius a trial, at least and I could've prove his innocence."

"But it's hard to get at such a high placed man." Regulus finished their thought. She nodded, bowling their fists as Regulus clasped his jaws together so hard a swift click was heard from it.

"I can help you, sister darling. If we work together, Slytherin cunning and Ravenclaw genius, we'll get my brother out. Then we'll destroy the horcruxes before one of the Dark Lord's mindless followers get any ideas to revive him."

Y/n smiled and nodded. But a stray thought stopped the movement in mid unfolding. "We can't."

"What? We can't what?"

"Destroy the horcuxes, Reggie. We can't," the witch's voice became frantic. Regulus thought she's panicking. After all, he did wrote to them that he doesn't know the number of such dark objects Voldemort has. "Don't worry. What I found, will allow us to destroy them all using only the one we have: the medallion I gave Kreacher. He must still have it."

"No, Reggie. You don't understand. Harry's a- Harry is one." Y/n couldn't bring themself to say it out loud, what se discovered recently in their research on the old wizard in charge of Hogwarts. The sweet little boy she helped raise, marked and used by the Dark Lord as a container for his rotten soul.

"Harry? Who's Harry?"

"James and Lily's son, Reggie. Merlin!" She exhaled. "The whole wizarding world, probably, or at least the entire wizarding Britain - for sure - knows who Harry Potter is. Were you living under a stone?"

"More or less," Regulus admitted mysteriously. But y/n could inquire about that later. Now, she had to explain to him what she pieced together. About Harry being the prophecy child, the Dark Lord's equal. About how he'll have to sacrifice himself to rid the world of Voldemort forever. "Because he made baby Harry his last horcrux," whispered Regulus once his sister in law finished talking. "Fuck!"

"Indeed," y/n pressed their lips in a thin line, eyeing the wizard in front of them. The messy hair, cut here and there in uneven patches. The bags under his eyes and dried lips. The unusual palor of his skin, lack of color in his cheeks pushing his bones more prominently to be seen. How his clothes hanged loose and were mudded all over. Not one spot of his outfit spared of dark brown dots - she hoped was dirt and not blood - or sunked in smelly water.

"Well, little brother, welcome home," she got up, pointing to the clock on the wall. " 'Tis late. We can untangle this whole shit tomorrow. Get a shower and I'll ready the couch for you." She smiled at him. Regulus wanted to protest, but their words fully registered in his mind. "Little brother," he smiled longingly. "Does it mean I'm forgiven."

"For plotting all alone and going on a suicidal mission, having me and you brother believe you went rough? Or for faking your death even to me and adding another person to grieve on my already limping heart?" Y/n crossed their arms, stopping from throwing pillows off the couch to extend it for only as long as she talked. Once she returned to the job at hand, she threw over their shoulder. "No to either, Reggie. But I am glad you're back. I missed you, little brother."

Y/n gasped when she felt a pair of arms coming around their shoulders and a head resting atop of their own. She was two years older than Regulus, having been in the same year with Sirius at Hogwarts, but the Black heir still towered over them with a couple of centimeters. "Good to be back, y/n. I missed you too."

The witch hid their affectionate smile, but turned around and wrapped their hands around Regulus, returning the hug. She traced their fingers through his hair, discovering places where he was completely bold and pressed a soft kiss on his temple. "Shower. Bed. Then we sort things out and get our family back. Yeah?" She ordered, not really expecting an answer.

It came, anyway. "Yeah. And our revenge."

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genvieve-of-the-wood · 2 years

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Another Word For MidLife*

The Norse mythology has such powerful words to evoke feelings of otherworldliness- I wonder if there can be a word to define the passage of time a human being makes from around 45 to 65, or thereabouts.

I search Babylonian hero tales, the Mabinogion, the Vedic literature, the Torah, tales of Celtic polytheism, the glory of ancient Egypt, Indigenous stories of the land, and on and on but there is no proper term for this time that fits.

Roots of words, Latin and Greek, give me plenty of medical descriptions, but nothing of the world one enters upon this sacred and yet often ridiculed time in our life span.

I consult science, magic and alchemy. Being of witch mind, I seek out other witches, historians of the Old Ways to find the word to trap this strange time of second transformation, backwards puberty and understanding what escrow is. You see, when a thing is named, it holds power. I want to have power during this time, to not lose heart.

So serious were my endeavors I began to ruminate and despair. Until I remembered the Universe, creation of anything and the Source of Everything is Play. Imagination no longer exists if it takes itself too seriously.

Ah ha! Here is the word to describe midlife:

*Coddiwomple- English slang for a determined march towards an unsettled goal or destination

The word itself sounds like something cats would do, like have a playful fight with a rabbit.

Or a type of cookie or biscuit one serves on a saints day no one remembers in January.

But it feels right for those of us who wander with purpose towards a dreamy notion. We have left most of the lies we told ourselves in our younger days. Remember when you thought being a writer, artist, entrepreneur, learning that skill seemed impractical? Now we meander towards it with different motivations.

I do not want to be a famous musician, I want to play the guitar to strum along to the songs I love on my back porch. I do not need to monetize my paintings, but I need to make that series of pictures of a recurring dream I had. I do not wish to be competitive with my business anymore but I long to truly help others with an idea I had long ago.

Despite economics, culture, and many other factors we all have that shape us somewhat, this age, this time of the coddiwomple, is a reckoning with the past, a time where we stop beating ourselves up for choices made or not made. “Fuck this,” some of us say, “I’m tired of panic, regret, guilt and comparison.”

We traverse not towards numbers on a graph, a picture in a magazine, approval from others who use that as love currency, a version of our life dictated for us and so on- we march to meander, to see where one decision takes us, a child’s ramble into the woods. Only this time, now we truly see the forest for the trees, the afternoon sun beaming through the branches as an otherworldly cathedral- instead of always afraid of the roots to trip on.

@genvieve-of-the-wood December 18, 2021

#writerscreedchallenge #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #smittenbypoetry #prose #alt lit #coddiwomple #genvieve-of-the-wood

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thebrotherssalvatore321 · 3 years

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Keeping Secrets Ch. 51

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

A/N: According to the TVD universe timeline I’ve been using, Hayley was pregnant with Hope for like, a year and a half or some crazy crap. So just so you guys know in this story, Baby M. was conceived in late March, putting Katie’s due date in late December or early January.

Late October (The day after Rebekah left)

Katie, sleeping with her back to Klaus’s chest, was woken up by the feel of him slipping his fingertips lightly up her bare arm, skipping over the strap of her pajama top as he moved them over her shoulder and across her chest. Curious about what he’d do next she kept her eyes closed, pretending to still be asleep. He traced back over his previous path then down her side and over her thigh that he gently gripped. The touch sent a tingle throughout her body, but she tried her best to hide her reaction.

Since that didn’t wake her he slowly moved his hand up and under her pajama shorts and she almost had to bite her lip to hide her reaction to his teasing. He knew she was awake, not from her relaxed face or slow even breathing, but from the beat of her heart, that skipped at his tempting touches. With his hand now on her hip he pulled her closer then went back to lightly slipping his fingertips over her smooth exposed skin. When he moved his hand back to her chest and pressed his palm to it, his fingertips touching the hollow of her neck, her heart skipped again and he couldn’t hold back his chuckle. “You are an amazing actress, Little Phoenix, but the beating of your heart betrays you.”

She smiled, but didn’t open her eyes. “I’ll work in it.”

“Why do you attempt to fool me?” he asked, letting his eyes skim her face.

“Because I’m afraid if I open my eyes you’ll stop touching me like that.” she answered then opened her eyes to see him studying her face. “I missed you.” he placed the backs of his fingers on her cheek and stroked it with his thumb. “When those witches took you I…” she narrowed her eyes and shook her head, “I hated not being able to help you, not knowing where you were or what they were doing to you. How did they manage to take you down anyway?”

“While Elijah was saving you from that burning house, Sophie Deveraux stabbed me with Papa Tunde’s blade. I passed out and woke up in the sanatorium.” He answered then dropped his hand to rest on the side of her neck.

“Well, the next time I see her I’m going to bust one of Bonnie’s magic muting bombs in her face and break her neck.” Katie said through gritted teeth.

“I would pay to see that, Little Phoenix, however someone beat you to the punch.” He told her getting a curious look from her. “Sophie is dead, Elijah didn’t tell you?” he asked and she shook her head no.

“So what happened to you, at the sanatorium?” Katie asked, getting back on topic.

“Genevieve shackled me to a chair, took the blade out, kept me weak and linked my mind to Rebekah’s. While we were linked Genevieve forced Rebekah to take a walk down memory lane revealing her betrayal.” he answered.

“Why? What did Genevieve get out of it?” Katie asked with a frown.

“Revenge against Rebekah.” Klaus answered.

Katie gave him a confused shake of her head. “I know Rebekah used her to bring your father here, but that doesn’t seem reason enough to completely wreck someone’s family.”

“When Genevieve found out exactly who she brought to town and that Mikael would kill me she threatened to come to me and beg for forgiveness for what she had unknowingly done. Rebekah could not let that happen, so she infected Genevieve and her nosey little friend with Spanish influenza and had them locked in quarantine until they died.”

“Do you happen to know the name of the friend?” Katie asked curiously.

“Clara I think.” He answered, “Why?”

“Things are making so much more sense now.” Katie said with a look around and a shake of her head. “In 1919 Celeste was using Clara’s body. Both Celeste and Genevieve were victims of Mikaelson mistakes and Bastianna went along with everything because she was mad at Father K. and Marcel for screwing up the harvest ritual.”

To change the subject Klaus slipped his hand over her growing stomach and asked, “How is our little princess?”

“I haven’t felt her move in a while. I’m worried.” Katie admitted as she slipped her hand over his and looked down at her dark blue pajama tank top covered stomach.

“Her heartbeat is as strong as ever.” He told her as he brushed his thumb back and forth over her stomach. “We can find a doctor in town to take you to if you need more reassurance.”

She was about to take him up on the offer when the baby kicked hard, making their hands move. “Nope, I think I know what the problem was.” Katie told him as she gave his shoulder a push then moved to straddle him.

“Yeah?” he asked, placing his hands on her hips as she settled into his lap.

“She, like her mother, simply missed you.” She was about to lean in and kiss him when her phone on the bedside table chimed so she leaned over and grabbed it.

“If that is Nate I’m going to get jealous.” He told her with a bit of a smirk.

“It’s Hayley.” She replied as she opened the text. “Did you know the crescent wolves have been cursed to only be human on the full moon?” she asked and he shook his head no. “Elijah told me about it and Hayley came to me the day before yesterday asking for information in exchange for helping keep the peace between us and the wolves. Turns out Celeste cursed them while hopping a ride in a Deveraux witch’s body.” Klaus slipped his hands up her sides as she read the text, going back to caressing her like he had been before they started talking. “According to this message Hayley got to Celeste before Elijah killed her and got what she needed to cure her people.” Katie texted back, “Awesome.” and a smiley face emoji then put her phone away. “On the subject of Nate, who’s not gay just so you know,” Klaus gave her an I-knew-it look. “Oh don’t look at me like that. Straight or not he’s not interested in me like that. Besides, I doubt I’ll be talking to him anytime soon considering he’s been banished from the quarter. It seems it’s not meant for me to have friends here.”

“Why not get Bonnie to make a daylight ring for Josh?” Klaus asked. “He’s completely loyal to Marcel and you’ve expressed the desire for his friendship in the past.”

“Bonnie doesn’t make those rings for just anyone. She didn’t even want to make one for me, but Damon and Elena talked her into it and I had to promise that I wouldn’t feed on people before I could have it.” she said with a shake of her head. “And I kept that promise up until I stopped clinging so tightly to a relationship that was doomed from the beginning.”

“So that’s why your compulsion sucked when we first met.” He said with a small smile at the memory of the guy that Klaus almost killed at homecoming.

“Pretty much.” She nodded. “And after getting compelled by Elijah I have to wonder if all compulsion feels that invasive and violating or just what he compelled me to do.”

“You’re livid with him for that, aren't you?” he asked, seeing a spark in her eyes.

“Livid is an understatement.” she answered with a nod as she dropped her eyes to his shirt covered chest. “That slap was not satisfying enough.” She looked into his eyes. “I’m guessing you’re mad at him for defending Rebekah.”

“As well as a plethora of other things.” He replied then slipped his hand over her cheek and pulled her down for a slow, sweet kiss. “Less discussion.” He whispered then started kissing his way to her neck, pulling a sigh from her when he grazed his teeth over the sensitive skin. “Show me how much you missed me.” he whispered then kissed her earlobe as he threaded his fingers through her long, wavy auburn locks at the nape of her neck. She pulled back and looked him in the eyes as she grabbed the hem of the grey wife beater he’d worn to sleep and pulled it over his head. His hands settled on her sides as she tossed the shirt aside then turned her eyes to his torso, slipping her fingertips over his shoulders, his collarbones, down his chest, over his perfectly toned abs and around to hold his sides. She leaned forward and kissed his chest slowly working her way up to his neck where she nibbled, pulling a sigh from him as his hands lightly squeezed her hips.

She kissed just below his ear before she whispered, “Tá tú gan locht.” “You are perfect.” Her words, spoken seductively in her native tongue, made a toe curling groan slip from his lips and he wanted to take her right then, but after two nights without her, he wanted to make the moment last. So she kissed down to his chest, "tá tú dathúil." "You are handsome." she kissed over to one of his nipples and swirled her tongue around it making him sigh and back to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangled in her hair. "Tá tú blasta..." "You are delicious..." she pulled back and looked into his lust veiled eyes, “and...Kingdom or no kingdom…'' She moved to sit on her knees beside him, "village or no village," removed the blankets from his lap then slipped her fingertips up his inner thigh stopping at the line of his boxers then leaned up and caught his lips in a kiss that quickly heated up. When it finally broke she opened her eyes, her bright greens meeting his steel blues, "beidh tú i mo rí go deo." "you will forever be my king."

A gasp left his lips as he whooshed to his knees, one hand still on the back of her neck and the other pressed to her lower back, holding her as close to him as her belly would allow. Her hands pressed into his back as he caught her lips with his. Every ounce of passion, how much what she said meant to him washing over her like a tidal wave. As his tongue found hers her hands slipped down to his lower back, lightly scratching him as she moved her hands to hold his sides, steadying herself. He broke the kiss and cupped her cheek in his large hand as he looked into her equally lust clouded eyes. “Tá tú, mo bhanríon, ar meisciúil.” “You, my queen, are intoxicating.” She’d known he could understand her when she spoke Irish, but she didn’t know he could speak it and doing so caused an overwhelming amount of love and desire to wash over her.

A smile spread over her lips before she bit her bottom one and let it slip between her teeth. “Say that again.”

“Tá tú meisciúil.” “You’re intoxicating.” He repeated as he brushed his thumb over her cheek.

“The other part.” She told him with a smirk.

“Mo bhanríon.” “My Queen.” He picked up her left hand from his side and looked down at the tiara on her finger, sat it and her other hand on his shoulders then grabbed her butt with one hand and her back with the other, picking her up. A laugh left her lips as she wrapped her legs around him and he laid her back cutting off her laugh with his lips on hers.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie stood in the kitchen making a late breakfast when Elijah walked in. “Where is Niklaus this morning?” he asked as he leaned on the frame of the archway that led into the room.

“His studio.” She answered flatly, not looking up from the banana she was slicing. She was hoping he’d go away in pursuit of Klaus, but instead he walked over to stand beside her, leaning his hip on the edge of the counter.

“I owe you an apology.” He told her as he set his hand on the bar next to the cutting board.

She flipped the knife around in her hand, slammed it down into the back of his hand. He looked at his hand and the knife that she still held onto then back at her. She looked into his brown eyes with a glare that he was unfortunately getting used to being aimed at him. “I am getting, so sick of your apologies.” She told him through gritted teeth. “Thanks to you, in the back of my head I am still unwillingly coming up with ways to excuse what Rebekah has done.”

“You are the one person he listens to. I needed you to talk him down.” Elijah reasoned.

“Playing mediator was not my job or my wish at that moment.” She argued angrily as she jerked the blade out of his hand and tossed it into the sink. “He looked like death warmed over and all I wanted was to be there for him, however he needed me. Rather that was simply nursing him back to health or talking him out of killing his sister.”

“You made it perfectly clear you had no intentions of that.” Elijah pointed out.

“I was angry with her and pissed at you for stabbing him!” She yelled at him, but she stopped, closed her eyes and placed her hands on the bar as she took a deep breath then let it out. “I said things I didn’t mean. If you seriously think I’d ever really want him to kill her,” she looked back up at him, “for him to live, knowing that he was the one that took her from this world…then you really don’t know me at all.”

“Yes, well, you were not the only one who was angry.” He pulled the handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the blood from his hand where she had stabbed him.

“Oh I’m aware.” She used her hand to scrape the banana slices off of the cutting board into a bowl of honey nut cheerios. “Klaus and Rebekah aren’t the only ones who inherited the Mikaelson temper. You, in your anger, kicked a friend of mine out of this house.”

“You made a friend amongst the riffraff. Why does that not surprise me?” he asked, his air of superiority pissing her off.

She grabbed the jug of milk out of the fridge and took the cap off. “Just because they were loyal to Marcel and Klaus does not make them unworthy of being in the presence of the holier-than-thou Elijah Mikaelson.” She poured some milk in her bowl then capped it and looked at Elijah. “My friend's name is Nate and he is welcome here anytime I damn well please.” She grabbed her bowl of cereal and took a bite.

“If I find out he has less than honorable intentions for you I will put an end to them.” Elijah warned her.

“I’ve come to expect no less from you.” she replied and started to walk off.

“Katie.” She turned back to him with a sigh and an eye roll. He walked over to her, placed his fingertips on her cheek then looked into her eyes. “You are free of my compulsion.”

She blinked out of the compulsive state then took his hand off her face. “Thank you. Now, if you ever compel me again, you can expect more than a slap to the face and a knife through your hand.”

TVDTVDTVD

Later that evening Elijah led Katie to the court yard where Nate stood near the fountain. “He asked to speak to you.” Elijah told her as they walked down the stairs.

“Nate, what are you doing here? Elijah could have killed you.” Katie asked as she walked over to him and the other two vampires.

“I don’t want to leave the quarter. It’s my home.” Nate answered. “Most of the others are across the river following Diego, but I have a different leader in mind.” He made a motion at her with his hand.

“Me?” Katie asked with raised brows and a disbelieving tone. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Hear me out.” He told her defensively. “I understand that you have Klaus and Elijah, but they can’t always be with you. You’ve complained in the past about not being about to go out and about without one of them with you to make sure the witches leave you be. You need a body guard since your dad left. Besides, I kind of thought we had become friends and I don’t leave my friends even when an original tells me to.” He glanced at Elijah who was standing behind Katie then back at her.

“Don’t you have friends amongst the people that you’re leaving behind for me?” Katie asked with a narrow eyed head shake.

“Not really, no.” he answered as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “I’ve lived here for five years. Only a year of that has been spent with Marcel and his people and the whole time I was with them I never felt like I was one of them. You’re the first friend I’ve had here.” He finished with a shrug.

“Then how did you get a daylight ring so fast?” Katie asked.

“I was a vampire before I moved here. Not all witches hate vampires, as you well know.” He pointed out with a motion to the daylight ring she still wore. “If I have to follow a leader to live in this city then I choose you.” he told her with a shrug.

“I say he can stay.” Klaus’s voice hit their ears and they both looked at him as he walked down the stairs to stand beside Elijah. “Though, I’m not sure my opinion is the one that matters at the moment.”

“I would like him to stay here and be able to come and go as he pleases.” Katie said with a look at Elijah.

Elijah frowned in thought and crossed his arms over his chest. After a few seconds that felt like minutes he gave Katie a nod then looked at Nate. “Do not make me regret letting you stay.” Nate gave him a nod.

A Week Later

Katie sat at a chair at the hair salon in the quarter, the hairdresser cutting her long hair that hadn’t been cut in over a year, back into the style Katie preferred which was shoulder length with layers and side bangs. Nate sat in a chair outside keeping an eye on every person that entered the salon while pretending to read a newspaper.

“You know,” Genevieve said as she sat down in the empty chair next to Katie that wasn’t being used by a hairdresser, “You may have Klaus wrapped around your finger, but I’ll have that little knot untied in no time.”

“Excuse me?” Katie asked with raised brows as she looked at Genevieve out of the corners of her eyes, not able to turn her head for fear of messing up her stylist.

Genevieve propped her elbow up on the armrest of the chair. “Once he sees how powerful I am and that I can offer him things you could never dream of, he’ll realize you are nothing more than a has been.”

“You’re forgetting two little problems with your theory.” Katie pointed out, turning her head while her stylist sprayed her hair with water, to give Genevieve a glare. “I’m pregnant with his daughter, and he loves me. He’d never leave me for an overconfident little witch bitch like you.”

Genevieve looked at her painted red nails and shrugged. “We’ll see about that.” she gave Katie a confident smirk as she stood and walked away.

Not two seconds later Nate sat down beside her. “I tried to stop her, but she did that stupid thing witches do where they make it feel like your head’s going to explode.” He told her with a rub of his temples.

“It’s fine.” She told him with a shake of her head.

“Are you gonna tell Klaus?” he asked, sounding worried.

“That a witch got past you or that said witch is out to snatch him away from me?” she asked with a look at him before the stylist asked her to look straight ahead. So she did.

“Um…both?” he answered though it sounded more like a question.

“I have to warn him that she’s after him, even though she could try as hard as she wanted to and she’d never come between us.” she answered. “Don’t worry about Klaus. Unless you do something incredibly stupid like side with our enemies, you’re safe.”

Present Time

Elijah stood in the doorway of Katie’s recording studio watching her where she sat on the couch in the control room, practicing guitar that she’d been getting lessons to play. She’s also been getting lessons on recording and writing music. “What is that you’re playing?” he asked curiously.

“You mean other than a guitar?” she asked then looked away from her fingers on the guitar strings to give him a smile that let him know she was joking with him. He gave her a small, fleeting smile back as he walked in and sat down in the chair at the control table, facing her. “It’s a song of mine, ‘Lonely’.” She answered.

“May I hear it?” he asked hopefully.

“Mmmm…I don’t know…” she answered with a draw. “It’s kind of depressing and I’m not that good yet.” She reasoned with a motion to the guitar.

“I promise not to judge.” He told her with a serious look then gave her a small smile.

“Fine…” she sighed then turned her attention to her guitar and started playing a slow, melancholy tune and sang. “I’m slowly killing myself. Trying so hard at the back of the shelf. It’s just the same every day. I’m writing these songs that will never get played. I get told what’s wrong and what’s right. I don’t have a fantastic life. Everyone’s dying so I keep on trying to make ‘em proud before they’re gone. Can’t someone help me, please, someone help me. I don’t care, anyone or anything ‘cause I’m so sick of being so lonely.” She finished at what she had learned to play then looked at Elijah to see him frowning. “It sucks, I know…” she sighed and set the guitar on the couch beside her.

“No, it was good.” Elijah countered still with a frown on his face. “When did you write it?”

“The end of sophomore year, right after Elena’s parents died. Why?” she asked with a frown.

“Because what I just heard was a literal cry for help.” He told her, sounding really worried.

“Let me guess you thought I’d been feeling neglected by Klaus and lonely because he’s been…entertaining, Genevieve.” She said with a smirk that told him he was being ridiculous. He just nodded. “I knew what I was getting into when we started this whole thing. He’s not neglecting me. I still get just as much time with him as I always did. She gets his days, I get his nights and after Klaus’s wolf relatives and the crescent wolves have moonlight rings on their fingers…she gets dropped on her bony little ass.”

“You are aware that in order to keep up the charade Klaus will eventually be required to give her some of your nights, right?” Elijah pointed out.

“I’m aware.” Katie nodded.

“She will grow suspicious if she even so much as suspects that you and Klaus are still together.” He reminded her.

“And have I not played my part perfectly?” Katie asked, getting irritated with him.

“You have, which is what confuses me.” he told her with a frown. “How are you okay with him indulging her?”

“Because I know where his heart truly lies and that everything that happens between them means absolutely nothing to him and everything to her.” Katie argued.

“How can you so callously crush someone’s heart when yours has been broken so many times?” Elijah asked.

“Because after torturing him and Rebekah, threatening to take Klaus from me and therefore break up yet another part of his family she deserves to get dropped on her ass.” Katie answered then decided to change the subject a bit. “So how’s it going with your end of things?”

“I have gotten the new faction leaders to agree to a meeting this afternoon.” He answered. “Would you like to join me in leading it?” he asked, catching Katie a little off guard. “Diego and Hayley respect you.”

“Yes, but Genevieve will be there representing the witches. Witches, who I need not remind you, I have a special hatred of. Putting the two of us in one room together will be like putting two angry vipers in a tank and watching them fight to the death. It will be counter productive to the mission.” Katie pointed out.

“Yes, you are probably right about that.” he agreed.

“Is she gone yet?” Katie asked, missing the enhanced hearing she once had as a vampire.

Elijah listened for a moment. “No. She and Niklaus are talking, but it’s nothing of import. Would you like me to interrupt and urge her to leave?”

“Yes, please.” Katie told him with a thankful look.

TVDTVDTVD

That afternoon, while Elijah and Genevieve were at the summit, Katie and Klaus had lunch together. “So, how are things with Genevieve?” Katie asked before she took a bite of her b.l.t. sandwich.

“I believe she has grown suspicious.” He answered making Katie give him a curious look. “I noticed a willows hoop dream catcher, adorned with the bones and feet of a chicken, on a shelf in our quarters.”

“She’s spying on you.” Katie observed getting a look from Klaus that asked how she knew about the witch’s use of dream catcher spy glasses. “Fiona’s mother used them all the time to keep tabs on my father. That way she wouldn’t get caught healing my back.”

Klaus looked at her with sadness in his eyes and she knew it was because he too knew what it felt like to have his flesh split open with tiny strips of leather. He took a deep breath, then let it out and took a bite of his lunch. “Yes, she is spying on me. So we can no longer sleep in our quarters.”

“Because if you move or destroy the dream catcher it will only further her suspicions.” Katie sighed.

“And I’m afraid her suspicion stems from the fact that she and I have been taking it too slow. My actions do not match my reputation.” He added. “It is time I took the next step with her…”

“Well,” Katie paused to swallow the food in her mouth then continued, “we knew this was going to happen sooner or later.” she pushed her empty plate away and took a drink of water from the clear wine glass.

“I can not tell if you are hiding your resentment with indifference or if you truly do not care rather or not I sleep with Genevieve.” He observed.

“Klaus…” she sighed as she stood from the chair and walked around the table to lean her butt against it as she looked down at him, “I truly don’t care if you have sex with her. If you’re comfortable using it as a tool of manipulation then so am I.” she assured him. “All of this…Elijah working to unite the factions, us empowering the werewolves and manipulating Genevieve into doing so…it’s all to achieve one main goal.” She placed her hand on his cheek. “Create a safe environment for our daughter with you and the werewolves at the top of the totem pole. It will take time, but I have all faith that we can make it happen.” He scooted his chair back and grabbed her hips as she slid to stand in front of him. “I’ve asked you before and I have to ask again…are you comfortable using sex to manipulate her?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t done a thousand times before.” He answered as he slipped a hand over her stomach. “It’s easy when she means absolutely nothing to me.” she gave him a look that asked him to give her a straight answer. “Yes, I am comfortable with it.”

“Then we have nothing to worry about.” She told him then leaned down and pressed her lips to his. “Though I worry a little,” she made a pinching gesture with her thumb and pointer finger, “that she will be better than me, all things considered.” Her eyes glanced down at her massive stomach.

“You needn’t worry about that.” Klaus assured her as he stood up and looked down at her.

“But I do.” She replied as she slid her hands up his chest. “I can hardly breath these days much less satisfy you…” her eyes slipped from his to look at her hands on his chest. “Besides, you clearly have a thing for redheads considering I found a painting you made of a very beautiful woman with long, wavy, red locks in the attic.”

“How do you know it’s one of mine?” Klaus asked with a tilt of his head.

“Because I’ve watched you paint enough to know your brushstrokes when I see them.” Katie answered.

“I’ll admit to having a predilection for red hair.” he told her before he pecked her on the end of her nose, “However, you…are the red head I crave every second I am away from you.” he leaned down and caught her lips in a long, slow, sweet kiss.

When it broke she looked into his blue eyes. “I love you, Big Bad Wolf.” He just smiled and slipped his thumb over her cheekbone. “So…how’s Father Kieran?”

“His lucidity is slowly deteriorating.” Klaus answered. “I’ve heard talk of him being replaced as the leader of the human faction.”

“By who?” Katie asked with a frown.

“Francesca Correa.” He answered. “She is the city’s leading philanthropist.”

“So she’s a do-gooder like Father K.?” Katie asked curiously.

“She also owns the biggest casino in the city and is the matriarch to a rather sizable drug trafficking empire.” He added.

“Okay…definitely not a do-gooder.” Katie drawled. “Have you spoken to Cami?” Klaus just shook his head as his cell phone dinged in his back pocket.

“The summit is over. No doubt Genevieve will be here soon.” He told her.

“I will be so glad when this is all done and she is banned from this house.” Katie sighed.

“That makes two of us.” Klaus told her then pecked her on the lips. “Until then we all have our parts to play.”

Katie simply blew air between her lips as she led her head fall forward to rest on his chest. Knowing what she was feeling he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

TVDTVDTVD

With Nate at her side Katie looked through maternity dresses on a rack in the local maternity boutique. “So why are you going to this party?” Nate asked as he looked through a rack then held up a black dress and she shook her head no.

“Because it’s partially my responsibility to help Klaus and Elijah make this place safe for my child to grow up in.” She answered and he held up another dress. “Ooh, I like that one.” She took it from him when he held it out to her and draped it over her arm. “And you wonder why I thought you were gay when we first met.” She commented with a playful smile.

“Hey, a guy doesn’t have to be gay to know what will look good on a woman.” He defended.

“Oh I’m aware.” she replied with a laugh.

“For curiosity’s sake why did you think I was gay?” he asked as he held up another dress that she liked and tossed it over her arm.

“You’re pretty for a guy.” She answered and he gave her a “get serious” look. “And I mean that in a very…Jensen Ackles kind of way.”

“Thanks…I think.” He told her as he held up another dress and she shook her head.

“You’re welcome.” She told him then looked at her arm to see that she had way too many dresses stacked on it. “I’m going to go try these on.” After waiting for what felt like forever for her to be done she stepped out of the dressing room in a dark blue form fitting dress that stopped just above her knees with a deep v cowl neckline and long sleeves. “Be honest, what do you think? Is it too plain?”

“I think if you wear that dress every male at the party as well as some females might have heart attacks.” He answered.

“Is that a good thing?” Katie asked with an unsure look down at the generous amount of cleavage that the dress revealed.

“Yes.” He answered. “And no, it’s not too plain.”

“It doesn’t look like I’m trying way too hard to be sexy when in reality I look like a blue whale?” she asked self-consciously.

“No.” he answered. “If your goal is to make Klaus remember what he left for a shapeless bean pole with no personality setting other than bitch, then this is your dress.”

“What would I do without you?” Katie asked fondly.

“You would be a hopeless mess too scared to leave the compound.” He answered, then smiled and shook his head. “Na, you’d be just fine, friendless, but fine. Now go change, I still need to buy something to wear to this fancy pants shindig.”

She ducked back behind the curtain of the changing room. “You’re coming tonight?” she asked knowing that parties weren’t usually his thing.

“You think I’m going to let you walk into a room of witches, werewolves and vampires without a bodyguard?” he asked as if her question was silly. “No. I’m your self appointed friend date.”

Katie just laughed to herself at his silly over protectiveness. “You know both Elijah and Klaus will be there right? Neither of them will let anything happen to me.”

“Yes, but Elijah will most likely be working the floor ensuring that everyone gets along with each other and Klaus will have his head up Genevieve’s butt.” He pointed out.

“Okay, fine, you can be my friend date.” She told him as she pulled her maternity shirt over her head then stepped out of the booth and shrugged her jacket on.

TVDTVDTVD

Loud dance music floated upstairs from the party that was kicking off downstairs and into the bedroom that was attached to the nursery where Katie stood at a vanity fastening a shimmering bracelet around her wrist. When it was secured she took off the necklace Klaus had given her and added some small shimmering beads to the chain dressing it up to match the form flattering dress. Klaus let himself in and quietly closed the door. Katie turned to see him dressed in a black suit with a black dress shirt and a black and gold printed tie. “Hello handsome.” Katie greeted with an appreciative tone that suggested if she had it her way they wouldn’t leave the bedroom at all tonight.

Klaus growled, low and deep, as he sat his hands on her waist then slid them down to her hips and caught her lips with his. “Was it your intention, when you chose that dress, to torture me all night?”

Katie laughed and he noticed a devious tone in it. “I chose it to show Genevieve that regardless of what she thinks even eight months pregnant I’m still sexier than she’ll ever be. Torturing you and making you think only of me all night was just a happy side note.”

He gave her an impressed look with his lust filled eyes. “You haven’t peeked at the nursery have you?” he asked considering he knew it was tempting to do so, but he hadn’t finished it yet and didn’t want her to see it until he was done.

“I promised you I wouldn’t.” she told him with an eye roll and he gave her a look that told her to be honest. “No, I haven’t peeked at your unfinished project.”

“And you remember your role for tonight?” he asked, getting back to business.

“Yep, hang out with Nate, look defeated when I see you with Genevieve, help keep an eye out for tension and if need be distract Genevieve catty, immature banter while you’re talking to Jackson who is the alpha of one of the two branches of crescent wolves.” She answered then slid her hands over the smooth skin of his neck.

He smiled down at her but it faded when an uncomfortable look flashed across her face and she placed her hand on her stomach. “What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly concerned.

“It’s nothing.” She assured him with a shake of her head as her face relaxed.

“Katie.” He drawled in a warning tone.

“Klaus.” She mimicked back. “It’s just Braxton hicks.”

“You’re sure?” he asked with wide worried eyes.

“I’m sure.” She assured him then dropped her hand from her loosening stomach. “I know what contractions feel like. I’ll tell you when I start feeling the real thing.” He breathed out a heavy breath and rested his forehead on hers. “I know you grow more anxious the closer we get to the due date…” she sighed as she grabbed his hands off of her hips and threaded their fingers together as she looked into his steel blue eyes. “But we’ll be okay.”

It was rare for him to let her see him vulnerable, but every time he did it just reminded her how much he cared for her and trusted her. Eventually, as the music outside grew louder, Klaus let go of her hands and pecked her on the lips. “Let’s get this show on the road shall we?” he asked as he held his hand out to the door for her to go first.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie and Nate were sitting at a table munching on some hors d’oeuvres when Genevieve and the three harvest girls walked in from one entrance. At the same time, a group of people led by two rustically handsome men, one with long blond hair and the other with shorter, but still long brown hair, came in from the second. “I’m guessing those guys are the crescent wolves?” Katie asked Nate.

“Yep. Something tells me it’s only a matter of time before this party gets interesting.” He answered then noticed her plate was empty so he grabbed his then motioned to hers, “you done with that?” she gave him a nod so he went to pass the plates off to a waiter. While he was gone she watched Elijah join the party and Katie was going to go talk to him and compliment him on his party planning skills, but another woman beat her to it and started flirting with him. “Feeling jealous?” Nate asked as he joined her at the tall table and handed her a champagne flute of sparkling white grape juice.

“What?” she asked looking away from the woman and Elijah, to a smirking Nate. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Um, probably because you two were a thing once upon a time.” He answered getting a frown from Katie considering she never told him about her past with Elijah. “It’s kind of public knowledge that you were soul bound to him and the link only broke because your soul shattered. The recovery from which led to you being able to get knocked up by Klaus when you were still a vampire.”

“My life’s story is public knowledge?” she asked with raised brows and he nodded. “Wow, that sucks. But to answer your question, no I’m not jealous. I’m curious.” She told him with a sigh then looked to see that Elijah was elsewhere, but the woman still stood at the table choosing desserts.

“You’re curious?” he asked disbelievingly.

“Last I heard he was dating Hayley. So when I see him flirting with whoever that chick is, yeah I get a touch curious.” She defended.

“That chick is Francesca Correa.” Nate informed her with a smirk.

“Would it completely and totally annoy you if I asked you to be nosey and tell me what Elijah and Diego are talking about?” Katie asked with a nod of her head at the two men.

“Not at all, I love being nosey.” He told her with an interested smirk then noticed her giving him a look. “What, guys can be nosey too.”

“I knew there was a reason I like you.” she told him with a laugh that he playfully shushed.

“Elijah is telling Diego to be polite and welcoming to the wolves, but they killed Diego’s family and would have killed him too had Marcel not saved him.” Nate told her while continuing to listen then Katie watched as Elijah said something to Diego and walked away.

“What did Elijah say back?” Katie asked, but when she looked at Nate she saw that he was looking off to the side and up. She followed his gaze and realized he’d noticed Klaus and Genevieve standing on the upper balcony talking.

“Elijah used fancy words to tell him to suck it up and Genevieve just called you a walking incubator with trashy taste in fashion.” He answered. The insult didn’t bother her, it wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard a thousand times before in her life. What bothered her was when Klaus placed his hand on Genevieve’s shoulder and said something to make her smile before he kissed her.

It wasn’t passionate or even a lingering kiss, but it was still a kiss and the first time Katie had actually seen them together. “If you squeeze that glass any harder it’s going to break and slice your hand open. I don’t need to tell you how bad that would be given the amount of vampires in the building.” Katie tore her eyes off of Genevieve, who’d seen her giving them a glare that if looks could kill would have Genevieve coughing up blood, then set her flute of juice on the table. She flexed her fingers and took a deep breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She answered. He ducked into her line of vision and raised his brows at her. “No, but…I have to be.” She told him with a sigh. “Otherwise I’m not and I can’t deal with that right now.”

“Well, I would offer you a drink, but…” he motioned to her stomach.

“Yeah, trust me, if I wasn’t pregnant I would have found my way to the nearest container of bourbon and drank half of it already.” She told him with an aggravated look then picked up her glass and downed it.

“You know they say the last month of pregnancy is all hormones and mood swings. So, just, keep that in mind.” He told her in an attempt to make her feel like less of a crazy person and she gave him a thankful look.

An hour later, Nate had left her to dance with a witch that had been eyeing him all night. So Katie stood at the table by herself watching him dance with the witch and Elijah dance with Hayley. She was supposed to be keeping an eye out for fighting or tension, but so far the entire party had been going according to plan. So when Jackson, the rustically handsome brunette werewolf, interrupted Elijah and Hayley and Hayley started dancing with him, Katie left the table she’d been hanging out at to go to Elijah. “Save me from my boredom?” she asked with her hand held out to him.

“Gladly.” He took it and gave her a spin before she placed her other hand on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Did she just ditch you?” Katie asked with a glance at Hayley.

“She just informed me that she and Jackson were betrothed right after their birth and considering she is eight weeks pregnant with his child they are going through with the ceremony.” He told her with a displeased look.

“But Jackson and the other crescents haven’t even been cured for a full month.” Katie thought out loud. “So that means…” she couldn’t make herself finish her sentence. It meant that Hayley has slept with Jackson while being courted by Elijah. “I warned her-”

“It’s fine.” He cut her off.

“She cheated on you. That’s not okay in my book.” Katie argued with a frown and a glare at Hayley who saw and averted her eyes in shame.

“They got caught up during a full moon and sparks flew.” He defended Hayley. “I can’t say I do not know the feeling.” She knew from the look in his chocolate browns that he was talking about the sparks that once flew between the two of them. “I just did not feel it with her.”

“What about Francesca Correa?” Katie asked and he narrowed his eyes and shook his head not knowing what she was talking about. “I saw you two flirting earlier.”

“She flirted first and I flattered her because she is the new head of the human faction.” He explained.

“Either way, she has a thing for you.” Katie told him noticing Francesca gave Katie the stink eye. “She doesn’t like that I’m dancing with you.”

“Well, you are incredibly threatening to the entire female population in that dress.” He replied purposely making it a point to not look any lower down than her eyes.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She told him before he gave her another twirl making her smile.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie was dancing with Nate when a confrontation between the blond werewolf guy, who’s name she’d learned was Oliver, and Diego broke out. As soon as Diego threw Oliver into a glass table, shattering it, Nate whooshed Katie up to the second floor away from the fight. Soon after, Elijah pinned Oliver’s head down on a table while Jackson held Diego against one of the wooden columns with a stake on his chest. “This ends now. I won’t ask again.” Elijah told Oliver.

“Oh we’ll end it alright.” Jackson said, making Elijah look over his shoulder to see that he had Diego pinned down.

“So end it.” Katie spoke up as she left Nate and started walking down the stairs and into the middle of the courtyard. “Kill each other. Get it all over with.”

When she walked past Klaus where he had been talking to Francesca she heard her ask him, “Shouldn’t you intervene or something?”

“Why would I? This party just got interesting.” Klaus replied. “Besides, I want to know what’s going to come out of that talented little mouth of hers.”

Katie ignored him and kept her eyes on Elijah and Jackson. “Except that it won’t be over. It will just be one more hate crime to add to the long list. Let’s take a look at the “crimes” each of the factions shall we?” She air quoted the word crimes as she looked at Jackson and Oliver. “The werewolves have a natural and uncontrollable tendency to turn feral one night a month and tear people to shreds. Therefore getting on everyone’s bad side and we all know that the wolves and vampires have hated each other since the creation of time.”

She turned her eyes to Elijah and Diego. “Then there's the vampires who ticked off the witches by throwing a wrench into their harvest ritual and using one of their own to control them. And, well, they anger the werewolves and humans simply by existing.”

From there she looked at the witches. “In retaliation for the vampires and the leader of the human faction getting in the way of them gaining more power with their ritual, the witches hexed not one, but two humans. Long before that they also cursed the werewolves to live in their wolf form save one day of the month. And to top it all off they’ve angered the original vampires with their repeated attempts to get rid of my unborn child.”

Lastly she looked at Francesca, “Then there’s the human’s…” she sighed. “From what I’ve seen they turn a blind eye as long as the money keeps rolling in and when it stops they go on a killing spree of whatever faction cut them off.”

“Are you approaching a point?” Elijah asked, still pinning Oliver’s head to the table.

“My point is…” she turned to look at everyone else in the room, now speaking to them. “We all have reason to hate each other, but we need to put the past in the past, step out of the hate tainted shoes of our ancestors and come together to create a thriving community. Not just for ourselves, but for future generations as well. Otherwise we will constantly be looking over our shoulders waiting for the next war to break out…the next crime to be committed, and I don’t know about all of you, but that doesn’t seem like much of a life to me.” she paused and looked at the four men still frozen in place with their eyes on her. “So, boys, what’s it going to be, murder and war… or peace and hope for a better future?” she asked and the men let go of one other and brushed themselves off. “Alright then,” she looked at the DJ standing at a table in the corner of the silent courtyard and made eye contact with him. “laissez le bon temps rouler!” she waved her finger in the air in a wrap it up manner and the DJ turned the music back on kicking the party back up.

Klaus gave her a proud smirk when they caught each other’s eyes as she turned and headed back up the stairs where Nate still stood. “You are aware that you just did a New Orleans style mike drop right?”

“I’m not sure I’m aware of anything that just came out of my mouth.” She answered as she turned her back to the crowd, leaning on the wooden railing then stared off into the distance. “I hate being the center of attention.”

“Then what possessed you to stick yourself in the limelight?” Nate asked curiously.

She shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know, I just…I saw Elijah slam that werewolf’s head into a table and Jackson threaten to kill Diego and something in me just…snapped.” She explained then met his green eyes.

“Well, this is your home now and you’re not just a human, you used to be a vampire and you’re carrying a baby that is three out of the four factions. You have good reason to want them to all get along.” Nate pointed out.

“Yes, but that doesn’t give me the right to jump onto a soapbox and lecture them like I’m some kind of high and mighty, all knowing-”

“Queen?” she heard Klaus ask and looked to her left to see him walking over, “May I steal a minute, mate?” he asked Nate who nodded and walked off.

“I’m not a queen.” She told him with a head shake.

“That speech you just gave suggests otherwise.” He countered. “You may not see it, but everyone else does. You were born for this role. All you have to do is open your mouth and people respond.”

“Born for it or not I wasn’t born into it.” she argued as she turned around and looked down at the crowd. “This has only been my home for a little under eight months. Those people have lived here their whole lives.” Genevieve, standing at a table with the harvest girls, minus Davina, looked up at them and Katie frowned. “Queen or not we shouldn’t be talking right now. So,” she gave Genevieve a challenging look as she turned from the crowd to face Klaus and placed her hand on his shoulder. She started seductively talking to and touching him, “I’m going to flirt with you like the desperate, has been, walking incubator she thinks I am and you’re going to look at me like I’m pathetic, reject me then walk away.”

His face took on a look of disdain as he removed her hands from where they were slipping under his suit jacket then towered over her as he grabbed her face in his large hand and looked her in the eyes. “I love you.” from far away, especially from the angle Genevieve was viewing the exchange from, it looked like Klaus had told her he loathed her.

Katie’s face twisted with a pained look and she surprised even herself with the tear that slipped down her cheek as he let go of her face, turned his back on her then walked away. She kept her eyes on him as he made his way to Genevieve then asked her to dance to the slow song that was playing. While they were dancing Genevieve glanced up at Katie and gave her a snooty, ‘I win’ smile then slipped her eyes back to Klaus. “Wanna take a walk, get some fresh air?” Nate asked as he walked over and stood beside her.

“Fresh air would be nice.” She answered as she took her eyes off of Klaus and Genevieve to look at Nate as she wiped the tear from her cheek.

They were on their way to one of the main exits when she heard Elijah call her name and stopped as he walked over to her. “May I have a moment?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” She answered, wondering if she’d said something in her speech that pissed him off, then looked at Nate who had also stopped, “I’ll meet you outside.” he went ahead and she turned her attention back to Elijah who placed his hand on her shoulder and walked her over to the desserts table. “What’s up?”

“First,” he grabbed a slice of cheesecake and a metal fork and held them out to her so she took them with a roll of her eyes, “I haven’t seen you eat much tonight. Also, I have been talking to the faction leaders and we all agree that you should join us in signing the treaty tonight. They believe you should take a seat at the table.

“What?” she asked around a bite of the plain cheesecake.

“With Rebekah no longer in the picture, the people see you as the Mikaelson matriarch.” He explained. “Not to mention you put things in perspective and gave them the final push that led to them all agreeing to sign the treaty tonight.”

“You call me a matriarch, Klaus calls me a queen, both are flattering, but insanely inaccurate.” She said with an animated shake of her head not understanding why Klaus and Elijah kept putting her on a pedestal.

“Katie, you are standing in a unique place of power as an important member of this community with the fresh, un-bias, view of an outsider. We are simply encouraging you to embrace it. However, it goes without saying that you do not have to do anything you do not want to do.” He told her diplomatically.

“Can I think about it?” she asked as she dropped her eyes to her cheesecake.

“Of course.” He answered, happy that she was even thinking about it. “We’re meeting here in the courtyard at 11 if you decide to sign it.” she just gave him a nod and headed outside where she found Nate sitting on a bench.

“So, what did Elijah want?” he asked as she sat down next to him.

“He asked me to sign the treaty.” She answered with a sigh as she slipped her hands over the itching skin of her stomach.

“Are you going to?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t know.” She answered with a shrug. “On one hand I’m flattered and I want to step up to the plate, but on the other I just want to be a good mother.”

“You know, this is the twenty-first century, you can choose to be both.” He told her, making her look at him across her shoulder. “I think I speak for the masses when I say I think you should go for it. Take your place at the table and use your voice to make a difference.”

Katie took in a deep breath as she lifted her shoulders then let them fall as she let it out.

TVDTVDTVD

Elijah gave Katie a surprised look when he saw her walk into the courtyard and join him, Francesca, Genevieve, Diego, Hayley and Jackson where they all stood around a table that held the new treaty, a bowl and seven silver daggers. Diego was the first to pick up a dagger and cut his palm. Everyone else followed suit then held their hands over the bowl, creating the ‘ink’ they would sign the treaty with. Elijah dipped a quill pen in the blood then handed it to Diego who signed then handed it to Francesca who passed it off to Genevieve then on until Hayley handed Katie the pen. So Katie dipped it then signed her name and handed it to Elijah, the last to sign.

After a few words from Elijah the meeting dispersed. Katie and Genevieve headed for the stairs at the same time and bumped shoulders. Katie bit her tongue, gave Genevieve the most polite smile she could muster for such a horrid person, then stepped aside and waved for her to go first. “You know,” Genevieve started as they neared the top of the stairs, “you can flash your cleavage and flirt all you want, but you’ll never win him back.”

“Yet, I believe you’re time with him is limited and you know it.” Katie replied with a condescendingly chipper tone and her head held high as they came to a stop at the top of the stairs. “After the birth of our child he’ll be so wrapped up in his daughter and me, aka his family, that your little love spell on him will break and he’ll forget all about his witchy little play thing. So enjoy your borrowed time in our bed while it lasts.” Katie told her with a smile as she walked past her. “Goodnight.”

She knew she shouldn’t say things like that since it was technically true, but she was ninety percent sure that Genevieve saw her as a giant joke no matter what came out of Katie’s mouth.

#the originals #the originals fanfiction #tvd #the vampire diaries fanfiction #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #elijah mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson x oc #klaud mikaelson x oc #klaus mikaelson oneshot #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaelson imagine

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January 2022’s Win a Commission was the Six Swans! If you’d like to read my version, see the art and my explanations about it, please

A Lnu hunter was once hunting in a great forest, and he chased his prey so eagerly that none of fellows could follow him. As evening approached he stopped and looked around, and saw that he was lost. The trees were of a different kind, their layout dense and dark, and odd animals darted in the shadows. He looked for a way out of the woods, but he could not find one. Then he saw an old woman with a bobbing head who approached him. She was a witch, visibly from lands very far away indeed.

"My dear woman," he said to the witch, "can you show me the way through these unfamiliar woods?"

"Oh, yes," she answered, "I can indeed. However, there is one condition, and if you do not fulfill it, you will never get out of these woods, and will die here."

"What sort of condition is it?" asked the hunter.

"I have a daughter," said the old woman, "who is as beautiful as anyone you could find in all the world, and who desires to become your wife. If you will make her so, I will show you the way out of the woods."

The hunter was so frightened that he consented, and the old woman led him to her cottage, where her daughter was sitting by the fire. She received the hunter as if she had been expecting him. He saw that she was very beautiful, but in spite of this he did not like her, and he could not look at her without secretly shuddering.

After he had lifted the girl in hand, the old woman showed him the way, and the hunter arrived again at his village, where the wedding was celebrated.

The hunter had been married before, and by his first wife he had seven children, six boys and one girl. He loved them more than anything else in the world.

Fearing that the stepmother might not treat them well, even do them harm, he took them to a secluded birchbark wigwam which stood in the middle of the forest. It was so well hidden, and the way was so difficult to find, that he himself would not have found it, if a wise woman had not given him a pair of magicked moccasins. He had but to put them on, and presently he would naturally find his way to the children.

However, the wife had long known about his children. She gave a large amount of a strong drink to his friends and family, and they revealed the secret to her. They also told her about the moccasins and their purpose.

Then she made some little shirts of white silk, in the style of her people. Having learned the art of witchcraft from her mother, she sewed a magic charm into each one of them. Then one day when the hunter had gone out to fish, she took the little shirts and went into the woods. The moccasins pointed her way.

The children, seeing that someone was approaching from afar, thought that their dear father was coming to them. Full of joy, they ran to meet him. Then she threw one of the shirts over each of them, and when the shirts touched their bodies they were transformed into swans, and they flew away over the woods, the very littlest two brothers perched upon their elder brother’s backs.

The witchwife went home very pleased, believing that she had gotten rid of her stepchildren. However, the girl, who we shall call Pamela, her true name long forgotten, had not run out with her brothers, slightly sick at the time, and the witchwife knew nothing about her.

The next day the hunter went to visit his children, but he found no one there but the girl.

"Where are your brothers?" asked the hunter.

"Oh, dear father," she answered, "they have gone away and left me alone."

Then she told him that from the door she had seen how her brothers had flown away over the woods as swans. She showed him the feathers that they had dropped into the yard, and which she had gathered up.

The king mourned, but he did not think that the witchwife had done this wicked deed. Fearing that the girl would be stolen away from him as well, he wanted to take her away with him, but she was afraid of her stepmother, for in her heart she knew the mysterious figure to be so, and begged the hunter to let her stay one more night in the woods. Reluctantly, he agreed.

The poor girl thought, "I can no longer stay here. I will go and look for my brothers."

And when night came Pamela ran away and went straight into the woods. She walked the whole night long without stopping, and the next day as well, until she was too tired to walk any further.

Then she saw an old trapper's hut and went inside. She found a room with six little beds, but she did not dare to get into one of them. Instead she crawled under one of them and lay down on the hard ground where she intended to spend the night.

The sun was about to go down when she heard a rushing sound and saw six swans fly in through the window. Landing on the floor, they blew on one another, and blew all their feathers off. Then their swan-skins came off just like shirts. The girl looked at them and recognized her brothers. She was happy and crawled out from beneath the bed. The brothers were no less happy to see their little sister, but their happiness did not last long.

"You cannot stay here," they said to her. "This is a robbers' den. If they come home and find you, they will murder you."

"Can't you protect me?" asked the little sister.

"No," they answered. "We can take off our swan-skins for only a quarter hour each evening. Only during that time do we have our human forms. After that we are again transformed into swans, though we keep our minds and the speed at which we would naturally age if human."

Crying, the little sister said, "Can you not be redeemed?"

"Alas, no," they answered. "We asked the medicine person to interpret this curse, and the conditions are too difficult. You would not be allowed to speak or to laugh for six years, and in that time you would have to sew together six shirts from hawthorn bark, or similarly prickling material, for us. And if a single word were to come from your mouth, all your work would be need to be redone. All of our shirts must be finished at the moment you speak, or else odd effects may occur."

After the brothers had said this, the quarter hour was over, and they flew out the window again as swans.

Nevertheless, the girl firmly resolved to redeem her brothers, even if it should cost her her life. She left the trapper's hut, went to the middle of the woods, seated herself in a tree, and spent the night there. The next morning she went out and gathered bark. Through much trial and error, for her people primarily wore skin, not plant material, she eventually worked out how to work the fiber. However, not much of the bark could be used, as very little of it was suitable for the task. She could not speak with anyone, and she had no desire to laugh. She sat there, looking only at work.

Presently, her father did find her, and through their writing system, and later during the brother’s fifteen minutes, she explained the situation. They all went back to the village, and proved the witchwife guilty of her crimes. For witch rites of passage, she had needed to terribly betray seven family members, and so she and her mother had devised a scheme in which marriage to an unknown and uncared for people would leave with them without actual guilt, or harm to their own people. She was judged and punished accordingly.

However, that did not solve the actual issue.

For a time, Pamela lived with her father. He provided food and encouraged her rest and breaks for the girl, who often worked herself to the point of exhaustion. However, she eventually managed to learn a good work-life balance. Sadly, soon came a dearth of viable hawthorn ‘donors’, as she did not want to decimate the population.

A scout and trader friend found that on a new nearby English colony, there was plenty of invasive hawthorn plants, and failing that, a plant called ‘stinging nettle’. “It’s quite miserable to touch,” he explained, “But it’s a decent fallback.”

Since Pamela needed to save her strength every day for her task, and her kinsmen could not always take the time of day to row her over to that island, a local woman, skilled at basketry, created a water tight snowshoe, meant to float in water instead of staying on top of snow. Then, using strings of sinew, she would be pulled by her brothers across the water, the second youngest flying beside the brothers while still learning, and the youngest sitting in a pack upon her back.

She stayed mostly out of sight on that island, and took great excitement in the cutting of these invasive hawthorns, who were disrupting her people’s age-old guidance of the ecosystem. Once a week, she would go to gather the materials, and then go back home to process, spin and eventually weave. Within a few short years - for it was a lone venture - she was about to finish the third shirt. By that time her littlest brother was learning to fly, and adored it.

One day, while a storm was clearly brewing on the horizon, she asked her brothers to take her across the water to gather that week’s bark. ‘I am almost done with your shirt!” she wrote ecstatically to her third brother.

They didn’t want to go, but could hardly disregard her enthusiasm. So they set off across the water, only for Pamela to be struck by a branch flung by the wind. She fell unconscious, and being only swans, her brothers could only guide her body to the nearest shore, and squawk for help. A young man and his mother came out, and brought her in from the storm.

The man nursed her back to health, despite the suspicion of his mother. When she awoke, they fell in love, and soon learned each other’s writing systems. She explained the situation, and he agreed to support her in her quest.

The mother stayed suspicious of Pamela, however, refusing to teach her more about spinning or allow her to use more appropriate tools, stalling the project ever further.. And when Pamela gave birth, somehow silently. to their first child while her husband was away on a supply run, the old woman struck.She took it away from Pamela while she was asleep, and smeared her mouth with blood. She hid the child with a friend, and none knew.

Then the mother went before the colony and accused her of being a cannibal. The young man could not believe this, and would not allow anyone to harm her. She, however, sat the whole time sewing on the shirts, and was unable to defend herself. Proper accommodations, be it a slate and chalk, paper and pen or even a stick in the mud to write, were not given.

Pamela was acquitted, but suspicion haunted her every move around the colony.

The next time, when she again gave birth to a beautiful boy, the deceitful mother-in-law did the same thing again, but the young man could not bring himself to believe her accusations.

He said, "She is too good to do anything like that. If she were not speechless, and if she could defend herself, her innocence would come to light."

But when the old woman stole away a newly born child for the third time, and accused Pamela, who was unable to defend herself verbally in court, the young man had no power to save her from an awful fate. She was taken away, and was sentenced to die by fire.

At that point, her sixth shirt was nearly complete, but there were no more easy hawthorns nearby, and any that were left were too tough for regular swans to strip of bark. As such, Pamela had her brothers gather hawthorn strips while human, and bring those collected at night. Her kinsmen would’ve helped, but they had migrated only a week before, not due back until the next spring. Once they had transported what they gathered during the day, they would then strip the local nettle plants, and Pamela processed the fiber until she was nearly violently itchy with the stuff.

When the day came for the sentence to be carried out, it was also the last day of the six years during which she had not been permitted to speak or to laugh, and she had thus delivered her dear brothers from the magic curse. The six shirts were almost all finished, except for the lower halves of the sleeves on the last shirt. When she was led to the stake, she hid the shirts in her dress. Standing there, as the fire attacking the skirt of her prisonwear, she looked around, nearly all hope lost, and six swans came flying through the air. Seeing that their redemption was near, her heart leapt with joy.

The swans rushed towards her, swooping down so that she could throw the shirts over them. As soon as the shirts touched them, they fell and changed laboriously to humans, one helping the other and freeing Pamela from the stake. Soon, her brothers stood in their own bodies, vigorous and handsome. Her youngest brother, whose shirt was unlike the others, found that he regained his arms but kept proportional wings - he was ecstatic, for he loved to fly.

They embraced and kissed one another, Pamela’s husband breaking free of his shocked peer’s arms to go hug her. Her first words in spoken English were ‘I am innocent, and falsely accused."

Then she told them all of the treachery of the old woman who had taken away their three children and hidden them. The former swans added that they had followed the old woman to a neighboring colony the week before and saw the children with their false family. They pointed to a large basket with three little children inside, set beside a large, shady tree. “We arrived nearly too late because we took back the little ones last night.”

The crowd pardoned Pamela, and fell upon the mother-in-law instead. Shocked and avoidant of drama, the little family packed up as quickly as possible, and moved back in with the Mi’kmaq people.

While life had its ups and downs, and it took a while for everyone to get used to each other again, they lived happily for the rest of their days.

The Six Swans Explanation

Alrighty! So this is one of my favorite fairy tales of all time. As mentioned, I’ve messed with it twice before: Once, for a psychology project, where the husband (originally a prince) was a selfish fool and everyone could be diagnosed with one issue or another, and secondly, where I wrote the story backwards, calling it Feathers to Nettles. That one was pretty somber too, with the more traditional version of the brothers only turning human during solstices or equinoxes. It’s currently in review by my college, they might put it in their literary magazine! Let me know if you’d like to see it. But there are, of course, many variations of the tale. Some have ravens instead of swans, and there’s some in which 900 years must pass, like with the Children of Lir story, before they could return to human shape.

In a lot of ways, I changed this story. Originally a European tale about princesses and princes, it is now set in what is now called Novia Scotia, Canada, among the Lnu Indigenous people. Pamela’s character also gets to spend time with her family, instead of basically leaving them forever. Additionally, in the original, Pamela’s husband humiliates her, does not try to communicate via sign language or writing, and is merely obsessed with her beauty, instead of having mutual love like in mine. Suffice to say, I like my version of the husband better.

However, there are some aspects of the story I kept.

Pamela is a complicated character, in that she fits the self-sacrificing sister (always for the brothers of course) archetype, and yet she is also self-destructive. I mean, both of those characteristics usually go hand in hand, but it doesn't make her psyche any less complex. In the original story, she is shown to be constantly downtrodden - but many depressed people aren’t like that! Often, they can have good days or happy moments, it’s just that there is always a blue shadow cast across their mind and heart. And due to her eagerness, and the back-breaking requirements of her eternal task, Pamela has little choice but to work through the issues. She’s incredibly strong, and quite dedicated.

That being said, there is no way she could’ve done quite so well for herself without the support of her family. Pamela is a strong woman, but she was helped and loved along the way by many, as she should be. Everybody needs a little help every once in a while, no matter the circumstances. I was happy to make her not stand alone.

Pamela and her family are Lnu because I wanted to learn more about the people. See, Lnu is their original name, but Mi’kmaq is the most commonly used name, because of a mistranslation. When the Lnu first greeted the French, their version of ‘Hello!’ sounded similar to ‘Mi’kmaq’. The French mistook this for their name, and thus they are now known as the Mi’kmaq. Furthermore, they’ve adopted it into the name of their language, Mi'kmawi'simk, and added grammar to it (Mi’kmaw being the singular for a person from the tribe.). As their original naming customs are little used today, have little information online about the subject, and because I don’t have much cultural experience with it, I decided to give Pamela a European name. She is named after the famous Mi’kmaw lawyer, Pamela Palmater.

I’ve talked about this before, in Oliver’s first personal volume, for a quite similar story, but there is an issue with popular media turning People of Color into animals. On purpose or not, it’s a (no pun intended) dehumanization tactic. Not every example of this trope is inherently bad, but there’s too many bad examples to discount it. The first Disney movie to star a Black character (Tiana)? Spent the majority of the movie in frog form. So did Kenai from Brother Bear, Kuzco from The Emperor’s New Groove, and Joe Gardner from Soul (cat and soul form). Often, these transformations are thematic punishment, and their color, their identity, is stripped away.

And to be honest, I completely dropped the ball in this one. I could argue that the brothers’ and father’s only faults were being too trusting, and that in this case, they genuinely, thematically didn’t ‘deserve’ it. But I hadn’t put that much thought into the issue this time. I could also argue that since Mi’kmaw legend often has a selkie/swan maiden character, this isn’t an issue. But as the transformation of those unhappy characters is bird-to-forcibly-human, it isn’t the same. So ultimately, I think it’s best if I stay away from these tropes from now on - I don’t think I can do them justice with my current skill level and attention to detail.

Onto the art explanation! The title was on I doodled in class one day. I just thought that it was neat that swans necks look like an S, so I included that. Not super fancy, but still good.

The second picture was the one I drew first (after the title) and did the most clothing-research on. The peaked caps were not common among Mi’kmaq women until well after the Europeans came, but it is such a distinctive look! Maybe since Pamela had a foreign stepmother, she adopted the practice early. I don’t think I did the designs all that correctly - the cap is almost completely copied off of one old picture I saw. And it wasn’t until days after I drew the pointy wavy lines on her skirt did I realize that they weren’t supposed to look like that at all. Instead, they were supposed to be a repetitive mountain range pattern, with both pointy mountains and older, flatter, rounder mountains. But it is what it is, in this case. If I ever draw traditionally dressed Mi’kmaq characters again, I’m going to fix that. I just wish that my research skills had led me to find out the proper designs for their clothing before I had drawn them. I don’t know why or how I didn’t find the information until afterwards.

I gave up on the background and avoided drawing the hawthorn tree best I could. I am so tired of drawing trees. They are both complicated and unpatterned, so it’s hard to draw quick or well. However, I’m proud of the swan ‘helping’ his sister. This basket, and the ones afterwards, are also patterned off of Mi’kmaq designs - they have a spiky stripe of fiber around the middle a lot.

For the third picture, I just had fun with it. I wrote most of the story after the drawings, but knew I needed a good substitute for the original story’s ‘brothers carry sister away in a large blanket’, so that Pamela could wander and meet her husband. I didn’t feel like drawing her in a huge basket or in a boat, so I decided she could waterski instead! Lol. I meant to draw her smiling but it didn’t work out that way. Did you see the cygnet in her backpack?

Last picture was both hard and easy to make. I went through several different Animorphs-like designs for the brothers, because I didn’t want them to look bad but there’s no way that a bird to human transformation would look good, you know? In any case, Pam’s prison dress is burned and her brother is standing behind her, helping his next brother stand up. He has his hair long and loose because it was common among all Mi’kmaq people to wear their hair like that. In fact, it wasn’t until relatively recently that Mi’kmaq people started braiding their hair a lot. My only regret was that, again, I didn’t find out about proper decorative designs until after I drew the picture - often clothes were also decorated with animal designs - so every brother got their own random ones.

All that said, I hope you like it.

#win a commission #wac #the six swans #the wild swans #fairy tale

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