Wisteria Witchery

𝕸𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖆 𝖕𝖚𝖑𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖚𝖉𝖔 ⸻꧁ cσηƒєѕѕ, 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜 ꓦ𐌆𐌋𐌄 𐌔Ⳙ𐌂𐌂Ⳙ𐌁Ⳙ𐌔 ✧･:*˚:✧｡⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ 𝟏𝟐+ 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬ⵑ

[wisteriawitchery]

𝘏𝘪, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘢 — 𝟤𝟧, 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺-𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳 (𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩) 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝟣𝟤+ 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵-𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭-𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥’𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘸.

𝘐’𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭-𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘤. 𝘐 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰-𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴 — 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴.

𝘔𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝟣𝟪+ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦.ᐟ 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴, 𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴, 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘸𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦.

Writing sample

𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 - 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘪𝘴

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘍𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 - 𝘛𝘉𝘊

𝄢

[wisteriawitchery]

Chapter 7. The doe in the den

What do you know, I updated my fic teheeee

After having to listen to the bombings, which makes me more nauseous than anything, we collectively march into the tunnels of the mountain to get to the heart of it. I stay close to Katniss, who feels stable for the moment being.  “They won’t surrender because of me.” She says to me as we walk up the dark tunnel. “We just bombed their homes and forced them to comply rather than losing their lives. No one will respect someone who does that.” I sigh and bite the inside of my cheek because she is right. But there is no space for us to fight this decision now. “Leavin’ them no choice is our only option here. Once they’re escorted out, then…they’ll be fairly treated like everyone else,” I say, trying to sound convincing.   “Safe? Gale sure didn't seem to be considering their safety when he suggested we smoke them out of their homes. He didn’t even seem to consider them as humans. He sees them as the monsters that bombed Twelve…I don’t think he cares if they’re safe or not.” She scoffs, looking around the tunnel's dark walls.  “Can’t blame the boy for bein’ angry…anger drives a soldier forward, makes him a more efficient warrior. Coin sees that in Gale, it’s why she uses his skills to hone results she likes. That drives us forward.”  “It’s wrong.” She says, looking up at me, “This rebellion will mean nothing if we just see each other as enemies, killers of each other’s families and districts. How will there be peace if we hate one another?” “Yeah…I don’t know that part, sweetheart.” I sigh in response, just as we emerge into a larger space where the trains will arrive at any moment.

[wisteriawitchery]

The summer solstice in Scandinavia this year was marvellous, and I thought you should know! 🌞

[wisteriawitchery]

one year post war, Haymitch and Effie on an early morning stroll through the meadow.

Effie: Oh, darling! Look at that sunrise. Haymitch: Yeah...another sunrise. Effie: *looks at him* Effie: Happy Birthday, Haymitch.

[wisteriawitchery]

Aragorn sacrificed the ranger for the realm.

Arwen sacrificed her life for Aragorn.

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Effie: Perhaps if you were less of a scoundrel and a-

Haymitch: Don't you fuckin' say drunk.

Effie: ...

Effie: I was going for tactical nuke.

Haymitch: Sure you were.

Effie: ...Will you be sober?

Haymitch: I swear to God!

[wisteriawitchery]

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐋𝐘 𝖺𝙧𝗲 𝘣𝖺𝖼𝙠 𝘸𝗂t𝘩 𝖺 𝗦ꓴ𝝦𝙍𝗘𝝡𝗘 𝗇𝗲𝘸 𝗂𝙨𝙨𝗎𝗲! ꔋ𝘩𝗂𝙨 𝘸𝗲𝗲𝙠, 𝘞𝗂t𝖼𝘩 𝘞𝗲𝗲𝙠𝗹𝘆 𝗴𝗲t𝙨 𝖺 𝙧𝖺𝙧𝗲, 𝗲𝗑𝖼𝗹𝗎𝙨𝗂𝘃𝗲, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝘃𝗲𝙧𝘆 𝖽𝙧𝗲𝖺𝗺𝘆 t𝙧𝗲𝖺t 𝗂𝗇 t𝘩𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝙧𝗺 𝗼𝗳 𝖺 𝗴𝗹𝗂𝗺𝗽𝙨𝗲 𝗂𝗇t𝗼 t𝘩𝗲 𝗺𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗹𝗂𝗳𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗦𝗎𝗽𝙧𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝖼𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗇 𝗹𝗲𝖺𝖽𝗲𝙧 𝗙𝗂𝗼𝗇𝖺 𝗚𝗼𝗼𝖽𝗲!

Tʜᴇ ʙᴀᴅᴅᴇsᴛ ʙɪᴛᴄʜ ɪɴ ᴛᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ʟᴇᴢᴢɪᴇ ᴡᴇɴᴄʜ's ᴡᴇᴛ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ! Hᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏsᴛ sᴇɴsᴀᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴏᴜʀ ᴀɢᴇ.

[wisteriawitchery]

𝘏𝘪, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘢 — 𝟤𝟧, 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺-𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳 (𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩) 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝟣𝟤+ 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵-𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭-𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥’𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘸.

𝘐’𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭-𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘤. 𝘐 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰-𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴 — 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴.

𝘔𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝟣𝟪+ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦.ᐟ 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴, 𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴, 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘸𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦.

Writing sample

𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 - 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘪𝘴

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘍𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 - 𝘛𝘉𝘊

𝄢

[arthdoesart]

cheers 🍷🍾

[wisteriawitchery]

The Noble Wife of Black

One shot.

[[TW: child loss]]

Bellatrix had never been able to conceive a child of her own. Never felt the joy of a first kick or the instant love upon seeing a child open their eyes for the first time. A nephew was one thing, but not the real thing.

She had thought that a baby would bring some joy into a marriage that was built upon convenience and arrangement rather than love. Her House required heirs; it always had. She was the eldest of the sisters and the cousins at large. Her children, especially her sons, would be the patriarchs of the House once she was gone, and they would stand to inherit the lot of her father's hard work. But no children came. Year after year, disappointment after disappointment.

Rodolphus had tired of it. He had a brother with sons of his own, and the House of Lestrange did not stand to lose nearly as much as the Blacks did if no heirs came to pass. Narcissa had, of course, produced a son. The pride of Lucius and his father, and the gem in the eyes of his mother. Even Andromeda, the traitor ilk that had married the Mudblod Tonks, had produced a disgusting halfbreed daughter. Both of them had done what was expected in a manner of speaking, but Bella had, as her father reminded her whilst he was still alive, failed.

She had even turned to other men. Rodolphus refused to persist in their attempts, and so she thought hopefully another vessel would suffice. She would never tell to whom she had sought out and given her gifts to, the shame and betrayal would have cut too deep. She had done it nonetheless, and prayed that if the seed took root, the child's hair and eyes would be those of her own.

But none came. No pregnancy stuck or lasted more than a week or so. Again and again, she was tortured and driven half mad by loss and grief. The shame ate her alive, and for a long time, she had accepted that her life was doomed to be fruitless and lack honor and meaning.

Until he came.

Tom Riddle had approached her for the first time in her fifth year. Already then, his ideas and nature were intriguing and aligned with those of the ancient Houses. Strange, for a boy who was orphaned and of no royal blood, she had thought. They had less than a year to know one another then, because he had graduated that summer. Not until several years later had their paths crossed again, when he had gathered the ancient Houses to rouse their support. Rodolphus had known of his ancestry before that, but Bellatrix was enlightened to the return of Slytherin's heir for the first time that night.

What he offered in terms of riches and power mattered little to her. Her house was the most powerful, the oldest, and most respected. She did not need galleons or power, for she had it all already. It was the notion of a purpose that made her pledge her devotion of service and assistance to him, Tom Riddle, who was no longer a boy. He had secluded her, chosen her as his eire. He singled her out as the most powerful, rich, and respected member of the great Houses, and he was masterfully strategic in doing so.

He promised her a purpose that stretched beyond that of producing heirs. A means of making the agonizing pain of suffering alone end. She would join him in purifying the world, and give the children to come a world in which her and his legacy would never die. What was birthing children, compared to cleansing the world of those who would seek to harm her and her faith? What greater honor was there than to birth a new regime, ideology and rightful domination to the next generation?

In his eyes, voice, and power, she found the purpose she longed for. He would give her the world as her canvas. Would let her terror and trauma guide her freely, as she purged those who had made her weak, those who had betrayed her and oppressed her, and used their blood to paint the world as she saw fit. Why should they have the gifts and joys that she was denied? She was the ultimate warrior, the most powerful weapon, and the deadliest face.

"And when you bear my heir, and you will bear him, your fathers and their fathers will pale in your shadow."

That was what he had said, and he had sealed it with dark magic that grew and expanded in her mind every waking moment. Who other than him could promise her this? Who else to lead them than him? He who would give her everything, who let the inner rage and grief express itself through her carnage of those who opposed him. He was the prophet, she his apprentice. He was the end of the world, she was his sword. He was the Dark Lord, she the most loyal servant.

[wisteriawitchery]

Katniss: I never liked Twelve during the winter. It's like it drains what little color there is around here...

Haymitch: *Looks at Effie fixing Peeta's tie*

Haymitch: "Not entirely..."

[wisteriawitchery]

Katniss: Effie is your lifeline, like Peeta is mine?

Haymitch: She’s a bit more than that, sweetheart.

Katniss: More?

Haymitch: She’s my reason, Katniss.

[youknowithappened]

Katniss: *catching Effie and Haymitch making out on the couch* What are you doing? Haymitch: Nothing! Katniss: Whatever it was it looked like Effie was winning.

[delicatefalice]

haymitch abnerathy and effie trinket going into the hunger games by fate and nothing else life works in mysterious ways and sun rises again because of them

[wisteriawitchery]

The parents of the revolution

[surfthestardust]

do you ever think about how haymitch sent katniss gifts with every bit of sponsor money he could scrape up and never sent peeta anything. and katniss assumes it’s because she can understand what he’s saying to her. and peeta thinks it’s because he has no chance of winning anyway. and nobody ever considers that maybe haymitch just couldn’t bear to watch his best friend’s daughter suffer without at least trying to help her. maybe he couldn’t watch his sweetheart die again

[wisteriawitchery]

Chapter 6: Duchess

Soooo, chapter 6 is finally published! Took me way too long, but uni has been killing me this week. It's one for the hornballs, so hopen you enjoy heh

“Haymitch…” she whispers, and the corner of her lip twitches when she says it. I wonder how long it has been since she said my name…since she was allowed to think of me without repercussions. I shake my head, clenching my jaw to keep myself in control of what comes out of my mouth. “Katniss, the children…where are they?” She asks.  “Here…they’re all here,” I say, and I avoid telling her how Katniss is not doing her absolute best at the moment. “You saved them?” she asks. I nod, caressing her eyebrow with my thumb. She smiles, even though her lips are dry and her eyes tired, she smiles. “You did what every father would have done…What I told you to do,” she whispers, and I feel a breath leave my lungs as she does so. I know she is trying to tell me she forgives me, but I don’t want to hear it.  “Are you in pain?” I ask, before I do anything else. She shrugs, her eyes glossing over slightly.  “I will mend. I can mend now,” she says, “I’m not interested in what has happened…why we are here, what is about to happen. I can’t mind it, Haymitch…I–I only want you to stay.” “It’s alright,” I say, leaning my forehead against hers, “I’m wherever you want me, Duchess...”

[wisteriawitchery]

I’m publishing hayffie smut tn, thought you should know.