Witch, 118

“Have you ever talked to a spirit before?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“You’re not sure?”

“Well. I’m not sure if the forest counts as a spirit.”

“Oh. That’s a good question.”

“It laughed at me the one time I asked it.”

“Seems like something it would do, yes,” Ron said, directing that comment to the forest, which was indeed laughing again. “I don’t think it’s a spirit. It feels too big.”

Witch, 93

“They’ll be here any minute.”

“Yeah, I can hear them coming.”

“Yes, they’re quite loud, actually.”

“In all senses of the word, yes. Speaking of which, can we trust the centaurs not to clomp through the garden or should I go tell them not to step on Howie’s shoots?”

“I think we can trust Estelle to know better than to disrespect our garden.”

“I think so too,” Ron admitted, stroking the table to calm it down. Everyone was going to be getting here for the meeting soon. Their family was already here, standing by the house and waiting. Ron could hear the faeries approaching from the east and west, at the same speed and distance. They must be able to sense each other, and of course neither of them wanted to arrive first and be made to wait.

Witch, 80

“Are you okay?”

“I am well.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am.”

“It would be okay if you weren’t.”

“I am.”

“It’s just me, Estelle,” Ron said, walking beside her. He was talking quietly, so Miguel and James wouldn’t overhear. They were walking through the woods to the cave where they’d fought the demon. Josephine and Spike and Daffodil were with them, and a few of the other centaurs were flanking them at a distance. Ron didn’t think they were in any danger, but they were under guard anyway.

Witch, 79

“That didn’t take long.”

“Did you think it would?”

“I guess. I figured there’d be a ceremony or something.”

“There was.”

“Yeah. I guess it was just short.”

“Centaurs aren’t that interested in long ceremonies.”

“Just long banquets.”

Faery, 10

Juniper flew. He raced through the forest, breath short, wings aching. But he couldn’t slow down. Not now. They’d catch him. At the very least, he had to get the demon out of the forest before it killed him.

The centaurs shouldn’t have been able to move as fast as they were. The demon had to be forcing them to run faster. Were they even still alive? Juniper didn’t know. It might not even matter. If they caught him, alive or dead, the end result would be the same.

An arrow whizzed by him, nicking his wing, throwing Juniper off course. He turned and righted himself to face the oncoming centaurs. “Don’t come any closer,” he warned them.

“Oh, Freezie,” said the one in front. It was Alphonse. It was not Alphonse. “They’re not home anymore.”

Witch, 77

Nobody Is All Powerful, and Those Who Think They Are Tend to Underestimate the Little Guy Ao3 Link — “Are you okay?” “I’m fine. Are you?” “Yeah. I think so.” “Okay. Grandma and Spike?” “They’re standing.” “Okay.” James took a breath, blinking his eyes open as Ron helped him stand. The screaming had receded a […]

Witch, 76

“You don’t have to be scared.”

“I think I do.”

“I expected you to say you weren’t.”

“But I am.”

“I can tell. You don’t have to be.”

“But I am.”

“Why?”

“Someone tried to kill you last time we were here.”

James smiled, taking Ron’s hand as they watched the centaurs prepare the table. Josephine was already sitting at the head. “He didn’t try to kill me. He only thought about threatening me briefly and then he changed his mind.”

Faery, 8

Juniper sighed. “Fuck off.”

Come on, Juniper.

“No. I’m not in the mood.”

Please?

“Why would I jerk off?” Juniper asks. “I’m in fucking jail.”

Exactly! And there’s no fucking in fucking jail! You must be getting horny! There’s not even like a guy to rape you if you drop the soap!

“Rape jokes are not funny, you asshole.”

Faery, 5

Juniper shifted. His ass was sore, but the good kind of sore that came from all the fucking that he and Daffodil had been doing.

Speaking of, do you want to make the joke about him being a pain in the ass, or should I?

“Oh, can it,” Juniper says, not opening his eyes. He’s smiling to himself like a weirdo while he pretends to nap in a tree. “We’ve got a good thing going and you and your murderous readers are not going to ruin it for me.”

Nah, if the pattern of history holds, you’ll probably ruin it for yourself without my help.