Prompt: Opalite
@kingdonmicrofic | 500 words | Rated G | 27/31 | Witchy AU |
Ding ding.
Mel looks up from An Advanced Guide to Medicinal Witchcraft to see a man enter the shop, looking very uncertain.
“Can I help you?” she asks, closing the book.
“Yeah,” he says sheepishly, walking over to her desk. “I’m looking for a…a potion?”
When he arrives Mel finds herself taken aback by his bright blue eyes. They’re beautiful—captivating, almost—and some part of Mel stands to attention. There’s something here, something about blue eyes, she just can’t remember it. Was it a prophecy she read?
“What kind of potion?”
The man winces. “I don’t even know, I’ve, uh, I’ve never done this before.”
Mel brightens. “A newbie, how lovely! Well, I’m Mel, and I can definitely help you.”
“I’m Frank.”
“Well, Frank, what do you need a potion for?”
Frank goes into great detail about a woman named Abby, how she screams at him one day and then loves him the next, how they’ve broken up and gotten back together so many times he’s lost count, how every time he says it’ll be the last time but then he finds himself right back where he started.
“And I’m done this time, I swear I’m done,” he finishes, “but it would be nice to be certain.”
“Don’t worry, Frank,” Mel assures him, walking to the back of the shop to light a fire under the cauldron, “I know exactly what you need.”
They chat idly as she gathers ingredients for strength, courage, emotional healing, even protection. He’s a doctor apparently, which is a beautiful coincidence, given that Mel specializes in healing magic. He’s lovely to talk to, and beautiful to look at, and by the time the potion is ready some half an hour later, Mel feels remarkably drawn to him, more so than any customer she’s ever had.
When the potion is ready, she pours it into two vials, wraps it up in a bag, and hands it to him.
“Here you go,” she smiles. “Drink one sip of this every day for a month, and then the next time she comes back around, you shouldn’t have any desire to get back together.”
“Thank you, Mel,” Frank says as she rings him up. “This has been really lovely.”
“I’m so glad.” The light catches on something behind him, and Mel jolts. “Oh, here.” She walks across the shop and picks up a crystal. “This is opalite, it’s for mental clarity and emotional healing,” she explains, handing it to him. “On the house.”
Frank takes the crystal from her hand. Their fingers touch, and Mel feels a spark of electricity zip through her body.
By the look on Frank’s face, he felt it too.
“I have a funny feeling I won’t need this for very long,” he smiles.
“No,” Mel says, her heart thumping, the words of a soothsayer finally come back to her. “No, I don’t think you will.”
fluff
inspired by the prompt: "listening to the other's heartbeat"
thanks for sending it anon, sorry this one took a while to update!
I usually try to keep things relatively blank/fill in your own info for a lot of x reader but at some point that becomes really boring or difficult to write. in this case, the dog didn't have a name initially but after editing this, she does now because this part is pretty dog heavy and there are only so many times of saying "the dog" before it sounds less like an included character and more like some rando dog that you barely know and don't care about. so anyways, her name is Hazel like witch hazel! (both for the name + Tomura finds her soothing)
[previous] [series masterlist]
Spring has fully taken off, which means you've been here for weeks now.
The transition to moving in with Tomura went smoother than expected. Not only do you have your own bedroom with a door and everything, you now have fancier furniture than you know what to do with.
Sure, you had a bed in your cottage but it was hard and rustically made, to put it nicely. It’s all you ever knew before this though, so you were used to it. This one is wool that you sink softly into. The sheets are soft and smooth against your skin. Every night, you’ve had dreams about sleeping in a cloud – which makes sense, you basically are.
Even Tomura’s chairs are nicer, plushy where yours weren't. It's taken you some time to get used to the luxuries, but Hazel has adapted fast – not wasting any time before cozying into her own small bed placed in your room.
Of course, there is still so much you miss about your cottage.
Your belongings. Your garden. The warmth of your small space. Particularly on windy nights like tonight when the old house holds a draft that can't be easily quelled. The window sashes shake against the force of the salty air coming off the ocean.
You’re happy to have somewhere safe to be though, in spite of it all.
Living with another person has been less jarring than you expected as well. Neither of you are particularly intrusive – he mostly keeps to himself, leaving for solid days without warning, holing up in the study, and spending hours in his room doing...something. If you’re being honest, you’ve barely seen him since the two of you arrived here.
Tonight you hear him. The sound of him scraping at something in his room turns to footsteps creaking on the old stairs. You peek your head out to make sure he’s okay.
Tomura stands at the window, staring out. Absentmindedly, he pets the dog’s head when she rubs against his leg.
Things have felt different since you’ve arrived. Maybe it was always like this. You did only know him for one night before moving in and of that night, you spent most of it asleep. Still, there’s a certain tension in the air that you don’t recall from before. His gaze never quite meets your eyes but you catch him stealing glances when he doesn’t think you’re looking. It’s probably normal, all part of adjusting to having another person in your space.
“Night,” he mumbles before continuing up the stairs to his room. You go back to yours, staring out the window for a while. There's something else out there after sundown. It doesn't permeate into his yard, but you can feel it all around. There's a distinctly different, dark energy on everything.
It almost feels like it’s getting stronger.
By the time you wake up, the wind has died into a gentle breeze – it’s time to get to work, you have a long day ahead of you.
Even with the on and off rains, you’ve been busy rebuilding something close to a temporary replacement for your garden. While you don’t intend to stay here forever, you have no immediate plans for where you’ll go yet. Thus, it made sense to have a small patch here – at least for this year. Tomura was happy to let you use whatever space you’d like to and, while he never actually said it, his eyes lit up at the prospect of fresh fruits and vegetables. You wonder the last time he made himself an actual meal. From what you’ve seen, there’s been nothing but quick to heat grains in the house until you arrived. Even now, there’s not much more you can make with what limited supplies you have.
There’s a windowed area built onto the side of the house that makes the perfect greenhouse. It’s a bit overgrown and, like everything else here, in some state of disrepair, but you don’t mind. It’s still spring so there’s a bit of time left to get most seeds going. Beets, peas, and sunflower shoots are all spilling over the edges of their pots. Some have been transplanted already, you’re slowly moving what you can into the plots you dug up. Hazel came out and helped, but it’s unclear how much she understands of the situation and you think she may have just wanted an excuse to play in the dirt.
What you’ve been able to grow will have to do for now, considering that they’re the only seeds you had stuck drying between the pages of your grimoire. Soon you’ll also need to go into town for more seeds, you’re not sure when that will be safe though. Tomura knows you need the seeds, in addition to other necessities, and said he has an idea. That was the second day you were here. Neither of you have brought it up since then.
In the meantime, you’ll have to go back into the forest to forage. It’s the least you can do to repay him for allowing you to stay.
You’re not really sure what Tomura is doing this morning, but you’d like to take advantage of the nicer weather. The breeze is warmer than the past few days and the clouds look unassuming. While your magic has never been perfectly in tune with the weather, you have no concerns. It’s as good of a day as any for a walk.
After feeding yourself and Hazel then tending to the new plants, you’re ready to go. In the few weeks you’ve spent in this house, you haven't seen a basket anywhere so you bring an extra piece of cloth to wrap what you gather for the return trip.
When you walked here before, you were exhausted. Sure, you remember some of your surroundings, but you didn’t get a close look at them.
Tomura’s house is the only one remaining in what used to be a small town by the looks of it. Outlines of the houses still remain. Neither you nor your dog move closer to investigate. You can see well enough from the road. Their blackened foundations are etched into the landscape by a powerful dark magic. It feels similar to what you saw Tomura use the night your cottage burned down, but more concentrated. Part of you wants to ask him about it, but given that he’s the only person you’ve seen out here, you could probably guess. It’s hard to wrap your head around it, this was done by the same person who so easily took you in when you were in need. He’s not someone you’d describe as warm or friendly, but the juxtaposition of his doings still feels incomprehensible. You can see why they call him the symbol of fear.
The darkness appears to stretch over the entire peninsula. By the time you’ve reached the end, you’ve almost gotten used to the vacant lots. The rolling grass hills feel out of nowhere.
Up you go, following a faint path to the top of the ridgeline. Rather than going back out towards the town, you continue straight into the forest. The trees become less windswept, growing closer together. Soon you’re back in your element.
Recent rains, followed by the warmer weather brought up a huge crop of mushrooms. The faint orange clusters stand out against the detritus. You cut off what you can carry, stuffing them in your makeshift bag. A few bunches of fiddlehead ferns catch your eyes as well. You take some of the tender shoots that have yet to unfurl. The cloth wrapped around your shoulder fills easily as you collect. With any luck, this should last you a few days.
Following Hazel further into the forest, you come across a stream. The two of you stop for water before continuing further up the hill. Light shines brighter through the trees and the sound of water grows louder. In a few more turns, the stream widens beneath a waterfall. It’s not massive by any means, but still just as pretty. Water trickles down boulders between vivid green moss. Hazel jumps in immediately. You watch as she plays in the water, taking off your boots to do the same.
There’s something about beautiful spaces that makes you forget time. Hours slip by faster and before you know it the sun is settling behind the trees much sooner than you expected. Warm light illuminates the stream as you follow it back down the hill towards the peninsula. It looks like a golden snake slithering its way down to the ocean. You turn as soon as the trees begin to thin, in search of the faint trail that led you here.
The sunset fades to pink, then darkens quickly.
Too quickly.
A sense of foreboding overwhelms you as you rush down the grass covered hill towards the house. Once more, you curse yourself for not knowing more protective spells. Summoning some small amount of energy from the surrounding plants, you cast a thin shield over yourself and Hazel. It’s not much but it will be better than nothing. You hope the feeling is all in your head.
By the time you reach the road, darkness surrounds you. It’s as if the air you breathe is closing in around you. Everything goes cold, you’re shivering as you rush as fast as you can. But fast isn’t fast enough. It feels like a dream when you’re trying to run and being held back. You feel the spell you cast being pulled off of you. Then, warm hands on your shoulders.
Startled, you turn to find yourself face to face with Tomura.
“Take Hazel and run,” he growls.
“What about you?” he doesn’t respond, shoving past you.
Through the haze, you manage to follow your dog towards the house. Your legs move easier now, but you still feel yourself in the grasp of an entity you can’t quite place. Focusing on throwing one foot in front of the other, you make it to the end of the peninsula.
As soon as you stumble through the gate, the world expands. Goosebumps disappear from your skin as the temperature rises back to normal. Hazel stands nearby, panting while watching something outside the fence. She seems to have fared better than you in all of this, whatever it is didn’t seem to hold onto her the same as it did to you.
Just as you start to get worried, Tomura stumbles through the gate, slamming it shut behind him. You jump up to help him, noticing a slew of new cuts over his face and hands. The two of you make it a few steps with you supporting his weight before falling onto the grass.
His arms hang limply over you, holding you to his chest. His breathing is slow, shallow. You listen for his heartbeat. It beats wildly, calming over time as the two of you catch your breath. He begins to stir, allowing you to roll onto your back.
“What was that?” you gasp.
“Nothing you need to deal with,” he grumbles, “why did you leave here without me?”
Hazel has settled in on his other side, head resting on his shoulder.
“To find dinner,” you say, pulling the nearly forgotten bundle of food from your shoulder.
“Next time come find me, I’ll go with you. No one should go into that forest alone at night, especially not you.”
“Why me?” you ask, “I notice whatever it is didn’t go for Hazel in the same way.”
“You have magic.” He sighs, sleepily. “And as of now, you’re also tied to me. So he wants you more than before.”
“So, having a connection to you makes him more interested in me?”
“Forget I said anything,” Tomura mumbles.
There are so many questions you have that would take days to answer, but you know you won’t get anything out of him tonight. Instead, you lay here staring up at the stars. Eventually, he breaks the silence.
“Do you think all of this would have happened anyways, without the potion?”
“Maybe,” you say. “I mean, it’s quite the coincidence that you just so happened to be passing by my cottage at the times you were. If it wasn’t the potion, something brought us together.”
“Like fate?” he asks.
“If you believe in that sort of thing.” All of your conversations with Tomura up to this point have led you to believe he's too practical to buy into such things.
“The fact that we can have our destinies tied together by a potion implies that fate is real. And if fate is real, wasn’t I always destined to end up on your doorstep somehow?” He’s moved closer, pressing up onto his elbow to face you. Of course he would have some sensible reasoning but it's a surprise to you how much he seems to have thought into your intertwined lives. Initially, he shrugged it off like he didn't care. Maybe he feels more than he lets on. Suddenly, you're aware of the closeness between the two of you.
“Hmm,” you say slowly, giving yourself time to think. You wish you had more experience with conversations like this. “I never thought of it that way.”
“No? How do you see it then?” he presses. Not in a demanding way, more like he's insatiably curious. It's an interesting feeling, it's not that you've never spoken with people, you have, but no one has ever wanted your opinion on something. Not like this.
“I don’t know, the future feels like some nebulous cloud of possibility. This just solidified a direction.”
“So you do believe in fate?” His eyes scream 'I'm right' but his smile remains playful. Something in you melts against your will, making it hard to find the right words.
“In some way,” you contemplate, “I think there are still some choices within it. But I guess so. This was always an outcome.”
“Does that matter to you?” he asks, leaning in closer. You can feel him a short breath away.
“Does fate matter?” you ask.
“No, does it matter if it was a potion or not? You're the first person I've ever been close with and I'm assuming it's the same for you. Does it bother you that this is all from something you created?” a flash of genuine concern crosses his face before you open your mouth to answer.
“No.” You state it definitively, bringing the curiosity back into his features. “No, it doesn't bother me. If we're going through our lives like this regardless, I'd rather not let anything cheapen it. This is how it is and we'll never know otherwise. Besides, we create everything in our lives. Some of us just have other means of making things happen.”
His eyes narrow at you as he smirks, “is that not what got you into this mess? If you weren't making love potions for half the town–” he drops it, realizing the last half of his sentence is less fun than he intended. “Uhm, speaking of the town,” he continues, more seriously. “I am still working on that.”
“How's that going? Unless you can transform us, I don't see how we won't stand out immediately in that crowd.”
“Don't worry,” he assures you, “I have it all figured out.”
[series masterlist] [bnha masterlist]
i picked the prompt for the next part (i saw it and really wanted to write it for this!), but still accepting prompts from the lists on the masterlist or any i've shared to continue the story after that
In celebration of 10 years of Clexa, a lot of us writers are sharing the first kisses from our stories! This has been a blast to be a part of, and so much fun to read all the first kisses.
Below the line is the first kiss in Witch’s Chimney. It’s a wonderful witches AU that @mozz14 and I collaborated on.
- - - - - -
Clarke’s eyebrows cinched together, and now she was looking directly at Lexa, a question clearly on her mind.
“You thought I’d hurt you? Do you still think that?” Clarke asked. Lexa didn’t look angry anymore, she looked young and vulnerable. Scared.
Lexa knelt in front of Clarke, eye level with her. “Maybe not physically, but what if you decided to leave when you found out? What if you were scared?” Lexa didn’t realize she was going to be so vulnerable. With her ankle still far from mended, she was already at Clarke’s mercy physically. “You leaving and taking Madi would hurt.”
“So, it would hurt you if I took Madi away?”
She leaned in, resting her forehead against Clarke’s. They had never been this close. Falling back onto actions for past truths, she cradled Clarke’s hands in hers.
“Yes, but not just Madi. It would hurt me even more if you left.”
Her eyes were closed as she finally voiced her truth, afraid to see how Clarke would react. Neither moved at Lexa’s revelation, until Lexa brushed her nose against Clarke’s, and tilted her head. Her lips grazed Clarke’s giving her a chance to pull away if she didn’t want her to continue. Lexa froze when Clarke closed the distance between them.
Clarke’s lips were soft against hers, and for a second, no one moved. Clarke started to pull back at her kiss not being reciprocated, but Lexa’s brain finally caught up with what was happening, and she pushed forward, molding their lips together. The kiss was gentle, and yet intoxicating. Lexa had never felt anything so wonderful, and the tentative exploration made her heart pound.
Clarke leaned back to tilt her head the other direction and fell right back onto Lexa’s plump lips. Not wanting to be separated again, Lexa placed her hand on Clarke’s neck, pulling her in. She deepened the kiss as if she was afraid this would only happen once.
Lexa felt Clarke’s hand cup her cheek as she pulled back again. This time resting her forehead back against Lexa’s, giving them each a second to recover.
“I wouldn’t do that, Lexa. I’d never hurt you.”
This time it was Lexa who moved forward, connecting the two. She wanted Clarke to know she felt the same, but with everything that happened in her past life, she couldn’t say the words out loud With her history, there was just no way of guaranteeing them to be true.
Summary: Katniss Everdeen had made it this far through life without any serious romantic entanglements, there had been surprisingly few temptations. She just needed to keep the course. Peeta Mellark could not fall in love with her - it should be an easy enough task: she’s known to be prickly, sullen, and hostile, her charm had been compared to that of a dead slug. If he thought she was bad luck that would only sour him further once he really got to know her… right?
Plenty of the magicless frequented The Hob. Situated in their realm they had no idea magic was anything more than the fodder of fairy tales or that Greasy Sae, the lively proprietress, was a practitioner of such. She’d taken great pride in ensuring the brick and mortar diner tucked in the corner of Panem city was nothing more than an unassuming eatery: nothing cloak and dagger or mystic about it. But the Everdeen sisters were not of the clueless majority, for they too were witches, as was their father before them, and so Sunday lunch at The Hob had been a weekly tradition for as long as either could remember. It was the comfort of fraternity and routine as much as the stew that had them returning time and again.
But recently things had changed.
At first glance this man was nothing extraordinary: human male, medium height, stocky build, ashy blond hair that fell in waves over his forehead - Katniss had barely noticed him enter the diner, and he may have continued to go unnoticed…
Okay!! So here’s my reference for the Witchy AU Ink!
Design Discussion
So the hardest part for me? Ink’s feetsies. I had no idea what kind of footwear I wanted this man to have, especially since he’s depicted as shoeless. He would have DESPISED the witchy boots I originally had in mind. But at the same time, I didn’t want him to run around shoeless due to the world I was putting him in. He needed something to protect his toes from the elements. And then I decided that I would give him a pair of socks! And they’re never the same pair!! He always changes them any time he goes outside. It doesn’t offer much protection, and he always gets frustrated when he walks through muddy areas, but it feels like it suits Ink better overall, to me.
I’ll also probably give him a proper redesign for the shading at some point, because I’m not entirely happy with how this came out
Lore/Story Idea
Okay so, the story actually takes place with Ink as one of our protagonists. (Cross will be the other one, don’t worry.) And it takes place during the late 1500s and the early 1600s. Ink was born into a family of nobility, and as such, had grown into a very spoiled and artistic life style. Though he always felt unhappy with how plain the world acted and how dull life had come to be in the kingdom. He meets Cross at a young age and the two become friends due to Ink’s rank in the world. There is even a point in time where the two’s parents discuss the idea of an arranged marriage between them. Ink doesn’t know about this until he comes of age, and is very against this idea. He doesn’t want to marry his best friend! However he is forced into this idea of what he must do and must be in order to be worthy of even approaching the crowned prince.
And then along comes Gin.
Gin is a witch slightly older than Ink, and has been practicing his magic since his birth. He and Ink meet when Ink is sent out on a fox hunt alongside some other nobles. Ink strays off from the others and ends up getting lost, but encounters Gin. The two become fast friends, and as Gin shows Ink the wonders of witch magic, Ink finds he isn’t afraid at all. In fact, this magic is so colorful and lively-so much better than the kingdom. He wants to learn more. Gin promises a place for Ink within their community to teach him, so long as he doesn’t rat them out to the kingdom of witch hunters. Ink agrees, and heads back to his home.
Time passes. Ink hasn’t learned too much, but he’s determined and refuses to give up. Unfortunately, his family has begun questioning his recent escapades. Especially when Ink begins to miss more and more meetings. His father sends one of Cross’ mentors, a witch hunter, to stalk Ink and ensure he isn’t being possessed by demons or hypnotized. This leads to them finding Ink and Gin together. Gin is killed in the resulting aftermath, and Ink flees from the hunter.
After managing to lose the hunter by running to the Cursed Woods, Ink finds himself lost once more, unable to control himself as he bursts into sobs. He’s lost everything now, and can never return home again.
Thankfully, a plucky, bright witch named Dream appears, offering his hand and his help to Ink. Ink takes it and leads him to the community of witches that have been hiding away from the kingdom. More details to be told later!!!
But a few years pass, and Ink can’t even summon a familiar. He feels pathetic, and fears that if he can’t cast a spell properly, he will be shunned from the community and left to face the consequences of his kingdom. He keeps trying over and over, but nothing seems to work. Until one day, when he arrives back in his little cottage, he finds a small, black kitten. It’s terrified, and has odd markings all over it, but Ink assumes it to be his familiar that just—took a long time to be summoned! He offers it a fish and does his best to befriend it, despite how hostile the kitten seems. It’s only a matter of time before Ink gets the chance to properly bond and use his familiar to help with his magic!!.. right?
If there are any questions, go ahead and ask! This is all I have time to write right now, but I’ll definitely post more later if y’all are interested!!
I have a fanfiction idea in the works with Nygmobblepot. Natural necromancer Oswald. Accomplished necromancer malewife Ed. Learning necromancer Martin. Supportive Rogues Gallery. They gather in the renamed Nygma-Cobblepot Cemetery and this happens. Shenanigans ensue when the GCPD burst through the cemetery gates.
So I had a wangxian fic idea where it's a witchy au or something where lan wangji gets cursed or spelled or potioned to do whatever his impulses are. But then I realized this would very quickly become marathon sex on the floor until the spell wears off. And very dubious consent if not worse, which of course lwj would hate himself for.
So alternate idea, wei wuxian is the one hit with the spell/curse/potion, and since he already acts on so many of his impulses, it takes a while for even him to realize something isn't right. But once he catches on, others start to also. And they all kind of realize that there's actually quite a few impulses he keeps to himself and they mostly involve lan zhan.
For instance, he calls lan zhan beautiful almost daily. But with the spell/curse/potion, he starts waxing poetry about his beauty to. His. Face! And not only that but he constantly is wanting to hold his hand, caress his face, play with his hair, play with his hair ribbon, etc.
So basically it's just him being his ultimate sweet gushy fluffy self but directly to lan zhan for the whole fic until they get together.
Meanwhile lan zhan is internally hyperventilating the entire time and is very concerned about wwx and thinks he's probably been love potioned or something.
