#Spirits Appearance to a Witch

[kentnaturaltribrid]

One simple word: Lights

(And not the turnable on or off kind)

These kind never turn off.

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…

[ircnwrought]

e.lide tag dump

❛ lady of perranth ❜ ▬ ( jessie mei li as elide lochan. ) ❛ raven hair and fierce spirit ❜ ▬ ( elide lochan aesthetic. ) ❛ unbowed ❜ ▬ ( elide lochan body claim. ) ❛ show me everything ❜ ▬ ( elide lochan desires. ) ❛ from tower to court ❜ ▬ ( elide lochan headcanon. ) ❛ witch blood flows ❜ ▬ ( elide lochan appearance. ) ❛ thundering ❜ ▬ ( elide lochan music. ) ❛ clever mind spinning ❜ ▬ ( elide lochan musings. ) ❛ i made a promise ❜ ▬ ( elide lochan gif. ) ❛ finery for a queen ❜ ▬ ( elide lochan wardrobe. ) ❛ whispers from anneith ❜ ▬ ( elide lochan quote. ) ❛ terrasen and beyond ❜ ▬ ( elide lochan world. ) otp: i will always find you (lorcan x elide)

[docgold13]

Profiles in Villainy

The Kaonashi

Sometimes known as ‘No Face,’ The Kaonashi is a denizen of the spirit realm possessing tremendous and destructive powers.  It devours other spirits and can absorb their emotions into his own soul, causing him to take on their attitudes, especially negative ones. 

When The Kaonashi happened upon the lost human girl, Chihiro, he followed her around, attracted by her feelings of loss.  Chihiro had been made a servant at the spirit bathhouse and when she inadvertently offended Kaonashi, the dark spirit went on a destructive rampage.

He ended up trashing much of the bathhouse, consuming everything and thus transforming into a massive inky blob.  He only stopped after Chihiro offered him a dumpling which caused The Kaonashi to regurgitate everything he had eaten. With all of the gluttonous, greedy, and wrathful influences out of his system, he returned to a docile, calm state, showing remorse for his actions. He followed Chihiro to the good witch Zeniba's house.

When Chihiro prepares to leave, Zeniba requests that The Kaonashi stay with her as a helper and stay away from the negative influences of the Bathhouse that could set him off again. The spirit agrees, and stays with her as a humble and kind servant.

Though he never truly speaks, his moans and coos were performed by Akio Nakamura in the Japanese version, and Bob Bergen in the English dub version.  No Face The Kaonashi appears in the 2001 animated feature, Spirited Away.  

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: It’s not the usual suspects trying to summon the undead this time, and it’s proving to be a massive headache for John Constantine. They seem...Competent. 

When John sniffed out a new plot to summon a ghost, he kind of laughed it off. Ghosts were not more than shades of the people/creatures they used to be, without all the right resources and enough buy in from the greater spirits of the Infinite Realms, most entities that came thought might scare some kids at a slumber party but that was at most. Plus, kids were scary resilient these days thanks to the internet, so really, John’s not worried. 

Then he hears about the gathering of artifacts and he has to care a little more. He learns that one Jasmine Fenton is involved and he’s... Surprised. She’s got a public record of dismissing her parent’s inventions and causing stirs at supernatural conventions (not to mention a great reputation as a research focused psychologist). Jasmine’s credit cards report a great deal of cash (refunded to her account by an unknown off-shore account) being taken out and her location is right next to the last place anyone could find a shard of the Crown. 

Yeah, that Crown. The Infinite, ancient blessed and deity cursed one. John had meant to get around to investigating if the shard of obsidian (fire forged) was legit, so he begins to set his sights on Jasmine for a ‘chat’. 

Then Sam Manson, a scary ass Heiress, pulls up in a limousine and all but kidnaps him and dumps him outside city limits. She tells him that he’s been cursed for the next 48 hours to stay out of their city- If he comes close, any plant will identify him in a heartbeat and come to life to kill him. (Fun fact: there are a goddamn lot of plants surrounding this stupid town, even the dandelions are forging knives to kill him.)

THEN worse, Red Robin gets on his ass about cybersecurity of all things. Turns out another player, identified by the moniker TooFineTooFurious has been tracking John’s phone and has been rummaging around official JLD documents- How was John supposed to know that keeping his passwords on the notes app could be hackable? Red Robin declares him incompetent and John can only sigh, crush his phone and move on. 

That all leads him to the summoning portal in front of him in this weird ghost themed high school gymnasium. It’s far too competent. It gives him goosebumps even before he can read out that they’re summoning the King of the Infinite Realms himself. John clicks the panic alarm on his JL communicator before engaging with the Trio before him. 

They’re not wearing any capes, no candles are lit, but this is the scariest cult he’s ever seen. Jasmine Fenton, ghost denier, Sam Manson, Heiress and Plant Witch (?), Some other dude with a beret and fucking DRONES (he considers this might be the man who hacked him). John pleads with them, they don’t know what they’re trying to do. Pariah Dark will kill them all, eat their entire planet for breakfast!! Everyone rolls their eyerolls at him, and he’s taken aback by their nonchalance. 

Plant guards grab him and a drone has a laser sight on his forehead. He fights but is subdued- They’re almost done chanting when Superman, Green Lantern, Red Robin and Cyborg all appear. Despite their disruption- the chanting ends with the green illumination of the circle. Despair fills the air. 

And then- Poof- a groaning young man appears. 

“Dudes you have no idea how unhelpful the Infi-map is sometimes. I was lost for like weeks and CW was being such a bitch ab- What. Wait, who are all- Holy shit did you guys summon the Justice League?” The Ghost King in full Regalia stared back at them in questioning concern. The three summoners start bitching  at the monarch and John... isn’t sure if this is going to be an interdimensional incident yet. 

[moonastro]

Astrology notes pt.3

Autumn edition (spiritual)🍂

🥀 12th house ruler in 1st house can make an individual see ghosts/spirits. If ruler is in 3rd house, this can even go as far as being able to communicate with them.

🥀IC in Scorpio and especially if ruler of ic is in Scorpio, it can mean that that person has a long line of witches in their family, Pluto also needs to have significance in the placement.

🥀Jupiter in Scorpio/8th house individuals please keep your goals and manifestations to yourself and don’t be spreading them to people. As luck follows you if you keep accomplishments and your plans to your self.

🥀7th house ruler in 0 degrees, your have met your future spouse in a past life/lives and this can be a very spiritual and fulfilling connection. can feel out of this world and its literally your soul just trying to find this person to meet again.

🥀 suns ruler in 6th house can make an individual more prone to colds/ being cold all the time (since the 6th house is the house of ill health and the ruler in the 6th house or having connections to the 6th house reverses the hot represented by the sun into cold). also the sun rules over the heart and blood and so this tends to make a person have weak blood/cold blood.

🥀another observation to do with being ill, the scariest can be not knowing that you are ill which can be depicted from having uranus in the 6th house. the individuals with this placement can seriously suffer from unknown illnesses and may experience difficulty with health but not be diagnosed as it may not even exist. especially, can experience unknown symptoms and their body can seriously act almost foreign when it comes to illness.

🥀mars in cancer people, i dont know if people talk about this or not but i have noticed that his placement irritates people unknowingly and they may not even do anything wrong. but i think its because this placement goes with the flow and are unbothered by things and people pick up on that and may recognised how they cant be controlled and hence the anger towards them. also this placement can trigger people unconsciously.

🥀11th house ruler in 8th house can attract a lot of people with paranormal experiences. they may also connect with those with paranormal interests,

🥀 moon trine venus individuals value and experience heavy nostalgia. they can tend to associate smells, noise, scenery etc with memories that they had with certain people.

🥀 in vedic astrology, if 7th house ruler is in pisces, this can indicate dreaming of your future spouse before even meeting them. so you literally can predict your meeting, their appearance etc with your dreams.

🥀 having venus in 12th house synastry with someone can indicate dreaming of them constantly. the house person especially can feel the severity of the spiritual connection between them romantic or not.

🥀 people dont actually talk about ketu in the 1st house as often. in my opinion it is one of the most spiritual placements you can have. this placement allows the individual to have unique experiences in life that usually indicates an intense connection to themselves and the spiritual realm. another thing i have noticed with this placement is that they feel like the odd one out which strengthens their relationship with themselves in a very spiritual level.

🥀mars in gemini people should work with a form of smoke- incense, wind etc. especially to relieve from stress or negativity. this can also be used while decluttering your space, meditating etc.

🥀 rahu in 7th house in your chart can indicate lessons being repeated in your life and this is especially related to one to one interactions with people. you can experience a lot of deja vu also with this placement.

🥀 speaking of deja vu, jupiter trine uranus can indicate experiencing deja vu also. but this placement can give a predicting sense to it so you can dream of something and it happens in real life but can happen multiple times also as jupiter is expanding the possibilities of the occurrence.

🥀 venus in pisces/trine jupiter individuals can have a soul deep connection with music.

🥀 pluto in 4th house can have an almost forbidden connection to their ancestors. this can translate in many ways such as not knowing much about them or literally not being in contact with any of them but craving the need to. on the other hand, you may not know it but your ancestors may quietly and subtly be by your side but may not want to be in contact with you.

🥀 continuing with the pluto talk, pluto in the 12th house can attract a lot of unknown and hidden obsessive people. you may not even know the people but they know you. its creepy but this can indicate having stalkers.

🥀 in vedic astrology, if you have your sun as your atmakaraka (highest degree) in your chart, you may enjoy summers-the sun a lot. sunny weather or during the hotter months, you can experience more memorable occurrences. the hotter months are almost like a recharge for your soul.

🥀 okay, i have found no blogs talk about dashas in vedic astrology. BUTTTT i find them to be very accurate and useful. as for me when i was going through a spiritual breakthrough i was in a jupiter mahadasha which is no surprise since jupiter rules spiritualism, wisdom, knowledge. (there is so much more depth in it but i think I'm going to do a post about it seperately because it is soo accurate).

once again, appreciate everyone who reads this and if you do know that you are loved and have a lovey day🤍😊

[lurukifennecfox]

Amity park was very young city spirt when it happened. the witch trials

outsiders came and started hunting, hurting her people, her humans, her witches, hurting her! she was small and mad and scared and stronger than she should've been so she did something. she scared them off! she made them drown in her lake, she made them get lost in the woods she appeared in their dreams and told them all she thought of their hypocrisy!

that's when she earned it, her title, she wasn't just Little Miss Amity anymore she was Saint. She was Saint Amity, little girl with wheet blond hair and a halo of stars, telling the bad outsiders to back off, to stop hurting the people of Amity Park and to leave before she made them regret it.

they did. some apologised and stayed, she didn't mind, they apologised and were genuinely helping fix what they broke but it wasn't enough for Saint Amity, she didn't trust outsiders, she closed the borders it might stunt her growth but she didn't care, she didn't want to be big and powerful she wanted Hers safe!

it was a while, she was older now, still little, still young, still strong but she thought, maybe she could try to take in new people, and these needed her, they needed protection, they seemed nice and were running away from bad bad bad outsiders. so she let them stay, they were nice, they helped her humans, they helped her witches, they helped her, they were Hers now, not outsiders, hers. they had kids those were definitely hers hers hers!

more people stayed some people left, she didn't like when hers left but that was their right, she let them. still the door stayed barley open.

someone wanted to settle Little Miss was sceptical, but they felt familiar and she let them, they were nice and smart and sily but a little chaos was good. they had kids and they were definitely hers now! her kids!

they played with ectoplasm and she liked it it made her stronger it made her kids more hers, but she noticed they were hurting their kids even if they didn't mean to make them sick or scared and she liked them! shoo! play in the lab don't hurt your kids silly silly parents!

she liked Little Jazz and littler Danny. they were more hers than other people, they were more of the realms than most living, even on the thin veil of Amity Park. she wondered if the Realms would let her keep them. Realms liked passionate they were passionate! her Jazz liked psychology and neuroscience and her Danny liked stars! she liked stars too she didn't let the lights pollution to form to cover her stars look Danny!

they wanted to make a portal to the Realms, a portal home, in their basement, she liked it so she allowed it but they were silly so they forgot to turn it on, and her Danny wanted to play in the lab, he was smart he could play in the lab with his friends. Little Miss trusts him.

the portal is open. her Danny is dead. her Danny is alive?.. Halfa! she heard of them! her Danny is a protection spirit and she will protect him too! like she always does. no outsiders they don't like different she learned from the witch trials and her refugees. they can leave if afraid but not talk about her Ghosts! she will keep them safe, she will keep them a secret.

[heartfullofleeches]

Basil: I'm going to roast that Aloe plant alive.

Strawberry: Hm? Remind me why we hate that guy again?

-

Aloe: Gooood morning, Farmer <3

Farmer Witch Reader: Ah. Good morning, Aloe. You appear to be in good spirits as usual.

Aloe:[giggles] Just happy to see my favorite farmer!.... Gah! Oh, my! Farmer- How long have you been out here! Your skin!

Farmer Witch Reader: Is something wrong?

Aloe: My dearest farmer... Your gorgeous skin has been tarnished by the sun! Worry not! Your faithful servant, Aloe Vera, will save you! Allow me to apply my saliva to the inflected areas.

Farmer Witch Reader: .... Alright.

Aloe: Thank you, My love!

[The Aloe Vera plant gleefully licks Farmer Witch Reader from their face to their shoulders.]

-

Strawberry: Can I be the one to kill them? [starts to tear up] Please let me kill them!

[greenwitchcrafts]

June 2024 witch guide

Full moon: June 21st

New moon: June 6th

Sabbats: Litha/Summer Solstice- June 20th

June Strawberry Moon

Known as: Aerra Litha, Birth Moon, Blooming Moon, Brachmanoth, Dyad Moon, Egg Laying Moon, Green Corn Moon, Hatching Moon, Hoer Moon, Honey Moon, Lovers Moon, Mead Moon, Moon of Horses, Moon of Making Fat, Partner Moon, Rose Moon & Strong Sun Moon

Element: Earth

Zodiac: Gemini & Cancer

Nature spirits: Sylphs & Zephyrs

Deities: Aine of Knockaine, Bendis, Cerridwen, Green Man, Ishtar, Isis, Neith & Persephone

Animals: Butterfly, frog, monkey & toad

Birds: Peacock & wren

Trees: Maple & Oak

Herbs: Dog grass, meadowsweet, moss, mugwort, parsley, skullcap & vervain

Flowers: Lavender, orchid, tansy & yarrow

Scents: Lavender & lily of the valley

Stones:  Agate, Alexandrite, cat's eye, chrysoberyl, emerald, fluorite, garnet, moonstone, ruby & topaz

Colors: Gold, green, orange & yellow

Energy:  Abundance, balance, change of residence, communication, decision making, education, family relations, full & restful energy, love, marriage, prosperity, positive transformation, prevention, protection, public relations, relationships, responsibility, strength, tides turning, travel & writing

While strawberries certainly are a reddish-pink color and are roundish in shape, the origin of the name “Strawberry Moon” has nothing to do with the Moon’s hue or appearance.

• June's full Moon is typically the last full moon of spring or the first of summer. The June Full Moon will be extraordinary. For the first time since 1985, Full Moon happens precisely on the summer solstice, when the Sun is highest up. Because the Full Moon is always opposite the Sun, this year, you will see that the Moon is 10 widths lower on the horizon than the Sun ever is. 

This “Strawberry Moon” name has been used by Native American Algonquian tribes that live in the northeastern United States as well as the Ojibwe, Dakota, and Lakota peoples to mark the ripening of “June-bearing” strawberries that are ready to be gathered. The Haida term Berries Ripen Moon reflects this as well. As flowers bloom and early fruit ripens, June is a time of great abundance for many.

Litha

Known as: Alban Heruin, Summer Solstice & Whit Sunday

Season: Summer

Element: Fire

Symbols: Besom, fairies, God's eyes, sunflowers & symbols of the sun

Colors: Blue, gold, green, orange, red, tan & yellow

Oils/Incense: Cinnamon, frankincense, heliotrope, lavender, lemon, lily of the valley, mint, musk, myrrh, orange, orange pine, pine, rose, saffron, sandalwood & wisteria

Animals: Cattle, crab, horse & octopus

Birds: Goldfinch, kingfisher, meadowlark, owl, robin & wren

Mythical: Fairies

Stones: Bloodstone, diamond, emerald, jade, lapis lazuli & tiger's eye

Food: Ale, bread, cheese, edible flowers, garden fresh vegetables & fruit, lemons, meade, milk, oranges, pumpernickel bread, summer squash & wine

Herbs/Plants: Anise, basil, betony, cinquefoil, copal, elder, fennel, fern, frankincense, galangal, hemp, ivy, larkspur, lemon, lemon balm, mistletoe, mugwort, mullien, nettle, orange, orpin, plantain, rue, saffron, sandalwood, St.John's wort, thyme, verbena, vervain, wild thyme & ylang-ylang

Flowers: Carnation, chamomile, daisy, heather, heliotrope, honeysuckle, lavender, lily, marigold, orchid, rose, wisteria & yarrow

Trees: Elder, holly, laurel, linden, oak & pine

Goddesses: Amaterasu, Aine, Anahita, Dea, Cerde, Dag, Dana, Eiru, Fenne, Gwydion, Kupala, Mabd, Phoebe, Skhmet & Sul

Gods: Apollo, Baal, Balder, Bel, The Dagda, Donnus, El, The Green Man, Helios, Huon, Jupiter, Llew, Loki, Lugh, Maui, Mithras, Oak/Holly King, Ogmios, Ra, Surya, Thor & Zeus

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Agriculture, changes, divination, ending, fertility, life, light, manifestation, power, purpose, strength, success & unity

Spellwork: Fire & water magick

Activities:

• Charge and cleanse your crystals in the solstice sun

• Make Sun water

• Create crafts with natural elements such as flowers

• Burn a paper with things that no longer serve you or that you are trying to let go

•  Invite friends & family over for a bonfire and/or feast

• Gather & dry herbs for the upcoming year

• Clean, decorate & cleanse your altar with summer symbols

• Brew some sun tea

• Take a ritual bath/shower with flowers

• Make your own sun dial

• Craft a door wreath out of flowers & herbs

• Enjoy some sunrise/sunset yoga

• Volunteer at a food kitchen or animal shelter

• Plant trees (especially ones that may provide fruit or berries to feed the wildlife)

• Watch the sunset & say a blessing to nature

• Make flower infused anointing/spell oils

• Eat fresh fruits & berries

• Participate in a handfasting

• Create shadow art

The history of Litha reveals its deep connections to ancient agricultural societies & their reliance on the sun's power. Celebrated as part of the Wheel of the Year, Litha symbolizes the balance between light & darkness. Throughout history  customs such as bonfires, herb gathering & the construction of sunwheels have marked this festival. Today, Litha continues to be celebrated by various communities, with gatherings at sacred sites & private rituals in natural settings. It serves as a reminder of our connection with nature and the cycles of life.

• The traditions of Litha appear to be borrowed from many cultures. Most ancient cultures celebrated the summer solstice in some way such as the Celts celebrated Litha with hilltop bonfires & dancing. Many people attempted to jump over or through the bonfires for good luck. Other European traditions included setting large wheels on fire & rolling them down a hill into a body of water.

Litha is often associated with Midsummer, a celebration that extends beyond the pagan and Wiccan traditions. Midsummer festivities are observed in many cultures around the world, including Scandinavian countries where it holds a prominent place in their cultural heritage. Midsummer dances, bonfires, & feasts are integral parts of these celebrations, often accompanied by folklore and traditional rituals that honor the sun's energy and the abundance of nature during this time.

The summer solstice is the longest day of the year & in some traditions, Litha is when The Sun(The God) is symbolically at it's peak time of power & the World will soon be ripe to harvest. It is also when The Goddess is pregnant with The God who is to be reborn at Yule.

• In the Northern Hemisphere the Summer Solstice occurs when the Sun reaches its highest and northernmost points in the sky. It marks the start of summer in the northern half of the globe. (In contrast, the June solstice in the Southern Hemisphere is when the Sun is at its lowest point in the sky, marking the start of winter.)

Some also believe the history & spirit of Litha revolve around two deities, The Oak King & The Holly King. In Wiccan and Neo-Pagan traditions, each King rules the Earth for half of the year. From Yule to Litha, the Oak King rules. On Litha, the two battled for the crown and it is then that the Holly King triumphs. The Holly King will rule through fall until Yule, and the cycle will begin again.

Related festivals:

• Vestalia- June 7th -15th

Was a Roman religious festival in honor of Vesta, the goddess of the hearth & the burning continuation of the sacred fire of Rome. It was held from 7–15 June & was reserved as a women's-only event. Domestic & family life in general were represented by the festival of the goddess of the house & of the spirits of the storechamber — Vesta & the Penates .

On the first day of festivities the penus Vestae (sanctum sanctorum of the temple of Vesta which was usually curtained off) was opened for the only time during the year, at which women offered sacrifices. As long as the curtain remained open, mothers could come, barefoot and disheveled, to leave offerings to the goddess in exchange for a blessing to them and their family.

For the last day, the penus Vestae was solemnly closed, the Flaminica Dialis observed mourning & the temple was subjected to a purification called stercoratio: the filth was swept from the temple and carried next by the route called clivus Capitolinus and then into the Tiber.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

[magickkate]

🪞🔮 A Beginner’s Guide: The Practice of Scrying 🔮🪞

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I got some messages that asked me to explain a bit more about scrying, and I wanted to make a separate post to clarify this method of divination from my main post on commonly used divination methods. So, let's dive in!

Scrying is a form of divination that involves gazing into a reflective surface or medium to receive insights, visions, or messages from the spiritual realm. It's a practice that has been used by various cultures and civilizations throughout history, dating back to ancient times.

1. Cultural and Historical Significance: Scrying has been practiced by cultures around the world for thousands of years. It has roots in ancient civilizations such as Egypt, Greece, Rome, and China, where it was used for divination, spiritual guidance, and accessing hidden knowledge.

2. Psychic Abilities: Some practitioners believe that scrying can help enhance psychic abilities such as clairvoyance (seeing visions), clairaudience (hearing messages), and clairsentience (feeling energies). By quieting the mind and opening oneself to the messages of the spiritual realm, practitioners may strengthen their intuitive faculties.

3. Modern Applications: While scrying has ancient origins, it continues to be practiced today by witches, psychics, and spiritual seekers around the world. Modern practitioners may incorporate scrying into their magical or spiritual practices, using it as a tool for guidance, insight, and personal growth.

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Here are some key aspects of the practice of scrying:

⦿ Tools: Scrying can be performed using a variety of tools, including: -> Crystal balls: Smooth, polished spheres made of crystal or glass. -> Black mirrors: Mirrors with a dark, reflective surface, often made of obsidian or other black stones. -> Bowls of water: Still water in a dark-colored or reflective bowl.- Flame: Gazing into the flame of a candle or fire. ⦿ Preparation: Before scrying, it's important to prepare yourself and your space. This may involve cleansing and consecrating your scrying tool, setting a sacred space for your practice, and quieting your mind through meditation or relaxation techniques. ⦿ Technique: To scry, you fix your gaze on the surface of the scrying tool while allowing your mind to relax and enter a receptive state. You may begin to see images, symbols, or visions appear in the reflective surface. It's important to maintain a soft focus and an open mind, allowing the messages to come through naturally. ⦿ Interpretation: After a scrying session, it's helpful to journal your experiences and interpretations. Pay attention to any symbols, images, or feelings that came up during the session and reflect on their significance. Trust your intuition and the guidance you receive from the spiritual realm. ⦿ Types of Scrying: While the most common form of scrying involves gazing into a reflective surface, there are other variations of the practice as well. This includes water scrying (gazing into bodies of water), fire scrying (gazing into flames), and even scrying using smoke or clouds. ⦿ Uses: Scrying can be used for various purposes, including divination, receiving guidance or insights, connecting with spirit guides or ancestors, and accessing subconscious or hidden knowledge. It can also be used as a tool for personal and spiritual growth, meditation, and self-reflection.

4. Ethical Considerations: Like any form of divination, it's important for practitioners to approach scrying with respect, integrity, and ethical awareness. Practitioners should be mindful of the potential impact of their readings on themselves and others and strive to use their abilities responsibly and ethically.

5. Experimentation and Exploration: Scrying is a deeply personal practice, and there is no one "right" way to do it. Practitioners are encouraged to experiment with different scrying tools, techniques, and environments to find what works best for them. Trusting one's intuition and inner guidance is key to successful scrying.

Overall, scrying is a versatile and powerful practice that allows practitioners to tap into their intuition, connect with the spiritual realm, and gain valuable insights and guidance. It’s a deeply personal and intuitive practice that can be adapted and customized to suit individual preferences and needs.

Regular practice, combined with an open mind and heart, can lead to deeper insights, clearer visions, and a stronger intuitive connection with the spiritual realm. Additionally, seeking guidance from experienced practitioners, studying relevant literature, and participating in supportive communities can offer valuable support and encouragement on the scrying journey.

This is not a tool I regularly use, simply because of my headaches. Either it’s the mundane tapping into your head saying, “Hey, knock it off, you don’t need to do this.” or it’s the magical side saying “Hey, you have better places to put your time and energy. this is not one of them.” So if you are interested in this practice by all means utilize it to the best of your ability, but if you can’t seem to focus or get really bad headaches all the time, this may not be the BEST practice for you. It is an option, though! just be careful, witchlings!

Remember to approach scrying with a sense of curiosity, wonder, and reverence for the mysteries of the universe. Trust in your own intuition and the guidance you receive, and allow the magic of scrying to unfold in its own time. With dedication and perseverance, the practice of scrying can become a profound and transformative tool for spiritual growth and enlightenment.

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Learn more: How to Scry Candle Wax in Water Tarot, Pendulums, Scrying, and More! Ways to Improve Psychic Gifts + Removing Mental Blockages Using A Witch's Mirror: Scrying, Automatic Writing, Spirit Work

[writingwithcolor]

How can non-Jewish writers include Jewish characters in supernatural stories without erasing their religion in the process?

Anonymous asked:

I have a short story planned revolving around the supernatural with a Jewish character named Danielle (who uses they/them pronouns). Danielle will be one of a trio who will be solving the mystery of two brides' deaths on the day of their wedding. My concern with this is the possibility of accidentally invalidating Danielle's religion by focusing on a secular view of the afterlife. At the same time, I don't want to assume that Jewish people can't exist in paranormal stories, nor do I want to use cultural elements that don't belong to me. So, how do I make sure that Danielle is included in the plot without erasing their Jewishness?

Okay so to start with I think we need to ask a question about the premise: what is a secular afterlife? I’m not asking this to nitpick or be petty, but to offer you expanded ways of thinking through this issue and maybe others as well.

A Secular Afterlife

What is a secular afterlife? To begin with, I get what you mean. The idea of an afterlife we see in pop culture entities like ghost media owes more to a mixture of 19th-century spiritualist tropes drawn from titillating gothic novels than to anything preached from the pulpit of an organized house of worship. Yet those tropes--the ominous knocking noises from beyond, the spectral presences on daguerrotype prints, the sudden chill and the eerie glow, all of those rely on the idea of there being something beyond this life, some continuation of the spirit when the body has ceased to breathe. For that, you need to discount the ideas that the consciousness has moved on to another physical body and is currently living elsewhere, and that it was never separate from the body and has now ceased to exist. Can we say that this is secular?

More so: Gothic literature, as the name suggests, draws heavily on Catholic imagery, even when it avoids explicit references to Catholicism. Aside from the architectural imagery, Catholic religious symbols permeate the genre, as well as the larger horror and supernatural media genres that grew from it: Dracula flinches from a crucifix, priests expel demons from human bodies, Marley’s Ghost haunts Ebenezer Scrooge in chains. The concepts of heaven and hell, and nonhuman beings who dwell in those places, are critical to making the narratives work. 

The basis also draws from a biblical story, that of the Witch of Endor. The main tropes of Victorian spiritualism are present: Saul never sees the ghost of Samuel, only the Witch of Endor is able to see “A divine being rising” from wherever he rises from, and her vague description, “I see an old man rising, wearing a robe,” evokes the cold readings of charlatan mediums into the present (Indeed, some rabbinic sources commenting on this assert that this is exactly what was going on).

While neither of these views of its origin define the genre as the sole property of Catholicism--or of Judaism for that matter--it would be hard exactly to categorize them as secular.

A Jewish Perspective on ghosts

However, it’s not the case that ghost media is incompatible with Jewishness, assuming that it doesn’t commit to a view of heaven and hell duality that specifically embraces a Christian spiritual framework. 

Jewish theology is noncommittal on the subject of the afterlife. The idea of a division between body and soul in the first place is found in ancient Egypt, for instance, earlier than the earliest Jewish texts. In Jewish text it’s present in narratives like the creation story, in which God crafts a human body out of earth and then breathes life into it once it’s complete. It also appears in our liturgy: the blessings prescribed to be recited at the beginning of the day juxtapose Elohai Neshama, a blessing for the soul, with Asher Yatzar, expressing gratitude for the body, recited by many after successfully using the bathroom. 

Yet it’s not clear that this life-force is something separate than the body that lives beyond it, until the apparition of the Witch of Endor. The words we use to describe it, whatever it is, evoke the process of breathing rather than that of eternal life: either ruach (spirit, or wind) or neshama (soul, or breath): neither is a commitment to the idea that it does--or that it doesn’t--go somewhere else when the body returns to the earth. 

Jewish folklore, however, leans into the idea of ghosts and other spiritual beings inhabiting the earthly plane (and others). Perhaps most famous is the 1937 movie The Dybbuk, in which a young scholar engaging in kabbalistic practices calls upon dark forces to unite him and his fated love, only to find himself possessing her body as a dybbuk. It appears that he is about to be successfully exorcized, but ultimately when his soul leaves her body, hers does as well. 

More relevantly to your story, a Jewish folktale inspired the movie The Corpse Bride. In the folktale version, a newly-engaged man jokingly recites the legal formula he will soon recite at his wedding, and places his ring on the finger of a nearby corpse--a reference to a time when antisemitic violence is said to have gotten worse not only at Jewish and Christian holidays as it does still to this day, but around Jewish weddings as well. The murdered bride stands up, a corpse reanimated complete with consciousness, and demands that the bridegroom honor his legal obligation. 

In the movie, the bride gives up her demand willingly: her claim on him is emotional rather than legal, and she finally accepts that he has an emotional connection with another person, that he doesn’t love her. In the folk tale, the dead woman takes him to court to decide whether their marriage is legal, since he spoke the legal words to her in front of witnesses as is required, and the court rules that the dead do not have the right to make legal demands on the living. In this version, the moral of the story is that a legal formula is an obligation; that when he jokingly bound himself to the corpse, he not only disrespected the dead but also the legal framework that structures society, and by so doing risked being obligated to keep his side of a contract he never intended to enact. 

This speaks to the ways that a Jewish outlook can differ from a Christian-influenced “secular” one. Christian-influenced cultural ideas can often focus around feeling the right thing, while Jewish stories will often center on doing the right thing. Does the Corpse Bride leave because she realizes she is not the one he loves? Because she--or he--learned a valuable lesson? Or because she loses her court case? It’s not that the boy’s emotions are irrelevant to the story--the tension, the suspense, the horror of the story takes place primarily within the boy’s emotional landscape--but emotions on their own are not a solution. The question “should he marry her” can be answered emotionally, but “has he married her” can only be answered by a legal expert, and once it has been the deceased bride may not have changed her emotional attachment to him, but she no longer has legal standing to pursue her claim. 

Centering legal rectitude over emotional catharsis isn’t a requirement for having Jewish characters in your story, but it’s worth thinking about what is and isn’t universal, what is and isn’t actually all that secular. 

Meanwhile, back at the topic:

Where does any of this place Danielle?

Well, unless you’re positing a universe in which Christian or other deities or cosmologies are confirmed to exist (See Jewish characters in a universe with author-created fictional pantheons for more on that topic), there’s no reason why they shouldn’t be perfectly fine interacting with whatever the setting you’re building throws at them. 

My wishlist for this character and setting runs more to the general things to consider when writing fantasy settings with Jewish characters: 

Don’t confirm or imply that Jesus is a divine being. That means no supernatural items like splinters of the cross, grails, nails, veils, etc. There’s nothing particularly powerful or empowering about this one guy who lived and died like so many others.

Don’t show God’s body and especially not God’s face, or confirm that any other gods or deities exist, whether that’s Jesus, Aphrodite, or Anubis, or someone you made up for the context. 

Don’t put Danielle in a position where they’re going to play into an antisemitic trope like child murder, blood drinking, world domination, or financial greed. If you have to, name it and let Danielle express discomfort with or distaste for those actions both because Jewish values explicitly oppose all of those things but also because Danielle as a Jewish character would be painfully aware of these stereotypes as present and historical excuses for antisemitic violence. 

Do consider what Danielle’s personal practice might look like. What does Danielle do on Shabbat? What do they eat or refrain from eating? What are their memories of Jewish holidays and how is their current holiday observance different than their childhood? I know I say “Jewishness is diverse” on every ask, but it is, and these questions--which also underscore how very much Judaism is rooted in one’s actions during this life--will help you develop how Judaism actually functions to inform Danielle’s character, even if you don’t spell out the answers to each of these questions in text. 

Do let Danielle find joy, comfort, and identity in their Jewishness not just in contrast with Christianity but simply because it’s part of the wholeness of their character. I know the primary representation of Jewishness is a snappy one-liner in a Christmas episode followed by the Jewish character joining in the Christmas spirit, blue edition, but make room for Jewishness to inform how Danielle approaches the events of your story, or why they decide to get or stay involved.  

-Meir

Hi it’s Shira with some Jewish ghost story recs written from inside–

When The Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb (deliriously good queer YA Jewish paranormal, mainstream enough that it’s got a good chance of being at your local library and won all kinds of awards)

The Dyke and the Dybbuk by Ellen Galford (sorry for the slur, warning for a paragraph of biphobia in the book but it’s an older book. I read this right before my divorce so my memories are super fuzzy but it’s about this modern day lesbian who gets possessed by the ghost of a different lesbian from hundreds of years earlier in Jewish history.) Nine of Swords Reversed by Xan West z’L of blessed memory - another queer Jewish paranormal.

The general plot is that two partners are struggling with how to be honest with each other about the effect disability is having on them. It’s got a very warm and fuzzy cozy vibe but kink culture is central to the worldbuilding so if that isn’t your vibe I didn’t want you to go in unaware.

The Dybbuk in Love by Sonya Taaffe. I don’t remember the details but I remember loving it, it’s m/f and romance between possessor and possessed.

I wrote a really short one called A Man of Taste where a gentile vampire woman and a Jewish ghost/dybbuk get together.

~S

[samsno1]

Flowers

Castiel x GN!Reader

i love his eyes. that's it, that's the tweet. guys...this is very sweet but i don't know if i'm satisfied?? tell me what you think, writing castiel is very hard, lawd

Summary: In a hunt, a flower appears over your pillow after you come back to the motel room at night. Who left it there?

Warnings: FLUFF, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, i pictured s4/5 cas in this, use of y/n, sweet confession, NOT PROOF READ, that's it? english isn't my first language

WC: 2.5k

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

When you started hunting with Sam and Dean one of the last things you expected to encounter was an Angel, especially after discovering they aren't “harps and halos" like in the books you read as a kid, but instead soldiers and sometimes assholes.

Castiel was an exception to the “asshole” part, he was actually very sweet when it came to you and the boys. Helped you, saved you and cared for you. In that sense, Cas was just like the Angel stories, a guardian of the humans he was in charge of.

And for you, it was fun teaching Cas about humans and how they behaved, helped him when he didn't understand Dean's pop culture references, got him to watch classic movies and listen to music and he was always very keen into doing so, curious and intrigued in what you explained to him.

Those big blue eyes always gave you his full attention, sometimes with that little frown that you started to call “The Angel Frown” while he questioned you about something that, to you, was basic knowledge. You were always as patient as possible with him, always clarifying what you could in words he could understand and that ended up always making him come to you for help.

In conclusion, you and Cas got closer and you started to catch yourself staring when he wasn't looking, admiring his smiles, drowning into his sapphire eyes and wishing that he had just more doubts about how people acted so you could spend more time with him.

You knew, from what Castiel told you, that Angels and feelings, human feelings at least, weren't compatible and that things such as love and romance weren't truly a reality for him and his siblings, they were warriors after all, created to serve their Father and that was it. 

Even when Castiel rebelled for the Winchesters, letting go of the “I don't serve men” mindset was difficult but you, Dean and Sam were there for him. You were more understandable then the brothers because you knew Cas was trying his best.

And because you fell for the Angel, but nobody needed to know that.

One night you arrived at the motel room you were staying at, after waving goodnight to Sam and Dean, them going to their separate room.

You opened the door and sighed deeply in exhaustion. It had been a long day of questioning and more questions appearing then those answered. At first you guys thought of a vengeful spirit, then cursed object, then witch. All of those possibilities were still up and it was driving you three insane. People were dying and you felt useless.

Once you closed the door and threw your stuff in the closest table you turned to your bed, where your bag was placed to get some clothes to take a well deserved shower. But, when you looked at your pillow, you noticed a single pink flower sitting over it and you furrowed your eyebrows.

You approached the flower slowly, skeptical about it, your hunter instincts telling you this wasn't good news. You slowly reached for it, as if it could bite your hand off, and picked it up. You analyzed the plant, very confused and grabbed your laptop.

You searched until you found a flower similar to the one you were holding and learned it was a Camellia. You looked between the screen and the flower and you searched up what a pink Camellia meant because, as much as you knew, flowers weren't really something you looked into.

What you found was shocking. According to the internet, a pink Camellia represents admiration and appreciation and Camellias and general represent love and affection. You widen your eyes at the flower in your hands, looking around your empty room as if someone would pop up and explain what this was doing at your bed. Wrong room?

You couldn't think of anybody that could give you this willingly. It definitely wasn't Sam or Dean because, first, they spent the whole day by your side and, second, unless they meant it platonically, the boys didn't see you like that. You loved them and they loved you, of course, but, to them, you were like a sister Dean loves you like he loves Sam, the same way Sam loves you like he loves Dean and vice-versa.

The only person that came to your mind was…No, it couldn't be, he said himself, love for him was basically unachievable but you couldn't help but wonder, even if your rational brain said it was stupid to think Cas would mean that. You smiled at the flower, that tinge of hope lightning inside you.

You looked around the room to look for something you could fill up with water and found an empty beer bottle. That'll do.

You washed the bottle to get the smell of alcohol off and filled it up with water, placing the little flower inside.

The pink color of the petals clashed with the transparent green of the bottle and you smiled at that. It looked cute in a way. You thought, even if this didn't come from someone you knew, you were keeping it, at least the flower.

You left the makeshift vase in your nightstand and took your stuff to the shower, peeling off your suit and your tie on the way, leaving it on the ground as you locked yourself inside the bathroom.

In these moments, Cas thanked his abilities of becoming unseen because you arrived just as he was leaving the Camellia over your pillow. He spent the day researching flowers, finding an interest in how humans always gave them to the people they cared about or to the ones who passed. He wanted to give you one to show you that he cared for you and also as a thank you for being patient with him for a long time.

He always felt happier around you, a warm feeling inside him always seemed to bloom. He felt the need to be close to you, like you were a human magnet. Everytime you looked at him he felt a weird feeling in his stomach, your smile was always something he felt the need to chase, he wanted to see it always in your face. He admired the way your eyes would shine when you were talking about something you liked.

When he saw you placing the flower on the nightstand with a smile he felt that weird feeling in his stomach again. He would do anything to see that look on your face again.

That hunt lasted a week, taking you three too long to figure out it was a witch and even longer to find said witch and to say you guys were fed up was an understatement. 

For that long week you dared to say you missed the Angel, you thought about calling him, praying to him, multiple times but what were you going to say when he arrived? Missed you? I just wanted to see you?

Everything you thought sounded too intimate so you discarded the idea of calling him.

But two more flowers appeared on your pillow after that pink Camellia. A Peony that you learned meant for the Chinese something along the lines of “the most beautiful” and a stunning Carnation in a light red shade that represented admiration. At this point you were very intrigued about who was the one giving you the flowers, Castiel still on your mind. You didn't want to get your hopes too high, you were probably overthinking it anyways, making your heart speak louder than your brain.

You were lying on your bed, staring at the tiny bouquet of three flowers given piece by piece to you. It was your last night in that room, Dean having insisted he needed the sleep so as to not crash the Impala from tiredness. You had offered to drive as you weren't as bad as he was but, of course, that was an immediate no from the older brother so all of you settled for one more night.

As you close your eyes and start to fall asleep, a sudden flutter of wings gets your attention. It's dark in the room so you take a peek and for sure it's Cas. You hold back a smile and close your eyes, pretending to be sleeping.

You feel the Angel approaching the bed, his presence making your heart quicken in your chest. From what it sounds like, he's just standing, watching you and you start to feel very nervous.

Castiel on the other hand arrived to see your sleeping form and couldn't help but watch. You looked peaceful, your breathing was calm and you looked…pretty. Cas thought all his father's creations were wonderful but he felt like you could top them all, literally, in your sleep.

He had another little flower in his hand which, to him, had a very self-explanatory name, a Forget-Me-Not.

He spun the blue flower on his fingers, debating if he should leave it inside the vase or besides you, over your pillow. 

He approached you and while he was placing the flower next to your head he felt a gentle hand wrap around his wrist and instantly froze on the spot.

You opened your eyes and looked at his near-horrified face. You smiled at him.

“Got you” You said, a little above a whisper and looked at the flower he was holding. That one you knew the name and what it meant and you felt warmth spreading through your cheeks, not just at that one flower, but knowing now that all those flowers you received came from Cas.

“I'm sorry for disturbing you” He said as he retreated his hand and you held the Forget-Me-Not. He was tense, not looking at you.

“So you were the secret admirer leaving me these flowers?” You asked as you slowly sat up on the bed and placed the blue flower inside the bottle with the three others. You placed both your hands over your lap, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. “Why?”

He looked around. What was he supposed to say? Himself barely knew why he was doing this but it felt right so he kept going with it. He noticed that the flower meanings resembled things that he felt or thought of you and he enjoyed collecting them for you, especially after you kept them.

“These flowers all have a meaning behind them” He started “Take them as a thank you for…being helpful with my understanding of human behaviors” 

You smiled stupidly at that. The way he said it sounded like something he had rehearsed before coming to you to say it, the words too polite. But yet, that's one of the things you liked about him.

“You didn't have to Cas…They are beautiful, thank you” You said and looked at the flowers again, biting your lip. You felt his eyes on you, it was always intimidating. You knew that it was just the way he was, look right into your eyes while you talk to show you had his full attention, his beautiful blue orbs hypnotizing.

Cas analyzed every aspect of yours as you sat in front of him, his eyes wondering over your figure and his hands moved faster than his thoughts and he reached for your shoulder, his palm traveling from your shoulder blade to the end of your upper arm and back up, tracing a pattern over your skin. He longed to touch you and be closer to you in a way he couldn’t explain so, in this moment, you both alone, he decided to fulfill this wish.

You widened your eyes and looked up at Castiel who was entranced by the movement of his hand, goosebumps flaring up on your skin.

“Cas?” You said and acknowledged your call with a hum “What are you…?”

He finally looked at you, his hand steadied on your shoulder.

“When I’m around you I always feel this need to touch you, be closer and this…” He shakes his head, finding a word to define how he felt. “Warmth comes over me everytime you smile”

His eyes bore through yours and you could only stare back at him, shocked.

“Cas, you’re saying–”

“I think I might love you, Y/N” He interrupted. The way he said it sounded like a confusion, a slight approach, as if he was tiptoeing around the thought, not sure if he wanted to grasp it or just keep his distance.

You were dumbfounded. He sounded so sincere and your heart started to beat faster, his hand over your shoulder felt like it was burning through your skin. It all made sense, the flowers, the way he was always keen on talking to you even when you did most of the talking and he just listened with a faint smile and pure interest, he just didn’t know because he never felt like this before, he didn’t know what loving was like.

You landed a hand over his cheek, your eyes practically watering with an emotional overload at his words. You thumb rubbed the light stubble on his cheek and you pulled him in for a hug. You wanted to kiss him so bad but you were on a baby steps basis with the Angel.

You hugged him tightly, his hands hesitantly wrapping around your frame as you let out a deep breath. When you pulled back, you didn’t pull away completely from him looking between his eyes and his mouth, a giddy smile on your face.

“I think I might love you too Castiel” You said and he widened his own eyes, a light chuckle coming out of you at his reaction.

Your chuckles were cut off by his lips on yours and you gasped in surprise. His mouth was as soft as you expected, his lips moving against your in perfect sync. He was impressively a good kisser, one of his hands gently holding at the back of your neck while the other slid down to your waist.

You felt like a bomb had exploded inside you, a foreign feeling of happiness spreading to every single cell on your body as your arms wrapped around his neck to hold yourself when he sat on the bed, pulling you over his lap, making you yelp.

You both pulled away, your arms still wrapped around each other and he had a light smile on his face. You one hundred per cent had a shocked look on yours, your cheeks hot and breathing heavy.

“Where’d you learn that?” You asked, absolutely knocked by the kiss.

“Dean told me a thing or two” He said and you couldn’t help but laugh, your body shaking against his as he also chuckled. “It seems like I did great?”

You stopped your laughs and looked in his eyes, drowning in their ocean blue. You gave a peck to the corner of his mouth.

“You did amazing” You said as one of your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck and he pulled you in, the warmth spreading through both of you yet again, never wanting to let go.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback helps me make those writing better. Thank you for reading, XoXo.

[ladyiristheenchantress]

Warding your eyes

This post is for my folks who currently use glasses, contacts, or other visual aid's!

What is Warding with your eyes?

This is a concept similar to taking on a witches name, however it has to do with your visual aids! They say that eye's are the windows to the soul, but what about people or entities or energies that are looking to disrupt our peace? Well this is a great ward to follow as a personal ward

I recently had this revelation when my glasses shattered in the sea after I slipped under the riptide and as I was grabbing my glasses under the water, a shell came and smashed them (I am ok, I am trained to handle that and am a strong swimmer). I ended up going to one of those minute labs to get new frames and lenses, but I realized something.

If eyes are a part of you that exposes a lot about your being, whether you believe in iridology, window theory, etc then why wouldn't you ward a possible weakness? Witches names are a name a witch takes on to act like a deflector, if someone hexes them using the wrong name then it doesn't touch down, so the idea of this spell is If someone attempts to harm you spiritually, you are now wearing 'different eye's' and can reflect the spell. All it takes is a bit of enchantment. We will be banking on the fact that glasses somewhat obstruct the eye (when you look at someone's eyes through glasses they can appear different, bigger, or smaller) but you can see them clearly.

The Spell

This spell is best done on a new moon, high tide, or on a Wednesday! all of these have correspondences of protection, deflection, etc. ingredients: - Glasses/eye aid - Cleaning solution - Cleaning cloth (If being done with contacts or other eye aids, adapt this to be the aids, whatever you use to clean them with, and IF NEEDED a drying apparatus) The Steps: 1. Set up your space how you choose to do so, set your aid down in front of you. Meditate over or reflect on what the glasses mean to you 2. Envision or create a chant that reflects the eye-dea (haha) of people/spirits/energies with bad intentions not being able to effect you, because they cant see the right person to harm because of the visual aid 3. Take your finger and stamp a sigil of warding either on the lens, contact case, or safe spot on the aid 4. Clean it off to 'rub it into' the device 5. Finish the spell how you choose to finish, and transition out of the ritual space I hope you all enjoyed! More content coming soon!

Tip Jar

[halosdiary]

witch's brew | witch! t. fushiguro x magical girl!reader | 呪術廻戦

a/n: if I'm starting kinktober, I'm starting it right. Have some toji you animals. I personally blame @blkkizzat and @hoshigray for this.

wc: 2.5k

contains: masturbation, sexual fantasies, entrapment, kidnapping, unrequited love, possessive behavior, just horror themed based.

synopsis: it seems that you have an admirer in the form of a witch.

The night was unnaturally quiet, the air thick with an impending sense of doom. You’d been walking home from an uneventful evening, but something was wrong. The moon hung too low, too bright, casting strange shadows that seemed to follow your every step. Your chest tightened, anxiety gnawing at you like a parasite. Every rustle in the trees, every crunch of a leaf made your skin prickle with unease. You swore someone was watching.

That’s when he appeared.

Toji Fushiguro.

He was panting, stroking himself, his arm shielding away his eyes. the sight of you always in his mind. You were beautiful to him, you were everything he envisioned. Your smile, your innocent spirit, the way you just looked so perfect. His moans echoing his chambers as he slowly started to thrust more as he felt himself about to cum soon.

"Fuck...FUCK." He hissed out. His blacken hand feeling each inch of ecstasy.

As he arches his back, he yells out as he sprays out nice essence at the throat of you. An orb was glowing as he grabs it and looks into it. He saw you, you were finishing up something, and just wanted to go home. You were done slaying curses for one night and were heading home.

Tall, dark, and painfully handsome, his presence was as overwhelming as it was eerie. His eyes gleamed with a wicked intensity, and his lips curved into a smile that sent chills down your spine. You’d seen him before—once, in passing, and again in your dreams, where the world twisted into something nightmarish.

"Leaving so soon?" his voice was smooth, almost mocking.

Your heart raced. Every instinct told you to run, but your feet remained frozen in place. You tried to speak, but words caught in your throat.

Toji stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I've been watching you," he said, his tone casual, as if talking to an old friend. "You, with all your power... It’s fascinating, really."

You felt a surge of magic flicker within you, instinctively raising your guard. But before you could react, he raised a hand, muttering something under his breath. Darkness exploded around you, and the world spun into oblivion.

When you awoke, everything was wrong.

You were no longer in your world.

The room was unfamiliar—gothic, ornate, and suffocating. The air was thick with magic, dark and twisted, and you felt it clawing at your skin, seeping into your very soul. You tried to move, but invisible chains bound you in place.

Toji stood before you, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint. "You're mine now," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "There’s no escape."

You struggled against the invisible hold, summoning every ounce of magic you had left, but nothing worked. It was as if the very air around you drained your power.

Toji chuckled, watching your futile attempts.

"You don’t understand, do you? You’ve walked right into my trap. This place... it bends to my will. And you?" He knelt in front of you, lifting your chin with a single finger. "You’ll never leave."

Panic rose in your chest, suffocating you. His presence was overwhelming, oppressive. You felt his magic wrap around your mind like a vice, tightening slowly, mercilessly.

"Let me go!" you gasped, your voice trembling.

He tilted his head, amused by your defiance. "Why would I ever do that? I’ve been searching for someone like you for so long. A magical girl with so much potential... You’re perfect." His voice dripped with obsession, his eyes darkening with desire—though not the kind you expected. His obsession was something darker, more twisted, a need to control, to torment.

Days blurred together in that prison. Toji was always there, watching, waiting. He whispered dark curses in your ear, slowly unraveling your mind. You would wake to his voice in the dead of night, a phantom in the darkness, promising that you belonged to him. Every time you tried to fight, to escape, he would tighten his grip, his magic suffocating your own.

"You’ll never be free," he would say, his lips grazing your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "No one will ever find you here. No one can."

You could feel yourself unraveling, piece by piece. He would keep you locked away, forever a prisoner in his cursed world. And the worst part? You began to doubt yourself. The walls seemed to close in, your reality slipping away. His voice became the only constant, his presence the only thing you could rely on.

Maybe you were crazy. Maybe this was all a dream. Or worse, maybe it wasn’t.

Toji's obsession only grew with time, his torment becoming more intimate, more invasive. He would appear in your thoughts, twisting your memories, making you question what was real and what was his doing. Every time you thought you had a moment of clarity, he would be there, dragging you back into his grasp.

"You can't escape me," he whispered, his voice echoing in the dark. "No matter how hard you try."

You screamed, but your voice was swallowed by the void.

Toji smiled.

You were his.

Forever.

The days stretched into weeks—or was it longer? Time itself had become a blur, an untraceable loop in this twisted dimension Toji had crafted around you. The lines between reality and nightmare thinned until they bled into one another. You couldn’t remember what it felt like to be free.

Every day, Toji was there, his dark presence a constant reminder that you were nothing more than his puppet. He never allowed you to be alone for long. You would wake to find him watching from the shadows, his piercing eyes drinking in every ounce of your fear, feeding off your helplessness. It was as if he relished your suffering, delighted in watching you come apart at the seams.

Sometimes, he was gentle, almost tender. He would sit beside you, brushing the hair from your face, his touch cold but oddly soothing. "Why do you resist, little one?" he would murmur, his voice low and seductive. "Don’t you see? I could give you everything. All the power you could ever want, all the knowledge of the dark arts... If only you would stop fighting me."

But you knew better. His words were poison, a slow-acting venom that crept into your veins with every passing day. He wasn’t offering you freedom. No, he was trying to mold you, break you, until there was nothing left of who you once were. He wanted to consume you, body and soul, until you were nothing more than a hollow shell, a reflection of his own twisted desires.

And despite your attempts to hold on to your sanity, you could feel the cracks deepening. You tried to remind yourself of the life you had before Toji trapped you in this dark purgatory, but the memories were fading. Your friends, your family, even your own reflection in the mirror had become distant, abstract things.

Sometimes, you questioned if they ever existed at all.

And Toji—he noticed. He always noticed.

One evening, when the suffocating darkness of his world felt heavier than ever, Toji appeared, sitting at the foot of your bed with that familiar, cruel smirk. "I see you’ve been thinking about escaping again," he purred. His voice was silk laced with malice. "You still believe there’s a way out of this, don’t you?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your throat felt raw from all the silent screaming you had done, your thoughts tangled and foggy.

He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting across your skin.

"Do you know what I love most about this curse I’ve placed on you?" His smile widened, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "It’s not just your body that belongs to me. It’s your mind." He tapped a finger to your temple, his touch electrifying in the worst way possible.

"I know what you’re thinking before you even think it. Every fear, every hope, every desperate little plan to escape—none of it is a secret to me."

Your chest tightened with panic as his words sank in. It was true. Every time you had tried to break free, something had gone wrong—like he knew your thoughts before you could act on them. You had been playing right into his hands, and now, the despair was unbearable.

He tilted your chin upward, forcing you to look into his eyes. "You’re starting to understand now, aren’t you?" His voice dropped to a whisper, dark and intoxicating. "There is no escape from me. Not here. Not ever. I will have you, in every sense of the word."

Something inside you shattered at that moment. A sob ripped from your throat, and the tears you had been holding back for so long finally spilled down your cheeks. Toji only smiled, his expression one of triumph.

"Good," he said softly, brushing a tear away with his thumb. "Let it all out. The sooner you accept your place here, the sooner we can stop this silly game of resistance."

You wanted to fight, to scream at him, but your strength was slipping away, stolen by the relentless grip of his curse. Each passing day, each whispered word from his lips, eroded the pieces of you that still held on to hope.

There were moments, fleeting and cruel, when you thought you felt something stir within Toji—something softer, a glimpse of the man beneath the monster. But those moments were always brief, vanishing like mist under the sun, leaving only his malevolent intent behind. You were his obsession, his dark prize, and he had no intention of ever letting you go.

And as time stretched on, the worst part wasn’t the torment. It wasn’t the loneliness, or the fear, or even the way he toyed with your mind, unraveling you bit by bit.

The worst part was that you were beginning to believe him.

His whispers echoed in your mind, filling the void with sweet promises of surrender. Maybe this was your fate. Maybe he was right. Maybe you would never escape. And as the last fragments of your resistance began to crumble, you felt a sickening sense of relief—because at least in surrender, there would be an end to the struggle.

Toji’s voice cut through the darkness one last time, soft and full of twisted affection. "You’re mine," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "And soon, you’ll learn to love it."

And in the silence that followed, you couldn’t help but wonder if you already were.

The days slipped into a state of numbness. You had stopped counting the time, stopped fighting against the inevitable. The once-loud voice in your head screaming for escape had grown quieter, weaker. Toji’s presence had seeped so deeply into your mind that you could no longer distinguish his thoughts from your own.

And in those quiet moments, when he wasn’t watching you, you would feel it—the curse tightening around your soul like a noose. There was no escaping it. You had tried everything, but now… now, a part of you wondered if it was worth it to keep trying.

One evening, Toji appeared in your room, his silhouette framed by the dim light of a flickering candle. His expression was different, colder. His obsession hadn’t wavered, but there was a new edge to it, something more dangerous, more final.

"You’ve been quiet," he said, his voice smooth as ever. "No more attempts to break free? No more fighting?" He tilted his head, studying you with that unnerving gaze. "Have you finally accepted it?"

You stared at him, your body too tired to move, too drained to react. Deep down, something inside you still screamed, still begged for release, but it was so far away now, buried under layers of magic and madness.

Toji’s smile widened, pleased with your silence. "Good," he whispered, stepping closer, his shadow engulfing you. "You’re almost ready."

Almost ready for what? A flicker of fear surged within you, but it was fleeting, drowned out by the heavy, oppressive weight of his curse. You wanted to ask, but your throat felt constricted, as if speaking would unravel you entirely.

Without warning, he reached out, his fingers grazing your face. But this time, his touch wasn’t cold. It burned, searing your skin, branding you with his curse in a way you hadn’t felt before. You flinched, but the magic binding you held you still.

Toji’s eyes gleamed with something primal, something more than mere possession. "You don’t understand yet, do you?" he whispered, his voice laced with dark amusement. "This isn’t just about keeping you here. This curse... it’s about making you mine, in every sense. Body, mind, soul."

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath sending a sickening shiver down your spine. "I’ve been patient. I’ve let you fight, struggle, even hope for a way out. But that’s over now."

A cold dread washed over you as his words sunk in. You tried to move, to scream, to do anything to stop what you knew was coming, but it was too late.

Toji’s grip tightened, and you felt the full weight of his magic flood your senses. Your mind screamed in agony as the curse dug deeper, sinking into your very being. Memories you had clung to—the faces of loved ones, the warmth of freedom—shattered like fragile glass. Your thoughts twisted and warped until they were no longer your own. The last remnants of your identity, the last pieces of you that had resisted him, were being torn away.

You gasped, choking on the darkness that swallowed you whole. Toji’s voice echoed in your mind, louder than ever, his whispers filling every corner of your consciousness.

"You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And now… you’ll never escape me."

The truth hit you like a dagger to the heart.

This was it. There was no escape, not from him, not from this place. Even if you could leave the room, the world outside would never be yours again. The curse had taken root, deeper than you had ever imagined. You weren’t just trapped in his world.

You were becoming part of it.

Your vision blurred as tears welled up, but even they felt wrong, foreign, as if your emotions were no longer truly yours to control. You could feel the walls of this twisted prison closing in on your soul, tightening, suffocating. Your heartbeat slowed, your breath shallow, as if your body itself was slipping away into the void.

And Toji stood over you, watching it all unfold, his eyes filled with a dark, victorious satisfaction. He had won.

The final, horrifying realization crashed into you.

You weren’t just his prisoner anymore. You were becoming him.

Piece by piece, your thoughts, your memories, your very soul were being consumed by the curse, by him. You could feel Toji’s presence growing stronger inside you, his dark magic replacing everything that had once been you. Your mind fractured under the weight of his influence, and a sickening dread filled your chest as you realized that, soon, there would be nothing left of you at all.

In the last moment of clarity before the darkness swallowed you whole, you saw it—the faintest flicker of yourself, disappearing into the void. And then, it was gone.

Toji smiled, leaning down to press his lips against your forehead, sealing your fate.

"Welcome home," he whispered.

And in that moment, you knew the horrifying truth.

You were no longer the victim.

You were the curse.

Forever trapped in Toji’s world. Forever him.

TAGLIST: @ryomens-vixen @littlemochabunni @blkkizzat @buttercupblu143 @lowkeyremi @yung-notorious @arlerts-angel @honeeslust @nkogneatho @hoshigray

[serpentface]

An old wildwoman, a fae-like mountain spirit closely associated with scimitar deer, as described in folklore in the Greathill region.

Wildfolk are depicted as petite humans, always naked, usually unnaturally pale, with older adult adult men and women both having long, shaggy beards and eyes that reflect light. Wildfolk youths are described as preternaturally beautiful in stark contrast, only gaining their unsettling appearances and unkempt beards as they age.

These spirits are said to make their homes in hills, forests, and mountaintops beyond the immediate borders of human habitation, where they live in dispersed parallel societies as herders and sorcerers. They are often depicted as mischievous, and take joy in meddling in human affairs and harassing travelers. Most of their pranks are not particularly malicious (though their victims may not see it that way) but they are said to be capable of inflicting curses and transforming victims into animals.

They are very fond of alcohol, and offerings of murre (a fermented milk beverage, usually made with berries for extra alcohol content) wine or ale may grant their boon. It is typical in villages to leave offerings out to any local wildfolk on the night of the new moon to maintain good relations and avoid their harassment.

Scimitar deer are said to be their livestock, herded and milked like cattle by the wildfolk but never eaten (most traditions hold that they eat no meat at all). Wildfolk themselves have the ability to shapeshift into deer (in some traditions, recognizable by retaining human eyes in deer form), and spend most of their lives in this form, only taking human form at night.

Their society is believed to be led by witches, powerful sorcerers who can influence weather patterns and shapeshift into any animal, most commonly taking the forms of eagles. Witches in particular are seen as highly dangerous (though not intrinsically malevolent), and areas believed to be inhabited by them are generally avoided. Exceptions are made in times of trouble, when offerings of grain and fine wine are left to plead for their boon. Exceptions are also often made by rowdy teenagers, trespassing on a witch's territory as a dare.

One tale describes a king of ancient Ephennos who, while on campaign, abducted the young and beautiful daughter of the famed wildwoman witch Bernike to take as his wife. In revenge, Bernike transformed him into a gazelle, and he was (unknowingly) hunted, killed, and eaten by his own men. The butchered carcass reverted to that of a human by the next morning, and the men committed suicide or were driven mad in the face of their cannibalistic transgression. Their restless spirits are said to still haunt Bernike's pass, while the ghostly gazelle-king is her personal mount.

Livestock raiding is of cultural significance in the region, and raid tales are another key part of the wildfolk mythos. These tend to involve a wily hero who steals a wildman’s deer herd, and manages to keep his prize and avoid being cursed by outsmarting the spirit's trickery. Once his, the deer provide milk that extends the lifespan (the folk hero Kulyos is said to have lived for 200 years), and plow fields with tremendous speeds without tiring. The native-bred khait stock of this region is said to have been hybridized with Kulyos' stolen deer, which affords these khait their hardy, surefooted nature and pointed horns.

The other common theme in folklore is a wildfolk youth as a bride or groom. Mortals with supernatural grooms are luckier, as the child is usually deemed fully human but has the blessing and protection of their supernatural sire (who inevitably transforms into a deer and leaves). Tales of marriage to a wildwoman usually end in the bride becoming restless and lonely, and transforming both herself and her child into a deer and fleeing back into the hills. Both bride and groom tales sometimes end with the wildman spouse returning to their human lover on certain nights, or meeting again at certain times of the year (usually new moons or midsummer).

These variants often involve elements where the returning supernatural spouse has developed their beard and rugged appearance, being almost unrecognizable from the beautiful youth that was wed. (Well kept beards are considered handsome, but the beards of wildmen are seen as humorously long and unkempt). Comedic versions of the tale involve the returning spouse being insulted by their human lover’s lack of enthusiasm for their appearance and laying a (usually humorous) curse on them. More romanticized tales involve the human spouse so overcome by their love that they are unbothered, and they often live a long life with the boon of their supernatural lover and child.

An example of such a tale under the cut:

A highly romanticized, 'uh' and projection-laden version of the wildwoman bride folktale as orally recited by Brakul, probably at least a little drunk:

---

“So, there is this young herder. He’s a man grown but still unmarried, so he’s still tending his mother’s cattle. He has them out to pasture high into the mountains, right? He's from a lesser clan, so most of their land is poor grazing. His cattle are so skinny and sickly that no one's going to the effort of stealing them. So it's not worth sending any warriors along, and he will be up there all alone for many weeks.

Every day he is very bored. Very lonely. And every night he starts to see a herd of deer moving among his cattle. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen them, they are mostly like gazelles? But bigger, and the males have one horn.

Anyway, the deer are up in his pastures, and there is not a lot of grass to go around, but he knows not to chase them off. Deer all belong to the wildfolk, yeah? You let them do their thing if you know what’s good for you.

Obviously there is a wildman or woman living on this mountain, so each night he leaves some of his murre- um. Is that a word here? It’s fermented milk and fruit, like ale. Wildfolk love it. He leaves some murre out in a cup just outside his camp each evening, and the cup is empty each morning.

So, yeah, the deer come every night, but they all keep their distance. They're very scared of humans, right? They keep well away. Except for this one doe. This doe walks right up to him. Every night she walks up to him, just out of arms reach. No fear. And this is a beautiful, fierce animal, so he becomes quite fond of her.

Anyway, there is many days of this. The herder moves the cattle around, and at night the deer come to graze, the doe comes to meet him, so on and so forth. His cattle are growing huge and fat and have plenty of milk, even with the terrible forage. He suspects the wildfolk of these hills have given him their blessing. So, things are looking pretty good for him, but he’s still quite lonely.

One night, it’s the new moon. Very dark. And it’s very cold up there. He is sitting at his fire, all wrapped in his blankets, you know, shivering and miserable. And he sees the deer herd making their way towards him, but something is different. There is a girl with them. And she’s completely naked. So, uh, you know, why is she naked? Isn’t she cold? No shoes, even. It’s crazy.

And this girl would’ve been walking for days to get up there, but there is no dirt, no cuts on her feet. And she's strange looking too, she's very short and has long, dark hair, and big, dark eyes. But the thing is, uh, she is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. She's so beautiful, she frightens him.

She comes up by the fire and sits right down next to him. I think he’s probably going, uh, are you okay? And he’s trying to give her his blanket or something, but she laughs at him. She’s just fine. Better off than he is.

So they talk, and he shares his food with her. And this guy is not stupid, so yeah, he figures out that this is a wildwoman, this is probably the same doe that had been visiting him. So he’s careful and polite with the strange, lovely girl. But he is not too careful to fall in love with her. Which, uh. He does. Immediately, I guess.

She visits every night from then on, and I think they probably have a lot to talk about. A lot to learn from each other, right? She really likes him too. She is a powerful wild spirit, but she’s still young, and has feelings just like any other youth. She’s fallen in love with this human too. Wildfolk are probably just as lonely as herders, I think. Just up there on the- the hills. Not a lot going on up there.

So. She’s there each night for the rest of the season, and they are, uh, having sex a lot too. You have to pass the time up there somehow. You know how it goes.

And finally, the day comes that he has to take the cattle back down the mountain. Soon it will be too cold, and the grazing too poor to stay. He doesn’t want to leave her behind, and she doesn’t want him to go. And she could just turn him into a stag and keep him there forever, but she would never do that to him. She truly cares for him. So she agrees to leave her mountain home and go back with him.

So he dresses her in his cloak, because she’s been naked this whole time and that, uh, doesn’t fly. And they descend to the village. He went up alone with a skinny, sickly herd, and came back with fat cattle and the most beautiful girl anyone has ever seen.

He lies and says he found her as a stranded traveler. Some people probably have their suspicions, but if they have suspicions of her nature, they, y’know, also know better than to cross her.

The herder and the wildwoman marry, and she realizes that she is pregnant soon after. It’s probably scary for both of them, but, uh. They’re both very happy. For a while.

But he’s a young man, so. When he is not out herding he has to protect the village livestock, and go out on raids. So he is often away from home. And she often finds herself alone. She does not fit in well with the villagers, right? Many of the men covet her, many of the women are jealous of her, and all are a little afraid of her. She’s very lonely, and misses her deer and her hills. At night, she sneaks out naked and roams the foothills, calling out to her herd, but they are too far away.

Months pass this way, and she is close to term. The herder desperately wants to be with her for the birth, but he is called away. They, uh-. The stories don’t usually elaborate why. He’s probably oathbound to protect his ruling clan’s khait, that sort of thing comes up a lot during the foaling season. You get- people always try to steal the foals as a, uh, political statement. It’s a whole thing.

Anyway, all he can think of is his wife and child, and he hurries back as soon as he can. His mother is waiting for him upon his return, and tells him that his wife gave birth in the night. Both new mother and child are safe and healthy, and the herder is now the father of a little boy.

He's sad to have missed it, but mostly just relieved that everything went alright. So he rushes to his home, all excited. But the house is empty. His wife and newborn are nowhere to be found, and the wildwoman’s clothes are shed in a pile beside the open door. There are prints leading away from the home, and he follows them as fast as he can. He’s running with all his might, you know, calling out for her, 'hey, come back'. He gets to the foothills, and looks up to the top of a great ridge. The doe is standing there next to a newborn fawn, all shaky on its little legs. He begs her not to leave, but she turns and runs away. By the time he gets up the ridge, both mother and child are long gone.

The herder has nothing else to do but go back to his old life. He is heartbroken. He did not realize she was so unhappy in the village, he was such a fool. He should have known better.

And he also should have long since been wed at his age, and is now, uh, kind of maybe divorced? His mother hates to see him sad, so she finds him many fine matches, all lovely young women. But he refuses them all. Probably causes all sorts of drama, it’s- uh. That sort of thing gets ugly.

So, after a while of this, the herder's friends and family pity him. They’re annoyed with him, really. They’ve figured it all out by now, and they just think he’s insane. He should feel lucky that he came away from a tryst with a wildwoman unharmed, right? It was never going to work. He should just move on. But he can’t. He doesn't want anyone else. He wants her, and he wants his son. He is so depressed that he falls ill, and can’t go up to pasture that summer. Everyone is just all, 'gods above this guy is so fucking useless', haha.

Um. It’s funny.

The next year, the herder is still depressed, but he's put himself together, a little. So he is back up in the mountain pasture again that summer. Days go by, but there is no sign of the deer herd, much less of his wife or child. He has never felt more alone.

Then, on the night of the new moon, he is awoken by the sound of hooves on rock. He cannot believe his eyes. The doe is back, and with her a strong young buck, just beginning to grow his first antler. The herder is overjoyed, he runs up to greet them. Both doe and buck change shape, and before him stands the wildwoman and a young boy. His bride is older now, so she has started to grow her beard and is much less beautiful. But he doesn’t care. He embraces her, and holds his little son for the very first time.

Uh, the herder can barely speak. He’s sobbing, he’s a mess. The wildwoman tells him she regrets leaving like that, and she's missed him too. But she needs the hills, she needs her herd. She can never be happy in his world.

They come to an agreement that night. They will have to spend most of their life apart, there’s no way around it. But they will meet again every summer, up in the mountain pastures. And their son is both human and wildfolk, so, maybe he can be happy in both worlds? They agree to hand him off year after year. The child will spend half of his life in the village with the humans and his father, and half of his life in the hills with the deer and his mother.

So, the family spends that summer together, and when the time comes to part, the herder returns to the village with his son. The child is rather eccentric. He's only a toddler, but can already run like a deer. He takes a long time to learn to speak. And he hates clothes. His father eventually gets him to stay dressed, but the kid never wears any shoes. His little feet are strong. Like, uh. Hooves.

Anyway, yeah, the herder misses his wife every day, and dreads each year that he will be apart from his son. But he can live with it. He knows he will see them both again.

And that’s how he spends the rest of his days. His son stays with his human father one year, and with his wildwoman mother the next, and all three meet together during the summer. It’s not a normal life for a herdsman by any means. He has no wife in the village to run his home and manage his livestock, and his son is often away, and-. Usually there’s a bit here where the kid grows up and has babies with, um, normal deer. So the herder doesn’t exactly have grandchildren either.

So, yeah. He lives a strange life, and he leaves no heirs behind, but he would not be happy any other way. Uh. That’s it.”

[xoluvx]

forever; b.eilish

for the past three days you'd woken with a tight feeling in your chest. it was so strong it was impossible to sleep through the night. each night you groaned, reached for your phone, and checked the time. it was always the same. 3am. it was like clockwork now. sleep. wake. repeat. sleep. wake. repeat.

when you finally brought it up to your friends, one had murmured something about the witching hour. it was no coincidence it was the month of october, another had added. not one to believe in the supernatural, you'd just accounted it to a fucked up sleep schedule and stress. it was science at its purest form. it couldn't have possibly been a force, unbeknownst to you, pulling you out of your slumber every night. that was simply impossible.

that is until you started noticing the shadow creeping through your window. it was far away at first. each night getting closer and closer until it was no longer a shadow. It was all in your head. it was just your brain playing tricks on you. it was your friends' stupid words and their need to find a reason for every little thing that happened in your life. whatever this was.. it was something you couldn't explain. you just felt it. you felt it in your bones and chest and neck and every small crevice of your body.

one night. that fateful night. the figure stood right next to your bed. it was so close you could reach out and touch it.. so you did. you reached your arm out. the tip of your index finger brushed down the side of her arm. she was unreasonably cold. she stood there watching the way your chest moved as your breathing grew ragged and your eyes filled with curiosity. not at all frightened.

who was she? why was she here? was she the reason you'd woken up at the exact same time for the past two weeks now. your sleep schedule was completely fucked. feeling a heaviness in your eyes, you dropped your hand and your questions and curiosities and turned your head to the side closing your eyes slowly drifting to sleep.

the sleep you got that night was the best you'd gotten in the past few day. you didn't know she was the reason why. that she was the one who was keeping away the negative thoughts, the bad spirits that had indeed woken you up at 3am like clockwork. she kept those feelings at bay as she sat next to you in bed. as she looked at you with her tantalizing blue eyes. as her hand gently caressed your cheek until you were stirring awake stretching unaware of the figure sitting on your bed.

you just felt a peacefulness in your heart. not like those first few days when you were waking up constantly. no, you felt calm. when your eyelids fluttered opened, you looked at the figure hovering over your body and upon seeing her face everything made sense.

little did you know that you were the key to her lock. the missing piece of her puzzle. she'd seen you cross the street one beautiful autumn morning and all her stars aligned. it was you. you were the one made for her. the one she'd been searching for her entire life. the one that everyone said would one day appear in her life and change everything. what she hadn't expected was for you to be human. you were human and she was a vampire.

it wasn't uncommon for vampires to imprint on a human.. this just complicated things because how was she suppose to explain to you that you were the one she was meant to spend the rest of eternity with? no follow-up explanation or conversation. how was she suppose to make this okay? how could she deprive you of a long happy, normal life? she constantly wondered each night she spent in your room holding your hand and your body like you were the most fragile being.. because in her eyes you were.

she was so careful not to use her full strength even when you begged for it. even when you got on your knees on the mattress and pulled on her jacket whispering the filthiest things on her tongue before letting her take control. always restricting herself. careful. oh so careful.

you wanted every ounce of her just like she craved every ounce of your sweet blood. you were intoxicating. when she fucked you so tenderly in the middle of the night she'd get lost in your scent. her nose pressed to your neck, lips messy on your skin. she needed you. she wanted you. she couldn't live without you.

'turn me.' you muttered as your bodies moved in sync. as you breathed heavily. as you practically moaned the words. she simply froze. she couldn't possibly. she'd never accept your offers or listen to your pleas.

'please' you begged as she cradled the back of your head. lips parting. mouth wrapping around your neck. her fangs sharp. she was hardly touching you. hardly breaking skin and you were holding her tight. you were wrapping your hands tight around her arms. you wanted her just as bad if not more. you knew she'd live forever, your life was just temporary. you wanted forever and you wanted forever with her.

diaween 2024 💜