#a fresh consecration

[devilmademewriteit]

thinking about jealous reader and jealous javi

Jealous Girl

gif via @javier-pena

pairing: javier peña x afab!fem!reader

warnings: roughy sex/smut (fem penetration) so 18+ only content; fem!afab!reader; dirty talk; jealous!reader; jealous!javi; sort of dom!javi; allusions to reader having long-ish hair; pet names (baby, babygirl, hermosa, cariño); slut-shaming (reader uses the word ‘whore’); dubcon (no explicit consent, Javi is… forceful).

no use of y/n in this fic

thx 4 the drabble / short fic request!! once again this is FERAL !!! feel free to keep sending me lil drabble requests. they’re so fun to write while I work on my longer fics.

reminder that I am not using the taglist for these, but you can turn on notifs & join the list in my pinned post for my longer works !

-em <3

—

“You broke it off with me, baby, remember?”

What does it matter? What does it matter when you lock eyes with him getting head in his car, parked in some barely-hidden side-street, one block away from your dad’s salsamentaria?

What does it matter when, ten minutes later, he finds you, alone in the back room of the store, forcing back tears of frustration as your shaking hands busy themselves with fresh inventory?

You spin around, prepared to bark curses at him for trespassing into sacred, employee-only territory. He’s leaning against the door, beige suit-jacket a little roughed-up, hair slightly out of place.

“Glad to see you’re enjoying your freedom,” you reply coolly, mirroring his pose against the far wall.

He smiles. You’d known him long enough to recognize that condescending expression — the wolfish twitch of his mustache.

Toying with you for sport.

“And you’re not?” Javi asks, the casual raise of his eyebrows deceptive compared to the darkness overtaking his gaze. “Everybody’s seen you, y’know, leaving bars half-naked with guys twice your age.”

Always an opportunist, the agent pushes on, taking advantage of your stunned silence. “N’ you used to be so shy, babygirl.” A chuckle. “The fuck did I do to you, huh?”

You stammer, wanting to tear into him for his crudeness (though he was right — mixing the breakup with tequila hadn’t failed to strip you of your inhibitions), but the man denies you the chance, gliding forward in a slow, wide step.

Softly. “You wear my gifts for them? Let ‘em fuck you in all those lil’ lace sets I got for you?”

He’s close now, and you’re beginning to see red. This was part of the reason behind the break-up in the first place — neither of you knew how to manage overwhelming care without dousing it in cruelty.

Those long-awaited fighting words finally manage to breach the threshold of your lips. “Yeah, actually, I do,” you drawl, arousal levelled by a red-hot rage coiling tighter and tighter within you, “Ruined a couple pairs.”

“Bullshit.” His consonants slice through his vowels, accusatory and harsh. “Bet that pussy doesn’t even get wet after bein’ trained by me, does it?”

Try not to choke on your snarl, girl. “‘Least I don’t have to get head a block down from my ex’s shop — z’that the only way you can still get hard, Peña?” You muster up a daring smirk, shouldering his challenge head-on. “Hoping you’ll see me walk by so you can finish inside your whore?”

Bull’s eye.

“Don’t act like you give a single fuck where I’m gettin’ my dick wet, cariño.” Every inch of him bristles something fierce, but with skill and practice, he keeps his anger in check — maintains the upper hand — looming over you to consecrate the threat.

“Just pissed that I’m fuckin’ another bitch’s throat when we both know that’s what yours’s made for, right?”

The coil snaps.

Before you can stop it, your hand is in the air, gunning straight for the tan skin over his cheekbone.

In a blink, he’s strangling your wrist, holding back your palm from making punishing contact. The following pause is thick and heavy, quickly overflowing with Javi’s rage-soaked hunger. Dark and dangerous, the man hones in on your glare—

And speaks, voice low.

“Y’know, I let her swallow my load—”

“Let go of me.”

“—but you can take the next one.”

And then he flips you over, brushing off your indignant whine, flattening your back against his chest. Javi is strong (he always has been) and there’s no point in resisting (there never was). He’s unzipped himself, hiked your skirt up, wrenched your panties to the side and forced himself inside you in a matter of seconds.

Dear God, forgive me for getting my fix.

A big hand wraps around your throat while unforgiving arms form a prison around your body. He tilts your head back to face him, savouring your tightness, your suffering, and the strangled moan of pleasure dripping from your lips with his hips’ every rough throw.

“Always gonna belong to me, huh?”

His whisper settles over your skin, heightening that already-unbearable bliss. Your muddled mind and slackened mouth scramble to form words beyond full full full, yes yes yes.

“F-fuck you, Peña—” you spit through clenched teeth, squeezing your eyes shut in concentration. You fingertips grow sore, pressed to bruise along his forearms. “You’re worse than me—you-you know it.”

Javi responds with a tightened grasp and diligent, skilled digits falling to manhandle your clothed breasts. “Yeah, fuck you, too—” and it’s strained, etched with long-awaited relief, “—fuckin’ spoiled—jealous brat.”

An all-encompassing jolt to your system — he’s found that aching bundle. He carves words into your sensitive clit: you were never going to be anything but mine, mine, mine. The arch in your spine deepens; the back of your head falls helplessly against his collarbone. And despite yourself — despite his venom — you grin, catching the broken hallelujah underpinning every vowel, every touch of his desperate, repressed desire.

It’s a symphony you both sing, a thought hanging so heavy in the room it almost becomes a tangible part of your filthy entanglement.

“If I can’t have you, baby, no one else in this world can.”

—

[paula-of-christ]

why do roman catholics not use real bread

It is real bread, in the manner that it is flour, water, salt, and I think oil? It's just rolled thin and baked at a low temperature so it is less matzo and ends up being a wafer. I imagine because it keeps better/doesn't need to be made fresh the day before. As roman Catholics offer communion/the Eucharist every day of the year, it needs to be able to keep. As for why there is no yeast, it's because it is a celebration of the Passover sacrifice every day, which is prescribed in Exodus as using unleavened bread (so no yeast or baking soda).

In the old testament, the Bread of the Presence, which was kept in the Temple, was feasted on by the priests every day, as part of their allotment of inheritance of Israel. Since now, in this New Age of Christ, priests do not receive an inheritance out of the sacrifice the parishioners give to the parish/church [in the form of food during the time of temple sacrifices], and there is no prescription of priests alone consuming the Body of Christ.

During the second temple era, priests would consume the Bread of the Presence from the day before, and fresh bread would be put in its place. We see something similar happen, when a priest consecrates new hosts during the Mass, and take from the tabernacle to give people the old bread. This is because as Christians, we believe that God has made us 'a people of priests' and so it is not only the ordained who can partake at the table, but the laity as well.

As time develops and the ability to preserve food advanced, it meant that the form of bread used during the Mass, shifted, so it has a more stable shelf-life. In Eastern orthodox churches [at least the Russian one, and im assuming others as well], for example, they don't have/use tabernacles, so they only consecrate what they think they will use, and consume anything left over that day. They don't keep the bread around for a week and slowly break pieces off for communion throughout the week.

If you're wondering more about the Eucharist in general and the biblical teachings on it, I highly recommend 'The Jewish Roots of the Eucharist'

[lailoken]

Hello Lucien. Before anything else, my deepest condolences. I'm sending you much love in these times of grief and pain🌹I wanted to ask you if there's anything you'd recommend for an invisibility charm? I'm about to get involved in a lot of magical field work and while I already use a spoken charm, I'd like to have a charm bag of some sort or something to carry with me. To remain unseen from prying eyes and protected from passers-by, and even from the law. If there's anything you can share with us for such purposes, or any advice you have, I'd be deeply grateful. Thank you for all you do for others and I wish that you always find a comforting embrace in hard times 🌹

Thank you for your kind and supportive words. I'm sorry it's taken me as long as it has to respond.

The invisibility charm I generally use when worried about going unnoticed involves wrapping a small opal in a fresh bay leaf and tying it shut into a little pouch. This pouch is then consecrated under the auspices of an entity associated with solitude, darkness, and/or illusions while being suffumigated with an incense of Dragon's Blood and Fern Seed (spores collected from any polypode plant—ideally beneath a Dark Moon, for this purpose). The spelled bundle can then simply be carried on your person.

Unfortunately, I find this particular charm only really seems to last until the Bay Leaf is fully dried, at which point, the leaf should be crushed and scattered on the wind. As such, you essentially have to recreate this charm each time you want to go out, but it doesn't take too long, and you can reuse the opal. In fact, I think the longer the same opal absorbs this charm's "energetic pattern" while in use, the more potent each charm using it will be thereafter (if only very slightly).

[glorious-sunset]

Location Names in LBFAD – Meaning and Significance

For English viewers, some of the location names in LBFAD (Love between Fairy and Devil) are given in Mandarin. However, the meanings of these names have deep significance that are lost in translation! Here are my translations and interpretations of these meanings.

Cang Yan Hai - 苍盐海: “Dark blue Salt Sea”

The hanzi (mandarin character) for “Cang” is the same as the “Cang” in “Dongfang QingCANG” (DFQC) and means dark blue. The colour dark blue is representative of the Moon Tribe, and may symbolise the night sky featuring the Moon (their emblem) and its reflection in the water of their Sea. Only members of the royal family (DFQC and Xunfeng) are seen wearing dark blue, embellished with gold (see image above). Other characters, such as Jieli and Xiao Lanhua (XLH) do wear blue but generally in lighter hues. Part of DFQC’s name (but not all, I will post more on this later) is named after the realm of the Moon Tribe, as he represents Cangyan Sea as their leader. The darkness of this imagery (and their better fashion and clothing! :D ) contrasts with the light and airy tones of Shuiyuntian.

The character for “Yan” is the same as the “Yan” in Lady Yan, the founder of the Moon Tribe, and means salt. Cangyan Sea is named after its founder to honour her establishment of their Tribe, and her name reflects the bitterness (saltiness) of her personal life experiences and her actions in response to these (I will post more on this later). “Yan” also symbolises the saltiness of the seawater in Cangyan Sea, and the harshness of the environment there. The people of the Moon Tribe work hard to survive, depending on fishing and hunting for sustenance. “Hai” means sea, acknowledging that Cangyan Sea is made up of many small islands surrounded by sea. The Moon Tribe also obtain many varieties of fresh seafood from the sea (and have better food than Shuiyuntian! :D )

Si Ming Dian - 司命殿: “Arbiter of Fate Temple”

This sacred place is named after the Arbiter of Fate, Siming (the title of her position), and hosts the sacred Tree of Destiny and Tianji Mirror. “Dian”, meaning temple (although subtitled as “Hall”), reflects the consecrated nature of this abode. The Arbiter of Fate, Siming, was in charge of the fates of everyone in the three realms, and took particular care to guide the destiny of XLH, whom she loved like a daughter, and upon whose fate the safety of the three realms depended.

Siming Dian is located in the most remote part of Shuiyuntian, and it can be supposed that Siming (and her predecessors) intentionally established their abode here to avoid Shuiyuntian politics and protect XLH’s secret identity. Fairies describe it as a miserable destination (ep. 1) and avoid visiting unless absolutely necessary. This remoteness and solitude allowed DFQC and XLH to peacefully coexist there for almost two weeks without being disturbed or discovered. Due to its north-facing aspect and remoteness, however, it does not receive much sunlight, making it difficult for the spirits there to cultivate and for XLH to recover after having her energy drained.

Shui Yun Tian - 水雲天: “Heavens of Water and Clouds”

“Tian” means sky/heavens and “Yun” means clouds, and from its lofty position high in the sky among the clouds, the residents of the Fairy Realm, Shuiyuntian, look down upon the mortal realm and the realm of the Moon Tribe, both literally and figuratively. They believe they are the top, most superior race, and have been actively trying to wipe out the Moon Tribe for generations. The fairies look down on XLH because of her origin from the mortal realm. But their views and opinions have been clouded by the propaganda circulated within Shuiyuntian, especially around members of the Moon Tribe.

All locations in Shuiyuntian (Arbiter Hall, Fountain Palace, Yujing etc.) float in the sky, and its residents are immortal beings with the ability to fly and manipulate energy. The clouds in this heavenly ethereal paradise are also home to the magical Cloud Whale.

“Shui” means water, and the capital of Shuiyuntian (Yujing) is the place where the four rivers Xiao, Xiang, Li and Yuan converge, controlled by the Four-River Pearl tower. Many structures featuring water are seen throughout Shuiyuntian, such as Fountain Palace, the waterfall in Shuyu forest and floating water fountains throughout Yujing. The vast amounts of water are a lethal weakness which DFQC exploits in ep. 9 by destroying the Four-River Pearl. This creates catastrophic tsunami waves threatening both Shuiyuntian and the mortal realm, the flow of which the celestials are barely able to reverse with their combined powers!

Yu Jing - 玉京: “Jade Capital”

Yujing, the capital of Shuiyuntian, is named after the sacred stone Jade, which is rare and highly prized in both Cangyan Sea and Shuiyuntian. However, the rarest forms of Jade come from Cangyan Sea, such as the Magical Jade Firefly stone which takes 10,000 years to form in the cold temperatures of Northernmost Ocean. No wonder Shuiyuntian wants to conquer Cangyan Sea and exploit their resources! Changheng obtained the Firefly stone for XLH during his recent invasion of Northernmost Ocean.

The other jade artefacts in the series are also observed within Cangyan Sea. The holy token of the Moon Supreme, the magical Jade ring, is a sacred artefact made of rare jade. This ring is enchanted to protect its wearer from mental influences, including the mental and emotional effects of the one-heart curse. Jieli steals rare jade from the Spiritual Treasures Pavilion at Silent Moon Palace (claiming it is for XLH :P )

Shu Yu Lin - 淑玉林: “Gentle Jade Forest”

Also named for the prized stone Jade, it is possible that Shuyu forest has some jade deposits, although we do not see them. “Shu” means gentle, and this forest is so well-lit, open and safe that escaped celestial criminals from Haotian tower are able to hide there only briefly in ep. 2. A few demons are brought in for a day for the fairies’ examination, but otherwise no dangerous creatures are seen in this forest. This was a beautiful and idyllic location for XLH and Changheng’s fateful tryst 500 years ago! :D

What a contrast this forest is to the Dark Pine Forest in Cangyan Sea! The Dark Pine Forest is dense and dark enough to hide the most evil of schemers, Ronghao, his henchmen and allies prime among them! It is also used for hunting and dangerous beasts likely lurk within.

Hao Tian Ta - 昊天塔: “Vast Sky Tower”

Located within the heavenly sky realm of Shuiyuntian, this maximum security prison is so vast that XLH is able to float freely within the top tier in ep. 1, the walls of the tower being so distant as to be out of sight. The vast tower has many many levels separated from each other, to house its numerous prisoners, who are sentenced to lengthy terms spanning tens of thousands of years. They are immortals, so executing them would lead to them reincarnating. Therefore, they are imprisoned instead to eliminate potential threats to Shuiyuntian. Haotian Tower is beside Shuyu Forest, as XLH observes the High Council around the tower from there in ep. 1, and both she and celestial criminals end up there after escaping the tower in ep. 2.

Xuan Xu Zhi Jing - 玄虚之境: “Realm of Deceit”

The Xuanxu realm is the region of Cangyan Sea that 30,000 years ago, saw the downfall of DFQC and the 100,000 soldiers loyal to him and to the Moon Tribe. “Xuanxu” means mystery or deceit, and perfectly describes how both DFQC and his soldiers were taken off-guard by Lady Chidi’s sacrifice, which sealed the soldiers within the earth. DFQC describes these tactics as “dirty tricks” in ep. 2.

Prior to the arrival of DFQC’s 100,000 soldiers, he and Lady Chidi had already been battling each other for some time (days in the novel), during which time, DFQC had marked the back of Lady Chidi’s neck with Hellfire, and she had weakened him. Thus, after her sacrifice, Lord Dong and the combined Heavenly High Council were able to gang up on and capture an already weakened DFQC, separating his spirit from his body and imprisoning both within Haotian Tower and the powerful magical seal of the Haotian Matrix. Note that DFQC refuses to stoop to this level of (deceitful) unfairness in ep. 13 when he refuses to fight a Changheng who is already injured and disadvantaged.

Shuiyuntian again launch an unprovoked attack and invasion of Cangyan Sea in ep. 31, on the deceitful false accusation that Ronghao offers them. The Xuanxu Realm is the site where the gravely outnumbered women and children of the Moon Tribe try to defend themselves against this genocidal onslaught.

Yun Meng Ze - 雲夢澤: “Cloud Dream Lake”

Yunmeng Ze is the only realm for mortal inhabitants among the three realms, as both Shuiyuntian and Cangyan Sea are the homes of immortal beings. It is named for the bountiful lakes bordering its buildings and residences. These lakes are connected to the Oblivion River, which immortals can use to transport themselves between Yunmeng Ze, Cangyan Sea and Shuiyuntian (as our OTP do in ep. 26).

The mortals that live here are not aware of the existence of magic or immortal beings, or of the other two realms, thus their perceptions are “clouded”. And like a fleeting cloud or dream, their lives are brief and fleeting compared with the lives of immortal beings. Even time runs much faster within Yunmeng Ze compared with the other two realms. A few hours in Cangyan Sea or Shuiyuntian is equivalent to a few months in Yunmeng Ze. For immortals living out tribulations in the mortal realm, their memories of their immortal lives are absent during this time, thus their perceptions are also clouded and the life they live out here is like a dream in retrospect.

Lu Cheng - 鹿城: “Deer City”

It’s not clear why Lucheng, a city in the mortal realm, is named after deer, but perhaps its inhabitants enjoy hunting deer for sport or for sustenance :) In the novel, Lucheng is a city under siege, thus its inhabitants are prey, similar to deer.

Hai Shi - 海市: “Sea City”

Haishi was founded by Ronghao with the backing of Xunfeng 30,000 years ago for the purpose of refining evil qi to sustain Taisui. It is a thriving centre for commerce and trade, and its location beside the sea (for which it is named “Sea City”) enables efficient transportation of mercantile goods to and from other regions. Within Haishi are located Jieli’s shop, the Luifang Pavilion and the Soul transformation grounds.

Haishi is located outside the three realms of Yunmengze, Shuiyuntian and Cangyan Sea. The evidence for this is: a) Jieli’s shop contains many magical artefacts that are forbidden in the mortal realm of Yunmengze so her shop can’t be there. b) XLH visits Jieli’s shop in Haishi in ep. 2 and she wouldn’t have been allowed to (or able to) visit Cangyan Sea at this time so the shop can’t be there. c) Jieli had been enchanted by her parents to have the appearance of a member of the Moon Tribe, thus would not have been allowed to live and trade in Shuiyuntian so her shop can’t be there. d) Ronghao is based in Haishi and he infrequently visits Shuiyuntian, thus Haishi is not in Shuiyuntian. Being outside the three realms enables Ronghao to refine evil qi from the souls of both Fairy Realm and Moon Tribe members without the notice of either of these tribes.

Liu Fang Ge - 留芳阁: “Keep Fragrant Pavilion”

The Liufang Pavilion in Haishi is the base for Ronghao (the Master of Haishi) and Dieyi, and is a legitimate business centre. It is the cover that they use for their nefarious activities of refining evil qi from the souls of the dead and feeding Taisui, thus it is important that they keep the reputation of this centre ever clean and fragrant.

Xi Shan - 息山: Breath (of life) Mountain

Xishan is also placed outside of the three realms in a faraway and remote location, and is named for the many mountains in this region. Members of the Xilan tribe inhabiting Xishan had the unique ability to restore damaged and disembodied spirits and had powerful healing magics. The Goddess of Xishan, with the power of the breath of life, could even resurrect the dead. The character for "Xi" is the same as the "Xi" in Xiyun (XLH's real name) and means breath (of life). Thus part of XLH's name is the same as the name of her realm, just as part of DFQC's name is the same as the name of his realm. This is because they both represent their respective realms and peoples as their leaders!

The Xilan tribe alongside the Goddess maintained tight security over the ultimate ancient evil god Taisui, who could not be completely defeated but was carefully sealed away beneath Xishan.

Here is a link to my article: LBFAD is the most inspiring series I have ever watched and here is why…

All of my LBFAD articles can be viewed with the tag #lbfad reflections (hyperlinked) and the table of contents to these is here.

[oddlittlemiss]

Sun Phases

The Sun is just as powerful and magical as the Moon. Although the moon takes 28 days to complete one full cycle, the sun completes its cycle within a day. Making it perfect to perform specific rituals/spells if the moon isn't at the phase you want.

Of course, Sun Magic carries its own energy as does the Moon. Some rituals/spells might do better during the time of the moon.

Dawn

This phase of the sun is connected to fresh starts, beginnings, or change. This is a good time for focusing on new jobs, new love or relationships, new path, or a new way of seeing things. Dawn is also great for rejuvenation such as renewal of hope and trust, recovery of good health, and restoring physical energy. Use this time to also consecrate your items.

Morning

The energy from the morning sun expands, making it very strong and active. Projects revolving around building, growth, or expansion works exceedingly well during this phase. Use this time to build on the positive aspects in your life, and resolve situations where courage is needed. You can also increase the warmth and harmony to your home, family, and relationships. Need to work on your heart issues (romance, sex, relationships)? Now is the time to handle those problems.

Noon

The sun is at full power as it peaks the sky at high noon. Matters of the heart, dealing with finances, justice, and protection are great to focus on during this phase. This is an excellent time to ask for extra strength and energy to help get through the rest of the day. Health magic does well during this phase too.

Afternoon

Descending from the sky, the sun energies become more receptive, less brash, and much more discerning. Set time aside to handle projects that need clarity, professionalism (anything requiring a strategic approach), business matters, communications, and all interactions with other people. Rituals focusing on exploration of ideas, adventures, and travel are also good to do during this phase.

Sunset

Slowly disappearing from sight, the energy of the sun is diminishing. Use this time to tie up loose ends, getting rid of bad habits, and eradicating personal aggravations such as; stress, confusion, and poor health. This phase is perfect to cleanse things such as tools, crystals/stones, a ritual space, or even yourself. Sunset can help uncover deceptions so, divination work is good to do during this time.

[latterdaydaisy]

How I Practice My Faith and My Craft as a Mormon Witch ~ daily (the basics)

I start my day with a prayer.

After I pray, before I do anything else I do a quick devotional study. I use the We Believe app and the RiseXP app for this.

After I have prayed and I do my devotional, it’s time to cleanse, recharge, and protect myself! I’ll draw a bath meant for cleansing myself physically and spiritually. The stuff I put in can vary, but I typically always use at least these items: clear quartz, salt, lemongrass, and a drop of some blessed water I��ve made for purifying myself/items. After my bath, I’ll put on a fresh pair of garments and my veil for protection (and a reminder to humble myself). Then I go out in the sun to charge and I’ll sip on some chamomile tea charged with my intentions for the day. I’ll say a prayer of gratitude during this time as well.

Once I feel sufficiently filled with light, it’s time to begin my day! I go inside and begin my devotional time. I’ll light a candle on my altar for Jesus, and do a quick tarot reading to see what God would have me focus on learning and doing for the day to help me progress along the covenant path. Once that’s done, it’s time for scripture study! I like to open with prayer and a hymn. I’ll ask God to lead me by the Spirit in my study so I may know what He would have me learn and how I can apply this principle in my life today. Currently I listen to one general conference talk and read a couple chapters of the Book of Mormon and the New Testament. I’ll do devotionals in my journal for a quote I liked in the talk and a verse that stood out to me following the SOAP outline. (Scripture, Observations, Application, Prayer. I leave space at the end of the page to reflect on my experiences applying what I learned at the end of the day.)

Now I’ve completed my morning routine, it’s time to move on throughout my day! As I go about my day I continually pray, try my best to keep my baptismal and temple covenants, and look for opportunities to be kind to/serve/and share the gospel with others. As an offering to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ I consecrate all my efforts to Them. I also try to make time to be still so the Spirit can speak to me, usually by taking a minute to breathe and be present (even if I’m doing chores). I also make an effort to listen to uplifting music/podcasts while I work on my chores to uplift my spirit. When I’m doing chores is also when I’ll usually cleanse my house of any energy/influences not of God. (Note on my house, it’s been blessed by the missionaries at my ward as well as myself, and I have wards set up)

Whenever I feel inclined to pray about something, I usually do a quick spell alongside the prayer. This is mostly to get me in the habit of practicing every day in small ways, but it’s really helped me to be less robotic and more sincere in my prayers. Not anything super fancy. It can be as simple as putting amethyst in my purse on the way to institute to calm my social anxiety, a bay leaf sigil burning, or just visualization. If I feel inclined, I’ll also do spell work for those I pray for. Note: something I’ve learned is crucial whether you pray, cast a spell, or do both- remember this pattern: ask, believe, act. Pray/spell cast, choose to believe all things are possible with God, and do your due diligence relying on God’s grace to bring about the things you prayed for (this is when the Lord works miracles).

When the day has ended, I’ll begin my night routine. After I go back on my morning devotional study and reflect on my day, I’ll cleanse myself once more, put some crystals charged with my intentions for the next day under my pillow, spray my peace essential oil mist on my pillow, and end the night with a prayer of gratitude, repentance, and asking for a good sleep to be prepared for the next day. I also keep my veil under my pillow for protection since it’ll fall off when I sleep.

I’ll make future posts on how I connect with Christ and some spells that I do, but here is a general outline of what my day as a Mormon witch looks like! (Might make another post on my sabbath days because those look a little different). Thanks for reading!

[therealslimshakespeare]

Somebody’s Daughter

an Elvis Presley, southern gothic fanfiction dealing with the disappearance of a legend

Note: I wrote this ages ago and intended an entire universe for it but to be honest I’ve run out of motivation. Still, in time for spooky season, here’s my most unreal fic I’ve ever written

Word count: 2k

Some swore he was dead inside that grand ole place. That without gardeners to keep it in check, the kudzu that wove its way up the pale brick like a gnarled shroud was the only consecration provided for the mortal shell of the King of Rock and Roll. Like God alone had cast a leafy covering over his wayward son, a last act of grace like fig leaves were woven for Adam’s shame after The Fall.

Even the musical gates had rusted closed, not unbarred in eons, not even to allow the Grandma’s out of the living sepulcher for their knitting circle and the driveway itself was busted up by age and shifting earth, weeds overtaking asphalt. Gone were the days of verve and bustle, the guard shacks were empty of vigilant relatives and the gates no longer held back a throng of autograph seekers. One look up the decadently long driveway towards the dilapidated mansion was enough to disincline anyone from inviting someone -or something- out of the place.

Not that anyone was in it, there was no way there could be anyone in it. Not anymore.

They were probably dead, too, the grandmas. Or dying inside there themselves, slow as the growth of the vines that grew and grew and blocked out all sunlight into the inside of the mansion. But a house of corpses was too horrible a thought and deserved some investigation which no one was willing to do. It was better to assume they were dead, hopefully they all were, the other option was too unsettling.

But no hearse had passed through those corroded gates. And so folks wondered.

Such speculation was all very wel for the fates of the grandmas, even for Elvis Presley and his laundry list of ailments, narcotic abuses and pathological ticks. But there was the young woman to be considered, none of this explained what she was doing all these years holed up on the estate, only photographed from afar by daring souls who climbed the trees near the back fence line.

Those daring souls got the fright of their lives, buckshot to the asses and blurry photos of a dark haired female of indistinguishable features for all their pains. Civilallians pointed out that the photographed figure could be easily mistaken for a pillar or large planter. Maybe a dog up on its hindlegs. A blob really. And no one knew where the shots came from, not at midnight in a seedy part of Memphis; could have been from anywhere. After a few years they just stopped trying, some saying they found the place too spooky to even be hanging around.

It was very…undead, for such a decaying place.

And so the world speculated and shuddered and then hastily shelved the topic, only wondering whatever became of the most famous man in the world when a magazine would print a new article celebrating his heyday with his fresh and lean young self on the glossy cover, or when his ex wife got in the news while still toting around his surname like monogrammed luggage through the gossip slums, or when folks passed the overgrown wall and cankered gates and wondered, wondered and wondered what became of him until they stopped wondering.

When they stopped wondering it was because they collectively assumed -like he always knew they would- that they’d heard from somewhere that he’d died. A mass misremembered memory, that was what his demise was. But then they could mourn him, and that was far more comfortable than knowing they had driven him to it, driven him to madness and into the arms of sorrow and seclusion -to make a home with her and never show his face again.

No, they collectively liked him dead. He was smaller that way and they felt less guilty, they could write tributes and share anecdotes and feel less horrified by the human proclivity towards self destruction if he were nice and dead. Quite dead. Thoroughly dead.

Elvis Presley was dead, they were sure they’d heard it somewhere.

But Joe Esposita ran outta money. And to make more he opened his big mouth to do what he did best -extemporize some facts. And unfortunately for the storytellers and the tribute makers and the record collectors, George Klein was obliging enough to broadcast Joe’s yacking nationwide over radio waves (anything for an old buddy) and all the sudden folks cared about Elvis Presley again. They cared with the same detached fascination they held for Sasquatch and Mothman. They cared whether the crazy fucker of Joe’s retelling was rotting inside his house and if the ghoulish figure in chiffon, pictured always in a white streak of unnaturally swift movement towards the shadowy figures of the guardian lions of Graceland -ever actually existed.

“You’re saying that he made her up? As an excuse to get rid of you all?” George prodded his by no means bashful guest to speak into the mic.

“Yeah that’s right,” Joe spoke with the confidence of a man who never really knew as much as he wanted to and had been making up the shortfall with embellishments ever since, “EP was already lost to the drugs by then. And he did go out one time and sorta rendezvous with a woman…this lady of the night, you might say…and he didn’t care after. But then later, he did care, and he cleared the whole house out saying he was going to bring her in and redeem her.”

“So there was a woman, a prostitute really,” George pressed the obvious as his listeners clutched on to reveal with talons grown of gruesome fascination with the macabre last days of the King.

“Yes, and it was a funny story, one of a thousand. It was no big deal. Supposed to be no big deal.” Joe was a little put upon to have to divulge any one of those thousands of funnies. Not just for the sake of preserving his old boss’s dignity but because Joe really was a self retiring fella that didn’t like to betray a trust, a nice fella that kept things close to his chest and tried to paint them in their most noble light if they happened to get out. So it was that after an entire quarter of second’s pause to consider his words carefully and measure the weight of his imminent disclosure he revealed, “The boss had been pounding the pills on tour, right? And the last few weeks he got this stiffy and it just wouldn’t go down, gave him trouble pissin’ and walkin’ and preformin’ got so awful he started tellin’ us to bring him anybody or a couple anybodys who might help. And we brought him back a lotta women and he blew through ‘em and they all came out smilin’ but he wasn’t. It wasn’t working’ and he told me and Sonny he was worried he was gonna hurt wanna these groupies if he kept at it. Nothin’ was cuttin’ it. And ya might say “hey Elvis you should go see a softer about that” but of course-“

“-His doctor was the one who had prescribed him the medications with those side effects!” George helpfully added a little professionalism to this locker room anecdote.

“Right!” Joe barreled on, “So we cut the tour a little short and we got him back to Graceland and figured that settlin’ down and weening off the pills and with the help of Miss Candy, he’d find some uh, uh, relief. But he didn’t, Candy seemed to have her period about ten times a month and the rest of the time he said she said he was being too rough. Eventually he told me he needed me to make some calls.”

“For a specialist or something?”

“No, a hooker -escort, whatever.” Joe quite forgot he was on air, or maybe he didn’t, “Talkin’ a lot about the book of Hossea and how god had made the prophet marry a prostitute and all that, to represent uh, umm, well I can’t remember, uh, but he was all into the spiritual shit and really thought he was a messiah or something. The upshot of it was that we moved a grandma and a whole ventilator situation into the big house. But I never saw anyone else, though I heard the upstairs shower running one time when EP was downstairs. But no, there’s no ‘white witch of graceland', hell no. She was an acid trip, man, he dreamed her up and said she’d replace Pricilla, then robbed a nursing home, I guess, to prop up his narrative. The man would cheat over anythin’, he’d cheat to win an Easter egg hunt.”

“So it was a revenge fantasy of sorts.” George supplied a life raft to his floundering friend, “A delusional version of his intended life, you’re saying?”

“Yeah! He was all ‘this one’s never gonna be able to leave me’ and all that stupid, possessive shit. He dreamed her up and wanted us to believe him.”

“You could say she was a figment of a particularly heavy dose?” George put on his most solicitous talk show voice.

“Yeah, yeah exactly, nothing more. Folks need to move on.”

Moving on was not exactly intended or facilitated by the soon after release of his tell-all book, the last five chapters of which were dedicated to suggesting that Joe Esposita and Joe Esposita alone knew a great deal about a woman he had previously said didn’t exist. Fans went nuts, theories flew like confetti and folks camped out at the Graceland gates till the hoot owls scared them away come nightfall.

Not to be outdone, Red West wrote a book of his own, and while he didn’t even pretend to have so much as known about Elvis’ rendezvous with an average Memphian streetwalker, he sure spent a lot of ink about it and talked about how he could feel her presence upstairs the last day he was at Graceland.

Which was the day he got sacked and a loaded gun pointed at his face by his erstwhile boss and friend.

At which point Red’s book really lagged on about betrayal and brotherhood and army days. Readers thumbed through the rest of the sore narrative hoping to read more about the feeling of a mysterious woman upstairs and her strange hold on a man who had spent his life drinking in the admiration of a crowd and now spent his life, or death, like a hermit inside an antebellum tomb. Charmingly self absorbed, Red’s book never did focus back on her after that throwaway mention and after the initial frenzy for his hot take, the sales died down and folks were left again with blurry photos that never quite matched up.

But so it was that people took to eyeing the dilapidated home of the King once more and took to wondering anew. Only his horses, turned feral from neglect and still grazing around the house and occasionally spooked into a fiendish gallop (perhaps by some unseen movement inside the verdant facade) kept a new generation of ghost hunters from climbing over the wall and clearing away the verdure from the front door to see if the lady inside was pale from lack of sun or lack of life.

One soul among a nation’s worth was less impressed by the supernatural aspects of what she termed a macabre pity party. Being intimate with the man, marrying him, bearing him a child and then watching his virulent prowess slowly go to seed before her very eyes had that effect on a child bride.

Once, and only once, Priscilla Presley had pried open the Graceland gates before they had fully melded together in their decay, hell bent on discovering if there was any life left in the place. The grandmas had long since stopped their Wednesday exit, no fans gathering or maimed photographers, nothing to suggest that the place she had once called home and planned on spending forever in was still inhabited. Her Lisa, her baby deserved the place, she deserved to have her inheritance and no folklore legend of a gas station hooker wandering the grounds was going to keep her from getting her due. -Lisa’s due, of course.

Pricilla never was quite the same after that trip. In vain did the ambitious young journalist who sought to write a biography on the King’s one true love attempt to extract from her something resembling a credible narrative. When asked for details of her life, for anecdotes of her famous love affair, she kept mumbling as if in a daze

“I’m not sure, I just don’t know, I can’t say for certain, where am I?”

She never answered to “Pricilla” again.

Pricilla had been a creature crafted in his image, eponymous with his desire, a figment of his fevered ambition for a perfect marriage. When the first fabrication had failed, he had found another, more squalid, more mailable, more pitifully needy -but perfect in her lack of self. In her was no woman to take his beloved child away, to test his patience with her wantonness or ruin his reputation with her deceit.

“You’re not Pricilla,” the figure of the man she once knew told her coldly from between the grand columns of the porch, “I made Pricilla, without me you’re just one a’the crowd. I’ve made myself a Pricilla, and this time she’s gonna stay.”

[sunlighthroughthe-ashes]

anne carson once wrote a book of essays titled "eros the bittersweet" — a phrase which is so apt, when applied to sol and sunjae. "eros the bittersweet" — because the touch of love is both pain and blessing; and no two people know that better than sunjae and sol. their love was fractured, but fundamental to their very being — it was raw, but it was real. they went through agony, consecrated their devotion in the saltwater of sacrifice — and saved each other in every way a man and woman could be saved, because love is redemption, capable of moving the sun and stars.

one of the fundamental concepts in carson's compendium of essays is what occupies the space between a lover and his beloved — a profound "lack," an unbridged distance — which is known as desire. this is what lingers in every look and touch between sol and sunjae before they finally receive their happy ending: a "lack" — whether it was the wrong timeline, the wrong moment; the wrong year — they were just inches away from belonging to each other. seconds away from each other's skin — brushing briefly against each other's hearts: residing there forever.

but though carson believed that this "lack" could never be overcome — that it was the core of love: sunjae and sol managed to pass through it. they surmounted death, memory loss; thwarted the constraints of time and destiny — all for each other. sunjae gave his life for sol. and sol gave up her one shot at happiness for him. they fought for each other until the very end, and fate finally rewarded them — the flowers overhead pink with the peace and contentment of their future together. their love carries that ancient freshness of cherry blossoms — the petal-soft connection of souls strung alongside each other, stretching across lifetimes. across universes. across centuries. a love worthy of the gods themselves. a love for which eros might break his own arrow.

eros might be bittersweet; but sol and sunjae make it beautiful. 🌸🤍

[elliember]

November 18th - Eternal

The white stag was a symbol of rebirth and renewal. A figure that ushered in the new year and started the weeklong festival and celebration. A ceremonial hunt after a beast was nurtured by the magic of this place, cultivated carefully and infused with both life and death. He became larger, faster and more adept to survive in the harsh surroundings. 

Every year, as it had been done before. The massive cervine skull was laid in a ritualistic grove. Bound by the growth and the flora that permeated the runic circle and wood and bone effigies that surrounded it, a new beast was born. The bone was cracked and his antlers broken as the circle consumed the splinters and pieces, pulling the bone and fragments deep into the earth as the druids that summoned him paid careful attention to their spells and incantations. 

The earth churned. A creature of flesh pushed up through the darkened soil. A freshly born fawn with fur as white as the moon laid curled in upon itself before his long limbs would unfurl and he would make a desperate attempt to stand. Unsure and unsteady. His steps staggered as his too many eyes shifted timidly from druid to druid. Eyes that were as black as night with flecks of white starlight mottling them. 

Each step forward became more emboldened. Each step forward saw unnatural growth. Imbued and chosen. By the time the beast had left the circle of summoning, he was adolescent in size and more sure-footed. A bellowing call that echoed through the trees as he bound away and vanished. He belonged to the spirits here and would be nurtured by them.

And for every day that passed. He grew. He learned. He understood his purpose. He tested the druids and their commune. He consecrated the earth with his silent footfalls, live growth tangling up to meet his hooves as he moved through the trees in elegance and regal appointment. As he passed, the fresh growth would wither and die in the wake of his departure. Flowers that had bloomed in the prints where his hooves had passed, sprouted and shone brightly in a fleeting and dazzling moment of expedited life and death. Petals curling and rotting away before disappearing into the natural leaf litter and dirt.

And when the year came to its inevitable end. When the stag was at his most impressive in body and mind, the ceremonies would begin. The ritual hunt was the start to the new year. The member of the commune that laid the beast low would receive his blessings and his good fortune all through the year. 

The white stag was no easy beast to catch. A monstrous body bound in  muscle carried him for miles. His stride could outpace the unprepared. His kick could break bones and antlers that could impale flesh with a grotesque ease. He tasked this commune with the challenge of putting him to death. And when they came together - they achieved the impossible task.

A bloodied skull hung on display to signal the festival and the hedonistic events where forest spirits mingled with the mortal denizens that called this place home. Feasts. Music. Dancing. Rituals and indulgence. The party spun on for days and responsibilities and cares were few. And as the final hours came to close, the inner circle would flay the flesh of the beast from the skull and clean it in observance of his sacrifice and death. Honoring his power with prayer and reverence before returning to the place where it all began. The funerary plot and the womb in the woods that saw the beast resurrected and reborn. The cycle anew. 

He was eternal. He was the deification and manifestation of life and death.

The original patron spirit of this violent place that existed in a pocket between planes.

@daily-writing-challenge

@elliember

[dailycharacteroption]

Book Review: Pathfinder AP #1, Rise of the Runelords Burnt Offerings

Yesterday, we looked at the very first hardback of the Pathfinder system, and today, we’re going back further to the very first Adventure Path under the Pathfinder name! That’s right, it’s Rise of the Runelords time!

By coincidence, I’ve actually started a playthrough of the revised compilation version of the AP in hardback, so it’s interesting to get to look at it through fresh eyes.

This was it, the beginning of an era, A new setting specifically made with D&D 3.5 in mind, and the start of what would become a full-fledged phenomenon.

For many people, this was the first look at the Lost Omens setting, with it’s own gods and lore and the promise of a rich ancient history that would rear it’s ugly head and give adventurers something or someone to fight to preserve the society of today.

So let’s talk about the actual adventure itself without spoiling anything! The adventure opens on a lovely festival consecrating a new temple when a goblin raid occurs! The party is tasked with fighting off the raiders as well as dealing with a few events in the aftermath, but soon after, it becomes clear that the goblins were actually working for someone, and the conspiracy runs surprisingly deep into the town’s past, as well as hinting at a sinister ancient power which will arise in the following adventures.

As one of the very first Pathfinder products, this book helped establish the look of the setting and the system, not to mention the lore! Everything from the schools of magic being tied to the seven deadly sins in the Ancient Thassalonian Empire, to the more relevant “10 facts about goblins” spiel that actually elevated goblins from being one of D&D’s personality-less generic evil humanoids to something so iconic and beloved that they’ve become one of the mascots of Paizo as a company.

Even though it was originally written as a 3.5 adventure, Burnt Offerings offered a rich setting with elements ranging from ancient magical empires to being a rumor-haunted region with at least 3 cryptids lurking nearby, to revitalizing the concept of goblins to being delightful little weirdos in addition to just “bad guys”.

On the other hand, I hope you like the new goblins because with the exception of a few monsters and the ringleaders of the conspiracy, goblins make up the majority of the fights in this adventure. Additionally, while it’s not super obvious in this particular adventure, but the Rise of the Runelords AP in general definitely draws upon the early Pathfinder themes of edgier, more adult lore with more blatant violence and dark themes than your average adventure, which isn’t for everyone.

That will do for today though, and I hope you enjoyed it! And if you enjoyed how Pathfinder revised goblins to be more interesting in this adventure, then you’ll love how they gave many more monsters a similar treatment with tomorrow’s subject!

[fields-of-rye]

rules: recommend as many books as you like. please include genre and some basic information on it (either your words or a copy+paste synopsis). feel free to include cover art, a personal review, trigger warnings, and anything else! just don’t spoil the book!

tagged by @southernreaches

(not gonna lie this post made me read again and now I rented out This Is How You Lose the Time War so thanks mate lol)

Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, LGBTQ+, Slice of life

After a lifetime of bounties and bloodshed, Viv is hanging up her sword for the last time. The battle-weary orc aims to start fresh, opening the first ever coffee shop in the city of Thune. But old and new rivals stand in the way of success — not to mention the fact that no one has the faintest idea what coffee actually is.

This was recommend to me by a friend of me and oh me oh my, this was SO GOOD. This takes such a good spin of the dnd adventure genre and just lets you wonder what might happen after the grand adventure which is just 'chef's kiss'. Also the romance? SO CUTEEE.

The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson

Genre: Fantasy and Adventure

It has been centuries since the fall of the ten consecrated orders known as the Knights Radiant, but their Shardblades and Shardplate remain: mystical swords and suits of armor that transform ordinary men into near-invincible warriors. Men trade kingdoms for Shardblades. Wars were fought for them, and won by them. One such war rages on a ruined landscape called the Shattered Plains. There, Kaladin, who traded his medical apprenticeship for a spear to protect his little brother, has been reduced to slavery. In a war that makes no sense, where ten armies fight separately against a single foe, he struggles to save his men and to fathom the leaders who consider them expendable.

So after reading this book I have been OBSESSED with this whole series. The way Brandon Sanderson world builds, characterizes, and just writes these books are beautiful and actually inspired me to write my own original fiction. Can't read a more beautiful book than this.

tagged: @toadmancer, @oh-yeah-no, @oneiroy, @aymerictheblue, @uldahstreetrat, @iloveyouspaceship, @whatsthisascianbullshit, @rosenfey, @bunflora, @manicpixiegirlboy

[dark-corner-cunning]

Uncrossing With A Directional/Crossroads Cord-Cutting

Note to Reader: This post is alignment with my "Clear Your Path to Spring Success with Path Clearing Magick". This working can also be done in alignment with a Path-Clearing or Road Opener.

In life's journey, we often form connections with many individuals or situations, some of which may no longer serve our highest good. These attachments or cords, at times, can become detrimental, carrying negative energies, crossed conditions, or even manifesting tulpas that can wield influence over our thoughts and perceptions. To address these issues, the practice of a Crossroads or Directional Cord Cutting/Uncrossing can be immensely beneficial. 

The primary goal of this working is to sever all emotional, energetic, and spiritual ties that no longer serve us, including those we might not consciously recognize or know which direction they are coming from. It's important to emphasize that cord-cutting is not a tool for trivial matters, petty disputes, or seeking revenge. Engaging in this practice during moments of anger or emotional turmoil is not advised; instead, it is recommended to undertake this working from a place of clarity. However, I am not your witch mama lol and as a firm believer in free will, follow your intuition and act accordingly.

By actively releasing these attachments or cords, individuals can liberate themselves from the past and facilitate their own personal growth. As you undergo this process, you may experience a profound sense of detachment from situations or individuals that once held significant influence over your emotions. This newfound liberation can pave the way for a fresh perspective and a renewed sense of emotional, energetic, and spiritual freedom.

In essence, cord-cutting serves as a transformative working that encourages both parties to move forward in their respective journeys. As you embark on this spiritual practice, you may find yourself unburdened by the weight of past attachments and cords and find yourself more aligned with your true path. Embracing the power of cord-cutting can be a profound step towards healing, growth, and reclaiming your yourself and power.

Crossroads/Directional Cord-Cutting & Uncrossing:

Items Needed:

1 black figure candle to represent yourself. Also, a plain black candle will work too if you can't get your hands on a figure one.

4 white candles for the Crossroads & Directions

4 pieces of white cord

4 white pieces of paper with your name and date of birth on them

Frankincense and Myrrh incense for consecration

Uncrossing or Banishing Oil

Crossroads dirt (optional) you can also draw the crossroads

Aluminum pan (optional) I love these to burn in. Makes clean-up a breeze.

Candle Dots Adhesive (optional) you can always melt the end of the candles to your surface. However, these $5 treasures make attaching candles to any surface effortless!

Some hair cuttings (optional) I like using hair as a taglock

Directions:

Begin by burning the Frankincense & Myrrh incense. Use the smoke to cleanse and consecrate your candles, cords, paper, and pan.

Next, write or carve the directions on each white candle and for the black candle write or carve your name and date of birth. Or you can taglock it with some hair in a later step when you apply the Uncrossing Oil.

Now prepare your pan with the crossroads dirt or draw (+) a cross to represent the crossroads inside the pan.

Setup spell work like the picture above. Place a piece of paper with your name and date of birth under each white candle… also place the paper and candles in the correct directions… you might need to use a compass app to find the correct directions of the crossroads for you. It may be tricky tying the cords on the candles...this is where the candle dots help out by reducing the movement of the candles coming undone from the pan.

Put some Uncrossing oil on the white candles only. Work in opposites. North to South, East to West.

Ground and call in spirit guides, ascended ancestors, or any patrons or saints you may work with for your highest well-being and potential. You may want to offer some incense and a glass of water as offering while performing the spell.

Now it's time to open the crossroads by placing your hands over your working and say:

At the crossroads, I stand so bold, Where energy flows, boundless and untold. Paths diverge, choices to be made, Energetic roads, my power to aid.

I open the gates, direct the flow, Guiding the energy, high and low. At the center, I lay, in control and sway, Shaping the future, with each word I say.

Energetic pathways intertwine and bind, From the center, I stand, a force of a kind. Empowered and focused, in this sacred space, I shape destinies with my will and grace.

I command the crossroads to open wide, Reveal the path where destinies collide. Unveil the choices, the options to choose, Let me chart my course, win or lose.

Crossroads, part ways, reveal the unknown, Guide me through the journey I must own. Grant me the wisdom to make my decree, As I command the crossroads, open your gates and set my spirit free.

Put some Uncrossing oil and this would be the time to add some of your hair on the figure candle and say:

Here I stand surrounded by cords, shackles, and chains, workings and bindings against me for other’s desires and gains.

Protection comes to me this day and any unserving cords and crossed conditions will no longer have sway. By this uncrossing and cord-cutting, all unserving energy is sent away, back to the sender from which it came.

• Now call in the fate of the crossroads of the spirit gate and light the figure candle:

As I call to the fates of The Crossroads, I call to my highest self. Gateway of Spirit and Soul. I call you forth and invoke your ancient force. Crush and remove all malevolent entities, all unserving cords & attachments, and all curses & crosses placed upon me. Break & dissolve. Bless and set free. As it is now, so it is & so shall it be!

To be set free I will now call to the powers that be, from every fate of the crossroads to release all cords, crossings, and energy that isn’t serving me.

Now it is time to get ready to call in the fates of the crossroads of each direction and light the candles for each direction. Say the direction first and then light its corresponding candle right after. Remember to work in opposites.

North: As I call to the fates of The Crossroads, I call to the Winds beyond the North gate. Gateway of Air and Father Sky. I call you forth and invoke your ancient force. Crush and remove all malevolent entities, all unserving cords & attachments, and all curses & crosses placed upon me. Break & dissolve. Bless and set free. As it is now, so it is & so shall it be!

South: As I call to the fates of The Crossroads, I call to the fields beyond the south gate. Gateway of Earth and Mother. I call you forth and invoke your ancient force. Crush and remove all malevolent entities, all unserving cords & attachments, and all curses & crosses placed upon me. Break & dissolve. Bless and set free. As it is now, so it is & so shall it be!

East: As I call to the fates of The Crossroads, I call to the flames beyond the East gate. Gateway of fire and rising sun. I call you forth and invoke your ancient force. Crush and remove all malevolent entities, all unserving cords & attachments, and all curses & crosses placed upon me. Break & dissolve. Bless and set free. As it is now, so it is & so shall it be!

West: As I call to the fates of The Crossroads, I call to the bodies of water beyond the west gate. Gateway of Water and Grandmother Moon. I call you forth and invoke your ancient force. Crush and remove all malevolent entities, all unserving cords & attachments, and all curses & crosses placed upon me. Break & dissolve. Bless and set free. As it is now, so it is & so shall it be!

Let all candles burn completely and when they are finished say:

Consumed by the great and victorious fates of the Crossroads I have been set free.

Release Spirit:

Spirit guides, ascended ancestors, fates of the crossroads,(Patrons & Saints), and highest self… I release you to return to the infinite with my utmost gratitude and appreciation for watching over and assisting me. As above, so below. As within, so without. As the universe, so the soul.

Lastly, release the crossroads:

I command the crossroads to close now, No more paths to wander, no more to allow.

No more hesitations, no more second-guess, I command the crossroads to close, no more to access.

Dispose of the remains how you choose.

[yuki-shipnoda]

Do you ever wonder how would Western type vampires and yokai and yurei would interact with each other? Since a living corpse is kind of antithetical to Shinto beliefs regarding death, blood, impurity etc.

Maybe Yuki and the other vampires cannot enter a Shinto shrine and stay far away from the mikos and priests. Or there is an obscure sect within Shinto that ties vampires to Izanami, the goddess of the underworld and sees them as divinely blessed. What happens on Obon when Yuki has to take care of his family's graves?

One time Pierre stays at a hotel/ryokan that is infamous for being haunted and Yuki's presence scares the crap out of any residual spirits and thus no paranormal activity is noted.

I like to think that while Yuki and the Yurem are all Japanese yokais & yureis, Nyck is an exception as he is a Western vampire due to him being part Dutch (I would've made him the Indonesian vampire variant, but they're strictly female. Maybe in another time I'll write Female!Nyck or Transmasc!Nyck). They can interact with one another since, well, they're all haunted, but it's actually weird that someone undead exists to them.

Like in many belief systems, I believe that the vampires can't enter sacred spaces and consecrated grounds such as Shinto shrines (Nyck can't enter churches either) since they're all unclean spirits. Pierre is aware of this and they keep a distance from him whenever he enters and returns from a shrine or church, especially if a priest or miko blesses him and sprinkles holy water.

Anyways, story time!

Everyone in the Yurem died and wasn't given the proper purification rites, hence them all becoming vampires. In Yuki's case, someone murdered him and had to quickly bury the body, which was why he wasn't cleansed and cremated before burial, only given a death kimono. His whole family is gone (Riko is under her husband's family grave) so Yuki is the only one left to take care of the Tsunoda family grave every year during Obon. He has always hidden in his human form whenever Obon falls so no one would grow suspicious. Now that Pierre is in the picture, he helps Yuki clean the Tsunoda family grave, providing a fresh set of flowers and joss sticks during the day and taking lots of photos during the festival and parade at night.

Yuki follows Pierre everywhere he goes in both his bird and human form (and with that death kimono as well, Pierre does his best to take good care of it and keep it clean) and acts as Pierre's translator (he's doing his best to explain in English). One day, Esteban challenged him to sleep in a ryokan infamous for its rumours of being haunted, while going into the countryside to take photos for a tourism magazine. Pierre accepts the challenge anyway and brings Yuki along for companionship. When they both enter the ryokan, Pierre-vision shows no ghost presence, but Yuki-vision shows that he sees all the ghosts being terrified at his presence, mostly out of a caste system. Pierre wonders what's with all the fuss of it being haunted, but Yuki just shrugs in response, knowing that the spirits don't like him.

It's a win-win for both of them, Yuki gets all the blood he likes & protection from strangers while Pierre has a built-in translator, guide, and protection from the supernatural.

[paganimagevault]

Roman votive relief to Vesta 140-150 CE. Altes Museum.

"The chief of the Pontifices, the Pontifex Maximus, had the duty of expounding and interpreting the divine will, or rather of directing sacred rites, not only being in charge of public ceremonies, but also watching over private sacrifices, and preventing any departure from established custom, as well as teaching whatever was requisite for the worship or propitiation of the Gods. He was also overseer of the holy virgins called Vestals; for to Numa is ascribed the consecration of the Vestal virgins, and in general the worship and care of the perpetual fire entrusted to their charge. It was either because he thought the nature of fire pure and uncorrupted, and therefore entrusted it to chaste and undefiled persons, or because he thought of it as unfruitful and barren, and therefore associated it with virginity. Since wherever in Greece a perpetual fire is kept, as at Delphi and Athens, it is committed to the charge, not of virgins, but of widows past the age of marriage. And if by any chance it goes out, as at Athens during the tyranny of Aristion​ the sacred lamp is said to have been extinguished, and at Delphi when the temple was burned by the Medes, and as during the Mithridatic and the Roman civil wars the altar was demolished and the fire extinguished, then they say it must not be kindled again from other fire, but made fresh and new, by lighting a pure and unpolluted flame from the rays of the sun. And this they usually effect by means of metallic mirrors, the concavity of which is made to follow the sides of an isosceles rectangular triangle, and which converge from their circumference to a single point in the centre. When, therefore, these are placed opposite the sun, so that its rays, as they fall upon them from all sides, are collected and concentrated at the centre, the air itself is rarefied there, and very light and dry substances placed there quickly blaze up from its resistance, the sun's rays now acquiring the substance and force of fire. Some, moreover, are of the opinion that nothing but this perpetual fire is guarded by the sacred virgins; while some say that certain sacred objects, which none others may behold, are kept in concealment by them. What may lawfully be learned and told about these things, I have written in my Life of Camillus."

-Plutarch, The Life of Numa

[scatteredthoughts2]

A WALK AMONG THE TOMBSTONES.

I took a walk among the tombstones,

Among the ghosts and their ancient bones,

Reading epitaphs, all weathered and worn,

With the dates of their deaths, and the dates they were born.

Families together in the shape of a heart,

For even in death, they are not apart,

The grave of a mother, all alone as can be,

Her husband and sons all buried at sea.

The grave of a baby, who was taken so young,

Her life she did lose, before it begun,

A father and mother, along every day,

Their children upped roots and have all moved away.

Some graves have flowers, all fresh and in bloom,

Their tombstones are shining, amidst all the gloom,

Some stones are crooked and ready to fall,

Then no one will know who lies there at all.

There are graves just outside the walls of this place,

Innocent souls who died in disgrace,

No peace for them in consecrated ground,

No trace of their passing, is here to be found.

Some graves have tombstones that reach to the sky,

Pillars of marble, offensive to spy,

But one thing's for certain, and I'm sure I'm right,

Of those inside and outside, all their bones will be white.

@Ambrose Harte

@Scattered Thoughts

[windvexer]

cleansing as fate-changing and thrifting as death work

Up late and having silly little thoughts. Began replying to another post but started talking a lot about death and didn't want to be weird on someone else's post.

I think that magical cleansing is supposed to be that thing that can remove energy from prior events.

I think that's a part of the very profound magic of consecration. To make something magic is (in the way I work, at least) to end its prior life and rebirth that object into a new trajectory - a new path of fate. You close the door on what it used to be and, as a witch, choose a new fate for it.

And I think inasmuch as witches meddle with fate, that's what cleansing is too.

Not fate as in, the iron-clad railroad tracks of destiny. If those even exist.

I guess when I say fate I mean, trajectory. The path something is on. The metaphysical dust and pollen that marks where the object once came from, that a witch can sniff out as plain as day.

I think that sometimes, cleansing shouldn't be considered to be the metaphysical version of scrubbing something with soap and water. I think that cleansing is sometimes best framed as psychopompic; that the witch is ushering in a gentle, sweet death for the old life of that object, and rebirthing the object into a new life that is innocent and pure.

The cleansing isn't one of scooping up and tossing out crude "energies," but of cleansing that object of its own past, it's old future, and giving it a new present and a new path to walk.

In a sense, cleansing can also be healing and releasing. Perhaps for a witch, thrifting an object is an observation of death craft: stopping at purgatory and finding an object ready to be reborn again.

And I don't think any of this is very hard to achieve. I think that by virtue of being a witch, you can do it. I think you can cleanse this way just by words, or with a little incense, or with fresh water. It isn't that there must be some special fate-meddling spell;

I think you've just got to know what it is you're doing. That you can say to yourself, yes - with a thirty second charm, with a rhyming couplet and a stick of incense, I have the power to meddle with fate. I'm allowed to choose what I think is best for this object, and what I choose will be woven into that grand tapestry. And - snip the thread, weave something new.

Easy, easy.