#Venus Satanas

[goetic-ascensionism]

Satanic Blessing

Satan, bless my home, bring peace and safety to my house and my family Satan, bless my loved ones with happiness and keep them from harm Satan, bless my life with success and fulfillment, help me to seek my purpose

Lucifer, bless my spirit with the knowledge of your love Lucifer, bless my mind so that I may see truth in all that I seek Lucifer, bless my intellect and knowing so that I may know illumination

Belial, bless my will to enable me to succeed Belial, bless my situations so that the path may be open and clear Belial, bless my inner strength so that I may have direction

Lilith, bless my creations so that they may grow strong Lilith, bless my intuition and knowing so that I may be sure Lilith, bless my heart so that it may be open to self-love So it is done!

Spiritual Satanist Prayer Book by Venus Satanas

[aleisternacht]

Premier January 1, 2025 11:00am EST

Venus Satanas discovered Satanism in 1992. She started writing about Satanism in 2004, and by 2007 she had a series of educational videos about Satanism on YouTube. She is an Independent Satanist, witch, artist, and author of the Spiritual Satanist Prayer Book. She is considered an occult pioneer by those on the Left Hand Path.

[queersatanic]

We fuckin' won, y'all

It hasn't fully sunk in yet, but we did just get some truly joyful news.

The Satanic Temple lost AGAIN, and ours is a full victory here

The King County Superior Court just granted our motion for summary judgment in full, dismissing all claims with prejudice and ruling on our declaratory judgment counterclaim we have the right to use "the Memes Page".

facebook.com/queersatanic

It has been 1635 DAYS since The Satanic Temple filed their case against us in federal district court. We got it dismissed there once in February 2021; we got it dismissed again in January 2023 after TST re-filed.

The Satanic Temple appealed the second loss to the Ninth Circuit and also re-filed part of the case in state court in April 2023 — notably after the three-year statute of limitations had run out.

The Ninth Circuit affirmed most of the lower federal court decision but allowed TST to revive their defamation claims if they could specify what exactly had been said about them that was false and defamatory.

Apparently unable to do so, The Satanic Temple voluntarily dismissed the federal case against us.

Meanwhile, in 2022, TST sued Newsweek for writing about our case back in October 2021. The Satanic Temple dragged us into those proceedings to give depositions, but Newsweek seems to be prevailing with just one claim remaining and a bunch of embarrassing stuff coming out about TST.

TST sued a woman in Texas for making TikTok videos critical of them, after first forcing her to record a pretty upsetting retraction. This is despite the fact that she was right.

TST has threatened more people than we can make a reliable count of with litigation both before and after us.

The Satanic Temple's agents have stalked and harassed us and our loved ones, and there have been long periods of misery and where it seemed like the courts would let them keep doing this sort of thing indefinitely.

But today we won.

The Satanic Temple has lost every step of the way and shown themselves to be a toxic, abusive religious organization to everyone who has bothered to pay attention — tho unfortunately, too few people have.

Thank you all for your support over these long 4+ years.

Based on their pattern of behavior, The Satanic Temple is likely to appeal this loss or perhaps invent a new pretext to continue this SLAPP in a new venue. We know that.

The Satanic Temple, its owners, and lawyers have had had no argument justifying the last 1635 days beyond their wealth and desire to hurt and intimidate people. But TST also should have much bigger issues to deal with than lighting money on fire by continuing to come after us.

So, maybe The Satanic Temple will finally walk away now. They're definitely more vulnerable now than they have been in a long time.

Please let people know what The Satanic Temple is and how they behave, and also that however scary they seem, if you stand up to them you can win.

When it comes to The Satanic Temple, there's always more, and it's always worse, but they are at least as incompetent as they are malicious. They are ghouls, to be sure, but not ones who can survive any light on their actions.

So Ave Satanas, and Hail Lucifer the Lightbringer

[cultkinkcoven]

Here are some mantras and invocations Lucifer and I came up with together 🖤

I’ll probably add more as we create them

To Invoke Lucifer/Lucifuge in his Dark Initiator Form

“Eyan Tasa Princeps Tenebrarum Volocur Melainis Lucifuge Rofocale Eyan Kenón Esōterikon Volocur Skías Synergos”

Translation:

“I invoke insight to lift me up to the Prince of Darkness, To elevate me to the Black Lucifuge Rofocale. I invoke insight to lift me up to the Inner Void, to elevate me to the Shadow Companion.”

To Invoke the Spirits of Venus in its Fiery Warlike Form, To Vanquish Enemies

“In Nomine Dei Ignis Tasa Thymós Haima Ganic Tasa Fubin Flereous Uberaca Exousia Areia Ishtari Luciferi Ganic Tasa Theua Dynamis Androphonor Satanas Imperator Umbrae Et Ignis Dominus Ignis Ascends Anā Ptō Tēn Orgēn Volocur Nikē Epi Tōn Echthrōn In Nomine Dei Attar Lucifer Fiat Voluntas Mea”

Translation:

“By the sacred name of the Gods of Fire, I consecrate my heart’s passion and Blood of Rage. I summon the fire or Flereous and I invoke the supreme authority of War in the holy Morning Star, Ishtar. I call upon the Divine Force, The Vanquisher of enemies, The Mighty Emperor of Darkness and Flame. O, Lord of the Ascending Flame, ignite my wrath, grant me victory over my foes. By the holy name of Attar Lucifer, divine spark within, I seal my will. Let it be done.”

To invoke Lucifer in his Heavenly Morning Star Form

“Agios Es Eosphoros Ourania Luxuriant Lucifer Yios Ēōs Astēr Anate Ilōn Phaneros Divum Et Vorsipelle O Astēr Killilampros Vitalis Energiam Tribue Temenos Mea Voluntas Impleta”

Translation:

“Holy Eosphoros, celestial and resplendent light, Luxuriant Lucifer, Son of Dawn, Rinsing Star, Manifest your presence. Fill this sacred space with your healing energy. My will is done.”

🔱

[evereverest2]

Beer Bottle — Terzomega drabble

1.1k words

Terzo shows up only two hours before a ritual, asking Omega for help.

this is FLUFF, no smut. just a comfort piece between two lovers bc starting up school again has been stressful<3 now ik this damn website demands smut, so in exchange for that appeal, i offer you my art. (more images under the cut)

—

“What did you get yourself into?”

Terzo shifted, wrapping his unbuttoned shirt that was falling around his shoulders tighter around his arms. He reached up and played with his grucifix, fiddling at the black cross with his fingers.

“I said no questions,” Terzo responded, flicking his eyes away from Omega’s intense stare. He pressed the grucifix against his lips, nibbling on it subconsciously.

Omega took a step back. He just had healed a cut on Terzo’s shoulder, turning it from a nasty gash to nothing but a faint scar, one that would certainly disappear within the week. Omega frowned, studying his face. “You’ll have to redo your paint soon.”

��Can you do it? It is faster when it is someone else.”

“I can’t do it, I’m not your makeup artist.”

“Oh, how hard is it, eh?” Terzo said, frustrated. “It is just a fucking skull!”

Omega crossed his arms, ignoring the outburst. “Tell me what happened last night.”

Terzo sighed. He was sitting on a bathroom counter at the back of a concert venue, only two hours before they were set to perform. He had approached Omega—careful to sneak past the crew and other ghouls—who immediately overreacted upon seeing him. All Terzo had wanted was for him to heal his wound, but Omega clearly had other ideas.

“Nothing.”

Omega, ever patient, put his hands on Terzo’s shoulders. “Why the hell did you come here looking like this?”

“Err… I overslept.”

Omega’s glare was intense, intimidating. Terzo shrunk under his imposing presence. Questioning, accusing.

“Tell me. Please, Terzo,” Omega said firmly. He cupped his face with his hand, gently brushing his cheek with his thumb.

Terzo could not hold it in anymore. His lips twisted down, parting slightly, a short cry slipping out of him. He covered his face, shoulders shaking, and began to weep.

“Oh— Fuck—“ Terzo sobbed. “No— Dammit, Omega…”

At once he was met with arms around him, with a gentle hand running through his hair, with tender coos and whispers, with back scratches.

“My tersoro.” Omega kissed his head. “It’s okay. Deep breaths, now.”

Terzo squeezed his eyes shut tightly, willing the tears to cease flowing. He took in one long breath after another. Focusing on inhaling, exhaling. The way his chest rose and made their embrace tighter, the way it collapsed and made them closer. Omega’s warmth was a great comfort after the night’s ordeal.

Terzo pulled away, turning to the mirror behind him.

“Satanas, now I really need to fix my face,” he half laughed, half sobbed, sucking in a quick breath.

Omega grabbed his chin and coaxed him into facing him. “Don’t worry about that; Talk to me.”

Terzo looked away shamefully. “I may have partied a little too hard.”

Omega tilted his head. “That’s not it.”

Terzo held out his hands, exasperated. “That is why I am hungover.”

“You were in a fight.”

“Yes, with the beer bottle of a bastard who could not take a joke,” Terzo scoffed, rubbing his shoulder.

“What?”

Terzo could practically see the flames in Omega’s eyes.

“Oh, come on, Omega, I made it out alive, did I not?”

“Why didn’t you take me with you?”

“You would have stood over my shoulder all night.”

Omega growled lowly. “Then no one would’ve hurt you.”

“Exactly!” Terzo furiously wiped his eyes. “You make sure I behave, keep me out of fights, and make me ready for the Ritual today.”

Omega searched his eyes, darting back and forth, confused. Terzo turned away.

“You… You wanted to get in a fight?”

“No.” Terzo’s voice cracked. “I mean— fuck, I do not know, Omega. I wanted to have fun.”

“You wanted to hurt.”

Another tear slipped from his eye. “Is that so surprising?”

“Terzo,” Omega said gravely. “What’s wrong?”

Terzo broke again, hunching his shoulders as a stream of whispered sobs escaped him. “It is so much.”

“What is?”

Terzo shook his head. “I cannot handle this.”

“Terzo—“

“I wanted to do good things for the Ministry,” Terzo’s lips pressed together as he suppressed a sob. He took a shuddering breath. “I wanted to spread our message farther than anyone before me. But I do not get power, stella. I get to put on a costume and dance like a puppet.”

“Oh, tersoro…” Omega took him in his arms again.

“But still, I must do so much…” Terzo’s voice quivered. “I cannot change anything, but I must perform. It is a cruel life.”

“So you go out to get yourself fucked up?”

Terzo sniffed, wailed. “I do not know, Omega! I have no control over my life!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” Omega soothed, scratching his scalp. “Just let it out.”

They were still for a long while as Terzo wept. Nothing but the harsh sound of his cries and the dull hum of the venue slowly filling up.

Then, a knock at the bathroom door. Terzo flinched, startled, staring at Omega in fear.

“It’s okay, it’s just Alpha,” Omega reassured him, crossing the room to the door. He only opened it a few inches, taking a bag from Alpha. Terzo heard vague murmurs exchanged between them, but in the echoing bathroom, he could not quite make out their words.

“Thanks.”

Omega shut and locked the door again, returning to Terzo. He set the bag next to him on the counter and took out a cloth, wetting it in the sink.

“I’m gonna clean your face,” Omega said. Terzo shut his eyes and nodded.

The soft cloth pressed against his face, warm water gracing his cheek. Omega gingerly dabbed at his makeup, revealing the man beneath. Exhausted. Puffy. Eyes red.

“I love you, Terzo,” Omega said, leaning in to kiss him. When he pulled away, he moved the cloth to wipe away his lips.

“I love you too, stella.”

“I don’t want you to keep doing this. Come to me when you’re hurting, okay?”

Terzo sighed. “It is not so easy.”

“Then don’t leave my side.” Omega gave him a chaste kiss. “I know it feels like the world is crushing you. You know how to help that?”

“How?”

“You get somebody to hold the world with you.”

Terzo smiled. “And I suppose you volunteer?”

Omega chuckled. “Of course I do. You aren’t alone.”

This time, Terzo leaned in for the kiss, wrapping his arms around Omega tightly. “Ti amo,” he whispered between kisses. “Ti amo, stella.”

Omega cradled his face in his hands.

“You’re handsome without your makeup,” he grinned.

“That is enough of that,” Terzo shook his head, unable to stop himself from smiling. He looked in the bag Alpha had brought; it was a makeup bag.

“Will you be okay to perform tonight?”

“With all this phlegm in my throat?” Terzo coughed for effect. “Yes, I will be okay. But I expect your company after the show.”

“Anything for my Papa.”

buy me a kofi <3

[the-unholy-sovereign]

[{]¤| Hail Satan |¤[}] 💀Shivah "Shiva"

I, Shivah (Shiva) "Resurrection/Reincarnation" Burn-Forever and Suffer; Na'heem, Salah "S A L A H" (SHA-lah).

Regeas um Regea UNUM Satanas "Satan" I.Reincarnation.

(Aura-lights/Prism) "Retrograde" Planetary alignment with Mercenary, Venus, Jupiter and it's moon. Orbital-View; Earth "Aura/Aurora" Light.

♾NUBIAN CREED: SATANIST: THE DARK GOD OF VOODOO. . . .

[iamthecomet]

Comet just LOOK at this tiny guy

Wouldn't it be such a shame if someone tossed him over their shoulder, dragged him backstage, bent him over something just a little too tall and railed him while Dew kicked his little feet? I think that would be just AWFUL.

Oh NO. That would be TERRIBLE. HORRIBLE, even.

Dew is barely out of view of the stage when he's being hauled off his feet. The world turns the wrong direction and suddenly he's slung over a narrow shoulder, looking at the floor and the curve of an ass that can only belong to-- "What the fuck, Rain?" Rain holds his calves tight and doesn't answer. His fingers dimpling into his boot hard enough that Dew can feel the pressure through the leather. "Rain come on--" Rain slaps him, hard, on the ass. Nailing the plug Rain worked into him before the show dead center. Pushing it deeper, grinding it against his prostate in a way that makes Dew's brain feel like it's been lit on fire. He yelps. The sound echoes through the venue hallway. He blames the heat flooding through his face on the fact that he's being held upside down. It has nothing to do with being thrown over Rain's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Rain doesn't manhandle him that often. Certainly not like this--not to carry him down long venue hallways in full view of staff and roadies. It's a rarity, and Dew will be damned if he admits how much he likes it. Being thrown around by Swiss or Aether is one thing. But Rain? Something about being flung over this boney shoulder in particular makes Dew feel insane. Rain shoves into one of the dressing rooms and kicks the door closed. He turns and tosses Dew over one of their equipment crates in the corner of the room. One of the ones they use to store costume pieces.

The edge of it bites hard into Dew's thighs as Rain lets him go. "Satanas, Rainy. Go easy."

"Turn over."

"You want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing or--"

Rain grabs him. Dew doesn't get a chance to resist. He's forced onto his stomach. Bent at the waist over the equipment box. Mask bouncing off of it from the force. He realizes, one second too late, that his feet don't touch the ground. He can graze the threadbare carpet with his toes, but that's all he's got. No leverage. No motion, no nothing. Rain presses tight against him. Pinning Dew’s thighs apart with his own.

"Been thinking about this," Rain whispers, reaching around to undo the button on Dew's pants. He forgoes the zipper. Gathering the waistband of both the pants and Dew's briefs and yanking them down in sharp motion.

Dew shifts, leans to the side, tries to get leverage with at least one of his feet--but it's fruitless. He’s stuck. He tries to ignore the way his cock kicks at the realization.

"Been thinking about you, clenching around this all night." Rain pushes on the base of the plug and all thoughts of wiggling free are dragged from Dew's mind. He digs his fingers into the edge of the case and hopes Papa won't notice a few scratch marks. “I bet it was distracting.” Dew thinks about the fumbled note during one of his solo’s. About how he almost missed his mark at the beginning of Year Zero. “Very,” he gasps, as Rain pulls it almost all the way out and then pushes it back in. Rain fucks the plug in and out of Dew a few times. The sound of lube, and Dew’s slick filling the room. Dew reaches up. Trying to fumble with the laces on his mask so he can get it off. His vision is so narrowed by it--he wants sight. Something to ground him. He feels control rapidly slipping through his fingers. And even though his cock seems to love it—it’s taking a second for a his mind to get on board. Rain stops him, grabbing both of Dew's wrists in one hand and pinning them tight to the small of his back. "Rainy, come on. I can't see." "What do you need to see for?" Rain asks, incredulous. Dew thumps his forehead against the crate and gives in.   Rain pulls the plug out with his free hand. Dew hears it thud to the ground. He thinks about telling Rain that Cirrus wouldn't like him treating her toys like that, but then the rasp of Rain's zipper fills the room. And Rain presses the blunt head of his cock against Dew's slick hole and Dew swallows his words. Digs his teeth into the inside of his cheek instead. Rain slides home with one brutal thrust. It rocks Dew up higher on the case, his toes now hopelessly out of reach of the floor. The head of his dick bumping against the metal edging on the crate. Despite the plug and the copious amount of slick, there’s still a stretch. A pleasant burn that drags up Dew’s spine and quiets the part of his brain that desperately seeks control.  

The pace Rain sets knocks the breath from Dew's lungs. There is nothing about this that is meant to be long-lasting or indulgent. Rain fucks him hard enough that Dew feels each thrust in his molars. That he can’t think about anything except the way it feels like Rain is trying to carve him apart—make a space inside Dew that belongs just to him. Rain's grip on Dew's wrists tightens to near bruising. And all Dew can do is whine, and keen, and beg. He presses downward with his toes, still looking for leverage so he can contribute. So he can grind back against Rain and turn the tables. His boot scrapes against the carpet, it’s nowhere near enough.   Rain hauls Dew up a little higher on the crate and it changes the angle from all consuming to devastating. Dew tries to find something to bite down on to muffle the noises he's making, but all he has is his drool soaked balaclava. Dew's babbling incoherently. He’s aware of sounds and words being forced from his lips but not what he’s saying. Mostly, he thinks, it’s Rain’s name, spoken over and over against the metal he’s pressed against. The head of his cock, flushed dark and dripping, bounces off of the edge of the crate with each thrust. Not enough to get him anywhere, but enough to send small spikes of pleasure racing down his spine. Enough to make him feel like he’s about to lose his fucking mind if Rain doesn’t touch him. "Rainy," he pants, "more. Need--fuck--touch me. Please--I need it." For a handful of horrible seconds Dew thinks Rain might ignore him, might cum in him and leave him like this. But eventually, Rain slips his hand beneath Dew, he curls his hand around the base of Dew's cock and squeezes. Dew sobs in relief as Rain begins to jack him off. There's little coordination in it--timed with Rain's faltering thrusts. But it doesn't matter. The brush of Rain's knuckles along the underside of the head combined with the unholy way Rain is nailing his prostate with each brutal thrust is enough. He's cumming before he's aware of it. Jerking in Rain's grasp. Wailing. Feet still scrabbling for purchase as he shudders and sobs with the sudden, perfect, relief of it all. He sags against the crate, boneless and gasping. Rain hauls him up while he's still twitching. Letting go of his wrists to lock one arm around his waist and curl the other around his throat. Forcing Dew into an arch that makes his spine ache. Pinning him to the crate with only his thighs and hips. Rain only lasts a handful more second before he's hunching over Dew and swearing. Cock kicking deep inside of Dew as he empties himself into Dew's still shuddering body. When he pulls out, Dew crumbles. He slides to the floor without Rain's bulk to hold him up. Landing on his knees next to the discarded plug.  He catches his breath, then pushes himself up onto shaking legs and pulls his pants back up. He winces at the mess between his legs, and tries not to look at the cum splattered across the side of the crate. He gives it a cursory wipe with his sleeve, but that only smears it around, makes more of a mess that he’s too exhausted to clean up. "What the fuck was that for?" Dew asks, body still shaking. Rain looks over at him, expression impossible to read through his mask. He shrugs, zipping up his pants, nonchalant as ever. “Whatever.” Dew pushes past him as he heads toward the door and the waiting bus. "We're doing it again."

[janeway-lover]

a suspiciously shiny star shaped necklace drops through the catflap.

inscribed, is this; qui stellas gerit satanas est.

the words gleam in the sunlight.

(venus will shine bright, tonight)

*She picks up the necklace carefully, reading the inscription. It feels magical, but also...familiar. She puts it on, the star becoming nestled amongst the rings she wears around her neck.*

*As she puts it on, for just a moment, her eyes flash red. But then...she's normal.*

Oh, this is...this is new. Okay.

[miasmaghoul]

Mushy May - Day 4

Prompt: First Kiss

Rating: Teen Pairing: Aether/Rain Contains: hurt/comfort, anxiety, a panic attack, first-time glamouring, Rain having a Bad Time and Aether making it better Word Count: ~3k (lmao what am I doing)

Summary: Rain feels like he's drowning. Aether helps him surface.

“It’s a lot to get used to,” Dew had told him a week ago, holding out a pile of black fabric, “you gotta practice while you can.”

He’d offered to help. To teach Rain how to breathe properly with his gills glamoured, how to cope with the added restriction of their stage costumes. Rain, prideful thing that he is, had refused. Of course he had. Had shrugged off Dew’s words and waved away the offer of help. He was certain he could manage on his own - he hardly planned on using his full glamour anyway, so what was the point in practicing? Besides, if Dew could do it then so could he. Dewdrop had given him a withering look, followed by a scoff.

“Whatever, wet boy. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Rain had dismissed him with an exaggerated eye roll, returning to the very important task of filing his claws, and had promptly forgotten about the whole affair.

Until now. 

Because now, huddled in a damp corner of their venue’s shower room, Rain finds himself thinking the unthinkable: 

I should have listened to Dewdrop.

Everything feels too close, too tight. This form, this woefully human shape he’s been forced to take, brings with it an unexpected, crushing pressure. The uniform doesn’t help - it’s all skin tight, the fabric scratching at every inch of him. He feels flayed open, pink and raw; it’s visceral and wholly unsettling, but the vanishing of his gills is far and away the worst part. 

Rain paws at his own chest, tugging the knot of his tie in an effort to relieve some of the pressure. His mask and balaclava sit across the room, tossed away the moment he’d managed to get his shaky fingers to cooperate. It’s only been a few minutes since he stumbled his way in here, drawn by the presence of water and the oddly comforting scent of mildew, but Rain feels like he’s been suffering for years.

He can’t stop trembling, clutching his knees to his chest and fighting the razors in his throat. Clawing with his stupid, blunt, human nails at the places his gills should be - the sides of his neck, the ridges of his ribs. Trying to force them open again through his shirt, to rip away the binding magic trapping him in this sorry state. Gasping. Choking. Suffocating.

Satanas, he’s fucking drowning.

He’s drowning and it’s his own damn fault.

It shouldn’t be this bad. Nothing should be this bad. But from the moment Copia had said that incantation, had bound all of the ghouls to these horribly restrictive forms for the night, Rain hasn’t been able to catch his breath. Dew’s words swim though his head in a vague whisper of regret, one that Rain tries in vain to shake off. It only makes him dizzier.

There’s a call from somewhere outside the attached dressing room - twenty minutes til soundcheck - and it does nothing to help the tightness in Rain’s chest. His lungs ache, his throat burns, and his heart feels like it’s about to crash right through his ribcage. The edges of his vision are darkening already, and he can’t tell if it’s from the hot tears gathered in his lashes or a lack of air. Maybe both.

He’s going to die here. He knows he is. Tucked into a tight ball in some dingy shower, alone and terrified, on the night of his first ritual. The others will find nothing but a pile of damp clothes and the stink of sulfur, their water ghoul having discorporated and vanished back to the Pit. There’s no way around it. 

Rain hugs his knees and whimpers, feeling the knife between his ribs dig in deeper. He’s panting now - shallow, desperate hiccups of air. They’re all he can manage as the walls close in on him. The crushing weight of his own foolishness slams against his skull - he swears he can hear it, a hollow echo. Like distant footsteps on cold stone. Rain’s eyes slip shut, the tears begin to fall, and all he can do is wait for his lungs to give out.

“Rain?”

He jolts at the voice - a distant, low rumble that he doesn’t recognize. Do ghouls have a grim reaper? A being sent to collect their infernal essence and return it home? Is that who’s calling his name? Rain doesn’t know, and he doesn’t answer. He can’t. His voice went with his ability to breathe.

“Rain, where are you?”

It’s like he’s underwater. The voice is so foreign, lilting and accented in a way he can’t place. But it’s…soothing, somehow. Familiar, like a comfortable piece of clothing. He wants to lift his head but finds it immovable. Filled with cement. Those echoing footsteps in his head grow louder with each passing moment, and as his consciousness fades Rain swears he feels himself being lifted.

The next thing he feels is…warmth. It’s so warm. He’s so warm.

“Rain?” A warbling echo at the edge of his mind. “Can you hear me?”

There’s a weight on his chest, but it’s…different than it was before he felt the world slip away. Steady pressure, gentle, running the length of his sternum. It’s wonderfully grounding, puts him so at ease that he nearly forgets why he was so -

Rain’s eyes fly open and he sucks in air like a man starved, great gulps of the stuff that make his throat ache all over again. He thrashes, arches against the pressure on his chest and finds it doesn’t give. Rather, it holds him steady, keeps him pinned to - is he on a couch?

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” It’s that voice again, the one he somehow both did and didn’t know. “You’re okay Rain, I’ve got you.”

Whoever it is, he finds it easy to believe them. Rain blinks as he catches his breath, clears the wet haze from his eyes. He doesn’t know what he expects to see, but it certainly isn’t a water-stained ceiling. At length he manages to turn his still-heavy head to the side. When he does, he’s met with a silver mask...and a pair of familiar lavender eyes. 

“Ae…Aether?” The name comes out raspy and worn, like Rain had been screaming. The other ghoul nods, and Rain realizes that the pressure on his chest is Aether’s hand. His shirt is unbuttoned, and that large, callused palm feels heavenly against his clammy skin. “What…how…”

“The Cardinal sent me to get you for soundcheck,” he explains, eyes scanning Rain’s face. The accent is fascinating, but now that Rain knows who he’s hearing he can pick out the familiar timbre of Aether’s usual voice. “Found you in the bathroom, pale as anything.”

“Couldn’t breathe,” Rain manages after a few moments, clearing his throat with a wince. “Couldn’t…without my gills, I -”

“I figured as much,” Aether murmurs. Rain gives the other ghoul a quizzical look, and Aether cracks the tiniest smile. “This happened to Dew too, the first time. Didn’t he tell you?” Rain stares at him, wide-eyed.

“What did?”

“The panic,” Aether says gently. “You had a panic attack, Rain.”

Rain blinks at him. 

A…a panic attack? No, that wasn’t right. That couldn’t be right.

“No,” he murmurs, brow furrowed. “No it - it was the binding spell. It…it took my gills and I-”

“It did, yes,” Aether confirms, canting his head. “But you’re breathing fine without them now, aren’t you?” 

Rain blinks again, finally taking full stock of himself. Of the rise and fall of his ribcage and the now-steady thud of his heart, and finds that he can’t argue. His chest still aches, but it feels more like muscle strain and less like breathlessness. It feels like the almost pleasant burn that follows his lengthy swims in the abbey’s lake, or one of his more energetic romps with Swiss. Rain brings a hand to his throat, just to be sure, and Aether laughs through his nose.

“See?” Aether pats his chest, a reassuring gesture. “Just fine without them.”

Silence blankets them, and it gives Rain time to think. He hasn’t spent a whole lot of time with the ghoul before him in the months since his summoning. Not for lack of wanting - he likes Aether, (very much, if he were to be honest), but with the hectic nature of pre-tour life there hadn’t been much of a chance to…connect. A few shared meals, a handful of fleeting touches in the common room - ones he revisited in the comfort of his own bed - and one very close call on the tour bus were all Rain had to show for his interest.  

So yes, he does like Aether. More importantly, though, he trusts Aether. The other ghoul had earned it with his calm demeanor, the way he carries himself, the way he treats others. They all rely on him, even the Cardinal. That’s probably why he’d been sent to fetch Rain in the first place - Copia knew he would actually do it, not just sneak off in an effort to shirk their duties. If it were any other ghoul, Rain would simply wave off the idea of what he’d just experienced being something as paltry, as…human, as a panic attack.  

But it isn’t another ghoul. It’s Aether. Aether, with his kind eyes and soft smile. Aether, with his broad body and gentle nature. Aether, who is currently rubbing slow circles into his warming skin. Rain realizes in a delayed sort of way that the ghoul’s other hand is in his hair, scratching lightly at the place where his horns should be. He wants to purr with it, but it comes out as a deep hum instead. Aether chuckles.

“I’ll take that as a sign that you’re feeling better,” he murmurs, and Rain can’t deny that he’s right. He rests a hand on top of the one on his chest and gives Aether a shy nod.

“Yeah,” he huffs, voice still strained, “some.”

“Good. Do you think you can sit up?” 

Rain isn’t sure he wants to. Aether’s hands feel so nice, his presence so calming, and Rain doesn’t want to lose either one. Voices in the hall bring him back a bit, though; right, he has a job to do here. He heaves out a harsh exhale and nods, giving Aether’s hand a squeeze. The other ghoul sits back on his heels and Rain sighs at the loss of his touch. He braces himself and forces his body upright, grunting with the effort of swinging his legs over the edge of the couch.

The pain hits him all at once. 

“Oh, my fucking head,” he groans, hunching and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Shit.”

“Headache? Dew had a nasty one too.” Those large hands grip his wrists and give a coaxing tug. “You’re only going to make it worse doing that,” Aether chides. “Here, let me help.”

Rain isn’t sure how he can, given the fact that he’s pretty sure there’s an ice pick lodged in his brain, but he obliges. Allows Aether to bring his hands down and rest them on his own thighs. The other ghoul nudges his shoulder and Rain reluctantly raises his head, finding Aether knelt between his splayed legs. The sight sends a swoop of something entirely inappropriate through his belly, and Rain tries his best to ignore it. It’s hard to do when Aether cups his face with both hands, rough thumbs dragging over his cheekbones. The other ghoul gives him a smile and Rain swallows hard.

“Try to relax, alright? This might feel a bit…odd.”

Rain blinks owlishly, opens his mouth to speak, but the words die on his tongue as a wave of hot pressure fills his sinuses. It travels up behind his eyes, fills his ears and skull, wraps around his brainstem and trickles down his spinal cord. It only lasts a few seconds, and as the sensation fades Rain finds every bit of pain and lingering discomfort fading right along with it. He feels lighter than air, dizzy in a way that plasters a dazed look on his face. 

“There we are,” Aether coos, pulling his hands back. “How’s that? Better?”

“What was that?” Rain hardly recognizes the syrupy sound of his own slurred voice. Aether lets out a soft snort, resting his palms on Rain’s bony knees.

“Just a little something to take the edge off,” he says with a wiggle of his fingers. Rain finds himself entranced by the way Aether’s rings glint in the low light of the room. “I can’t do much beyond pain relief in this sorry state,” Aether gestures at his own glamoured body, “but that should at least be enough to get you through the ritual.”

Rain offers a slow nod, but he isn’t really focused on the words. His - well, everything, really, has gone fuzzy. Pleasantly warm and tingly, like he’d been wrapped in an electric blanket. He feels…safe, he thinks is the word for it. Anchored in a way he certainly wasn’t before Aether had rescued him from his breathless spiral. That seems like a distant memory now, a blip on the radar. All he can feel is a delightful buzz in the back of his head and the grounding weight of Aether’s hands on his knees.

“Rain? Are you still with me?” The ghoul blinks, refocusing on the masked face before him. He nods again, gaze bouncing between those stunning lavender eyes and plush lips. 

Those lips…

“Yeah,” he breathes, gripping his own thighs, “yeah, I…I’m…” 

He probably shouldn’t be staring at that unbearably pretty mouth. Shouldn’t be imagining how Aether’s chapped lips would feel on his. What he should do is say thank you. Tell Aether how appreciative he is of his help, of his care. He should say it and offer a handshake, or maybe a hug. Something small, but still affectionate. Something he won’t regret once the fuzziness in his brain fades. 

He doesn’t mean to lean in. Not really. He shouldn’t, no matter how much he wants to. No matter how much he’s wanted to for the past few months. 

But, well, he is leaning in. He’s leaning in and Aether isn’t pulling back. In fact, Rain’s pretty sure he’s tilting his head. Making space. Angling himself so his mask isn’t in the way and oh fuck he’s really going to do this.

When they kiss, Rain’s mind goes quiet.

It isn’t long. Isn’t deep or wet or messy. What it is, is wonderfully simple - a humble, chaste meeting of the lips. Short and sweet and somehow completely, utterly perfect. Rain pulls back just enough to let Aether see the enormous grin he can feel splitting his face, and to his delight the other ghoul returns it.

“I was wondering when we’d get around to that,” Aether says with amusement, squeezing Rain’s knees. Rain huffs out a laugh.

“Me too,” he admits, “maybe not quite like that, but I’m not going to complain.” 

“Neither am I.” Aether’s smile is devastating, wide and bright. “But as much as I’d like to carry on, I’m afraid we’ve got a job to do.”

Rain sighs, nodding - he’s held them all up long enough. He busies himself buttoning his shirt and tries not to mourn the loss of Aether’s hands when the other ghoul wanders over to one of the vanities on the far wall. He doesn’t have to mourn for long, though. Only for the time it takes for Aether to fetch his discarded tie, mask and balaclava. Rain eyes them with more than a little trepidation, his stomach giving a weak flip. His discomfort must be obvious - Aether lays a hand on his shoulder and holds him steady.

“It’s alright,” he promises, sitting at Rain’s side. “Let me help.”

Aether is so very gentle with him. So much so that it makes Rain blush. He talks through everything he does - knotting Rain’s tie, sliding on his balaclava, tucking back his hair. Aether checks in on him with every step, and Rain doesn’t think he has enough words for how grateful he feels. There’s still an edge of unease settling in his chest, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. 

Aether tells him about how things went with Dew the first time he’d had his gills glamoured. Tells Rain that he needs to have a talk with their newly minted fire ghoul about ways to cope so the panic doesn’t rear its ugly head again. Rain promises he will - his own pride isn’t worth the black hole in his chest.

“There we are,” Aether remarks with one final tuck of a particularly stubborn curl, “well done.” Rain could chirp at the praise, and at the way Aether’s hand lingers on his cheek. “Last step,” he adds after a moment, “and I think you should do this one.”

Aether holds up his mask, and Rain tries not to cringe at the very obvious scuff across its right cheek. From where he’d tossed it on the ground, he imagines. Hopefully it’ll buff out. He accepts the offering with a small nod and raises the mask to his face, stretching the straps to slip it over his head.

“Oh, hang on,” Aether says suddenly, and Rain looks over at him just in time to watch the other ghoul slide his own mask up with a thumb. “One more thing.”

Aether leans in and kisses him for real this time - lush and full, unyielding. Rain drops his mask in favor of grabbing hold of Aether’s square jaw, luxuriating in the feel of the other ghoul’s lips on his. It’s over far too soon, but the glimmer in Aether’s eye when he pulls away is full of promise. 

“For good luck,” he lilts, and Rain goes warm all over. Aether fixes his mask, Rain slips on his own, and together they stand. Aether gives Rain’s tie one final adjustment before nodding, giving his chest a pleased pat. “Now let’s get going before they send in the cavalry.” Rain nods, fiddling with the end of his tie.

“Thank you,” he says softly, the words long overdue. “For everything.” Aether hums and takes hold of Rain’s hand, thumbing over his knuckles.

“My pleasure,” he croons, and Rain would do anything to kiss him again. But for now, that will have to wait.

For now, the feel of Aether’s hand around his own is enough. 

[lostinvasileios]

Hello to all ⭒ Welcome to my bee-arc-hive. 💛

My name is Vasileios, but some nicknames of mine are: Vasil, Elios, Silo, & Vrincey.

I am a transgender male, I go by he/him &/or them/they, and I am on the AroAce spectrum/under its umbrella. I am also colored + neurodivergent.

I practice witchcraft and believe religiously in pantheism + polytheism. I work with ranging pantheons, including angelics and infernals.

My craft is a potion mixture of many things, and I mainly enjoy to simply go with whatever makes me feel the happiest and safest within. To put some sort of label on it, you could consider me eclectic, someone who works with chaos magic(k), and syncretic. I also can be considered an astrological witch!

I am closest to the deities: King Asmodeus, Prince Apollon, Mother Hekate, Highness Aphrodite/Aphroditos, Grand Duke Dionysus, King Yeshua, Lord Hypnos, King Loki, Noblewoman Psyche, Lord Eros, Lord Satanas, King Lucifer, Prince Archangel Micheal, Madame Pelé, and Rooster Hermes. With the honorable mentions of my spirit guide, Xinoth, and my higher self in all of their fluidity and infinite forms.

I occasionally work with archangels Uriel, Chamuel, and Jophiel. Gods of the planets Venus, Mars, Sun, and Moon. With some unnamed other entities.

Asks and messages are open for anyone as long as you are respectful, kind, and in general a more-so decent person. I am always looking forward to conversations about spirituality, crafts, or anything in between.

I do not condone any sort of discrimination, this is in no way a safe place for:

Anti-LGBTQIA+

Racist/Xenophobia

Proselytizing

Any sort of pedophilia

Religious discrimination

Ableism

I do not know every single thing down to its very detail, but I am more than happy to help any beginners, &/or indulge in conversations about (mostly) any spiritual/divine topics.

My blog is not fandom related. Deities, entities, spirituality and so on are major, realistic factors of my life.

Where I got my dividers: @saradika

This page is mainly for E-Offerings to my deities, sharing UPG, and hopefully to help someone in need.

[goetic-ascensionism]

"Prayer without action is empty, and it does not produce the same results as doing something about your situation instead. For instance, if you pray for money yet do nothing outside of prayer to obtain it, you are not helping your situation. Prayer might give you the courage, insight, or focus so that you can take action.

Don't use prayer as a crutch. Use it instead as part of your overall strategy. You should do everything you can to help yourself and use prayer as a guidance and as a way to seize upon opportunity. You can't expect to win if you don't play the game."

Spiritual Satanist Prayer Book by Venus Satanas

[lilypadlys]

Oopsie

Summary: After a ritual, the band heads to their hotel for the night, eager to get some sleep. One small problem though. They left Dewdrop behind at the venue.

Word Count: 1115

Rating: Teen (Dew has a filthy mouth)

Tags: SFW, Literally just a shit post.

AO3 Link

How none of the ghouls, roadies, or other tour crew noticed that Dewdrop was suspiciously absent, Copia will never know. Given that the trouble making spitfire was constantly underfoot, getting into something, or drawing attention to himself; someone really should have noticed sooner. He also doesn’t know how, as being the man basically responsible for corralling the ghouls, he missed it. All he knows for sure is that he’s determined to never let it happen again.

It happened one night after a ritual late in the tour. Copia tiredly hopped on the bus after the ghouls. Normally he rode on the other bus with the rest of the team; fellow ministry staff, roadies, instrument techs, stage crew, and the like. Tonight however, it was just easier to ride with the ghouls. It was only a twenty minute drive to the hotel and fatigue would keep their antics to a minimum.

Copia would be kicking himself later for not realizing the now obvious problem but, as it was, he was too exhausted to really pay attention. He just slumped in a seat near the front; far enough away from the noise of the ghouls chattering in the back, close enough to keep an eye on them, just in case. The ride being surprisingly quiet should have been a sign. Instead, Copia was just happy that the ghouls were behaving for once.

They arrived at the hotel on time. Traffic had been insanely backed up on the opposite side of the highway, but thankfully clear on their side. They parked, sleepily stumbled off the bus, and filed into the hotel lobby. It wasn’t until Copia began handing out room keys that anyone noticed that something was amiss. Or rather, someone was missing.

Copia glanced down at his spreadsheet detailing room assignments, and sighed. The purpose of the meticulous chart was to separate the trouble makers and pair them off with roommates who could hopefully keep them in check. He didn’t know why he even bothered though; the ghouls always swapped key cards anyway.

Still he used it to do headcounts and make sure everyone at least got a key. “Dewdrop and Mountain. He’s your keys.” Copia held out the corresponding keycards, still looking down at the chart. He was surprised when only one key was taken. He looked up.

“Ciao Mountain. Where’s Dew?”

Mountain just shrugged exhaustedly. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to find him.”

“Is he still on the bus?” Copia asked. Prayed really. “Did he fall asleep?”

Swiss trotted over, shaking his head. “Nope. I just ran out to grab my bag but I didn’t see him.”

Copia and Mountain both stared at Swiss with panicked expressions.

Swiss blanched. “I’ll call him.” He said, already pulling out his phone. He was just about to dial when a text came across the group chat.

“Where in the Hell are you guys?! I’ve been standing around backstage waiting for you for like 20 minutes!”

“Ah shit.” Swiss whimpered.

“Satanas.” Mountain grumbled.

“Cazzo!” Copia pinched the bridge of his nose. “Merda!” He waved at one of the ministry secretaries who happened to drive their own car. “Sibling! Can I borrow your car? And can you get the ghouls settled in? I have to go retrieve Dewdrop. He was left behind at the venue.”

The sibling went white in the face. “Of course Papa!” They yelped, scrambling for their keys and tossing them to Copia.

“Thank you Sibling. We’ll be right back.” Copia headed for the door. He looked back long enough to yell, “Behave yourselves!” to the rest of the ghouls, before stepping out into the parking lot. He only slowed slightly as Swiss and Mountain jogged over to catch up; Mountain’s face set in a stern expression, and Swiss on the phone with a very angry sounding Dew.

“What do you mean you left without me you mother fuckers?!”

“It was an accident Dewy!” Swiss attempted to soothe. “We're on our way and we’ll be right there.”

“Don’t Dewy me! Get your asses over here!”

The three piled into the small sedan, Copia driving, Mountain riding shotgun and Swiss in the backseat. They peeled out of the parking lot and back onto the highway; Copia breaking several traffic laws, not to mention ignoring the speed limit entirely.

“Wow. And you’re the one always going on about following the rules and driving safely.” Swiss joked, trying to lighten the mood. It’s greeted by dead silence from Copia and Mountain. “I’ll shut up.” Swiss mumbled.

Their pace was quickly slowed and then halted entirely as they encountered the traffic they had managed to avoid on their way to the hotel.

Mountain glanced at the GPS app on his phone and sighed. “ETA with traffic is another hour at least.”

“Who wants to tell him?” Swiss laughed nervously. More silence. “I guess I will.” He gulped.

“Heyyyyyy Dewy.” He texted.

“What.” Swiss could practically feel the fury contained in that single syllable.

“Soooo. We ran into some traffic and we’re gonna be a little bit delayed.”

“How long?”

“...”

“...?”

“An hour.”

Swiss silenced and then finally turned off his phone to escape the tirade of curse word laden replies from Dew.

“So how’s he taking it?” Mountain asked.

“Not well.”

Unfortunately for everyone involved, what should have been a half hour drive at the longest, ended up taking closer to two hours. A soaking drizzle had started up about halfway through the trip, making the road slippery and further delaying things.

Dew was not amused.

They found him standing in the parking lot of the venue. He was drenched from getting caught in the rain after security had booted him out. Apparently he’d misplaced his backstage pass. They didn’t believe him when he said he’d been left behind and they assumed he was just an over zealous fan looking for an autograph.

Even with his helmet still on, obscuring his scowl, his body language betrayed his ire. His shoulders tensed, fists clenched, and foot tapping in annoyance. As Copia pulled the car up, Dew stomped over and threw the back passenger door open. He sagged into the seat and settled in to glower out the window. Swiss scooched over to give him a wide berth.

Copia apologized sheepishly. “I’m so sorry Caro. It was an honest mistake. Did you not hear the call to get to the buses?”

“Am I not allowed to take a shit in peace?” Dew grumbled back.

“Ah…” Copia didn’t know what to say to that.

“Let's go. I want to get dried off and go to bed.”

“Sì. Let’s head back.” Copia pulled away from the curb.

It was a very quiet ride back to the hotel.

[unwelcome-ozian]

hi, it's the O9A anon again. thank you so much for your reply! i'm glad you're feeling more healthy. i had a question about the tree of wyrd - we have areas of the inner world named after planets like saturn and venus, which i think fits with the tree model? our system has female ritual parts that were trained to be rounwytha and they have a special forest in the inner world where they operate, controlling animal/epsilon parts. they often talk about a ritual in which 33 points are painted on the body, and they talk about a being called 'mikholeh'. do you know anything about what this ritual could mean/be for, and how i may be able to access the different areas named after planets? (i'm assuming there's a way to travel between them but i'm not sure how). thank you so much! sorry for the complicated questions, i understand if you can't answer them :)

we have areas of the inner world named after planets like saturn and venus, which i think fits with the tree model?

Yes, they are. The Tree of Wyrd has seven celestial bodies: the Moon, Venus, Mercury, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn.

Rounwytha Way: Is one of the three O9A praxises. It is also known as 'the rouning'. “The way of the Rounwytha is the way of the independent, strong, empath: of those who have developed their natural, their latent, their empathic and muliebral, abilities, qualities, and skills, both exoteric and esoteric [1].

Given the nature of these abilities, qualities, and skills, the overwhelming majority of individuals who follow the Way of the Rounwytha are women – who thus embody our sinister feminine archetype..”

“There are only three rites of this tradition: one celebratory [2], and two to train, to breed, the Rounwytha. The training is and was simple, and involves the candidate in living, for two whole alchemical seasons [3], alone in an isolated area, as per what is now known as the Rite of Internal Adept, followed – some unfixed causal Time later (sometimes a year later, sometimes longer) – by undertaking the Camlad Rite of The Abyss, and which Rite lasted for a whole lunar month [4]. another, in order to train candidates in certain necessary Martial skills, with this training lasting from six months to (more usually) a year. [5]” --Order of Nine Angles 123 yfayen

33 points are painted on the body, 

The number 33 is an occult/magick number and can have many meanings. Number 33 is a Master Number. The number 33 reflects the interface of the familiar world with the higher spiritual realm.

There are 33 vertebrae. The Kundalini goes up all 33 vertebrae of the spine and one achieves apotheosis.

It would depend on where on the body the points are painted.

and they talk about a being called 'mikholeh’. I’ve looked at the materials/information I have and am unable to find anything with the name ‘mikholeh’.  

However O9A says: What also has to be considered is that the ONA uses certain words in an esoteric way – with a specialized Occult meaning – so that words such as archetype and nexion and psyche have specific esoteric meanings [1] over and above, or instead of, their accepted common exoteric usage. Thus, and for example, a word such as Satanas may have an esoteric (batin) meaning and an exoteric (dhir) meaning – with the dhir meaning referring to what mundanes understand as Satan (a particular male causal and demonic form), and the batin meaning referring to what ONA initiates understand as an acausal (non-temporal, non-causally defined) entity Satanas who/which can shapeshift and who/which exists (when in the acausal) outside of our limited (causal) categories such as male/female, singular/plurality, and past/present/future. Hence, the accepted exoteric understanding of, and/or the appearance of some-thing – such as a name or chant – is not necessarily a guide to or an indication of its esoteric meaning, its use, or its efficacy in terms of sorcery. [2]” 

E.g. Malkuth, Vindex

how i may be able to access the different areas named after planets? 

Here are a few of the ways:

Some systems have star gates to reach other areas. 

Through symbols such as the Algol symbol.

The seven spheres and the pathways.

Oz

[alastors-radioshow]

Dew pulls up the window hidden away carefully in his bunk, asking it to show him the Overlord. They've got a long overnight drive to the next venue, and he could use the quiet conversation while everyone else is in the front living area.

"Hello there, Overlord," he smiles.

"You would be doing us a great service, Water Ghoul."

"Of course, Sister."

The breath knocked out of them. Gasping on the ritual altar.

There's a heavy scent of blood in the air, and the rising scent of dark magic, heavy and bitter.

Pain, fever rising and rising until his blood feels as though it's boiling.

Fire. Screaming. Uncontrollable and ragged until its voice is consumed by the flame, body, and blood burnt away to ashes on the altar.

Birth. Painpainpain. Make it stop, Satanas, make it stop. Lucifer, have mercy. Every nerve, muscle, and bone is new and screaming, voice frozen and silent.

Burnt flesh, burnt magic, blackened horns, and fin spines that no longer suit the fire ghoul rising from the ashes.

Blind and as vulnerable as a newborn kitten. It takes weeks before they remember they are a ghoul and not a thing that rages and screams himself bloody.

They are fire and passion and the lead guitarist for Ghost. The water has long since evaporated.

The crimson-clad overlord had been home for a while, tending to his garden, running his show, as per usual. However, he did have conversations with the fire ghoul, now and then. The window he had created for the other proved to be coming in handy, seeing as Dewdrop looked in on him quite often. Even when on tour.

So when the sizzling sound of the void opening was heard, that everlasting smile of his grew just a tad wider.

He always looked forwards to their conversations.

"Good evening, Rosée~" He'd chirp, closing the book in his hands, before he slowly allowed those crimson orbs to direct themselves at the ghoul.

What he saw... The assault of his mind in that moment. Just by looking at him.

The fire. The screams. The pain. It was as if he was there himself. Experiencing it on his own body. The scent of blood and burning flesh lingering in his nostrils long after the visions came to an end. It lasted for only a few seconds, invading his mind all at once. Seconds feeling like days.

From the ashes rose the fire ghoul he knew.

But the one who had doused him in gasoline and struck the match had been just as clear to him. Now, he knew that he disliked that woman. But that dislike would swiftly changed shape, morphing into a burning hatred.

Oh.. Oh, he would remember this.

He masked all of this well, however, only a slight furrow of his brows revealing that maybe, not everything was as it should be.

So that was what the spell had caused. That was what it did.

"On your best behavior, I assume~?"

[satanachia666]

Any recommendations on becoming a satanic witch? I find I keep getting into the same loop of the most popular demonolatry sources and books thank you in advance.

Hello! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this ask. I haven’t had the energy to respond in a while. Now that I do, I will do my best to answer your questions.

My favorite book about spiritual satanism is called Spiritual Satanist Prayer Book: Infernal Reflections by Venus Satanas (@venussatanas-blog on Tumblr). Demonic prayer is what has helped me build my connections with the demons. This book teaches you how to pray to Satan and other demons. The prayers are also well-worded and effective in terms of poetry and power.

Another book I read a while back was The Onyx Bible. Perhaps that might be worth looking into?

Admittedly, I’m looking to expand my demonic reading list as well. I’m currently working on At Satan’s Altar by Marie Ravensoul, but this book is well-known Satanic reading material. If anyone else has any good book recommendations that aren’t as well known as others are, leave that recommendation in the comment section.😊

Thank you for submitting this ask!💖 It’s the kick in the ass I need to get reading again.😈

[venussatanas-blog]

A Video Introduction to the Spiritual Satanist Prayer Book, Now Available!