When the Battle's Lost & Won

mother is the name for god on the lips and hearts of all children indie lily j. evans 18+

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;;No for real. Anyone wanna get something started here? :D

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;;Anyway. Starter call! Hit the heart, get a starter, feel free to leave a comment or send an IM/ask with ideas you’d like to see me write--even if it’s with a muse you don’t write for. (Tryna flesh out that wishlist, you dig?)

Also. Feel free to suggest other FC’s you like for Lils. Current: Jane Levy.

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reasons i am convinced, even after spending nearly a week with him, that @hoofpriint is actually james potter:

#MY GIRLFRIEND MADE AN EVANS #-gestures- go follow this quality writer

tell me that’s not the most james potter reaction to anything lily does.

#MY GIRLFRIEND MADE A POTION #-gestures- go follow this quality witch #MY GIRLFRIEND PUNCHED A DEATH EATER #-gestures- go follow this quality freedom fighter #MY GIRLFRIEND MADE A BABY #-gestures- go follow this quality mother

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muggle au

rebirth/lost memory au

lyle evans au

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Not only was she a singularly gifted witch,                                    she was also an uncommonly kind woman.

              She had a way of seeing the beauty in others                          even, and perhaps most especially,             when that person couldn't see it in themselves.

                                             independent lily j. evans                             18+, selective, semi-active, written by ren

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;;Officially revamped, people! I have my old stuff for Rowena saved as different pages that aren’t linked, but this is a Lily Evans blog now y’all!

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;;blog revamp in progress!

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;;On the one hand, I should do things here.

On the other hand...no?

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Send me a ◑ for my muse to give yours some bad advice

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pantslessoptimism replied to your photo: mother is the name for god                      ...

I KNEW THAT WAS YOU

;;WELL I’M NOT EXACTLY SUBTLE ABOUT IT. XD

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@pantslessoptimism suffered a witch to live. 

The running didn’t come easy. It didn’t come naturally. It came with pain and loneliness and tears, it came with screams and agony and sleepless nights. It came with worry, anxiety, paranoia--but the worst of it, the worst of it, was when it came with the in-between towns. Not places she could or would settle in, but the places she had to pass through to find the next safe haven. That was where she found the most of her enemies. The demons trying to smoke her out, the witches searching high and low for her--the hunters on other cases, all too happy to string up a witch.

Whichever sort was following her, they were very nearly subtle about it. She almost didn’t sense them. It was only her paranoia and fear keeping her alive now, slowing her steps, turning her face over her shoulder on the stairway.

"I’ll warn you now to stop following me,” she said quietly, looking the woman dead in the eye. “I will nae hesitate to defend myself.”

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queen-yggdrasil:

Yggdrasil didn’t know what was going on through the mind of the other and she honestly didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to the red eyed girl was staying warm and surviving. It would be best for her to continue the journey when the storm had passed. The howling of mighty winds continued and that was concerning. She continued to look at the fire as her body heat reached a comfortable level. Another sneeze never happened and Yggdrasil was happy about that.

‘I won’t be getting sick this time.’ She said to herself before listening to the other. The individual seemed to know a lot about the inn keeper and something felt off about her. There were few places the inn keep could have gone. The little girl didn’t think he would be foolish enough to try and brave the storm.

While Jessamine didn’t have a will of her own, like Melvina did, she still knew what was expected of her. The primary focus was keeping an eye on the other living being in the house. Blue glass eyes looked to the fire, which reflected in them. Yggdrasil was thinking about the book she was on her way to pick up. It was a summoning book filled with many incantations and instructions. She was looking for one summoning in particular and Yggdrasil was informed that it was in there. 

‘Belphegor.’ She thought to herself and smirked. 

‘I want his power.’ She thought once more. 

The woman informed Yggdrasil that the innkeeper wouldn’t want compensation for her stay and this set off a red flag immediately. Now the little witch didn’t feel so safe anymore and sighed. Something told her there was danger and it was this woman behind her. Whatever she was doing, it mustn’t be any good. The red eyed girl didn’t do anything to reveal her suspicions, but she did decide to strike up conversation. 

“A kind inn keep” Yggdrasil responded and followed up, “So did the storm cause you stop as well and where will you go from here, while it rages on?” 

She could have waited an eternity for answers and as the fire started to dwindle, the girl tossed in two more logs, and whispered a few words. The fire grew strong and she kept it under control. The heat from before, could not compete to the new heat.

‘That’s better’ She said to herself as shadows danced around her and her doll. 

Rowena’s voice faltered when the demon-child asked her new questions. Was it more suspicious not to answer her, to ignore her? Or ought she to risk a new lie? Hazel eyes minded her fingers on the twine instead, tying the knot securely--a magical knot, one meant to bind. The sage was for cleansing. The knot was important. It would tie the spirit to her whim--when she used it.

Perhaps it was best to give a half-truth instead. Easier to keep track of.

“I came afore the storm,” the witch replied quietly, swallowing around her own fear. Her fingers slowed. The knot was tied. Nervously she turned the herbal bundle in her lap, palm smoothing it over--following it to the heel of her hand--smoothed it back, until it sat only at the tips of her fingers. “I have a baby boy,” she added, quiet and sad now. She had a baby boy. He wasn’t hers anymore--but the demon wouldn’t know that. “He needs me.”

And he did. Did still, even if he wasn’t hers anymore. It was...safer without her. They wouldn’t come for the child if the mother was gone.

“I cannae stay,” she finished quietly. But the winds blew fiercely against the inn--she could hear them now that she was less focused on completing her task--and to risk the blizzard might mean her death. So then. There was only one choice for it. Rowena lifted her chin, the flint in her soul striking a fiery determination. She would live. For the wean she had left and hoped to come back for some day. For the villagers she had yet to spite through her life. For the magic she still wanted to learn, for the pain in her life she still wanted to erase through newer, better memories, for the taking from life all the things it had withheld for her, she would live.

And so the demon would have to die.

Rowena slipped the bundle of sage from her lap into an apron pocket, bending now to pull up new twine--and new herbs. No more sage. Rosemary, juniper, osha--strong against evil. And bound by twine to her will.

“And what of you, my darling? Whence are you from, whence do you go? ‘Tis a hard, dreich night for one so small to be out alone.”

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;;Reading the really intolerable section today, asks appreciated as brain breaks!

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Invade my inbox. Flirt with my muse.

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;;Notice I'm posting now and will expand on later: pursuant to other, outside conversations the people here are unaware of, my Rowena is (obviously) running on a canon-alternate timeline. While I am willing to work Crowley's, Grand Coven members, and OC's whose timeline is intimately tied to Rowena's, for the most part I will be diverging from the canon timeline and providing my own emphasis on time (which includes, for example, Rowena having left Fergus well before the age of 8--I've decided as a baby or toddler, but could be tempted to move the timeline around to accommodate as old as 6).

[truelobotomite]

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@xrecusox  suffered a witch to live.

"You’re not very smart for a hunter, are ye?”

Rowena popped one hip, hand resting upon it, as she stared down at the mousy little dear caught in her trap--and such a simple one at that, hardly more than a bit of an immobilising spell the witch had been tweaking the past week to work without a proper hex bag. The sun shone high and bright; there was nary a cloud in the sky; and beneath all that brilliant, endless blue, caught in an ugly grey concrete factory, were only the two of them. The hunter and Rowena. Rowena and the hunter. The cat, the mouse, and the trap its caught in.

“No, nor very diligent. This is why you sort stick to your business at night, my darling. Everyone sees better when the sun’s out to play.”