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spookynat.bsky.social
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@spookynat.bsky.social
5 followers 10 following 60 posts
archiveofourown.org/users/spookynat
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spookynat.bsky.social
another banger from the WIP. sorry for the narrow formatting - i was experimenting with book layout #WIPSnips
image of a text post with a snippet from a work in progress. the text reads: But from what he learned, there’s one way of getting more power. One way that can heighten his magic indescribably. Joining a coven. Just a single ritual with a coven is infinitely more powerful than anything Salem would be able to do on his own. He would need powerful coven mates, of course, but with the knowledge and power that would come from a completed coven… The idea is attractive. Salem can’t deny that. Even just the thought of gaining enough power to heal his father fills him with the sort of hope he hasn’t felt in months.
May 16, 2025 at 12:41 PM
spookynat.bsky.social
genuinely thought i had nothing for this and i am SO glad to be proven wrong #WIPSnips
post reads: And then he finds his thoughts drifting. A courage potion, that he’d like to try. But first he would have to finish out the commissions that he and his father were hired for. A batch of headache remedy tea for Mrs Downey. A luck potion for Mr Murr. An illness protection potion for Mrs Gould and her young son, who is so susceptible to colds and flus from his school that Salem is fairly certain he has spent more time out of school this year than in it. There’s also that pair of fertility spell jars for the Quinns, who having been trying for a baby for so long that they’ve resorted to magic… Salem sighs. So much to do, and he’s not even sure they have all of the ingredients that they need for the commissions. He’s definitely got most of the common ingredients, like lemon and cloves and honey, but he’s not sure if the ginger in the garden is quite ripe, and he’ll have to make a couple of oils for the fertility room spray… Shit, now that he thinks about it, what phase of the moon charged his moon water?
May 15, 2025 at 8:03 AM
spookynat.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
post reads: No, he won’t do a reading, he decides. If he doesn’t remember, then that must be for a reason. Perhaps the contents of his dream were so horrifying that his deity protected him. Salem stretches, then looks around his room, realising that he’s left it in a disastrous state. There are clothes strewn all over the floor, a collection of cardigans and sweaters draped over the back of his desk chair, and his few pairs of shoes are all shoved together in some vague semblance of tidiness in the bottom of his little closet. He’s also managed to leave stacks of books absolutely everywhere, and there are green blankets falling from the side of his bed onto the floor, just adding to the clutter. The vines that crawl up the corners of his room to wrap around the wooden beams that criss-cross just under his ceiling. There are bookcases on every single wall, all packed with a frankly ridiculous number of books, and any visible wall is painted a dark brown to mimic wood. There are fairy lights draped all around the room, powered with crystals that Salem fills once a month so that they can be motion-activated. His bed nook itself is tucked into one corner of the room, draped with dark green curtains that circumvent the bed to grant him a bit of privacy when he’s sleeping. There are books packed into the shelves he’s installed above the bed, and a giant window is centred right in the middle of the wall above his bed, allowing for a gorgeous view of the forest during the day and the fairy lights that litter the grounds at night.
May 14, 2025 at 9:55 AM
spookynat.bsky.social
first time posting a WIP, kinda nervous lmfao #WIPSnips
post reads: "For now, he gathers the ingredients for the luck potion. He'll need a lemon for it, so he quickly shuffles outside of the greenhouse, back into the dark of the night, to wander his way over to their little orchard. The lights of the house illuminate the path for him, and he can see his father wandering around the kitchen, a little aimlessly now that, as Salem assumes, dinner is in the oven. Or on the stove. Something like that. Salem turns away, not wanting his father to see him out in the orchard and remember his presence before dinner is ready. He strides over to the lemon tree and places his hand on the bark of the trunk, grinning up at the bright green leaves and plump yellow lemons. "My, don't you look lovely," he tells the lemon tree, which shivers in approval. This particular tree has always been his favourite out of the bunch, though he makes sure not to show too much favouritism. After all, he and his mother planted this tree. "How are you feeling?" The tree brushes a handful of leaves against Salem's face, and a branch reaches out. He holds out a hand, accepting a lemon when the tree drops it into his hands."
May 14, 2025 at 9:51 AM