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novaursa · 1 month ago

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Robert Baratheon x Targaryen!reader.

Aerys goes on his "everyone must burn" rant and his daughter tries unsuccessfully to talk him down. Finally, Jaime snaps and kills Aerys while ordering his father's men to hold the Princess back. She's not guilty, so he doesn't want her dead.

Robert claims the throne and dismisses Tywin's attempt to marry him to Cersei. Instead, Robert declares he'll "legitimatizes" his rule by marrying Rhaegar's sister, who is being held as a political prisoner. He's planning on using the smallfolks' love of her to soften the blow of taking the throne; if he kills her, there might be a riot he can't afford.

In the weeks Robert had spent settling into his new role as interim King, she's been depressed and inconsolable, especially after hearing of her mother's death. Not to mention just about everyone she loves has either betrayed her, died, or is out of her reach; Jaime, Rhaegar, Lyanna, Aerys, Rhaella, Arthur, Barristan, Viserys, Dany.

She's no longer speaking, hardly eating, and alternates between crying her eyes raw or staring numbly at nothing. She's barely sleeping. There is talk she'll starve herself. Hearing about Robert's plans doesn't do her fracturing psyche any favors, but it doesn't matter.

She sees memories of their relationship; meeting for the first time after he sees Lyanna and Rhaegar together; how cold he is to her. Running into her coming out of the library with an embarrsing book, which amuses him. Later finding her sketching him- teasing her instead of being embarrassed, finally seeing her instead of her twin. Still doesn't love her, though.

For all her lashing out at him, she still winds up at the alter.

3 three time skip and Targ Princess has given birth to her first child. It's the first hint of happiness she's shown in years and when Robert is let into the room, he's dumbfounded by how attractive her maternal side is to him.

The story ends with him trying to get closer, maybe under the guise of seeing the child and hoping she won't pull away when he finally touches her. Left open ended.

Thank you! Sorry for the original ask. I scrolled down it after you posted yoir response and went "Holy shit, that's a wall of words!"

I hope I shortened it enough. If not, I'll try again or you can cut anything you don't think adds to the story. Again, so sorry. And thank you if you choose to take on my request.

The Crown That Bled

Requests are closed

- Summary: He married you to keep the realm in line. You married him because you had no choice. And happiness is an elusive thing.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Robert Baratheon

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (just to be safe)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @idenyimimdenial

- A/N: So, this was still a little too overwhelming for a short story and I've struggled with what to keep and what to discard. This is what I've managed to write with the information provided. I hope this is something you had in mind.

The Sept of Baelor smelled of incense and wilting roses. Smoke curled from brass censers, spiraling toward the high-arched dome where sunlight bled through colored glass, staining the floor in hues of crimson and gold. The bells tolled dully in the distance, sounding more like a funeral dirge than a wedding celebration. The gathered nobles whispered in hushed tones, draped in velvets and silks, eyes darting toward the altar and the lone figure standing beside it—the King, newly crowned and wide-shouldered in his fur-lined cloak of black and gold, Robert Baratheon.

You were not there yet.

You sat in the chambers they'd locked you in, a gilded cage fit for a princess��cold and quiet, except for the caw of a raven outside the window and the steady creak of footsteps as guards paced the hall. Your reflection in the mirror looked like a ghost: hollowed eyes rimmed in red, skin pale and drawn from weeks of mourning and madness. Your silver-gold hair hung in limp strands, unbrushed. You barely remembered the last time you bathed or ate. The food they left was always taken away, untouched or barely picked at. The maids stopped trying to coax you. You no longer spoke to them, or anyone.

They had told you of your mother’s death three nights past, and the sound you made then had not been human. You’d torn the hem of your dress, your nails bloodied your own arms, your sobs had echoed like a broken harp string long after you collapsed onto the stone floor. Rhaella—your mother, the last steady thing in a world of fire and betrayal—was dead, her frail heart giving out after the news of her husband's fate and her son's. You had not wept since then. Not truly. You had simply… leaked tears, as though your soul had cracked and the sorrow slipped through the fissures, silent and endless.

When you first heard Robert intended to marry you, you had laughed. It was a horrible sound, brittle and dry. Then you screamed. Screamed so long your voice disappeared. You spat on the servant who brought the message, shattered a goblet against the wall, and threatened to throw yourself from the tower window. But none of it mattered. You were the last piece left on the board—the only one of value. And Robert, ever the brute, ever the warrior, had turned conqueror and king. He didn’t want Cersei Lannister, despite Tywin’s persistence. He wanted you. Not for love. Not even for desire, though there had once been something hungry in the way he looked at you during court gatherings, long before the war. No, he wanted you to silence the blood in the streets, to win the hearts of those who still whispered your name as they lit candles for the dead dragon prince. Rhaegar's sister. A daughter of the old line. If he couldn’t kill the dragon, he would cage it. Wed it. Breed it.

A knock came at the door. You did not answer.

It creaked open anyway. You didn’t turn.

“Y/N,” a voice said, rough and low and too alive. “It’s time.”

You didn’t move.

He stepped closer, boots scraping the stone. “The realm needs this.”

The realm. You hated that word. The realm had taken everything from you.

Still, you rose. Slowly. Mechanically. The maids came, silent as ghosts, dressing you in the gown that had been ordered. White. As if your innocence could still be claimed. They wove braids into your hair, pinned a small crown of rubies and pearls. One offered you a veil. You shook your head.

And so you walked to the Sept without it, your face bare for the world to see—shattered, exhausted, and empty.

Robert turned when he saw you, and for a moment, something flickered in his blue eyes. Not victory. Not lust. Something quieter. Sadder. He didn’t smile.

You stood beside him, your hand limp in his. His palm was calloused, warm, too large around yours.

The Septon's voice droned on, reading the vows of House and Faith. You barely heard it. Words floated past like wind in a dead garden.

“Do you, Robert of House Baratheon, take Y/N of House Targaryen—”

“I do,” he said before the Septon even finished, the words rasped from his throat like they pained him.

You said nothing. The Septon looked at you, hesitated, then gently prompted: “Princess?”

Your lips parted. The words did not come.

Robert’s hand tightened.

You closed your eyes. You saw Rhaegar on the Trident, dying with Lyanna’s name on his lips. You saw Jaime's haunted face as he watched your father burn the city down in his mind. You saw your mother’s hands, trembling as she held baby Viserys. You saw Dany’s face, too young to understand any of it. All of it gone.

“I do,” you whispered.

The bells rang again.

The crowd clapped politely.

And the man who had helped kill your family leaned forward and kissed your cheek, soft and solemn, as if it made anything better. You did not flinch. You did not cry. You did not breathe.

You were a queen now. But there was no joy in it.

Only ash.

The birthing chamber was quiet now, save for the faint pop and hiss of the brazier in the corner and the distant echo of revelers in the Red Keep, drinking to the health of the new heir. It had been a hard labor, a long one—two days and a night of pain so deep it had splintered your mind, left you delirious with heat and blood and the haunting memories of every Targaryen woman who had died doing this same sacred, monstrous thing. You had not screamed, even when the pain was worst. You had whimpered, sobbed, clenched your teeth until your jaw ached, but never screamed. That part of you had been burned out long ago.

But now, as the sun bled pale gold through the sheer curtains of the tower windows, you lay propped on linen pillows, your hair damp with sweat, skin aglow with the exhaustion of survival. And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, your arms were full. A child. Your child. A small, warm bundle swaddled in Targaryen red silk, already calm, already curious. He blinked up at you with wide, unfocused eyes—eyes that were not violet like yours, but a deep, rich blue that reminded you too cruelly of the man who sired him.

Still, you did not hate him for it. You did not hate him for anything. You loved him. Already. Utterly.

You traced his downy cheek with a trembling finger, and for a moment, a smile—small, stunned, wondrous—broke across your face like sunlight through a storm. The midwives had seen it. The maester had noticed. They exchanged glances, hushed and wide-eyed. It was the first expression of happiness they’d ever seen on your face since the sack of King’s Landing. The stillness in you had cracked.

“My lady,” one of them said, gently, reverently. “The King is waiting.”

You didn’t answer right away. You only looked down again, studying your son's tiny fists, his slow, sleepy blink. “Let him in,” you said at last, softly.

The door creaked open moments later, and Robert entered.

He was cleaner than usual, though his hair was still a bit unkempt, and the heavy cloak of royal blue slung over his broad shoulders gave him a warlike silhouette. He looked older, wearier than the man who had crushed Rhaegar’s chest with a hammer, older than the roaring brute who had seized your hand and crown in one swift move. But his blue eyes sharpened the moment he saw you—really saw you, sitting there in the sunlight, your hair loose around your shoulders, the silver tangled and darkened with sweat, your gown undone at the breast as you nursed your newborn son.

The sight stopped him cold.

He didn’t speak for a long moment. He simply stared, his mouth parted slightly, his gaze flickering over you not with the drunken lust he usually turned on brothel girls or serving wenches, but with something far more quiet and dangerous. Hunger, yes, but layered over awe. You were radiant, even with the fatigue etched into your face, even with the bruising along your throat where the maids had steadied you in the worst of the pain. There was softness in you now that hadn’t been seen since before the war, before madness and fire took your family from you. A part of you had returned, and it shook him.

You didn’t look up right away. You focused on the baby, adjusting the swaddling gently. “He’s healthy,” you said at last. “Strong. They say he didn’t even cry until he was cleaned.”

Robert cleared his throat. “He’s mine, then,” he said, trying for jest, but the words came out too raw.

You looked at him. There was no bite in your eyes today. Just tiredness. And something else—something soft and distant, like the echo of a dream.

“I named him Baelor,” you murmured. “After the Blessed.”

He blinked, clearly surprised. “Not… not a more fierce dragon name?”

“No.” You kissed the baby's forehead. “He was born in fire, but he deserves peace.”

Robert stepped closer, more slowly than usual, as if he feared startling you. He was so large that his shadow cast over the bed, over you and the boy. “May I…?” he asked, and his voice faltered. “May I hold him?”

You hesitated. You didn’t recoil, but your arms tightened instinctively around the bundle in your arms.

“I won’t hurt him,” he said, quieter this time. “Or you.”

You nodded, slowly, and shifted the child just enough for him to slip his arms underneath. He moved with surprising gentleness, lowering himself to the edge of the bed, cradling his son as if he were holding a cup made of glass. Baelor blinked once at him, then yawned.

“Seven hells,” Robert whispered, a chuckle caught somewhere in his throat. “He’s real.”

You watched him closely, head tilted, your hands still hovering near the baby’s blanket. You didn’t lean away. You didn’t tell him to go.

He glanced at you sideways, unsure, and something flickered again in his expression. Not just pride. Not just male satisfaction. But need.

“You smiled when you looked at him,” he said.

“I did,” you whispered.

He was silent for a beat longer, then dared to reach out. Not for the baby, but for your hand. Just two fingers grazing the edge of yours. Barely touching.

You didn’t pull away.

Not yet.

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talonabraxas · 11 months ago

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“One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.” ― C.G. Jung

Aztec God Tezcatlipoca Talon Abraxas

Tezcatlipoca (pronounced Tez-kat-lee-po’-ka), an omnipresent god capable of shapeshifting into a jaguar, was an incredibly important member of the Aztec pantheon. He ruled over the modern age, having usurped his younger brother Quetzalcoatl through trickery. As with his elder brother Xipe Totec, the Aztecs offered Tezcatlipoca annual human sacrifices.

Etymology

In Nahuatl, Tezcatlipōca meant ‘smoking mirror;’ this name referred to the obsidian mirrors that the Aztecs used during ceremonial divination. Depictions of Tezcatlipoca frequently replaced one of his feet with an obsidian mirror.

As with many Aztec gods, Tezcatlipoca had multiple names and titles. Several of his alternative names, Titlacauan and Ipalnemoani, refer to his important status among the Aztecs, literally meaning “We are his slaves” and “He by whom we live,” respectively.

Tezcatlipoca’s other names included:

Tloque Nahuaque / Lord of the Near and the Nigh[1] Yohualli Ehecatl / Night Wind Ome Acatl / Two Reed Ilhuicahua Tlaticpaque / Possessor of the Sky and Earth

Attributes

A key element of Tezcatlipoca’s power was his omnipresence. He was often represented by an obsidian mirror, though his power extended far beyond obsidian. Any reflection was a portal through which he could view the world. Obsidian was used for more than just its reflective properties, however. Ritual blood-letting and even human sacrifice were conducted with obsidian blades. Such rituals all connected back to Tezcatlipoca.

Whether it emanated from a ceremonial censer or a natural source such as a hot spring, smoke and steam always signified Tezcatlipoca’s presence. Tenochtitlan, the seat of the Aztec empire, was located in a volcanic region, where smoke and venting steam would have been commonplace. On a clear day, the active volcano Popocatépetl would have been visible from the city, and as such, Tezcatlipoca would have always been able to keep an eye on Tenochtitlan

Tezcatlipoca was also heavily associated with jaguars, and many believed he possessed the ability to shapeshift into one. A nighttime encounter with one of these large cats, or even a dream of such, was believed to have been a brush with the god.[3]

In artwork, Tezcatlipoca is usually identifiable by his missing left leg, the presence of an obsidian/smoking mirror (often replacing the missing leg), and a horizontal black band across his eyes.

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cosmereplay · 11 months ago

Note

for this kiss game, not a ship but Sja Anat and young Ren for 30? Like in your Sja/Evi universe, if that’s fine.

Absolutely!

I will write a kiss… 30. …as comfort.

Renarin & Sja-anat, 500 words, rated General, Oathbringer spoilers

Sja-anat watched through the mirror as her young charge cried until he was exhausted. She had been watching Renarin in his own rooms, as Evi had requested before she’d left with Adolin. Their yearly trip away was a normal part of the year, like a long slow Weeping, and Evi liked to hear what had actually happened with Renarin while she was away. It seemed she would give no more reports to Evi. She had heard the nursemaid tell Renarin that his mother was dead, and she had seen him retreat into himself. He’d thrown off his nursemaid with a deadly scream, then slowly, silently, marched to his mother’s bedroom, wrapped himself in her sheets, and collapsed completely. Sja-anat was surprised to be so moved. Human flames flickered then passed all too quickly. Her own passions smothered, then burst anew in a seething mass of newly discovered emotion as she witnessed Renarin's grief. Not for the first time, she wished she weren’t trapped between Realms. For Evi’s sake, she wished she could offer her son some kind of comfort. All she could do, for now, was watch as the young boy curled up with a small block of his mother’s incense and stared at the wall. He was tense, like stone. A thin whine crawling out the back of his throat seemed the only evidence that he was conscious. Was there something she could do? Sja-anat had touched a lesser spren before, giving it a bit of Odium’s power (Evi had insisted it was Sja-anat’s own power. Could she believe it?) If it were Sja-anat’s power, she could send it without Odium’s knowledge. Would it work? She could tell Odium it was an experiment, to see if humans could see her corrupted spren. It was worth the risk. She found a windspren and imbued it with her power. She whispered a command and it flew away, up and up from Shadesmar into the Physical Realm. She found Renarin again as he reached up to light the incense in his mother’s censer. For a moment, he paused to make sure it had caught. Then he ran back to the bed and wrapped his mother’s blanket around him, watching the smoke as it rose in a wavy pattern, fast and harsh at the base, and flowing, almost dripping upward in a slow undulation before catching the invisible movement of air through the room and dissipating. The boy watched with red, puffy eyes, and his lips moved, though he didn’t make any sound. “Now,” Sja-anat whispered, and the windspren flew to him, leaving a thin red trail behind it. It flew through the boy’s cheek, the spot his mother had liked to kiss him, and out the other side. “Again,” she commanded, and the windspren tried again, then again, until Renarin noticed the movement of light. His eyes caught the translucent spren flying large circles around him, leaving behind that thin trail of red light. His expression didn't really change, though it softened. Then, in a massive effort expending all its presence, the windspren flew against his cheek, bouncing back, before abruptly disappearing back to Shadesmar. She could already sense Odium's attention moving towards her. Sja-anat moved quickly away through the palace, planning her words. The risk and effort were great, but remembering the way the boy had softly touched his face, Sja-anat thought it was worth it. For Evi's sake.

From the I Will Write a Kiss ask game

(If you'd like to read more Evi/Sja-anat AU you can check out this search on ao3)

#I cannot be normal about them and will never #this au will live on always in my head #renarin was 9 when his mother died by the way #evi/sja-anat #Renarin is Sja-anat's adopted son #ask game #ask answered #stormlight fanfic #my fic #ficlet #oathbringer spoilers #ob spoilers

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satoshi-mochida · 1 year ago

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Dragon’s Dogma II launches March 22, 2024

Gematsu Source

Dragon’s Dogma II will launch for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, and PC via Steam on March 22, 2024 for $69.99, Capcom announced. Pre-orders are available now.

A $79.99 Deluxe Edition will also be available, which includes the base game and downloadable content “A Boon for Adventurers – New Journey Pack.” The pack includes the following:

Explorer’s Camping Kit – Camping Gear

Dragon’s Dogma Music & Sound Collection – Custom Sounds

Harpysnare Smoke Beacons – Harpy Lure Item

Heartfelt Pendant – A Thoughtful Gift

Ambivalent Rift Incense – Change Pawn Inclinations

Makeshift Gaol Key – Escape from gaol!

Art of Metamorphosis – Character Editor

Wakestone – Restore the dead to life!

1,500 Rift Crystals – Points to Spend Beyond the Rift

Pre-orders for all editions of Dragon’s Dogma II will include the “Superior Weapons Quartet” to support players in early battles. Pre-orders for the Deluxe Edition will also include the “Ring of Assurance.”

“Dragon’s Dogma is a game that I dreamed of playing as a boy who loved TRPG-based games and action games, and I have a special attachment to it,” director Hideaki Itsuno said on PlayStation Blog. “Dragon’s Dogma II incorporates ideas that were not technically feasible at the time we created the first game. I believe this game will let you experience the fantasy world you’ve always dreamed of, a fantasy world action simulator game, and ultimately be the ultimate Dragon’s Dogma. The entire team is working hard on the final touches of the game. Whether you’ve played the first game or not, we hope you’ll enjoy your adventure in this open fantasy world.”

Get the latest details below.

Adventure in Two Nations

In Dragon’s Dogma II, players experience the tale of the Arisen, a champion whose heart is stolen by the Dragon. While the sequel’s setting mirrors the lush rolling hills of the cult classic Dragon’s Dogma and its Dark Arisen expansion, this original adventure takes place in a parallel world containing two nations with distinct approaches to the Dragon threat. Queen Regent Disa has installed a false Arisen to maintain control of the kingdom of Vermund for her son. Meanwhile, the beastren nation of Battahl considers the otherworldly Pawns to be a source of misfortune and have turned to worship of the Lambent Flame and their empress Nadinia to ward off calamity. The showcase provided a look at some of the destinations that quests can lead players to, such as the reclusive elven enclave of Sacred Arbor. The elves there communicate in their own language, and Pawns capable of understanding their speech will translate for the Arisen while in your party. Pawns can also specialize in other skills, making each of their personalities more distinct.

A Journey Defined by Choice

Upon starting their journey in Dragon’s Dogma II, players will be able to craft both their Arisen and Main Pawn using an intuitive and deep character creator that makes use of photogrammetry to enhance the realism of each characters’ appearance. Additionally, players can choose the personality of their main Pawn, which will determine their behavior and conversation choices throughout the game. As players progress, they will unlock additional vocations such as the newly revealed Trickster. This Arisen-exclusive vocation can conjure illusions through the smoke created by its unique weapon, the Censer. Tricksters can use illusions to deceive enemies into fighting against their own, and can temporarily increase the power of Pawns beyond their limits. The new Trickster vocation showcases the ways players can manipulate and take advantage of the enhanced enemy AI to open entirely new combat opportunities. The digital event also provided a first look at the returning Warrior and Sorcerer Vocations that will be available to both the Arisen and Pawns. The Warrior boasts a robust physique specializing in direct combat, with the strength to endure enemy attacks. Warriors are masters of two-handed weapons such as the greatsword and the hammer. The Sorcerer is a vocation completely specialized in various magick attacks. Their magick is conjured with both hands through a large staff and can change the tide of battle at any given opportunity.

Confront Fearsome Foes

Director Itsuno and Producer Hirabayashi provided a first look at several monsters during the digital event, including the new Talos enemy, a towering bronze golem capable of wreaking untold destruction with a single step. After Talos rises from the waters, players will need to make use of the various tools afforded them by their Vocation, Pawns, and terrain to subdue this mighty construct. The digital event also revealed gameplay for the Dullahan and Drake enemies. Dullahan is a headless specter capable of immobilizing its target before striking with its powerful curved blade. Drakes are fearsome draconic foes capable of breathing a potent flame when confronted and taking flight to shift the scales of combat.

Product Information

In addition to the standard version of Dragon’s Dogma II available for MSRP $69.99, a Deluxe Edition containing the “New Journey Pack” includes in-game items to help your Arisen on their journey such as a custom Camping Kit, a Wakestone, Rift Crystals, a Dragon’s Dogma Music and Sound collection, and more will be available for MSRP $79.99. Pre-orders of the Standard Edition will feature a bonus weapon for each of the four starting vocations, and Deluxe Edition pre-orders will also include the Ring of Assurance in-game accessory.

Watch a new trailer and Dragon’s Dogma II Showcase 2023 below. View a new set of screenshots at the gallery.

Main Trailer

English

youtube

Japanese

youtube

Dragon's Dogma II Showcase 2023

English

youtube

Japanese

youtube

#Dragon’s Dogma II #Dragon’s Dogma #Capcom #Action RPG #RPG #Gematsu #Youtube

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deathmybride · 9 months ago

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*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ these violent delights | davos blackwood (part 8) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ship: davos blackwood x fem!oc

warnings: organised religion i guess...

summary: cersha visits the sept at riverrun

word count: 1350

a/n: ok i've been lowkey hyping up another smut chapter but this one became something... else, so smut next time! We have only 2 chapters and the epilogue left (if I can keep to my plan) so everyone get excited for the ending :)

Cersha knelt in the seclusion and silence of the sept for a long while, floating in a haze of contemplation. Heavy resin incense billowed from seven brass censer burners which hung from the stained pine rafters that splayed out into a great star that stretched to each corner of the heptagonal room. The sunlight through the stained glass painted cobalt, crimson, emerald, canary, tyrian, fuchsia, and tangerine over the hardwood floor, and it spun out into rainbow fractals from the prisms embedded in each of the windows. It was there that she felt the panicked guilt that once fizzed through her veins subside, replaced by the love of God in all his Seven aspects curling around her in light and smoke. It was the Maiden she prayed to, and that vision of purity and clarity answered her reverent conversation by conjuring an old memory.

There had been a celebration for a union between two of the Riverhouses, a gathering of noble youths. Cersha was twelve years old and after the ceremony she had played chasings with the other little girls and weaved daisies into Walda Darry’s hair. That was the day that she first met Elmo and little Oscar. Elmo was four and ten, tall and lean, with deep auburn hair that shone like fire in the sunlight. He looked like a man to her, and had all of a man’s charm. He lead his little brother with a gentle hand on his shoulder, only eight years old he was, with the biggest, brightest eyes that watched the girls with an intense curiosity.

“Greetings, ladies.” Elmo had announced. His voice had already broken, and though it still held the timbre of youth, the depth of it made her shiver. “Oscar wants to play too.”

“Of course he can!” It was Walda Darry who spoke up, abandoning Cersha and her flowers, and took the child by the hand. Flashing an eager smile at Elmo that was not lost to Cersha, she lead him away to play, casting several glances behind her to ensure the older boy was observing her apparent kindness.

Left with a lap full of flowers and a keen sense of envy, she marched after Elmo as he turned to leave and tapped him insistently on the shoulder. He turned, a glower of annoyance on his face.

“My lord Tully.” She said flatly and thrust out her fist to… offer? No, to demand that he take a flower from her muddy hand.

A lop-sided half-smile spread across his face and he plucked a healthy sprig of foxglove for himself.

“Thank you, my lady Bracken.”

She took a deep breath, her gaze darting between his irises as if trying to commit every fractal blue detail to memory. He chuckled, and turned to leave, but she spoke up again.

“Might I put some in your hair?”

He laughed, turning a little circle and casting a glance at the group of boys on the far side of the garden who were standing around waiting for him. She saw Aeron’s long blonde hair and golden finery amongst them, a tall boy with a tawny Rhoynish complexion, a Strong, and a boy in black and red with a mop of unruly dark hair. He rubbed a hand over his reddening face, and nodded.

“Yes, yes.” He giggled around the words. “Of course, my lady.”

Without another word she plonked down onto the ground and crossed her legs. He seemed confused for a moment, as people often did in her presence at that age, but soon figured out her meaning, and sat down across from her as her perfect mirror. She shuffled in as close as she could to him, and began poking the tiny daisies and clovers into his auburn curls.

“Cersha.”

“Sorry?”

“Cersha is my name.”

“Oh. Elmo Tully. I am most pleased to make your acquaintance.

She sat still for a moment, a daisy between her fingers as she frowned, trying to remember something, some social norm she was forgetting, then she thrust out her hand to him. He laughed, shaking his head a little, and shook it.

“Aren’t you supposed to kiss it?”

More laughter.

“I suppose I could. Would you like that?”

She sucked in a breath, sure that she was glowing red, and managed to nod. He laughed some more and pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles. She was sure it was the finest feeling in the world. The moment was quickly interrupted by the little boy thundering over and slapping a hand onto Elmo’s shoulder.

“You’re it!” He declared, a pearly smile on his face and willow catkins in his hair.

“I’m not playing, Osc.” Elmo sighed, but Oscar’s disappointment was short lived.

“Flowers!” He gasped, pointing at the pink and white that graces those curls of flame. “Can I have some?”

“Ask Cersha. And be polite.”

“MayIpleasehave- um, can you please put some in my hair, please, thank you?”

“Let me finish-”

“I have enough, thank you, my lady.” Elmo was already rising to his feet.

“I’m not done!”

“Thank you, lady.” He tossed over his shoulder as he jogged off. The group of boys seemed to jeer as he approached. Even Aeron.

She could not stare at them for long as Oscar plopped down in front of her and looked at her with wide, expectant eyes. He spent the whole ordeal giggling and asking her a score of questions, and though she usually found herself annoyed by younger children, Oscar proved himself witty for his age and she declared herself his friend by the end of the day, to his delight.

When she retired to her chambers that night with her mother tucking her into bed, she talked incessantly of all that had happened, slipping into that affected northern accent that only arose when she was alone with her mother. She listened in her still, silent way with the full moon haloing on her mass of dark curls, and then she smiled sagely.

“He sounds like quite the boy.”

“Oh, he is! I want to marry him, mama.”

She cocked her head, contemplating. Her thin lips pursed as she wiped some of her daughter’s hair from her face, deep-set brown eyes suddenly weary beyond her years.

“Let me give you a peace of advice, my girl, something you won’t hear at the sept. There is a hundred times more shame in going gently into the arms of a man you do not love out of a sense of duty, to your house, to your father, to me, than there is in giving yourself out of wedlock to a man that you love… or even simply for the thrill or the pleasure of it. Your father and I began as a tryst of desire, but love grew from it. There was no sin it in, I tell you, my girl. Sex… the only sin to be found in that is taking it by force and coercion.

“You are young and I want you to be careful, touch no man until you trust him completely and look at every man with suspicion. Dig into him, root out the darkness in him and turn away from it. You are a trusting girl, sometimes too trusting, but as you grow older and wiser, it is your responsibility to live your life as you want it. If… If I’m not here to help you, you must promise me you will not accept a marriage you do not want. Do whatever you must, but please don’t let these southron gods take your spirit.”

“But… you’ll be here for a long time yet, won’t you?”

Her hand fell to her swelling stomach.

“The future is a fickle thing. But I will try, my girl, I will try.”

Cersha found herself on her feet in a sudden movement of epiphany. Though her mother may have sprinkled in a little blasphemy, her sentiment was sound, and the gods must agree if the memory came to her in such a holy place. The weight was lifted and she tilted her head back and laughed.

Thanks to my lovelies @aemondslove @disillusioned-phantasma @anaviieiraaa @deepestlovert @flordiakilos @kitty2984 @kpopfanfictionfantacies @sometings @nikkilsworld @gladiatorgladiator @borislava17 @oshun22 @spider-stark @marvelenthusiast10 @itsyagirl01 @nixtape-foryou @giggles-andkicks @benijbol @darlingcharling-blog @writervaul-t @kayrakhan @unicorntrooper @frogoerson @aphroditeanadyomene @councilofcastamere @ellxpsismm for your reblogs and comments! I'm doing it for you guys :)

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artoklasia · 2 years ago

Text

Occlupanid Tags

A running list of the common tags used by this tag project. Artoklasia is a tagging experiment to observe the interplay of tag clouds for particular mature themes.

At the risk of my engineered charm of nuance and mystery, I have decided to add concept clouds to the tags list. Think of these less as strict definitions, and more of a general concept of what to expect from a given tag.

The most common CWs I do my best to tag for: blood, emeto, gore, nihilism, trypo, violence, unsanitary.

In order to guarantee this blog is only visible on PC to people who are 18+ and have opted into seeing Mature Content, I am officially giving my pinned post Labels.

Anointment: rain, oiled surfaces, orthotics, corsetry, posturing; saliromania

Apostasy: emeto, tissue rejection, violent/abrupt excretions

Apotheosis: terato, supernatural creatures, transformation

Asitophilia: pica, unsettling food

Aureole: haloes, fluorescence, crowns, horns

Bathwater: baths, tanks, bodies of water

Censer: respirators, particulates like smoke, smoking

Cephalophoria: headlessness, object heads

Chum for Chums: moodboard collages of a curated theme, chumboxes, clickbait

Devotion: (body) worship, intricate rituals, (religious) conceit

Discipline: BDSM

Elephant chan: the Elephant's Foot

Enkyoku na Seppun / 婉曲な接吻: contact transfer, contaminants; nyotaimori (previously "an indirect kiss")

Filament: fibers, threads, roots, wires, hair, rope

Flux: melt fetish body horror, melting, coagulating

Galatea: agalmato, objectum

Hagiography: conceit of sainthood/martyrdom. figures of interest

Hanahaki: Hanahaki disease; organs filled with foreign matter

Herakleophorbia: oversized things, macro

Kholodets / холодец: cross-sections, resin/gelatin suspensions, anatomical diagrams, dissections, fetish gear under plain clothes

Lace: lace, fishnets, mesh

Laces: corsetry aesthetic, shibari

Latex: vinyl, latex, esp. wetlook

Leaks: mirrors, masks, screens/monitors, reflective surfaces

Leather: only used when I can be mostly confident it isn't latex

Lichinka / личинка: tentacles, tongues, invertebrates, sex organs

Likhoradka / лихорадка: disease, symptoms, infectiousness; nosophilia

Louboutin: contrast-sole aesthetic, hidden linings/coatings

Myxomatosis: leporine, blistered, tumescent

Oblations: paraphernalia *****INDISTINCT TAG*****

Ontology: holes, voids; trypophilia

Optical Disc: distorted visuals, implicit of impaired/altered sensory input

Or the Crown Slips: edging, particular head tilts; symphorophilia, especially the rehearsal ("Chin up, Princess...")

Pachy chan: the corium slags produced by the Fukushima disaster, where three separate reactors melted down

Pearls: pearls, teeth

Raiment: wearables *****INDISTINCT TAG*****

Rapture: the "O"; erotic nihilism

Therapy: parasites, (bad) medicine; trypophilia, formicophilia

Thriai: apiaries, honey curation, telling of the bees

Unction: sploshing/gunge/WAM; more messy/sloppy than anointment tag, though there's overlap

Underfoot: foot fetishism, footwear, corium slag

Satin: silk, satin

Saturnine: afterglow, necro, decomposition

Second Skin: wearables fetishism; second skin

Shuba / шуба: fur, velvet, velour, suede, moss, mold, matte textured surfaces

Stimulating: looping stim gifs

Surfeit: swelling, excess, tumescence; expansion

Synecdoche: setting porn, warning signs, environmental storytelling. abandoned places, urbex, exclusion zones

Syzygy: concentrism, convergence, overlay

Tryasovitsy / трясовицы: contagiousness, transcendentalism

Vagusblogging: appetites, (sensory) gluttony, compulsive behaviors; feederism

Vessels: containers, rooms, dishes; (clothes) stuffing

Wetware: clinical apathy, cybernetics, body hacking

Wetware Softhack: drug use, nerve tweaking, cybernetic malfunctions (historically I've also had a #Wetware Hack tag, but I've been trying to merge that tag into #Discipline)

With the devotion of an Earl Marshal: symphorophilia, especially the planning (Often blurs with #Or the Crown Slips.) "[He] thought of nothing else but her death, a coronation of wounds he had staged with the devotion of an Earl Marshal."

Wonderbread: (Wonder)bread, adulterated bread, extremely processed food products, hypercapitalist environmental damage

Wormwood: radiochemical symphorophilia, hazardous waste, apocalyptica

wundermöpse: I haven't decided whether to add this one to the mix or not

Functional non-aes tags

Chum for Chums: moodboards in this are made by me

Dimercaprol: my adult art

Fav: personal favs

Mine: content I've uploaded, compiled, and/or myself

Music: music tag

Peak B.A.L.: something of a best-ofs where I'm OP

We Just Don't Know: Catch-all nonsense. I started using it originally for raunchy shitposts, memes, and text posts I wanted to be able to reference again. Trying to use it less often and focus on the abstract for this blog.

In addition to the above, I've done my best to tag as many posts as possible with the contributing artists. If it's a publication like a zine, I try to remember to tag that, too. If you ever feel cheeky and want to help me source anything in my #Needs Source tag, you're lovely.

#we just don't know #update feb '24: i changed an indirect kiss

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devouringteeth · 3 years ago

Note

[Amara parked Piper at the edge of the woods. Left the key in the ignition, but popped the hatchback. In the back was a very fucked up man who was very full of wasps. His broken leg was set with a brace. His right arm was sawn off and cauterized. The ornate censer hanging from her rearview mirror was filling the car with smoke that smelled of incense and burning skin in equal measure, which was keeping the wasps very much inside the man and very much not laying eggs under Amara's skin again. She unwraveled the chain from her mirror, got out of the car, and walked to the back.]

[...]

[She lead the man, a chain around his throat, through the woods that surrounded The Swamp. When she crossed the threshold, when she entered the land that was not native to the ground beneath it, that feeling of danger of hunger of frenzy of you are meat you are meat you are meat again caused every hair on her neck and arms to stand straight up. But the feeling wasn't new to her. Was to Sloan though, and he started protesting, though a look from the frenzied eyes that had sawed into him shut him up. He didn't know why they were here. If he did, Amara's threats would not be persuading him. The censer swung from the same fist that held his chain, the holy Flame serving as a barrier between she and he. And the smell of flesh served as an alert to the Monster.]

[...]

[Deeper still they pressed into the Swamp, until the feeling settling into her stomach felt a little too familiar. It felt like last time.]

DEVOURER. I WANT TO TALK. POLITELY.

[ Now that she wasn't trying to rescue someone, the swamp was quiet and almost - almost - peaceful. There were tadpoles in the water. A cormorant watched as she passed by, a fish under its talons. The insects swarming the hot, humid air and the stagnant water grew fewer the deeper they walked in. There were a few attempts at harmless bites before Amara's censer drove them away.]

[There was no immediate answer to her call. Behind her, the chain clinked as Sloan grimaced and pulled his braced foot out of the muck, only to immediately sink back in. Wasps buzzed, but they were few and soon landed again. Not far away was the wooden path, broken where the struggle with Mica had happened.]

[The corruption avatar was exhausted, Hungry, and injured. And in a terrible way he knows he was going to die here. It's apparent in the fear permeating the air. Is this how Eyes felt when they Knew things? He thinks it must be.]

[... Devourer? He did not like that name at all--]

[They both feel it, all of a sudden.]

[The crawling, bone deep ache of Hunger, like a living thing settling in their marrow.]

[The corruption avatar startles, panics, and even Amara's threats can't hold him anymore as he pulls at the chain and takes one, two ineffective steps before stumbling and coughing. Buzzing black and white is expelled, dispersing into the air, fleeing the way they came. Evacuating. With his one remaining hand Sloan reaches for his eye, a squelching noise as he rips it out before using his teeth to tear the rotten surface open. Three wasps escape and follow the fleeing Swarm, larger than the rest.]

[He was going to die, here. But the wasps had seen. They would live, and they would report to the Queen Mother. And she would give them a new host. The idea feels peaceful.]

[He turns his head, bleeding black from the empty socket while he gives Amara a hateful look and opens his mouth - only to scream as something massive green and brown lunges out at him. He narrowly escapes the initial bite and falls backwards into the water, but it does not save him.]

[The chain is torn out of her hand and Amara gets to watch as the Devourer, so close she can see the algae on his scales, easily crosses the spot of solid ground in one leap. It drags the man under with its full weight, water spraying in all directions. Briefly she sees Sloan resurface in the midst of black-coated bubbles before the rest of the battle - no, the Feeding - plays out in the murky depths.]

[When all is done, only a few dead wasps float on the water, and the quiet ambience of the swamp returns. The Devourer surfaces with a loud huff, spits out a piece of fabric into the muck, and steps out to meet her on land.]

[She can still tell that he is tempted to have another taste of her, can feel the twinge of desire as his yellow eyes flit to her new arm. But he stays where he is, seven feet of distance between the avatar and the monster. He tilts his head inquisitively, waiting for her words.]

#jackknife through a dove

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jpschf · 4 years ago

Quote

I CAN’T WAIT FOR MEXICO TO CONQUER AMERICA FOR THE FRENCH OF CANADA TO BUILD A RAFT ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN I CAN’T WAIT FOR LASER SURGERY I CAN’T WAIT TO VOMIT WHAT I JUST ATE AND SCALD THE PLACE WITH THE CUM ON IT I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE SINGING IN THE BLOOD, MY SIX WIVES AND SEVEN HUSBANDS, MY BROWN PIANO MY BLACK GUITAR MY ASHEN SKIRT AND HEAVY KNEES I CAN’T WAIT TO QUIT THIS BROKEN HOME I CAN’T WAIT TO QUIT THIS BROKEN HOME I CAN’T WAIT TO QUIT THIS BROKEN HOME I CAN’T WAIT FOR HAITI TO TAKE FLORIDA AND RAISE GUINEN LIKE ATLANTIS OUT OF THE WATER I CAN’T WAIT FOR BOSTON TO FALL INTO THE HARBOR I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE HANGING GARDENS I CAN’T WAIT FOR SILKEN FICTIONS I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE MARKET TO CLOSE I CAN’T WAIT TO GROW THE DECAPITATED FLOWER I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE BLOOD OF UPENDED PIGEONS REVERSED RAINBOWS AND SNAKE-EATING LIQUID GOLD I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE DEW TO FALL, TOMORROW, TODAY I CAN’T WAIT FOR MY TITS AND ABS I CAN’T WAIT FOR THEY WON’T GO WHEN I GO I CAN’T WAIT FOR MY HIGH ASS AND MAC MOUTH I CAN’T WAIT FOR A THICKER COCK I CAN’T WAIT FOR A MODEST APARTMENT UNDER THE HOLE IN THE ROOF OF THE PANTHEON A GOLD CHAIN A WISHBONE I CAN’T WAIT FOR MY BIGGEST SCAR TO OPEN ITS BLEEDING MOUTH I CAN’T WAIT FOR A LOAN I CAN’T WAIT FOR JOHN BROWN, SHAY’S REBELLION I CAN’T WAIT FOR EMMA GOLDMAN, I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE TIME TO BE RIPE I CAN’T WAIT TO DROP OUT OF SCHOOL, GET A PERM, NICODERM I CAN’T WAIT TO DEVELOP A HABIT, TO KICK IT, I CAN’T WAIT TO DENY IT I CAN’T WAIT TO KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE I CAN’T WAIT TO LIE ABOUT MY AGE, TO LIE ABOUT MY PAST, I CAN’T WAIT TO LIE ABOUT WHAT I WANT I CAN’T WAIT TO PRETEND TO LIKE THIS I CAN’T WAIT TO GET REALLY FUCKING GOOD I CAN’T WAIT TO REALLY UNDERSTAND I CAN’T WAIT TO STEAL THE SMOKING CENSERS, THE MITRE, THE STAFF, THE ALTAR, THE CHRYSANTHEMUM NECKLACE, THE WHITE STRING, THE VEIL, THE SEVEN VEILS, THE HOLY WATER, THE BLACK ROCK, THE WHITE WALL, THE METAL FENCE, THE COILING RAZORWIRE ATOP THE METAL FENCE, I CAN’T WAIT TO STEAL THE BAD UNDERSHORTS, THE SHIRTSLEEVES, THE CASSOCKS, THE MAGIC APRONS, THE CAKES BAKED WITH URINE, THE PINK ROSEWATERS, THE FLORIDA WATERS, THE SMOKE AND MIRRORS, THE ALABASTER JARS, THE TUSKS, THE KILTS, THE FINE MASONIC SWORDS, I CAN’T WAIT TO STEAL THE ARC AND THE WOOD THAT WAS BENT TO MAKE IT WITH, THE ILLEGIBLE SCROLL, THE WAINSCOT BY THE FOOT OF THE ANGELIC YOUNG RABBI, THE STOCKINGED FOOT IN ITS OPEN-TOED SANDAL, THE HEAVY STONE TABLET, THE SILENCE IN THE PLACES, THE SMALL CLAY URN WITH A BOOK STUFFED IN IT I CAN’T WAIT TO HURT YOU I CAN’T WAIT TO HURT YOU I CAN’T WAIT TO HAVE BEEN WRONG, TO HAVE BEEN RIGHT RIGHT ALL ALONG I CAN’T WAIT TO HAVE KNOWN HOW TO WALK UGLY IN THIS PURPLE LIGHT I CAN’T WAIT TO BE RICH IN TUMBLED STONE, LEOPARD AND COBALT AND WEAR A SILKEN SHIRT MADE OF SHAKEN MARE’S HAIR I CAN’T WAIT TO BURN ALL MY BRIDGES I CAN’T WAIT TO BURN THEM ALL DOWN I CAN’T WAIT FOR A PAIR OF RED FOXES AND A PAIR OF RED DEER TO STARE ME DOWN IN THE CEMETERY SQUARE I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE FIRST TEAR TO FALL I CAN’T WAIT TO GO FROM BAD TO WORSE FOR THE HOLE IN MY HEAD TO ADMIT ITS OWNMOST PELICAN I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE RAPES TO CONFINE THEMSELVES TO AN EGG GREY AND BUDGING ON A CHALK SCREEN IN A DARK VAULT WHERE NOBODY EVER GOES I CAN’T WAIT TO BE SILENT TO BE A DIRTY OLD MAN FOR THE SAKE OF THE PROMISE OF MY YOUTH I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE CONDENSATE TO FREAK MY EDGES I CAN’T WAIT TO KILL OR BE KILLED I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE FRUIT TO HANG LOW ON THE VINE I CAN’T WAIT FOR DOMREMY I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE SIXTIES OR THE NINETIES OR THE THIRTIES OR THE FIFTIES OR THE TWENTIES OR THE EIGHTIES I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT TO OPEN THE MOUTH OF MY MACBOOK AND FEED IT I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE DOE TO RATE A SECOND LOOK I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE DOE TO STAND THERE STARING AT ME THESE ELEVEN THOUSAND MINUTES I CAN’T WAIT TO WRITE ANOTHER BOOK I CAN’T WAIT TO HIDE ANOTHER BOOK IN MY MIDDLE AND SMILE OVER IT, LIAR, TRIPPING MERRILY DOWN THE STREET I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE PEOPLE WHO DESCRIBE THEMSELVES AS ‘FUN’ FOR THE PEOPLE WHO ‘LOVE TO LAUGH’ FOR THE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE DESIGN PROTOTYPES, THE SHOES, THE CARS, THE WOMEN, THE RECOLLECTION I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE FEVERED DEBATES AROUND ‘THE SUN AS ALTERNATIVE ENERGY SOURCE’ I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE DEAD HAIRS AND THE SCARS OF THE FACES OF THE LIVING DEAD I CAN’T WAIT FOR CHILDREN MOON AND STARS I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE HEAD OF THE PEONY TO DROOP IN ACCLAIM OF THE SUN I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE ELASTIC METAPHORS TO DISTINGUISH THE BEAUTIFUL UGLINESS FROM EVIL DEATH I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE RIGHTEOUS TO THROB AGAINST THE KNIFE I CAN’T WAIT FOR ALL OF THE GASES AND GRIDS OF THE ETHER SWEET STULTIFYING MUSIC LIKE A HEADACHE PRESERVED IN PERFUME I CAN’T WAIT FOR TEMPTATION IN THE HERMITAGE GETTING KNOCKED OVER LIKE GAUDÍ OR FRANK O’HARA I CAN’T WAIT TO BE THROWN OVER I CAN’T WAIT NEVER TO COME HERE AGAIN I CAN’T WAIT TO NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN I CAN’T WAIT FOR IT TO BE OVER I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE WHITE LIGHT BARRELING BARRELING BARRELING I CAN’T WAIT TO GIVE UP THE GHOST I CAN’T WAIT TO LOVE THE DEAD BETTER I CAN’T WAIT TO HAVE BEEN HERE ALL ALONG TO LEAVE JUST IN TIME I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE GHOST DANCE I CAN’T WAIT TO LIVE OFF LICHEN, SEA MOSS, AND THIRD LEG I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE HARD THUNDERCLAP I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOUR SECRET PAIN I CAN’T WAIT FOR SIGNATURE EYEWEAR I CAN’T WAIT FOR A SHELL HUIPIL AND TEN FLAMES OF WHICH ONE CINDER FLEW INTO MY ONE GOOD EYE SATURDAY THE ELEVENTH OF NOVEMBER TWO THOUSAND AND TEN I CAN’T WAIT TO DRINK THE PINK MEAD AMID THE FLOWERY BREADS OF DAWN I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE HARD RED PEACE, FOR THE HARD BLUE PEACE, FOR THE HARD BLACK PEACE, FOR THE WHITE LIGHT, I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE BLACK DEATH, FOR THE WHITE DEATH, FOR THE RED DEATH, FOR THE BALLOONING RED BELLY OF DEATH, FOR DEATH IN LIQUID YELLOW PARCHMENT CRACKING OPEN UNDER THIN BLOOD

BARAKA - Ariana Reines, Mercury

#baraka #mercury #Ariana Reines #reines #ariana

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ringleaderising · 4 months ago

Text

Censer Smoke & Mirrors || Preview Blurb

"The moon that rises over this town is twisted, the earth is profane- you know not the curse you've inflicted upon your children- for their sake- send them away." "why would I take your word on this, of all people, Malvontain?" "because I am the only bastard in this town who will tell you the truth: if you do not part with them soon, She will take them, twist and contort them to serve her will. if you care to have children and not beasts fitting as fodder for the town's hunters- you will make haste and take my advice- this is not a place for the young." "if you want haste Malvontain, I'll make it to kill you- march on- make yourself scarce before I make you a particularly handsome corpse." "Fine. May the Lady take pity upon them for your greed."

A twisted, black moon rises above Vaudemire Way... and warnings left unheeded births beasts previously unseen... the monstrous offspring of a conman and the devout seek refuge in new lairs soon....

I'll have to write bios and lore blurbs and all this will wait for other outstanding things (like their parents' bios, a lair review, the next lore drop, me building my new PC etc, etc, etc.) BUT the bloodborne-esque beasties have finally been born!

I'm half tempted to keep the double slate son, so I may have 5 or I may have 4 to send out to new homes the same way I did the piglets but instead of serial killing clowns, these kids are monsters by divine right, afflicted not by nature but by curses individual to each poor, unfortunate young soul.

keep an eye out- perhaps you may be so lucky as to offer one the solace they long for....

#flight rising #FR #Flightrising #Censer smoke and Mirrors;#okay to RB/comment!

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lunariaa · 5 years ago

Text

The Elements

What are the elements?

In witchcraft and similar practices, the are four earthly elements; earth, air, fire, and water. There is also a fifth element- aether- which unites the four elements. Aether, more commonly known as spirit, is not an earthly element, but “above”. These are all represented in the pentacle. The four elements are represented in numerous different ways, such as directions, colours, symbols, etc.

Earth

Earth, Guardian of the North, is represented by the colour green for obvious reasons. It is associated with the goddess and is the ultimate feminine, motherly symbol. Earth represents strength, abundance, stability, wealth, and femininity. It’s season is winter, and is commonly represented through salt, a pentagram, crystals, herbs, rocks, wood, soil, etc.. In tarot, it is represented by the pentacle

Common Symbols

Gender: Feminine

Direction: North

Season: Winter

Energy: Receptive

Symbols: Salt, crystals, herbs, rocks, soil, etc.

God(desse)s: Ceres, Demeter, Gaea, Persephone, Adonis, Athos, Dionysus, Pan

Time: Midnight

Age: Mother

Colours: Green, brown, black

Tarot: Pentacle

Crystals: Emeralds, onyx, jasper, quartz

Instruments: Drum and percussion

Types of Magick: Gardening, binding, money spells, grounding, runes, burying

Magickal tools: Pentacle, pentagram, cords, images, salt

Spirits: Gnomes, dwarves, trolls

Sense: Touch

Herbs: Grains, oat, rice, patchouli, lichens

Animals: Cow, bull, bear, ants, horse, wolf, dog

Air

Air, Guardian of the East, is associated with the colour yellow. It represents the mind, intelligence, imagination, divination and communication. Air is the element of visualization, as well as anything psychic or to do with the mind. It’s spells use aromatherapy, songs, and hiding objects. Air is the element of spring, as it has a youthfulness to it and it brings an air of change and adaptation

Common Symbols

Gender: Masculine

Direction: East

Season: Spring

Energy: Projective

Symbols: Feathers, smoke, incense, plants, flowers, trees

God(desse)s: Aradia, Arianrhod, Nuit, Shu, Thoth

Time: Dawn

Age: Childhood

Colours: Yellow, white, crimson

Tarot: Swords

Crystals: Amethyst, alexandrite, topaz, rainbow stones

Instruments: Flute, wind instruments

Types of Magick: Divination, concentration, retribution

Magickal tools: Athame, censer, wand, sword

Spirits: Sylphs, zephyrs, faeries of trees, flowers, and wind

Sense: Smell, hearing

Herbs: Clove, myrrh, primrose, lavender, pansy, primrose, vervain, dill

Animals: Eagle, raven, spider

Fire

Fire, Guardian of the South, is associated with reds and oranges. It represents energy, passion, inspiration, love, and leadership. Fire is the most physical of the elements. It is the element for change and action. It’s spells involve burning things, baking, love spells, and lighting candles. Fire is the element of summer, where energy is high and thriving

Common Symbols

Gender: Masculine

Direction: South

Season: Summer

Energy: Projective

Symbols: Flame, lightning, heated objects, sun, stars, volcano

God(desse)s: Brigit, Hestia, Vesta, Horus, Prometheus, Vulcan

Time: Noon

Age: Maiden/Youth

Colours: Red, orange, gold

Tarot: Wands

Crystals: Ruby, agathe, fire opal

Instruments: Guitar, stringed instruments

Types of Magick: Candle, healing, love spells, energy work

Magickal tools: Dagger, censer, candles, fire

Spirits: Salamanders, firedrakes

Sense: Sight

Herbs: Garlic, hibiscus, red peppers, cinnamon, coffee, chili peppers, beans, seeds

Animals: Dragon, cat, lion, horse, cricket, mantis, scorpion, phoenix, coyote, fox

Water

Water, Guardian of the West, is associated with the colour blue. It represents emotion, subconscious, purification, wisdom, and the emotional aspects of femininity. In spells, it is represented by pouring water over things, making brews, healing spells, and ritual baths

Common Symbols

Gender: Feminine

Direction: West

Season: Autumn

Energy: Receptive

Symbols: Water, shell, rain, fog, cup, chalice

God(desse)s: Aphrodite, Isis, Yemaha, Osiris, Neptune/Poseidon, Mennanan

Time: Dusk

Age: Crone/Maturity

Colours: Blue, grey, black

Tarot: Chalices

Crystals: Aquamarine, blue tourmaline, pearl, coral, blue topaz, fluorite

Instruments: Harmonica, cymbals

Types of Magick: Mirror magick, lucid dreaming, cleansing

Magickal tools: Chalice, goblet, mirror

Spirits: Undines, Nymphs, Mermaids, Faeries of lakes, rivers, or ponds

Sense: Taste

Herbs: Ferns, moss, water lilies

Animals: Fish, water snakes, dolphin, turtle, crab, swan

Aether

Aether, also known as spirit, is present in everything. It is not tangible like the other four elements, but it is necessary in order for them to exist. It is essential for us to feel connected and spiritual, providing a sense of wellbeing and union

Common Symbols

Gender: Universal

Direction: Universal

Season: The Wheel of the Year

Energy: Universal

Symbols: Cord, rope

God(desse)s: The Lady, The Horned God

Age: Eternity

Colours: White

Sense: Higher reception

Animals: Dove

Join my Google Classroom to see a much more visually pleasing version, colour coded with pictures and symbols

#witchcraft #witches #witch #wicca #witchy #elements #the elements #earth #air #fire #water #aether #spirit

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tlatollotl · 5 years ago

Photo

Incense Burner Lid

Teotihuacán

About A.D. 375-450

Mexico, Teotihuacán

Provenience unknown, possibly looted

Due to its resemblance to a masked figure peering out of a stage-set, this censer (or "incensario") format is often called a "theater censer" in academic literature. It is generally believed to represent an ancestral or deified figure looking out from a temple shrine, with the rectangular frame doubling as both headdress and architectural façade.

Like all known examples of theater censers from Teotihuacán, this lid was found in fragments. Many of the mold-impressed "adornos" were reattached by conservators at the DAM in modern times. The careful disassembly of incensarios before their burial appears to have been a common practice at Teotihuacán and may have been considered a means of preparing these objects for the Otherworld. Both lid and base have plain backs, indicating these incensarios were designed with a single viewing angle in mind.

This lid is typical of incensarios discovered archaeologically at Teotihuacán, particularly those found in the Tetitla compound. Its substructure is composed of an inverted bowl topped by a slender chimney (from which smoke would pour when the censer was in use). The face and necklace are attached directly to this chimney. Additional mold-made decorative ornaments ("adornos" and "mantas") are attached to a bracket-shaped armature that frames the central face. These elements were sometimes affixed to their backing with small balls of wet clay before the entire incensario was fired. At other times, the lid, chimney, and armature were fired together as a single form, with separately-fired adornos attached later with a lime plaster adhesive. Overall, these incensarios appear to have been designed to be easily disassembled. After use, they were frequently taken apart and buried in caches or as burial offerings.

On this example, one encounters a relatively standard array of motifs. At the top, a feather tuft is flanked by two feather-rimmed mirrors, which once likely held reflective obsidian, mica, or pyrite. Below, a row of circular elements appear to represent jade headband disks, ornaments frequently seen in the headdresses worn by Teotihuacano figures in art at the site and abroad (see, for instance, 1986.611). Below these are two full-bodied butterflies, to either side of which are two bird faces (owls or quetzals), which stare out from feather-rimmed shields or mirrors, tail feathers curling out above them.

The two vertical slabs that form the sides of the armature are typical of this incensario format, although their iconography is enigmatic. On the right, an interlocked spiral is painted black atop a green and yellow ground. On the left, a butterfly hangs below what may be bundles of golden marigolds. Below, four rectangular "mantas" create a lower border, doubling as a sill or doorway. Each painted a different color, these may refer to the four directions, each of which was associated with a different color in Mesoamerican belief.

For an earlier version of this censer format, see 1985.625A-B. For a later version of this censer format, see 1965.207A-B. For an incensario influenced by these Teotihuacano formats, but produced on the South Coast of Guatemala, see 1975.180.

-Lucia R. Henderson, 2016

DAM

#archaeology #arqueologia #teotihuacan #mesoamerica #mexico #art #arte #history #historia #native american

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thegospelaradia · 5 years ago

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The Mirror Enchantment: to banish doubt and summon self confidence.

The idea for this spell came to me via a clutch of kitchen witches I used to run around with in Kansas City. I was at a low point: depressed, eating too much, drinking too much, etc. One afternoon, my accolyte "D" and I dropped in on a light worker friend "A." She was (and is) talented in many ways, and shaking cocktails like potions was certainly one of them.

Sipping something with St. Germain and homemade bitters, vaping weed from A's whimsical little rig, and sitting with two wonderful women not yet tired of my little pity parties - I remember looking into a full length mirror with a heavy sigh.

"You're such an amazing person, Aradia. I just wish you could see yourself the way that we do," said D.

"Like a magic mirror of self confidence!" said A.

I loved the idea. I then forgot all about it, only for it to come up recently in more or less the same way.

Now, you'll have to bear with me as I haven't *actually* performed this enchantment yet. But rather than wait another 10 years to write this spell, I decided to write and share this spell while it's kicking around in my head.

SO... with no further (maybe a little further) ado, let's crack on with this enchantment.

¡Ingredientes!

A hand mirror, preferably new

A list of positive traits/affirmations

Sage, cedar, palo santo; dealer's choice

Resin incense, preferably copal

Charcoal and a censer, obvi

Rose petals, preferably pink

Rose oil

Goddess or other magic oil (optional)

Lipstick, if you wear it (optional)

Rose of Jericho water (optional)

Right! Now, as I'm writing a spell I haven't cast, we're going to stick pretty closely to my usual "enchant object" spell (remind me to post that one sometime.)

Fill a basin or bowl with clean, fresh water. Invoke Venus (or whatever love/beauty deity you work with.) As you finish your incantation, scatter the rose petals over the water. With your work finger or wand, stir the bowl deosil 9 times. Maintain a stillness of mind. If that's challenging, just try to focus on positive, self-affirming thoughts. Negative and self loathing thoughts may appear - let them go. Don't try to banish them.

Now that we've blessed our basic Venus water, it's time to set the table. You don't need an altar for this - I do a lot of my spells sat on an altar cloth spread out on the floor (make sure to sweep!)

In the center, place your censer and light the charcoal. Begin sprinkling your resin incense over the charcoal. This is a stripped down version of a fire enchantment, so without that element it is crucial to maintain focus and clarity of mind. You must remember "I am the magick. I am magick unfolding"

With the copal burning, light your candles. I have never been big on complex candle magic, but if you want to go full on - five candles in an inverted pentagram (for the self), inscribed with qualities (Beautiful, Clever, Kind) that you want to embody or reinforce. The point of this spell isn't to change who you are - just the way you see yourself. Keep that in mind as you inscribe and dress your candles in rose oil.

Light your candles. As the flames rise, draw the energy up from the Source. Close your eyes and take a moment to check in. If your headspace gets murky, focus on your breathing.

Now it's time to start the enchantment itself.

(But what is an enchantment? You consecrate or bless a ritual tool - you enchant a mundane object to make it magical and an instrument of our will.)

To review: center - censer. Five candles in an inverted pentagram, inscribed and dressed. The bowl of rose water is north, the Rose of Jericho water is west, and "smudge bundle" on your right, east of the censer.

Hold in mind your clear intention: I AM BEAUTIFUL, etc.

Begin by passing the mirror through the incense smoke. Raise the smoke in circular patterns, folding it over the mirror.

The sage/cedar/palo santo comes next. I've talked before at length about the ethics of palo santo over sage, but I'll be honest: I use both. I'm Native American but we used copal to bless and cleanse, so I have zero excuse for my secret sage habit. If you use sage or any other "smudge stick" herbs, please try and buy it from ethical (Native) sustainable source.

Do what thou will, and all.

But where I do put my foot down is on how you use sage. You can't smudge - unless you're Native and from a tradition that does - but you can at least do this: pick up your sage bundle. Pull a few leaves off. Place them in your shell (or whatever). Put your sage bundle down.

Burn the leaves you pulled out of the bundle.

For Satan's sake, please don't burn the entire fucking bundle. Please. Just don't. That's not how it's done sweetie.

Bathe the mirror in smoke. Be mindful and consciously bless the mirror with this holy smoke. Cleanse it and consecrate your mirror in the name of the Moon - or whoever you work with.

Now the fun! Take the positive statements you wrote - they should each be on their own strip - and start casting them into the bowl of rose petals. Read each slip first, feel the truth of it, believe it, repeat it like a mantra if you have to. When they move from just words to your truth, drop them into the bowl.

Using the tool of your choice (your finger works just fine) stir the bowl, repeating the statements (or an invocation, incantation, etc.) over and over until you've charged the water with your positive self image. Visualize, if you want, the water glowing bright gold.

Take the mirror into your hand (if it isn't already) and look into it - hard. Pay attention to all of your "flaws" and self doubt. Take a deep breath and blow all of that self-hating bullshit away.

Dip your fingers into the rose water. Sprinkle or toss it on the mirror. Visualize the mirror shimmering, glowing, shining. Chant a little incantation over it. Do what you need to feel the mirror has changed into a magic mirror.

Now look into it. This might take a bit of imagination or visualization but see yourself changed in the mirror. Transformed into the best version of your self.

We're going to seal the enchantment with a kiss - sort of.

You've got three choices here. As usual, whatever feels natural for you, do that. Substitutions are fine. Definitely don't rush out for lipstick if you never use it.

Anyway, to seal the enchantment, speak over the mirror:

"Magic mirror: thrice blessed be,

I pray you never lie to me,

By the power of three by three,

In you the truth I'll always see,

The flaws over which I do obsess,

In (deity)'s name I charm and bless,

This magic mirror, with a kiss."

Now, do one of the following:

Sensually put your lipstick on and kiss the mirror,

Dab a little conjure oil on your neck. Draw a heart of the same oil (rose, goddess, perfume, etc.)

Take your index finger. Stick it into your mouth. Get it nice and wet. Use it to draw a circle around the edge of the mirror. This works well if you want to draw the circle with the incantation simultaneously. (And yes, I fully stole this from Madame Satan - thanks Sabrina!). If you draw the circle as you say the incantation, go ahead and give the mirror a kiss - for symmetry.

Now, if you have water from a Rose of Jericho handy, now is the time for it. It's easy to make but you need a Rose of Jericho. If you do have it, you know it brings prosperity and longevity - it's called the immortal plant.

Hold the mirror at eye level. Dip your hand into the Rose of Jericho water. Sprinkle it over the mirror and your head. Vibrate:

"Mirror mirror, what you see

I seal it for eternity.

My rose gold beauty

This mirror holds

Safe against time

From wrinkles and folds

Mirror mirror, know my will:

I shall always be most fair."

So, if you've got a mirror, go ahead and try this out. Or fix it because honestly I just made this up on the fly. I've already got my mirror picked out, so I'll let y'all know how it turns out.

Blessings my witches!

XOXO Magus Aradia

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thesunlitnerd · 5 years ago

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The elements are commonly invoked at the beginning of rituals or used in their physical forms to symbolically purify the ritual circle. Each element has associated symbols, rituals and meanings, which are outlined below.

Air:

Air represents the mind and intelligence, communication, telepathy, psychic powers, inspiration, imagination, ideas, knowledge, dreams and wishes. In rituals, Air is represented in the form of tossing objects into the wind, aromatherapy, songs, and hiding things in high places. It rules spells involving travels, instruction, freedom, knowledge, discovering lost items, and can also be used to develop psychic faculties. Air also rules the visualization.

Gender - Masculine

Direction - East

Energy Projective On Pentagram - Upper left

Symbols- Sky, wind, breezes, clouds, feathers, breath, vibrations, smoke, plants, herbs, trees, flowers

Goddesses- Aradia, Arianrhod, Cardea, Nuit, UraniaGodsEnlil, Kheoheva, Merawrim, Shu, Thoth

Spirits - Sylphs, Zephyrs, Fairies of trees, flowers and winds.

Time - Dawn

Cycle of life - Infancy

Season - Spring

Colours - Yellow, white, crimson

Zodiac signs- Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

Sense - Smell, hearing

Stones and jewels - Topaz, pumice, rainbow stones, crystals, amethyst, alexandrite

Magick tools - Censer, wand, sword

Metals - Tin, copper

Herbal - Clove, myrrh, pansy, primrose, vervain, dill, lavender

Trees - Acacia, Almond, Aspen, Hazel, Linden, Maple, Pine

Animals - Eagle, raven, spider

Instruments - Flute, wind instruments

Type of magick - Divination, concentration, wind magick, prophecy, Karma work

Ritual Action - Playing a flute, tossing objects in the air (over the shoulder), burning incense, hanging objects in trees

Fire:

Fire represents energy, inspiration, love, passion, leadership. In rituals, Fire is represented in the form of burning objects, love spells, baking, and lighting candles and fires. Fire is also the element of change and can represent magick itself. Fire is the most physical and spiritual of the elements.

Gender - Masculine

Direction - South

Energy Projective On Pentagram - Lower right

Symbols - Flame, lightning, heated objects (stones in particular), volcano, rainbow, sun, stars, lava, heat

Goddesses - Brigit, Hestia, Pele, Vesta

Gods - Agni, Horus, Prometheus, Vulcan

Spirits - Salamanders, Firedrakes

Time - Noon

Cycle of life - Youth

Season - Summer

Colours - Red, gold, crimson, orange, white

Zodiac signs - Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

Sense - Sight

Stones and jewels - Ruby, fire opal, volcanic lava, agathe

Magick tools - Dagger, sword, athame, censer, lamp, candles, incense, herb burning, paper requests, knife

Metals - Gold, brass

Herbal - Garlic, hibiscus, red peppers, cinnamon, coffee, beans, seeds, chilly peppers

Trees - Alder, Ash, Cashew, Cedar, Chestnut, Fig, Juniper, Mahogany, Oak, Holly, Rowan, Walnut

Animals - Dragon, cat, lion, horse, snake, cricket, mantis, ladybug, bee, scorpion, phoenix, coyote, fox

Instruments - Guitar, string instruments

Type of magick - Candle, healing, love spells, energy work

Ritual Action - Burning objects, wood, paper, heating, preparing decoctions, cauldron work

Water:

Water represents emotions, absorption, subconscious, purification, eternal movement, wisdom, the soul, and emotional aspects of love and femininity. In rituals, it is represented in the form of pouring water over objects, brew making, healing spells, ritual bathing, and tossing objects into water.

Gender - Feminine

Direction - West

Energy Projective on pentagram - Upper Right

Symbols - Ocean, river, shell, spring, lake, well, rain, fog, cup

Goddesses - Aphrodite, Isis, Marianne, Mari, Tiamat, Yemaha

Gods - Dylan, Ea, Manannan, Osiris, Neptune, Poseidon

Spirits - Undines, Nymphs, Mermaids, Fairies of ponds, lakes or streams.

Time - Twilight, dusk

Cycle of life - Maturity

Season - Autumn

Colours - Blue, turqoise, green, grey, indigo, black

Zodiac signs - Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Sense - Taste

Stones and jewels - Aquamarine, amethyst, blue tourmaline, pearl, coral, blue topaz, fluorite

Magick tools - Cup, cauldron, goblet, mirror

Metals - Mercury, silver, copper

Herbal - Ferns, lotus, mosses, bushes, water lilies, gardenia

Trees - Apple, Apricot, Birch, Cherry, Elder, Elm, Rose, Willow

Instruments - Anything resonant, harmonica, cymbals, also a flute made from real reed or willow bark

Animals - Dragon, water snakes, dolphin, fish, cat, frog, turtle, swan, crab

Type of magick - Mirror divinations, magnet work, love magick, lucid dreaming, cleansing, protection spells

Ritual Action - Bathing, dilution, washing, sprinkling, preparing cold herbal infusions

Earth:

Earth represents strength, abundance, stability, prosperity, wealth and femininity. In rituals, Earth is represented in the form of burying objects in the earth, herbalism, and making images out of wood or stone.

Gender - Feminine

Direction - North

Energy - Receptive

Symbols - Rocks, fields, soil, salt, caves, clay

On Pentagram - Lower left

Goddesses - Ceres, Demeter, Gaea, Mah, Nephtys, Persephone, Rhea

Gods - Adonis, Athos, Arawn, Cernunnos, Dionysus, Mardyk, Pan, Tammuz

Spirits - Gnomes, Dwarfs, Trolls

Time - Midnight, Night

Cycle of life - Age

Season - Winter

Colours - Black, green, yellow, brown

Zodiac signs - Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Sense - Touch

Stones and jewels - Rock crystal, emerald, onyx, jasper, salt, azurite, amethyst, quartz

Magick tools - Pentacle, Pentagram, salt, images, stones, gems, cords

Metals - Iron, lead

Herbal - Ivy, grains, oats, rice, patchouli, lichens

Trees - Cypress, Honeysuckle, Jasmin, Lilac (some say Lilac is Water)

Animals - Cow, bull, dog, horse, ant, bears, wolf

Instruments - Drums and percussion

Type of magick - Gardening, magnet images, stone (jewel divination, work with crystals), knot, binding, money spells, grounding, finding treasures, runes,

Ritual Action - Burying, making clay effigies, planting trees or herbs

Aether:

Arther also called Spirit, is the prime element present in all things, providing space, connection and balance for all Elements to exist. Aether is immaterial, unlike the Air, Fire, Water and Earth. Aether is essential to our sense of connectedness with spirit and well-being and represents the sense of joy and union.

Gender - Universal

Direction - Universal

Energy - Universal

Symbols - Cord, rope

On Pentagram - Upper

Goddesses - The Lady

Gods - The Horned God

Cycle of life - Eternity

Season - The wheel of year

Colours - White

Sense - Higher receptions

Animals - Dove

#energy work #spirituality #universalenergy #energy #motherearth #spiritualjourney #self healing #witchcraft #cleansing #elemental witch #air elemental #fire elemental #water elemental #elemental spirits #earth elemental

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