#against witchcraft

[myremnantarmy]

[jameslmartello]

Pray With Me: Prayer for Trafficking Witches

[helloparkerrose]

[psychopomp-recital]

Unpopular Opinion Time

The doodle you make or the picrew you use, the poorly executed poetry or basic bare bones prayer will ALWAYS be better than AI generated offerings.

I am sick of having my feed flooded with practitioners, pagans and other polytheists using AI. Specifically deities like Brigid should never be offered AI in my opinion, it’s essentially a slap in the face.

AI generated spells aren’t shit, it’s what a computer assumes will work based off of what it can gather from internet trends and research. MAKE IT YOURSELF, ask a human for help anything but AI.

There is no place for Artificial Intelligence in these spaces.

[the-colourful-witch]

💀Professor Moody💀

The grumpiest, most two-faced teacher our trio ever had… (literally) I have to say, I absolutely loved the character in book 4, and continued to love him after. Very cool👌🏻

[ellswritings]

About Time

Harry Potter x Gryffindor!Reader

TW: Harry being jealous, Y/N is really ‘that girl,’ fluff.

╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The announcement of the Yule Ball sent the Hogwarts student body into a frenzy. Professor McGonagall’s proclamation during breakfast was met with gasps, whispers, and cheers. Even the more reserved Ravenclaws exchanged eager glances over their plates.

“Now remember,” McGonagall said, her tone stern as she surveyed the Hall, “this is a formal event. Dress robes will be required, and students are expected to conduct themselves with decorum.”

A chorus of whispers erupted across the Great Hall. Y/N L/N, sitting with Ron, Hermione, and Harry at the Gryffindor table, raised her brows.

“Formal event, huh? Hope you boys have your frilly dress robes ready,” she teased, nudging Harry’s arm.

Harry smirked. “I don’t even know how to dance.”

“Figures,” she quipped, leaning closer with a mischievous glint. “Can’t wait to see you step on someone's toes all night.”

Ron groaned, ignoring their banter. “I just hope my mum didn’t send me anything embarrassing.”

“You’ll look like a prince, I’m sure,” Y/N teased, before turning to Hermione. “What about you? Got anyone in mind to ask you yet?”

Hermione flushed but quickly steered the conversation away. “The Ball is meant to unite the schools. You might want to think about representing Gryffindor without making a scene.”

Y/N put a hand to her chest, feigning offense. “Me? Make a scene? When have I ever—”

“Don’t answer that,” Harry interjected quickly, earning a grin from her.

It was moments like this—lighthearted and filled with their easy camaraderie—that made Y/N’s dynamic with Harry so unique. Their teasing often bordered on flirtation, though neither would ever admit it.

The moment McGonagall’s announcement ended, Y/N became a focal point for Yule Ball chatter, much to her bemusement. Boys seemed to appear out of nowhere, all vying for her attention.

Seamus Finnigan caught her in the common room first. “Y/N,” he said, bowing dramatically, “let me take you to the Yule Ball and save everyone else the heartache.”

She laughed, patting his cheek. “Nice try, Seamus, but I’ll have to pass.”

“I’m crushed,” he said, clutching his chest theatrically before retreating with a grin.

Later, Michael Corner stopped her outside Charms, stammering through his request. “Y-Y/N, I was wondering if maybe you’d, uh, go to the Ball with me?”

Y/N smiled kindly. “Michael, that’s sweet of you, but I’ve already got someone in mind.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, cheeks burning as he scurried away.

But the real kicker came when Viktor Krum approached her after lunch one afternoon. His imposing figure seemed to create a vacuum of silence as students watched the Durmstrang champion approach her.

“Y/N,” he said, his thick accent wrapping around her name. “I vould like to take you to the Yule Ball.”

She tilted her head, surprised but not flustered. “That’s quite the offer, Viktor. Why me?”

“You are... strong. Confident,” he said simply. “And very beautiful.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she replied, smirking. “But I’m afraid I have to say no.”

Krum looked genuinely surprised. “You do not vant to go?”

“I’m flattered,” she said sincerely. “But I’ve got my eyes on someone else.”

Viktor nodded respectfully. “You are honest. I admire that.”

​​Harry’s jealousy simmered for days. He couldn’t help but notice how Y/N seemed to glide through the chaos, turning down every suitor with grace and humor. It was maddening, especially since he couldn’t summon the courage to ask her himself.

“What’s stopping you?” Hermione asked one evening in the common room after he’d spent several minutes glaring at Cedric Diggory, who had been talking to Y/N outside.

“She’s got better options,” Harry mumbled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Harry. If she wanted to go with Krum or Diggory, she would have said yes already.”

Ron chimed in, his mouth full of Chocolate Frogs. “Yeah, but what if she says no? Imagine the embarrassment.”

“Helpful, Ron,” Hermione snapped before turning to Harry. “You won’t know unless you try.”

As the days went on, The Chosen One wasn’t sure when it started, but he couldn’t seem to look away when Y/N entered the room. It was almost painful to watch her interact with others, especially when those others seemed to linger too long or laugh a little too hard at her jokes.

Take breakfast, for example. She was laughing at something George Weasley had said, and her laughter drew half the Great Hall’s attention. George smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. Whatever he said next made her snort, her hand lightly smacking his shoulder.

Harry frowned into his porridge. “What’s so funny?”

Ron looked up from his plate. “What?”

“Over there,” Harry said, nodding toward the Weasley twins and Y/N.

Ron shrugged. “Dunno. George probably made some ridiculous joke about Blast-Ended Skrewts. Why?”

“No reason,” Harry muttered, stabbing at his food.

Hermione, ever observant, arched a brow. “You know, for someone who doesn’t care, you’re awfully focused on her.”

Harry glared. “I’m not focused. She’s just… loud.”

“Oh, yes, it’s definitely her volume that has you glowering like a thundercloud,” Hermione said dryly.

A week before the Ball, Y/N found herself heading to the library to escape the endless string of admirers. The quiet sanctuary of the shelves was a welcome reprieve until she spotted none other than Harry Potter, buried in a book that he looked thoroughly uninterested in.

“Since when do you study this hard?” she teased, dropping into the seat across from him.

Harry jumped, nearly knocking his inkpot over. “I could ask you the same. Don’t you have another suitor to fend off?”

“Not at the moment,” she said with a smirk. “Figured I’d hide out for a bit.”

“Hide?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“Yeah, you know, to avoid the inevitable ‘Y/N, please go to the Ball with me’ speech from yet another poor soul.”

Harry tried to smile, but it came out strained. “Sounds... exhausting.”

“It is,” she replied with a sigh, leaning back in her chair. “So, what are you doing here?”

“Trying to figure out how to dance without looking like an idiot,” he muttered, his cheeks turning pink.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “Harry, you’ve faced trolls, Dementors, and a giant snake. Surely, a little dancing isn’t going to kill you.”

“It might if I step on someone’s foot,” he quipped, finally cracking a genuine smile.

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. “You know, you don’t have to be perfect at everything. Just... have fun with it.”

“I’ll try,” he said, though his tone was doubtful.

“Well,” she said, standing and grabbing his hand, “no time like the present.”

“What?” Harry stammered as she pulled him into the open space between the shelves.

“Let’s practice,” she said, placing one of his hands on her waist and holding the other. “It’s not that hard. Just follow my lead.”

Harry’s heart was racing as he tried to focus on her instructions. But it was difficult to think straight with Y/N so close, her laugh filling the quiet library as she teased him for his clumsiness.

“See? You’re getting the hang of it,” she said after a few minutes.

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, looking everywhere but at her.

She stopped, her eyes narrowing. “Alright, Potter. What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she replied, crossing her arms. “Is this about the Ball?”

Harry hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the words.

Before he could respond, Madam Pince appeared, glaring at them. “No dancing in the library!”

Y/N grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him toward the exit with a laugh. “Guess we’ll have to finish this later.”

Harry’s anger ended up reaching new heights when he stumbled upon Y/N and Cedric in the courtyard. They were standing under a tree, laughing about something Harry couldn’t hear. He hesitated behind a pillar, close enough to see but far enough to avoid being noticed.

“So,” Cedric said, leaning casually against the trunk, “are you always this difficult to impress, or am I just unlucky?”

Y/N smirked. “I have high standards. You’re doing alright so far, though.”

Cedric placed a hand over his chest in mock relief. “Good to know. I was worried I’d have to resort to reciting sonnets.”

“Oh, please,” Y/N teased, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as the poetry type.”

Cedric feigned offense. “And what type am I, then?”

“The charming Quidditch star who thinks his smile is enough to get by,” she said, though her tone was playful.

“Well,” Cedric replied, grinning, “is it working?”

Y/N laughed. “Maybe a little.”

“Enough to get a yes to the Yule Ball?” Cedric asked, his tone shifting to something more sincere.

Y/N hesitated, her smile softening. “Cedric, you’re sweet. And honestly, if I didn’t already have someone in mind, I’d probably say yes.”

Cedric tilted his head, a curious look in his eyes. “Someone in mind, huh? Lucky bloke. Should I be worried?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. But thank you for asking—it means a lot.”

Harry, still hidden, felt his stomach churn. She had someone in mind? Was it someone else he didn’t know about?

The revelation haunted Harry for the rest of the day. Who could she mean? George? Fred? Or someone else entirely?

By the time they reached the common room that evening, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “So,” he began, trying to sound casual, “you’ve been spending a lot of time with Cedric lately.”

Y/N looked up from her Charms textbook, clearly amused. “Not really. Why?”

“No reason,” Harry said quickly, though his tone betrayed him.

Hermione groaned, setting down her quill. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Harry. Just ask her already!”

“Ask me what?” Y/N asked, her brows knitting together.

Harry’s face turned crimson. “Nothing. Forget it.”

For the next few days, Harry avoided her entirely. Y/N noticed immediately, her confusion growing with each passing hour. By the time Defense Against the Dark Arts rolled around, she’d had enough.

When Harry excused himself to the bathroom mid-class, Y/N followed, cornering him just as he passed an empty broom closet.

“Inside,” she said, tugging him by the sleeve before he could protest.

“Y/N, what are you—”

“Shut it,” she snapped, closing the door behind them. “What is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly, avoiding her gaze.

“Don’t lie to me, Potter,” she said, crossing her arms. “You’ve been acting weird ever since—oh.” Her eyes narrowed. “This is about Cedric, isn’t it?”

Harry’s jaw clenched. “It’s not—”

“Don’t bother denying it,” she cut him off. “What, are you jealous?”

Harry’s eyes flashed. “Why would I be jealous? You’ve been flirting with half the school.”

Her brows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, his voice rising. “Every guy in Hogwarts and Durmstrang is lining up to ask you, and you just—just laugh and smile like it’s nothing.”

“It is nothing!” she shouted back. “I turned all of them down, Harry! Including Cedric.”

Harry froze. “You... did?”

“Yes,” she said, her tone softer now but still firm. “Because there’s only one person I want to go with.”

“Who?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

She stared at him for a long moment before stepping closer. “You, you idiot.”

Harry’s heart stuttered in his chest. “Me?”

“Obviously,” she said, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Now, are you going to ask me, or do I have to keep turning people down?”

Swallowing his nerves, Harry met her gaze. “Y/N, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?”

Her smile widened. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Before he could process what was happening, she leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was both gentle and electric. When they pulled apart, Harry couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face.

“About time,” she teased, tugging him out of the closet. “Now let’s get back to class before anyone notices we’re gone.”

The Yule Ball ended up being magical, but for Harry, the real highlight was dancing with Y/N under the enchanted ceiling, knowing they’d both found exactly what they were looking for.

[silverity]

i'm gonna make my painful contribution to The Discourse and say i do not see the harm in women reclaiming female centric spirituality.

i am not a religious person nor do i want to become one but spirituality is also about culture, community and celebration. i would much rather women celebrate nature, the female form, and "divine femininity" than patriarchal phallocentric religions. that "divine femininity" is used pejoratively has always tickled me considering we live in a world hooked on divine masculinity. the old matricentric religions are really the only form of female culture devoid of male-centric worship we can grasp at, since men have dominated our belief systems for thousands of years. and women learning about the old religions is the best way to unravel the myth of the male creator, and realise it is really women who are the closest thing to a "god" on Earth.

there's also an element here, which i think is deeply capitalist, patriarchal, and a little racist, of people considering the connection to & celebration of nature as somehow primitive. i think that the lifestyles most of us live now, with none of us knowing anything about the land around us is actually very infantile and regressive for humanity as a whole. the ways of life we consider "primitive" (primitive communism, matrilineal societies) are really what we need to find ways to return to post-capitalism. they were in tune to nature, sustainable, and much more communal & equal. how can nature be primitive or ascientific when science *is* in nature, and the practices of these old societies were early scientific discoveries & practices. as a Black person, my community is often trying to reclaim our lost practices. it makes sense to me that women would try to do so too.

[diet-cokette]

kind of hate actual lifestyle movements that get co-opted into an aesthetic. like. minimalism, zero-waste, veganism, witchcraft, etc. they all are basically free ways to live life more simply. but all these corporations and influencers co-opted the movements and made them fucking aesthetics to be packaged and sold.

only buying what you need/really want is minimalism, but no, you need to make your house looked stripped down and ugly and beige to be a True Minimalist. a PBJ is vegan. but no, you need sunflower seed butter and special chia seed jam and sprouted bread to be a True Vegan. re-using your plastic tupperware grandma gave you is literally zero-waste, but no, you need NO PLASTIC WHATSOEVER OR YOULL GO TO ZERO WASTE HELL. Most witchcraft spells can be used with items from around the house, but no you need like 30 crystals, exotic herbs, and several tarot card sets to be a True Witch.

Honestly, it disgusts me. The whole point of these lifestyles is to be anti-consumerist, anti-status quo, anti-industrial. The whole point is to be pro-independence, pro-earth, pro-humanity, pro-animal. But regardless, the capitalist greed machine never stops. Shouldn't be surprised because even holy days like Christmas or Samhain (Halloween) they make into a marketplace.

[ytace]

The Firecracker Conundrum

[ I honestly recommend playing this song while reading haha ]

Warning: Slight swearing

Pairings: Professor Lupin X Student Reader [Platonic]

Summary: You, an apeshit student who's known to cause trouble in hogwarts, might have just started a firework mayhem in Lupin’s class when Umbridge came in to send someone to detention

[Characters included don't go by timeline]

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was filled with the usual chatter of students walking in and preparing for their next lesson.

Your Professor, Remus Lupin, was sorting through some papers at his desk. Often casting occasional glances at the door, giving slight nods acknowledging the students who walked in, greeting him. Before his eyes were once drawn to a familiar face — the notorious and infamous troublemaker, whose name is often heard through the halls of Hogwarts.

Whispers From mouth to ear, words of your pranks got out quickly and people often talk about stunts that you used to pull.

As you sauntered in, you had a bouquet of what seemed like "harmless flowers". However, Lupin's keen eyes quickly noted the subtle signs of mischief. The flowers were, in fact, cleverly disguised firecrackers and fireworks purchased from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

As you made your way to your seat, Lupin's mouth curled up into a smirk as he decided to taunt you abit, Attempting to see if he could make you spill the beans.

"Ah, [Y/N], welcome to class," Lupin said, his tone light and teasing. "I see you’ve come prepared with a lovely bouquet. Are you planning on decorating the classroom for the occasion? Interior Too boring for you I assume?"

"Well Infact Professor, the Interior of the class seems... A little dull. I thought that I'd do us a favour and try to lighten up the mood abit!" [Y/N] replied with a sly grin, balancing on the edge of their desk.

Some giggles and suppressed laughters could be heard around the class over your witty remark, knowing you most likely have something in plan.

“Just a friendly reminder,” Lupin said, catching [Y/N]’s eye, “we’re here to focus on learning defensive spells today.. I trust you’ll save your little floral arrangements for another time?"

“Of course, Professor,” [Y/N] said with an exaggerated bow. “I'll try my best to resist the urge to spice things up.”

.-.

As Lupin began the lesson, he guided the students through practical exercises and theoretical discussions. Despite his serious tone, his eyes occasionally darted towards [Y/N], who was playing their part well by pretending to pay attention but clearly scheming something.

The lesson continued, with students practicing defensive spells. The Sound of students muttering spells, and the flipping of pages filled the air that surrounded you. As you looked up catching the sight of Professor Lupin offering corrections and encouragement to students who needed it.

The air of normalcy was then abruptly broken when the door to the classroom came flying open, and Dolores Umbridge, one of the professors in hogwarts, strutted in.

“Professor Lupin,” she said in a disdainful tone, “I need to speak with one of your students. Is Emily here?”

As Umbridge eyes darted around the class before spotting Emily then approaching her

She grabbed onto Emily's Robes. "Your Coming With Me, Ms Emily." She said before further dragging her away. She was apparently called out to detention just because she was talking in umbridge classes earlier.

"PROFESSOR! PLEASE!-"

The whole class stared at the scene unveiling infront of them, Unable to intervene as most of them wouldn't want to know what happens Under Umbridge Wrath. Who knew what she would do if someone were to intervene.

But However, You didn't take the chance for someone to be simply dragged away to hell under such small circumstances. You appeared nonchalant, but your mind was already working on a plan.

Lupin’s gaze met [Y/N]’s, a hint of amusement in his eyes. As you dramatically threw a stack of textbooks onto the floor.

"Fuck this shit!" You exclaimed before you groaned loudly, catching Umbridge’s attention.

"Excuse me?" She slowly let's go of Emily's Robes, before she walked towards you.

“She's being unjustly accused! I demand a trial by wizard’s jury!”

You declared before pointing towards Umbridge with the Bouquet of flowers in your hands.

Umbridge, irritated but trying to maintain her composure, reached out towards You.

“I'll deal with Emily Later. You come with me, now.” she demanded before a flick of her wand, casting a spell to manoeuvre the bouquet of flowers from your hands to hers.

"And I'll Be taking these for myself" she said as she looked at the different coloured flowers with slight adoration.

In a swift move, You used your wand to set off a spell that ignited the hidden fireworks.

"Incendio!"

The "harmless bouquet of flowers" exploded into a dazzling array of lights, filling the room with an eruption of sparks and colors. The classroom was instantly transformed into a scene of chaotic brilliance. Fireworks whizzed around, and sparkling lights dazzled and danced across the walls.

The crackling and popping sound of the fireworks shooting off in every direction sends the whole class bustling with different sounds of chatter that was filled with amazement and awe. Not only was the class filled with laughters and cheers, it was the deffinition of a perfect ambience.

Umbridge, caught off guard, looked around in disbelief as Lupin’s face broke into an incredulous grin. He was clearly enjoying the spectacle that you have just pulled, trying to hold back a chuckle.

“Honestly, [Y/N],” Lupin called out over the commotion, “I’m beginning to think you might be a more talented performer than a student.”

"Oh? What if I'm both?" You replied before you held out your wand casting a spell to close up all the classroom windows plunging the classroom into semi-darkness.

Amidst the chaos, Umbridge frantically tries to find her wand that she dropped after getting caught off guard by your little trick. The room, now illuminated by the remaining fireworks that was still lit up with the sparks glowing like it's a magical lightshow, it almost looked like a starlit wonderland. The effect was mesmerizing, even as Umbridge’s temper flared.

Lupin, enjoying the spectacle, moved among the students, ensuring everyone was safe and helping to contain the situation. He couldn’t suppress his chuckle anymore as he watched the fireworks slowly dim, leaving behind a soft, magical glow. After the last of the effects was gone, Lupin took out his wand. With a wave, all the windows were now reopened, filling the once dim classroom with light.

“Alright Class, Settle Down.” Lupin said, as the students all went back to their seats. Lupin turned his attention back onto restoring order. The classroom was slowly returning to its original state.

Both in an impressed and teasing tone, Lupin approached you. “I must say, your sense of timing is impeccable. If only I could reward you with extra credit for such creativity.."

You gave a cheeky grin, brushing the remnants of fireworks off your robes. “Well, if you’re offering, I might just show up to class on time next week.”

As Umbridge got a hold of her wand, her impeccable anger was clear that she wanted [Y/N] Gone. She was even more pissed at the fact that she had just been embarrassed infront of the entire class, adding onto how Lupin did not offer her any assistance when the mayhem started.

It was time that she used her own way of dealing you herself.

Before she even got the chance to grab you, with a final flourish, You leaped out of the high classroom window, deftly landing on Your broomstick that was cleverly hidden outside and bellow of the class window.

"Till Next Time Professor!" You yelled from outside the classroom windows. With a wink and a smile, [Y/N] disappeared gliding off on their broomstick leaving Lupin shaking his head in amusement.

The Students all leaped out of their seat, to run off to the edge of the windows, witnessing [Y/N] Fly off into the air as they let out a huge playful laughter punching the air in triumph and victory.

Lupin watched from afar as [Y/N] made their escape, a mixture of admiration in his eyes. Before he said softly

"And the show goes on..”

[generallyhux]

Extra Lessons • Professor Tom Riddle

Summary: Professor Riddle gives his favorite student a lesson in Occlumency

A/N: NFSW, originally posted to AO3

Enjoy! :)

*******************************************************

October 1955

Grading papers was Tom Riddle ’s least favorite task as a professor. If these were the students that were to go out and become the next generation of the Wizarding World, they were all doomed. Hardly any of them could comprehend the difference between the Expulso and the Reductor Curses, and their attempts at describing hexes were laughable.

His original design in getting the position was, of course, to seduce Hogwarts’ young minds and accentuate the power of dark magic. Instead, he found that there was not one single specimen in this castle that he would even consider worthy of his time and expertise.

Except for her.

Riddle looked down at the essay he was currently reading. The penmanship was elegant, letters looping together in a way that was just begging to be read. Her essays were the only ones worth reading, the only ones that would ever receive his praise.

Everyone called her Kitty, though she always used her full name on his assignments - Catherine Carr. A seventh-year in Ravenclaw and the top of her class, she excelled at everything. Her knowledge on most subjects was beyond those above her in both experience and age.

He, however, had much he wanted to teach her. He knew that she could be useful to him someday, but to ensure she was up to par, it wouldn’t hurt to mold her into the witch he needed by his side. Riddle had to test her - prove that she was truly made of sterner stuff.

He knew just the way to do that.

At the conclusion of his next lesson, he waited for most of the class to exit. Kitty still sat at her table near the front, gingerly placing her books into her bag as she often did.

“Miss Carr,” Riddle said, “would you mind staying? There’s something I have to discuss with you.”

She nodded, “Of course, Professor Riddle.”

He led the way to his office with Kitty following a few paces behind, ringing her clammy hands behind her. To her understanding, Professor Riddle had never asked for a student to stay behind.

Entering the small office, he offered Kitty a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. The room itself was dark, lit by a few candles, but the young witch could make out some titles of the books that littered the room and stuffed the shelves against the walls. She was only a little surprised to find most of the material covered in these books was very dark magic.

Now seated at his desk, Riddle looked at the girl across from him, but her eyes couldn’t seem to meet him.

“You are a very bright girl,” Riddle started. “Perhaps more intelligent than anyone I have taught before.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kitty said. Her pale complexion turned slightly pink at the compliment.

Riddle continued, “Your OWL scores were impeccable and it is my understanding that upon your graduation, you wish to work for the Ministry.”

Kitty nodded, unsure of where this was heading.

“As a seventh-year, you are preparing for your career and I want to aid in that preparation.”

“In what way?” Kitty asked.

“Are you familiar with Occlumency?” Riddle replied. He paid special attention to the way her eyes lit up at the word.

“It’s the act of closing your mind against external forces,” she stated. Kitty had read many books on the subject, but performing the mental block was something beyond her capacity.

“Not only is it useful, it is a rare and difficult skill. It is not a part of the curriculum, but I believe you to be an inquisitive witch and would prefer to teach you in a way I see fit.” Riddle’s words rolled smoothly off of his tongue.

This was not true, but she would never know; this was for purely selfish reasons. Catherine Carr was the first student in his five years of teaching that displayed signs of dedication to the craft. Perhaps she was a little too innocent at the given time, but he could mold her into the witch she ought to be.

He was aware of the impact he had on these young students - the female ones in particular - and Miss Carr was no exception. Riddle noticed the way her lips formed a small smile when he called on her to answer challenging questions and how a tinge of pink dusted her pale complexion when he praised her swift responses.

She was rendered speechless at her professor’s offer, but hastily accepted the opportunity with a graciousness that almost made Riddle feel something like guilt. But nothing she could have done would stop his efforts now.

He sent Kitty on her way with some mind-blocking exercises to work on and scheduled their first session for the following week. Tom’s eyes followed her down the corridor until she turned from view.

Lust was not a trait Riddle had though he possessed. In his post-Hogwarts years, he had found himself in the company of a few young witches that turned into little more than one-night stands. He considered his wild oats to be sowed; the presence of Miss Carr stirred something deep within him, however.

It disgusted him to think he was no better than any other man, desiring a younger woman clad in a short skirt. But she was different. She was rather plain, he thought, but her intelligence made her incredibly desirable.

A week later he was sitting at his desk when the soft knock came at the door.

“Come in.”

Kitty entered the office, fidgeting slightly with her wand. “Good evening, Professor.”

“Good evening, Miss Carr. You may have a seat,” Riddle motioned to the armchair in the corner of the room by the bookshelves and the young witch sat down.

He continued, “I hope you have been working on the exercises I taught you, they’ll prove very beneficial as I begin prodding into your mind.”

At that, Kitty shivered slightly. Prodding into her mind? She knew what Occlumency entailed, but what if he found… those thoughts?

Yes, she was the brightest witch in her class and yes, she thought herself above the dating scene of Hogwarts, but who hadn’t had a crush on their teacher? And who hadn’t had thoughts of doing scandalous things with their very young and attractive professor?

“Let us begin,” Riddle said. “Legilimens!”

Unsurprising to Kitty, he was able to perform the spell wandlessly and therefore she was taken off guard when she felt him flood into her mind. All attempts to clear her thoughts were thwarted by his presence.

An 11-year-old Kitty sat on a stool in the Great Hall as the Sorting Hat was placed on her head. Almost in an instant the hat cried out, “Ravenclaw!” The Hall erupted into cheers and the young girl giddily made her way to her house’s table.

A few years later, she was seated in the courtyard working on homework when a gaggle of girls in her class scurried by. They were giggling quite loudly over something Kitty was not privy to. However, any question she had was answered when the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor crossed the courtyard and the girls were once more wracked with squeals and red faces. Kitty, too, found the appeal, but she did her blushing in private.

The scene shifted forward to her sixth-year where Kitty found herself in the library scribbling out the final sentence in her essay with a sigh. She rubbed her bleary eyes, careful not to transfer any of the ink from her hands to her face. Suddenly she felt a pair of eyes on her and looked up to meet Professor Riddle staring deeply from across the way. She was slightly taken aback from the attention, causing her breath to catch in her throat and her cheeks to flush a dark shade of red. This was not lost on her professor who began to smirk before swiftly exiting the library.

Once more her surroundings blurred around her and focused on the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Kitty was sitting at her usual spot near the front hanging on to every word spilling out of Professor Riddle’s mouth. Her head rested in her hand, eyes not moving from Riddle ’s form. She didn’t notice she was gawking until her friend sitting next to her gave Kitty a quick nudge to her arm and her attention shifted to the exam on her desk.

Riddle was jolted back to his dimly lit office and in an uncharacteristic move, he leaned back on his desk for support. Clearly Kitty had not done her best at blocking him from her mind, but after viewing the last memory, she had forcefully casted him out.

Kitty appeared out of breath and flushing a deep shade of crimson. While she had never mastered eye contact, Riddle noticed she refused to look up at him.

Feeling he needed to exploit the poor girl even more, he pressed on. “I could feel you shutting me out near the end which is a step in the right direction. This time, I’m going to push even further.”

“Please, sir,” Kitty said quietly, “I don’t think I can do any more.”

Riddle smirked, “Why ever not, Miss Carr? What else would I see if we continued?”

Kitty’s mouth went dry. What was he insinuating?

He continued, “That last thought was very interesting. May I ask why that was significant to you?”

“Erm - I don’t remember what it was,” she lied. Abruptly standing up from the chair, she slowly walked towards the door. “Thank you, Professor, for the lesson, but I really should be going now.”

As she reached for the handle, Riddle silently flicked his wand and the door locked before she had the chance to open it. In two strides he was across his office and facing Kitty which prompted a squeak from the girl.

“I think we have something to discuss.”

“P-Professor Riddle,” she stuttered, flushing even deeper.

Riddle grabbed her wrists and held them above her head. He was usually much better at composing himself, but seldom was he in a position of such control; he was beginning to feel something stirring within himself. Something that would not be contained for much longer.

“What’s wrong, Miss Carr? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”

She was trying to respond, he noticed, but nothing was coming out. He was a great deal taller than her and when he looked into her eyes, he saw how dilated her pupils were. Kitty was aroused and there was nothing she could say that would deny it.

The young witch let out another pathetic mewl, but it only strengthened Riddle ’s desire for her.

“Please, sir.” It was barely a whisper, but he clung to her words.

“Please what?” Riddle asked. His empty hand was now cupping Kitty’s neck, thumb rubbing against her pulse point slowly. Her heartbeat was rapid.

“I need… I need…”

“What do you need, Miss Carr?” Riddle practically purred in her ear.

“You, sir.”

That was all Riddle wanted to hear. Within a second his mouth was on hers, parting her lips with his tongue. She tasted sweet - bubblegum. He was briefly reminded that she was barely seventeen. And his student.

The most wonderful noises were escaping Kitty’s throat and melodically filling the dim office as his mouth traveled to her neck making sure to suck hard on the most sensitive parts. Riddle flicked his wand once more, wordlessly placing a silencing charm on the room to keep her sounds from getting out. Perhaps it was juvenile, leaving the trail of dark purple marks on her previously unblemished skin, but the thought of her looking at them and being reminded of who made them was exquisite.

Riddle led them back to his desk. As if she were a doll, he picked her up by the waist and placed her on top, nudging himself between her legs. His mouth was attacking hers now with such force that when they broke away, her lips were red and puffy. Kitty’s eyes were wide - frightened, almost, as if her mind was catching up to what was happening, but Riddle, sensing her discomfort, simply stroked her cheek with a warm hand.

“What’s wrong, kitten,” he tutted, “I thought this is what you wanted?”

At that, her hips practically bucked forward, making contact with his throbbing member. His hands snaked down to grab at her exposed thighs. He hadn’t noticed how far her skirt had ridden up during their interaction and he couldn’t help but let out a groan at the sight of her exposed milky-white thighs gripping his waist.

“Please, sir! I need you inside of me,” Kitty begged as her professor continued to grind into her warm center.

Riddle silently agreed with the girl, but he wasn’t done playing with her just yet. He wanted to hear those sweet sounds spilling from his favorite student’s lips a little while longer - wanted to hear her whine and beg for him.

“Oh, my sweet little kitten,” he moaned, “you’ve been so patient - so good for me. Perhaps you deserve a treat.”

Slithering up her smooth thighs, his fingers latched around her panties, slowly dragging them down until they fell to the floor at his feet. He leaned down to inspect her core and felt his stiff cock throb even more than before. A dusting of hair covered her swollen folds which were covered with a sheen of arousal. He gave her a quick kiss to the mouth before gently laying her down on his desk.

He parted her lips and lazily rubbed circles on her mound with his thumb, causing Kitty to release another explicit moan.

“Oh, Professor,” she whined.

Looking up at her he raised his eyebrow quizzically, “What do you want, my pet?”

He began to make quicker loops around her pulsating clit. All she could get out was, “More!”

As he himself wanted a release, he obliged her request and got to work. Replacing his thumb with his mouth, he sucked and licked at her center, his supple tongue moving in rhythmically. Once again, the sounds coming from the young witch were obscene, causing Riddle to keep at his pace.

After a few minutes, he let his tongue slip into her tight entrance, groaning at the thought of being inside of his favorite student - his little pet. Hungrily he lapped at the wetness gushing out of her.

“You’re being such a good girl, aren’t you?” Riddle hummed into her and spread her legs even further, “Keep those legs open for me, kitten.”

“Oh, sir, I’m gonna - I’m gonna-”

Riddle removed himself from Kitty’s center which elicited a cry of displeasure from the girl.

“Not yet, my pet,” he chastised. “Not before I’ve had my fun.”

He made quick work of removing her blouse and skirt before undressing himself. His large member sprang free from its constraints making Kitty’s eyes to widen in disbelief and her face reddened.

Her small hand reached out to take a hold of his cock and the contact alone made Riddle’s hips jerk involuntarily.

Riddle stroked his student’s cheek once again before slipping a thumb between her still swollen lips. Her tongue swirled around the digit and she looked up at her professor unsure.

“That’s right, my kitten,” Riddle nodded, “Get on your knees for me.”

The young witch obliged, kneeling in front of him and tentatively opening her mouth to let him in. Riddle hissed at the contact from her warm, velvety mouth. His fingers tangled themselves into her hair and he brought her head further down on his cock.

He continued to pound into Kitty’s throat mercilessly, relishing the slight choking noises that came with it and the tears that formed at the corners of her eyes. He felt himself getting close and pulled out before he could spill into her.

Riddle pulled Kitty up from the floor and unceremoniously bent her over his desk, exposing even more of her pale and unmarked flesh which he quickly palmed with a groan. Her whining was getting louder and her legs parted as an invitation, thighs wet with her slickness.

“What do you want, my sweet pet? Hmm?” Riddle cooed into her ear, giving her earlobe a nibble.

“You, sir,” she whimpered, “I need you.”

Riddle let out a chuckle, “And what do you need me to do?”

“I want you to - I need you -”

“C’mon, you can say it,” he murmured.

Her voice was barely a whisper, “I need you to fuck me, professor.”

That was all Riddle needed to hear. He reached down to collect Kitty’s juices and pumped his pulsating cock a few times with her slick. Lining up with her entrance he gave a tentative thrust, but her entrance was so tight he wasn’t able to get more than the tip in.

“So tight for me, kitten,” Riddle growled in her ear. “Is this your first time?”

She squeaked out an answer that Riddle took as an affirmative.

“I need you to relax for me, alright? Can you do that?”

Kitty gave a shaky nod, “Yes, sir.”

Gently pushing in further, Riddle bottomed out in her tight hole. His hands were grabbing her waist so hard he knew there would be bruises. He couldn’t believe how wet she was; the wet squelching noises and their loud moans that echoed in his office was like a symphony to his ears.

His hand slithered up from her middle to clutch her throat, forcing her to look up and make eye contact. Her mouth opened to let out a moan and he spat in it; her eyes rolled back in her head from pleasure.

“Oh - fuck - you’re being so good for me,” Riddle panted. He was teetering on the edge of coming and while he may be taking advantage of his young student, he wanted to at least make sure she came first.

She was clenching on his cock, getting close to the edge as well. While he wanted to savor her a little longer, he wanted to fill her pussy with his seed.

“Your cunt is so tight,” Riddle grunted. His free hand went to cup her sex and started to rub circles around her clit once again.

“Professor,” she cried, “I’m gonna come.”

“Come for me, kitten. Come on my cock.” Riddle’s thrusts quickened, helping her get to the point of release.

Within seconds her orgasm took over and Riddle felt her spasm all over his cock which sparked his own peak. Together their fluids mingled together and he collapsed on top of her, peppering light kisses on her shoulder.

He removed himself from her center and magicked them clean. Conjuring up a glass of water, he sat Kitty down on the armchair and helped her drink from it as he stroked her hair.

Riddle was the first to break the silence, “You were wonderful, Miss Carr.”

Though he had seen every part of her and had just been inside of her, she still had the decency to blush at the notion.

“Erm - thank you, Professor,” she mumbled, “for the lessons.”

“I think we may need to cover more material next week,” he smirked. After a few moments of letting the young witch catch her breath, he led her to the door, hand on the small of her back. “Have a good evening, Miss Carr.”

“Goodnight, Professor Riddle,” she smiled before leaving for her dormitory.

The young professor sat back at his desk, staring down at the surface where moments earlier he had been defiling his even younger student.

Riddle let out a sigh and went back to grading papers. He supposed if she was unwilling to turn to the Dark Arts, she would at least be a pleasant companion to keep around

[kelin-is-writing]

There are no words…

[jameslmartello]

Getting Attacked by the Occult (Jason Evert)

[thedansemacabres]

possibly controversial opinion, however, I am extremely wary of how people in witchy & pagan spaces are beginning to spiritualise ‘inner child work’. For those unknowing, inner child is a psychotherapy & IFS concept that seeks to provide therapy via metaphorical ‘parts’—the idea is that all of us have ‘parts’ that operate like a family unit. I won’t go into too much detail because I myself am not a licensed therapist, my biological mother is, but overall I am extremely wary of people trying to recommend courses/spells/rituals for a psychotherapy model especially without the guidance of someone actually trained in this. IFS can do serious damage even with a trained therapist, so why is it becoming a practice people are pushing as necessary in some spiritual spaces?

[geezerwench]

What to do if there's a witch at your door.

[cursecuelebre]

When I see AI art on this damn app especially paganism side of tumblr.

I used to follow a Hellenic polytheist account that was using AI making odd excuses that the Gods would be okay with it. Sure centuries people steal art but doesn’t mean it makes it okay to do so?? Morally and Ethically it does matter in this situation. Especially when these pagan artists are drawing as votive offerings and dedication to the gods of any pantheon. Last time I checked Hephaestus created stuff by hand and so did Athena, they didn’t yoink anything that wasn’t theirs and value anyone to make things by hand whether it is by digital art and I’m talking actual digital art created by people. That’s why I stay away from Ai tarot decks it ruins the environment and stealing people’s hard work and it makes me upset that these decks are $30-$50 almost $100 of 78 cards of stolen artwork compare to a deck that was hand drawn by an actual human being which I know they put their blood, sweat, and tears and energy within the deck.

Listen I ain’t an artist, but I like to draw and with time and patience you can get really good at it. From a pagan perspective and just common sense standpoint I just think of you spent a enough time drawing with a pencil on paper or a computer doing real digital artwork from your own head and hand, The gods will most appreciated the hardwork and effort put in a mediocre art piece that maybe took hours to do than a stolen art piece that took not even minutes to create.

[boymanmaletheshequel]

Thank you all for the support, I now have over 200 beautiful and powerful witches and pagans following my journey! Remember that now, more than ever, in an age where hateful and oppressive ideology is becoming increasingly prevalent and mainstream, is more crucial a time than ever to unite our communities! Many of us are Queer, trans, women, people of color, religious minorities, and other groups that in these coming years, not just in America but around the world, will likely begin to face oppression disproportionate to those with the privilege of fitting the fascist status quo. Unite your covens, talk to friends who share your beliefs and struggles, do everything you can to protect the remaining safe spaces we have online like tumblr and Bluesky, as they are becoming increasingly rare bastions in a siege of hate embracing social media platforms like Meta and Twitter. We as the oppressed and trodden, as witches and pagans, have been here before, and we have survived each and every time, which is to say we will again. I love you all, thank you for the support, and let’s continue to keep our communities strong and secure! 💙🏛️💙