mexican tale

Arab Little Red Riding Hood with a red hijab

A Japanese Snow White with her coveted pale skin and shiny black hair

Mexican Cinderella with colorful Mexican glass blown slippers

Greek Beauty and the Beast where Beast is a minotaur

Culture-bent fairy tales that keep key canonical characteristics

EDIT: if you decide to draw or write about any of these, please pm the post with what you’ve made added. I really want to see what y'all make, but I won’t be able to find anything on my own with all these notes!

Hey guys, I just released a new ebook on Kindle/ Amazon. It’s titled The Prince and the Magician.

It’s an original, LGBTQ fairy tale:

“ ‘Love is simply politics.’

A fact his father takes to heart… and expects Prince Amadeus to do as well. Yet when Amadeus meets his betrothed, Princess Isela, he cannot help but wonder if that is all that love is about.

As the days go by and the wedding grows closer, Amadeus feels that perhaps his father is right. Just when he is ready to give up, he meets someone who changes everything he knows about love: Cal, the Magician.

Now, Prince Amadeus and Cal must fight so that they can be together. Will they win against those who will stop at nothing to make sure the marriage goes through?”

A few things I think people might like:
-Princess Isela is a lesbian and her story also plays a part.
-Cal is a from New Spain, aka one of the first mestizo Mexicans.
-Part of Amadeus’ struggle is dealing with his Catholic background and his gay identity during the Renaissance.

I’m a Mexican author trying to contribute to a nonexistent genre (LGBTQ fantasy). Support would be greatly appreciated not only for me, but to get more stories like this out there.

It’s available as an ebook on Kindle and I’ll have it up for paperback soon as well.

I wanna share this with you guys :’)

I’m really grateful with my family, they supported me, and full me with love.

This are my birthday gifts (*o*)
My 18th birthday was on 5th of May (if you were wondering of that)


And of course a new advertisement (in spanish of course xD):

Estos productos son originales y puedes conseguirlos en el catálogo de Price Shoes en México (^-^*)

anonymous asked:

The malefic stuff. I've had some exposure to curanderismo but we don't talk to that side of the family anymore and the internet isn't helping and the malefic stuff has interested me since I was a child.

 Brujeria and Witchcraft in Mexico

Alrighty! I only know a bit though, my closest regional knowledge is of southern US, and then a spray of Mexican folk beliefs on witches.
Of course when studying malefic witchcraft of any culture we have to go more on the lore based on defeated/warding them, rare semi-credible confessions of that genre, personal experiences, and look at the basics of the folk-magical culture of that area. It’s rare to find any sort of instructional resources for what we consider malefic witchcraft from after the middle ages, in some places more than in others.
In New Mexico, where a lot of the witch-lore comes from the Spanish immigrants (so we see strong European roots) witches are said to be able to take the form of an owl, though they can take other forms such as cats and pigs (nagualism). They are said to be noted flying across the sky as balls of flame. They are said to have the power to curse and to heal. There’s a lot more on New Mexican witch beliefs in this article. In other parts of south America there are many other diverse forms of witch-lore, but few of my sources are related to brujeria in that area.
Here you can read a couple Mexican folk tales about witches (brujas, lechuzas, and diableros).
We see some features of witchcraft being worked around wells, just as in Europe, including in Witch Huasteca where the witch sprinkles alcohol into the mouth of the well, smokes the place with copal, where she begins to pray and dance, lighting a fire which was jumped over, and then smearing herself on the knees with wet ash to transform her shape.
In this shape she flew about sucking the blood out of newborns. She had to hurry for if she was surprised by sunlight she could never return to her natural form. The husband found her out and eventually burned the hut down where all her limbs were while she was out flying, so she could not recover her human form, and faded away.
In these last two we see something very common in European witch-lore: the various sets of conditions set upon a witch in order to fly from her body and return safely to it. Namely in some form or other they include returning by sunrise and the body/form that is left behind remaining undisturbed. The method used by the witch to fly in this uses a magical ointment (“wet ash” from a special jar) rubbed on the body, something also seen in witches’ flying ointments all over the world.
Also similarly to in Europe they have helping and protective spirits that work for them, referred to by Christian folk as devils.
In Mexico witches are said to be able to turn into owls, coyotes, crows, and turkeys. Once upon a time this included jaguars
It’s important to note though that this sort of witch-lore above is a combination of that held by the indigenous peoples of Mexico, the European settlers who landed there before these stories were written down as we have them, and that of the slaves they brought with them. What I’ve written about here is mostly from the settlers, I would say, with details mixed between all three. The main themes as I’ve pointed out fall in line with the European forms of malefic witchcraft. With them you see the Devil as the witch’s figure, with the slaves you might see the Devil or perhaps Elegua, with the indigenous (historically) you might have found Tezcatlipoca, K’awil, jaguars, or something I have never read about. Now of course even relatively indigenous cultures like that of the Tzeltal people in Chiapas, are mixed with Catholic synchronicity so you’re going to be looking for the Devil with themes and symbols relating to pre-Christian magical practices, but they won’t likely call them that.
If you want to read more about witchcraft and sorcery in Mayan society here’s an article.
If you want to read about nahuālli or Aztec ‘witches’ and shape shifters (from which most of the Mexican witch-lore on shape-shifting comes from), you can look at this, or read the Wikipedia article which seems pretty well compiled.
I hope that from all these sources and the sources they will hopefully lead you to, you can pick out fragments of praxis enough to actually get going yourself, or find a teacher. In malefic witchcraft, where there are no manuals and little written outside of folk tales, trials, and some lucky exceptions, this is really the process one has to go through.

*Just needs to be said: of course the stuff I have listed here is very different from curanderos or Mexican folk-healing/magic. It’s the whole difference between witches and witch-doctors. This article talks more about both Mexican brujeria and curanderos. Though I haven’t read it yet, I found this book on the subject, though I believe it leans more toward curanderos, I’m sure you would find useful information in it.

And AGAIN this isn’t my country of expertise at all, so if anyone has more information or is like hey that thing you wrote, not true here’s something that proves that I want you to do that thing. Hope this helped a bit love, try not to let the tree-huggers get you down! There’s so much actual stuff out there, just swat them sillies away!

A small depiction of the Mexican folk tale “the Mermaid of water eye” (La sirena del ojo de agua). The tale describes how each december 24th a beautiful mermaid emerges from the lake and asks a lucky gentleman to carry her into the nearest church. The mermaid promises great riches and good fortune to whomever accepts, but there’s a catch. Whoever agrees to carry her cannot look upon her face or the valley shall be cursed with endless rain forever.

To Houston Sir

I slide my hand through the harsh gravel and feel for his hand. The night is cold and the air is frigid. I take a deep breath and thank God we’re still laying together under the moon only an hour away from Texas. I hear a woman singing to her small elderly mother in a beautiful Guatemalan dialect and I feel safer that she is around. 

Last night we all most lost her, she would have been the fourth one. Diego and I are really lucky to be here tonight, sleeping side by side in the last of this Mexican earth. He’s all I have left and I would be nothing without him.

“He’s your brother?” I look up and see the kid that runs alongside with the coyote motion to me.

“Yes.” I sit up and slide closer to Diego, I begin to feel anxious.

“How old is he?” He cuts an apple with his sharp little knife and scoops the slice up to his mouth. 

“Ten.” I swallow and give Diego a little squeeze. 

“I was only fifteen when I first made it to the other side.” He slightly smiles and offers me a piece.

“Did you do it alone?”

“Yes, my parents both died.”

“During the cross?”

“Yes, we tried through the fucking river.” He coughs and spits out a chunk of apple. I look around at all the tired faces, hungry, and cold just like me.

“Are the people nice out there?”

“No, but the others that have crossed are. Well sometimes. Just go as far as you can away from them. Be with the gringos, don’t be with your own kind.” He slides down onto the gravel and tips his hat over his face. “I wouldn’t trust anyone for a long time.”

I pull Diego closer to me, his small body is warmer than mine. I hold him for a moment and slowly close my eyes.

A gun shot jolts us all awake and I hear the boy scream, “GET UP AND RUN!” I grab my bag and Diego and bolt. I see a white truck with a gun to the side shooting at anything in sight. 

“Run Diego, just run, don’t stop!" 

"I can’t!” I see the fear in his face and tears running down his eyes, but there is not time to explain, we just have to run.

“Come this way!” The boy grabs my hand and leads me down the side, and we run.

Through a small clearing and behind a great big rock we duck and wait before making our next move. 

“What the fuck was that?” I look around the rock and watch the big white truck chase a small family down. A tall white man ties a couple down while the elderly woman cries by her daughter’s side who’s been shot. 

“Are we going to die?” Diego tugs on my shirt, tears and dirt covering his face. 

“No kid, we’re just gunna sit here and hide.” We watch as they round up the wounded, the scared and the one who all most got away. They search for hours looking for more, but only 5 got away including the coyote. 

“I think we’re going to be okay.” The kid whispers in my ear, his eyes steady and his face narrowed. I have no choice but to trust him.

“What do we do now?” I clean Diego’s face with the last wet napkin I had. He still is shaking and crying. 

“We wait.” Juan whispers. “You look like a strong kid. I promise when we get to the states I will buy you a big ice cream, just for being so brave. 

Hours pass, the truck finally leaves. I hear the moans of the captured and I feel their pain. We cry for them and wish them well. We know where they are going. They have lost everything, because unlike us, they didn’t know where to run. 

"I’m hungry!” Diego whispers to me, he’s not use to any strangers. 

“Here kid,” he hands him another apple, “don’t eat that too fast!”

“What do we do now?” I ask, the sun is starting to get too hot, and we have barely found any shade behind this rock. 

“We have to move very slow, hiding until we know we’re safe. You have to trust me, and I promise I’ll get you to the other side." 

"We have no choice, we have to trust you." 

"I know it’s hard. I’ve been watching you. I won’t let anything happen." 

"Well I don’t even know your name, in the last 3 days you have never said a word to me until last night." 

"My name is Juan, and I’m not allowed to talk to you. The coyote forbids it. Last night he was drunk, so I knew it was okay. " 

"Why do you work for him?”

“Because it’s all I know how to do.” He looks at his water container and realizes its not much. “I seen you with this kid, and I just had to help you. This journey is not a pretty one, most of the time no one makes it out alive." 

"Juan thank you.” I smile and take out my last big bottle of water and hand it to him. He smiles and pours it into his bottle then looks around the rock. His words haunt me inside.

“Lets move!” We walk fast but not far, making sure the coast is clear. Listening for others, or the truck.  Juan carries Diego over his shoulder and leads the way. He cares for Diego like his own kin, and I can see he cares. 

“Do you think the others are with the coyote?” I ask. 

“There’s no way to know for sure.” He clears his throat and tells me they’d be dead just the same. The coyote is a thief, he takes all the he can. He probably called the truck in to take the people for all they got. I always knew to hide my money, but this just made me go into a little shock.  

We keep walking through the bush, down the valley until we find one of the others asleep behind a great tall bush. Juan walks over to him and taps him on the shoulder, but he doesn’t move. He’s died. 

“Lets go, this doesn’t look good for him.” He points to Diego who is miserable and hot and scared. I hold his hand tight and we walk a little faster knowing, that we can’t last long out here, today was the last day and our food and water is low.

Hours pass, and the sun is starting to go down. Finally we are only minutes away from Texas and I can see the lights of the near by town. Juan is getting restless. He keeps trying to figure out the best way. He says we wait till really late and just make a run for it. 

“For now lets just get a little sleep, I’ll keep watch and you guys rest.” I hold Diego close in my arms and I close my eyes and quickly fall to sleep. I can feel Juan watching, making sure we’re safe. 

The wind howls a little and it begins to rain. I doze in and out of sleep. 

“Juan are you fucking kidding me!” I wake and find the coyote with a gun in his hand pointing it towards Juan who is protecting us with his body,

“What’s happening Mara?” Diego screams, clutching me tightly.

“Diego close your eyes.” I hold him close and begin to pray. 

“Leave them alone, they have nothing!" 

"Bullshit Juan, no one ever comes with nothing!” The coyote looks at me, his gold teeth sparkle in the dark.

“What does he want Juan?” I cry out. 

“She knows your name!” He walks closer to me. “Tell me, did Juan tell you that he planned to kill and rape you? Take your money and leave you here to die!?" 

"No, Juan was helping us!" 

"You idiots with your fucking shit dreams.” He laughs and motions for my bag.

“Leave them alone I said!" 

"Give me the bag you bitch!” He points the gun at me, then at him, Diego’s head.

“Take it!” I throw it in his direction and pick up Diego and run. I run harder and faster even though I hear the gun go off. I don’t care anymore, the money was hidden in my pants, everything we needed was in that bag, except the money. 

Finally I reach the border and I don’t look back, I put Diego back down and we run. Tears run down my face, I feel the American soil under my feet. I still don’t feel free. We run and run and finally we stop, out of breath, words, and tears. 

There is no sounds, no light, no direction. All there is, is us. I find a ditch and we duck. Sleeping is not an option for me but all I can give to Diego. 

Hours pass and it’s time to move, I begin to hear sounds. I look at Diego and kiss him on the forehead, he’s tired and all worn down.

“Don’t stop Diego, we’re all most there." 

"Where’s mom?”

“Really close, I know she is really close.”

“What about Juan?”

“He’s gone, it’s just us.” I wipe my tears and take his hand and we begin to walk. I find a road and remember what Juan had said, once we get to the road look as local as you can. 

“Are we going the right way?”

“Yes.” We keep walking until we get to a small Mexican store. Inside I smell the spices, and cheese and all the things that remind me of home. 

“How can I help you?” The small old man asks, I look around and the store is empty.

“I need a bathroom, and a phone.”

“Where are you from?”

“Here of course.” I smile and fix my hair, I know I look tired like I just came from the desert.

“You don’t have to tell me. I all ready know.” He walks us to the back of the shop and shows us the phone. “I did it once too, a very long time ago.” He hands Diego bread and a soda and walks back to the front.

I dial the number I memorized. Since last month.

“Hello?” a voice on the other side answers.



“Mama we’re here.”

“OH thank God,where are you?”

“Texas but I don’t really know where.”

“Take the bus to Huston and I’ll be there, waiting, till I see you!”

“Diego and I miss you and… and…”

“I know. I’m so proud of you my darling, I love you so much.” I hang up the phone and pull Diego into the bathroom with me, and we both begin to cry and laugh and cry. I wash our hands, face, ass, and brush our hair with my fingers and some water. 

“I can’t wait to finally get there.” I sigh.

“Me too.”

“Diego I love you so much!”

“I love you too.”

Suddenly I hear the coyote, he’s in the store.

“I’m looking for a young girl and boy!” My heart skips a beat and I grab Diego very tight.

“Yes I saw them” The man says, I begin to look for another way out. Then suddenly I hear him sigh, “They were taken about two hours ago.” The coyote curses and slams the door as he leaves.

A knock at the door and I’m motionless, “yes?” I whisper.

“He’s looking for you still? Did you pay him?” The shop man asks.

“Yes.” I reply.

“Did he want more?”

“Yes.” I cry out.

“Where are you headed my dear?”

“To Houston sir.”

“Let me lock up and I’ll take you there myself. No good comes from an ugly man like that." 

We wait in the bathroom till the coast is clear. I grab Diego and we follow him to his car. Suddenly I hear a whistle I turn and see Juan, he’s looking around and motions for us to come. 

"No it’s a trap.” The shop keeper says calmly.

“He saved us.”

“Yeah but there had to be a reason.” He gets in his car and Diego follows him in. 

“Please let me say goodbye." 

I run to Juan who’s been beaten, his eyes are swollen and his lip busted. 

"I’m sorry he took your stuff… I didn’t think he would." 

"Are you going to be okay?" 

"Yes, I’m not going back, I’m running.” He looks around and smiles, I can tell he longs to be free.

“I’m headed to see my mama now." 

"Good luck okay?" 

"Same to you Juan, and thank you." 

"Maybe I’ll see you one day.” The car beeps and its time for me to go. I give Juan a long hug, a little bit of money, and kiss on his beaten head. 

“I’ll be in Huston.” I run back to the car, and we pull away. The old man from the shop drives off slowly, I watch as Juan disappears away. 

When we get to the bus station the old man gives us each a bag of food. “I hope you guys make it safe. Good luck to you." 

He gets back into his car and drives off. We sit and wait. We hide until the bus comes, it looks so new and clean. We hand our tickets to the driver and find our seats in the back. In 5 hours we’ll be with our mama, after 7 years alone. 

"This bus is really nice.” Diego says to me, suddenly he falls asleep. He rests his head on my lap and gently I run my fingers through his hair and sing him to sleep. 

“All most as good as the Guatemalan’s” A voice calls out to me. I peak over to the aisle and it’s Juan sitting two rows ahead of me. 


“You didn’t expect me to let you guys go alone right?" 

"No I guess that wouldn’t be the Juan I came to know." 

"Juan?” Diego peeks out with a great big smile.

“I said I’d buy you ice cream!” I lean back and close my eyes, knowing Juan would be there watching.  

Local Legends: The Devil in the Dance Hall

A popular tale amongst Mexican-Americans of the southwestern United States, “The Devil in the Dance Hall” tells the story of a young woman who, going against her mother’s wishes, goes out to a local dance hall or night club.

While there she meets a handsome, young man who sweeps her off her feet and the two begin to dance.

At some point during the night she breaks out of his spell long enough to look down and notice that instead of feet he has cloven hooves (or chicken feet, depending on the source).

She has been dancing with the Devil.

His cover blown, it is said that he disappears with a puff of smoke and the smell of sulfur.

Though it is a story told by many cultures, there are those who say it actually happened at the El Camaroncito Night Club on Old Highway 90 in San Antonio, TX on Halloween Night 1975.

So ladies, next time you’re out dancing, check the feet of that sexy, young man you’re dancing with. Who knows, you just might be dancing with the Devil.