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zarameraki · 8 months ago

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♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡₊˚🥀₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 king x concubine 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 normal form sukuna (sorry yall but next time ill do his big boy one) 𖥔 he only has eyes for you 𖥔 you're his darling 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 breeding (!!!!) 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 8.8k

: ̗̀➛ notes: this took a whole WEEK to edit. im so obsessed with this story. it's my favourite thing ive written because i love period movies and dramas and really got to challenge my writing skills to give it more a fantasy-esque element. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

The diligent hands of Lord Sukuna Ryomen’s palace attendants scrubbed away the grime that clung to every inch of your weary form. There were no traces of tears in your eyes, despite the discomfort of the cleansing process.

Perhaps it was the residue of gratitude for an escape from a foster family who saw fit to barter you away for a pittance to fuel their vices.

The water surrounding you had transformed into a murky haze, carrying away the evidence of your former life's hardships.

Yet, amidst this cleansing ritual, you couldn’t shake the puzzling thought of why the guards had singled you out from the other young women within the household. Uraume, the overseer of palace affairs, had arrived alongside them, their presence looming over the proceedings with an air of mystery.

That morning, you were subjected to abuse in front of everyone at the central market, longing for someone to stand up for you. And someone did. They offered you an escape from that hellhole and into a world of luxury.

You weren’t going to complain now that you had accepted this new fate of yours.

“Ya’ got too many scars, girl,” remarked one of the elderly attendants, gently assisting you out of the steaming bath, her hands wrapping a towel around your shivering form. “Our powders will struggle to conceal ’em all. How did ya’ come by such marks?”

“From my foster family,” you murmured, gaze fixed upon your toes as if they held the weight of your past. The plush carpet beneath your feet offered a small comfort, a luxury unfamiliar to your upbringing.

Memories of their harsh discipline flooded back—the blistering gravel underfoot as punishment for daring to voice dissent. It was a brutal introduction to a world where obedience was paramount.

“A wretched lot,” the attendant muttered sympathetically.

Enveloped in a silk robe, she led you into a chamber shared by a cohort of women, a realm far removed from the confines of your previous abode. Here, space was ample—the expanse excessive, with beds lining the walls and a high ceiling adorned with a single chandelier.

As you entered, a symphony of pretty faces and inquisitive gazes greeted you. Women of all colours and shapes reclined luxuriously in plain robes, their hair intricately braided or cascading freely down their backs. Conversations paused, curiosity piqued by your arrival, as all eyes turned to welcome you into their midst.

Beneath the weight of their scrutinising stares, you found yourself shrinking. These women, draped in silk and adorned with jewels, were the king's favoured concubines, a fact repeatedly emphasised during your journey to the palace and even in the fragrant confines of the bathhouse.

Every instinct urged you to rebel, to refuse to be just another ornament in the king’s harem, but you understood the value placed on purity by the monarch.

Unfortunately, your innocence had been cruelly stolen from you by your foster father, leaving you tarnished in body and spirit. Lord Sukuna would have no use for a damaged flower in his garden of perfection.

In truth, you couldn’t even imagine an image of his face in your mind. His Lordship remained a mystery to those beyond the palace walls.

“Here ya’ are.” The attendant guided you to your bed. “That vanity there’s yours to use.” She gestured toward the communal area by the window, where two other young women were preparing themselves. “Once your hair dries, one of my girls will assist ya’ in preparin’ for your audience with His Lordship.” Her touch was gentle as she caressed your cheek. “Rest assured, dear, ya’ safe now.”

You attempted a smile, though the effort seemed Herculean amidst your weariness.

As the attendant departed, her scolding to the rowdy girls fading into the background, you nestled into the comforting embrace of your soft bedding, ignoring the hushed criticisms trailing in your wake.

She’s feeble.

Her hair lacks refinement.

The king would never entertain a lowly pauper.

She’ll be gone by tomorrow.

Their words, like venomous serpents, slithered through the air.

Amidst their degradation, you succumbed to exhaustion.

But your slumber was interrupted by the bustling commotion of handmaidens assembling around you.

Disoriented and scarcely given a moment to collect your thoughts, you found yourself swiftly escorted to the vanity, where the clamour of girls jostling for space filled the air.

They manipulated your locks, weaving intricate patterns into your hair, fashioning a crown braid atop your head while allowing the remaining tresses to cascade freely down your back.

Meanwhile, other attendants removed your robe, their hands moving with practised efficiency as they anointed your skin with fragrant oils, infusing it with the delicate essence of lavender.

Between the flurry of activity, the whispers of your fellow concubines hung in the air like a veil of awe and trepidation. Their eyes were drawn to the scars marring your skin, as they speculated about how the king would perceive your imperfections as repulsive.

Good.

You craved precisely that outcome.

If the king recoiled at your sight, it meant he wouldn’t desire you to bear his heir. If the tales circulating in the town about his monstrous nature held any truth, then he’d likely offer you death as a reprieve—and you’d welcome it with open arms.

Before facing the king, you stole a glance at your reflection, the final moments of solitude before your fate was decided. The powder concealed the imperfections of your skin, rendering it smooth and flawless. Your cheeks and lips bore a muted hue reminiscent of crushed cherries. Delicate white blossoms adorned your hair, woven into your braids by nimble fingers.

As you stood, the other women adorned you in a robe of silky fabric, its floral pattern draping over your form, cinched at the waist to accentuate your curves. Barefoot, you followed them out, the chill of the floor beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of anticipation and trepidation swirling within you.

“Good luck, pauper,” taunted one of the concubines, her voice dripping with disdain, echoed by a cacophony of mocking laughter.

Palms clammy with nerves, you shifted your gaze to the opulence of the palace corridors. Adorned with countless chandeliers and swathes of velvet drapery, they offered a stark contrast to the blooming back garden. Memories of tending to the earth and nurturing life back at your foster family’s home flooded your mind.

“Quickly now,” one of the maids urged, her voice tinged with urgency. “His Lordship detests tardiness.”

“I apologise.” You hastened your steps to keep pace with the group of attendants.

She halted before a grand set of double doors, guarded by imposing sentinels clad in formidable armour. With a flick of her wrist, the guards swung the doors open. She gently nudged you forward, and only as you crossed the threshold did the doors seal shut behind you.

You blinked, adjusting to the dimness within, scanning the chamber until your gaze alighted upon a pair of crimson glimmers opposite you. “My Lord?” You inclined your head and took hesitant steps toward the source of those fiery eyes.

“Come closer,” his command echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. The low resonance of His Highness Sukuna Ryomen’s voice was unexpectedly rich and velvety. You had envisioned a voice tinged with age, but instead, it possessed a rough texture that awoken something within you.

With hesitant steps, you approached until you stood at the edge of his bed, your fingertips grazing the diaphanous curtains that enveloped him in a cocoon of privacy.

“Closer,” he urged, coaxing you to unveil the enigma lying beyond the veil.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you obeyed, parting the curtains and gracefully crawled onto the mattress. The silkiness of the sheets were a blatant contrast to the roughness of your foster house’s. A pang of guilt tugged at your conscience as you realized the irony of finding solace in this luxurious confinement of being his concubine.

“Enough.” His abrupt order halted your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment.

As commanded, you obediently settled into your posture, folding your legs beneath you in the dimness. Within his shadowed realm, only the luminous crimson irises pierced through the gloom, studying you with an intensity that made your belly churn. Despite the curiosity burning within you, you restrained the impulse to voice your questions. Instead, you settled in the tranquillity that crowded the space between you.

“What is your name?” His inquiry cut through the hushed air.

“Y/N, my Lord.”

As your name slipped from your lips, he captured it delicately, repeating it like a sacred prayer. Each syllable danced on his tongue, imprinting itself upon the very essence of his being. In that moment, you observed a subtle shift—the shadows that had cloaked the chamber seemed to dissipate.

A soft, golden luminescence filtered through the parted curtains, cascading across half of Sukuna’s face.

You blinked in astonishment.

He appeared . . . young?

The age difference between you and him was not a chasm of decades, but rather a modest gap of no less than five years.

Physically, at least.

His appearance was striking, with locks of hair dyed a subdued pink hue, contrasting with a streak of darker shade beneath. His hair was styled into rugged spikes, lending an air of defiance. Intricate black markings adorned his features, tracing a path from his cheekbones down to his chin, while similar patterns wove across his strong shoulder, cascading over his defined pectoral muscles and sculpted abdomen.

As your eyes fell upon him, your heart quickened its pace, each beat a vicious drumming against your ribs. Gone was the expectation of a lord showing the signs of wisdom, with wrinkles upon his brow and a body marked by the passage of time. Instead, before you sat a vision of breathtaking beauty, defying your preconceived notions and leaving you breathless in awe.

With a graceful gesture, he swept aside the curtains, allowing them to unveil his entirety.

The same markings mirrored the other side of his face and cascaded down the length of his body, a mesmerising display of symmetry. Dark bands encircled his wrists, and his nails bore the same deep hue.

Poised against the headboard, he reclined with an air of effortless elegance, one knee raised as his elbow found a comfortable perch, while the other leg extended out. Though he was unclothed, a veil of silk sheets cloaked the lower half of his form.

“Remarkable,” you unknowingly whispered. Your hand clapped over your mouth. “I apologise, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s lips curved into a sinister grin, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light. While many would flee at the sight, you remained rooted in place, unable to tear your gaze away. A delicate flush spread across your cheeks, betraying the undeniable attraction simmering between your legs. He was absolutely divine, and the path of being his concubine suddenly didn’t seem so terrible.

Yet, the reality of sharing Sukuna with ten other women loomed over your thoughts like a shadow. The thought of him spreading his affections among so many others kindled a small flame of jealousy within you, mingled with confusion. Why hadn’t he impregnated at least one of them with the promise of an heir?

“Have you not been schooled in the art of lowering your gaze in the presence of nobility, Y/N?”

Your lashes fluttered as you registered your lapse in decorum, hastily averting your gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord, if my oversight has caused offence.” Surely, he wouldn’t punish you for a momentary lapse of admiration.

Would he?

A gentle touch beneath your chin guided your face upward. His fingers spread across your cheek, the warmth nearly forcing you to curve into his touch. Despite the temptation, your eyes remained obediently downward.

“Look at me.”

Your gaze lingered on him, tracing the delicate patterns etched over his cheek, the fiery hue of his irises, the elegant contour of his nose, and the soft curvature of his lips. Never before had you felt such a rousing desire towards any man. Yet fate had chosen to ensnare your heart with the one most forbidden to you.

“You bear a sadness that weighs heavily in your eyes,” he noted softly, his hand descending to the curve of your neck, his thumb caressing the frantic rhythm of your pulse. A low, melodic sound produced from his throat. “Tell me, my love, does the face before you stir fear within your heart?”

“It does not, my Lord. The fear of your appearance holds no dominion over me,” you declared with quiet resolve. “You’re quite . . . beautiful.”

Sukuna’s gaze sparked with a mixture of surprise and intrigue at your response.

Suppressing a nervous gulp, you silently reprimanded yourself for speaking so boldly to one of noble rank. Back in the confines of your former life, such defiance would have earned you swift punishment, yet here, in the presence of royalty, it could lead to your demise.

As you prepared to avert your gaze, ready to accept whatever consequences may come, Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense air before you could retreat.

“Don’t.”

In that moment, you found yourself questioning your instincts.

Why did you not cower in fear? Why did your body not tremble in the presence of a man who had slaughtered the lives of his enemies without hesitation? And most perplexing of all, how could you maintain unwavering eye contact with a figure of such formidable power?

“Remove your robe.” His grip remained firm around your throat, his thumb delicately tracing your pulse. “And do not stray your gaze elsewhere.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Your fingers loosened the fabric’s bindings, allowing it to cascade down your frame, and revealing the soft curvature of your form beneath. As it pooled around your lap, your breasts stood exposed to his scrutiny.

A shiver danced across your skin as his eyes traced the contours of your body, a faint smirk teasing his lips.

He brushed back strands of your hair, his touch trailing down your vertebrate. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, brows knitted together in contemplation, fingers repeatedly tracing the ridges of your scars.

“Turn around.”

The dreaded discovery that sent ripples of revulsion through the concubines had finally come to pass. Your scars lay exposed before the gaze of a powerful lord. Not only would he slit your throat, but also those of the maids who had tended to your needs, and perhaps even Uruame, who had brokered your purchase from the bastards responsible for your imperfections.

“Never before have I been compelled to repeat myself for a concubine.” His voice carried a lethal edge as he increased his grip around your throat. “Turn the fuck around.”

Your compliance came in slow, measured movements as you turned away, presenting your back to him in a gesture of submission. His hands gathered the strands of your hair, lifting them aside to reveal the raw truth etched into your skin. His fingers traced the jagged remnants of whip lashes, the seared imprints of cigars, and the cruel reminders of knife wounds inflicted by a foster father turned tormentor.

Silent tears traced a path down your cheeks, as you sat in a state of numbness, your gaze fixed upon the closed door of Sukuna’s chamber.

A tender sensation, soft and moist, grazed your back, prompting a reflexive twitch in your left shoulder.

Turning slightly, you beheld Sukuna pressing his lips against the scar that marred your shoulder blades.

“My Lord—”

“I did not ask you to speak,” he murmured over your skin, sending a tremor through your frame. “Rise onto your knees.”

Obeying his command, you ascended onto your knees, feeling the weight of his hands settle upon your waist. His lips trailed a path of reverence, bestowing kisses upon each mark that scarred your skin, from your marrow to your nape.

Your breath caught in a delicate dance of exhales, a whispered symphony escaping your parted lips. The wet caress of his tongue sent ripples of sensation coursing through your being.

His arm circled your waist, drawing you into the sanctuary of his embrace. A fleeting kiss graced the nape of your neck, followed by the suction of his lips upon the tender side of your neck. His soft hands possessively held the curve of your breasts, cradling their weight.

Your head reclined against his strong shoulder.

With his gaze fixed upon you, his lips glistened with a hint of moisture, while his crimson eyes locked onto your own human-like ones. You dared not divert your gaze as he previously ordered. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, sending lightning strikes through your frame.

Unlike the non-consensual encounter of the past, there was no hint of agony; only a tantalising blend of pleasure that left you breathless, without a protest or helpless whimper. Instead, a sigh of pure rapture escaped your lips, encompassing your body in an embrace.

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he had stumbled upon a long-sought treasure.

His fingertips skated down your torso, gliding toward your centre. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Holding his gaze became a daunting challenge as he skillfully teased your sensitive nub, causing your breath to quicken and your chest to rise and fall with each exhilarating sensation.

Sukuna slid his middle finger into you. “You’re incredibly drawn, Sad Eyes,” he murmured, the endearment he had bestowed upon you almost provoking a smile. His lips grazed your ear as he continued. “Perhaps I should stretch you out”—he pushed in his ring finger, forcing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat and an involuntary arch of your body against his chest—“so that your cunt is able to welcome my cock.”

You stifled the knot rising in your throat as Sukuna plunged his fingers into you. Such profound bliss seemed inconceivable with mere digits alone.

“My Lord.” Your breath caught as he increased his tempo. “My—” Each thrust intensified the knot in your stomach, threatening to unravel you entirely. You teetered on the brink, dangerously close to staining his fingers with your release. A sharp gasp choked out of you as he struck a wondrous chord deep within. “Please, my Lord. I beg of you— I will soil your hand if you persist—” But your plea dissolved into a cry of ecstasy before you could utter another word.

Sukuna’s laughter danced teasingly in the hollow of your ear, leaving you utterly spellbound.

You were overheated, overstimulated, overridden by the explosive undoing from his fingers. Breathless and consumed by lust, your world spun as he seized your jaw and crushed his lips to yours.

In that electrifying moment, his tongue invaded your mouth, initially startling you, yet you surrendered to the rhythm.

Sukuna leaned back slightly after planting a tender peck on your lips. Exhaling softly, he threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As his lips met yours once more, gentler this time, your hand ventured to trace the contours of his adorned chest.

“You are quite the vixen.” A playful glint danced in his eyes. “How valiant of you to seduce a lord into bestowing kisses upon his concubine.” A broad smile graced his lips, leaving you uncertain whether his words were playful jest or genuine admiration.

“Do you not bestow your kisses upon all your concubines, my Lord?”

“I do not pleasure their cunts, either.”

His speech carried the brashness of a tempest, a departure from the expected decorum one associated with royalty. Sukuna Ryomen defied conventions. It was a trait uncommon among lords, yet one that intrigued you deeply. His demeanour, both in battle and in the intimate confines of the bedchamber, lacked the softening. But you found yourself drawn to his unfiltered honesty, appreciating the absence of cryptic notions.

As you sat before him, considering your next words carefully, a surge of courage emboldened you to reveal your truth.

“My Lord,” you began, your voice quivering with uncertainty, “I . . . I am not pure.”

“Given the sounds you were drawing out,” he quipped with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t have surmised otherwise.” He assisted you in rising from where you rested against his chest, positioning you before him. Observing your solemn expression, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “Was your satisfaction not fulfilled?”

“Indeed, my Lord, it surpassed any expectation,” you confessed, worrying your lip as he sighed impatiently. “But I must disclose . . . I am not chaste.”

Sukuna’s response was subdued, save for the faint twitch in his jaw. He averted his gaze from yours momentarily, reaching for the decanter on his bedside table and pouring himself a measure of spirits.

“Speak,” he instructed, his tone clipped.

“It occurred before I reached maturity,” you murmured softly, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself. “My foster father—” Your words faltered as Sukuna raised a hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comprehension of your unspoken anguish.

“I need not hear more.” He swiftly consumed the crimson liquid in a single gulp. “You are dismissed for the night.”

“But my Lord’s desires remain unmet—”

“Leave,” he commanded, his tone final and unwavering.

With a gulp, you hastily gathered your robe around your form, delicately extricating yourself from his expansive bed.

Just as you thought to retreat, a firm hand seized your wrist, drawing you back into Sukuna’s embrace. His lips melded with yours in an intoxicating kiss, causing both your gazes to flutter open when he pulled away. A faint smirk played upon his lips as he adjusted the robe over your shoulder.

“Next time,” he murmured, plucking a flower from the adornments in your hair and placing it upon his bedside, “you shall grace my chambers without such distracting embellishments upon yourself.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” you replied with a respectful bow of your head, awaiting his dismissal until he gestured for you to depart with a casual wave of his hand.

In the shared chambers, your fellow concubines swirled around your bed, eager to hear of your inaugural encounter with Lord Sukuna.

Each girl shared their own vivid tales, painting scenes of ecstasy under the cloak of darkness, where the king’s touch invoked sensations akin to celestial bodies colliding, or where unfamiliar pleasures erased the boundaries of their throat—whatever that latter entailed.

Though a twinge of jealousy flickered within you, it was swiftly overshadowed by a swell of pride. The concubines pleasured Sukuna in darkness, the same darkness you had willingly entered, before his touch had set ablaze a world of gold for you.

They were merely beautiful means of physical gratification for their lord, devoid of the intimacy you shared—his fingers delving deep into your core. And never had any of them spoken of kisses exchanged. Sukuna had spoken true when you questioned if others received similar treatment.

But why you?

Why, after a mere span of ten hours within the palace walls, did you find yourself, dare you entertain the notion, as his favoured? What magic did you possess that drew him to you, and how had you managed to seduce his lips, his fingers, to meet yours in such an intimate embrace?

“Did he spend himself inside you?” one of the girls whispered, prodding your knee to rouse you from your silence.

“No.”

“Aye, he never does,” remarked a golden-haired girl with a resigned sigh. “He sees to it that we consume some berries afterward, claiming they prevent conception. Strange, isn’t it? Especially if he’s so eager for an heir.”

Another girl hushed her, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. “Did he take you from behind? That’s his favoured position, you know. He’s had us all that way.”

You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.

“And did you savour his taste?” came the next question. “It’s quite rich in sodium—”

“Girls!” A booming voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, startling you and the other concubines into immediate attention. You caught sight of the elderly attendant who oversaw your care, hands planted firmly on her hips as she observed the chaotic scene before her.

With a disapproving huff, she pivoted sharply on her heel and departed, leaving a lingering sense of reprimand in her wake.

As the frenzied chatter about Sukuna’s body attributes gradually dissolved into the quietude of sleep, morning arrived with its routine of communal showerings.

Throughout the shared bath, you silently scrubbed away the remnants of the night, indulging your fellow concubines about your previous life in town.

Upon drying off and exiting the bathing chamber, you were met with an unexpected sight: a gathering of the girls clustered around your bed.

Navigating through the throng, you reached your space to discover a resplendent scarlet silk robe embroidered with intricate black floral patterns.

Gingerly lifting the note placed atop the fabric, you read Sukuna’s precise handwriting. Curious glances from the other concubines peered over your shoulders in anticipation.

No distracting embellishments, Sad Eyes.

“What does that mean?” a curious whisper floated through the air, followed by murmurs of intrigue from the other girls. “Why does he call you ‘sad eyes’?”

You clutched the letter to your chest, suppressing a grin as you ignored the questions, the mockery, and the jostling of bodies around you. Your attention was fixated on the magnificent robe gifted to you by His Lordship.

For the remainder of the evening, you slept without any interruptions, seeking to compensate for the countless nights spent battling insomnia within the confines of your foster home.

You observed with a keen eye that none of the other girls were ushered to Sukuna’s chambers; their time seemed to veer toward strolls in the back garden or spent in the dormitory, indulging in wine-fueled scandals about the palace staff, as was their custom.

As the clock struck eight in the evening, a troupe of maids entered the chamber bearing dinner trays. A wave of anticipation swept through the room as the other girls eagerly accepted their meals and accompanying pitchers of water. Your own stomach rumbled in hunger, awaiting your own turn.

But that moment never arrived.

Instead, the maid bypassed your bed entirely, moving on to the next. A surge of apprehension rippled through you as a handmaiden approached, guiding you away from the mattress and toward the vanity.

“What about my dinner?” you asked as the attendants groomed your hair.

“His Lordship has extended an invitation for you to dine with him tonight,” came the reply.

The room fell into a sudden hush.

Dine with him?

The notion sent a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before you could process further, you found yourself pulled upright, your garments removed to be replaced by the scarlet robe.

Envy flickered in the eyes of the other concubines as they observed, their resentment palpable as they stabbed at their food with exaggerated aggression. It wasn’t your doing that Sukuna had taken an unexpected interest in you.

With no adornments save for a dab of crushed cherry paste upon your lips, you were escorted to Sukuna’s chambers.

Once more, the imposing doors swung open, and you found yourself gently ushered into the chamber. As they sealed shut behind you, the room was flooded with light. Sukuna’s figure stared out at the moonlit gardens outside, clad in a billowing white silk robe.

“My Lord,” you greeted respectfully, inclining your head in deference.

“Draw near.”

Complying with his directive, you approached and stood at his side. His presence loomed over you, his stature commanding and formidable, capable of engulfing you entirely with a single embrace. Not that such thoughts dared to linger in your mind.

“Why is your face flushed?” he asked, his gaze penetrating.

You blinked, attempting to dismiss the telltale warmth creeping up your cheeks. “It’s nothing, my Lo—”

Before you could finish, Sukuna turned your chin towards him, his palm coming to rest against your forehead. A nervous swallow traced its way down your throat at his touch, his eyes trailing down your form, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they settled upon you in your robe.

“Thank you for your gracious gift,” you murmured, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks.

His fingers trailed through your hair, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. “I anticipate nothing less than thoroughly enjoying the privilege of removing it off of you.”

You blushed deeper at his statement.

“Come now. I’ve brought a surprise for you.” He took your hand in his with a tug, guiding you towards a doorway. With a simple flick of his fingers, the door parted, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.

Your gaze widened in astonishment. “How did you do that, my Lord?”

“Do what?”

“You opened the door without laying a hand on it.”

Sukuna’s striking blood-coloured eyes cut to you. “There is much about me that will be unveiled in due course, my love. What you perceive is but a guise for my true nature.” His smile, oddly childlike, sent a chill down your spine.

Was he some sort of sorcerer? You’d only heard whispers of human anomalies lurking beneath the earth’s surface or sealed within vessels, but historical accounts weren't exactly your cup of tea.

“I ventured into town today,” he said.

“Oh.” You swallowed hard, recovering from his previous statement. “I hope it was a fruitful trip.”

“Indeed, quite fruitful.”

In the soft glow of the distant hallway, Sukuna’s face came into view, casting a spell of trepidation upon your heart. His features were drawn into a mask of stoicism, his eyes devoid of warmth, and his lips pressed into a firm line, jaw rigid with tension.

Parting the curtains, Sukuna drew you near, his arm sweeping out to reveal a horrifying sight: your foster father, bound to a chair with chains, wearing the cruel marks of torture.

His face marred by countless wounds, an eye absent, and teeth scattered at his feet. His dignity stripped away, his vulnerability laid bare in his nakedness, and his manhood amputated.

The sickening lurch in your stomach threatened to betray your composure. “F-Forgive my intrusion, my Lord, but is he . . . is he dead?”

Sukuna’s response was a gilded dagger from within his robe, its handle decorated with a jewel reminiscent of your own captivating eyes. Nestled within the hilt was the very flower he had plucked from your hair. Upon the blade, your name was inscribed.

“Do as you wish, my beloved,” he whispered, his voice stained with dark fascination, offering you the instrument of your foster father’s fate with a chilling sense of detachment.

You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to commit such a heinous act.

Despite the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon you by the bastard, the idea of taking another’s life filled you with a trembling dread.

Yet, the itch to end the torment, to rid the world of such a vile presence, simmered just beneath the surface as you stood before him, his life slipping away.

A hand trailed down the back of your head, guiding your trembling fingers to grasp the dagger tightly.

Looking up, you met Sukuna’s gaze, his expression hollow, his features obscured by shadows. This was the face of the Devil that cursed his enemies on their knees and had them willingly submit to death.

With a push from behind, you stumbled forward, drawing closer to your step-father’s prone form.

Glancing back at Sukuna, you were met with an incongruously bright smile. Quite a twisted paradox, His Lordship.

Your step-father sat unconscious, the stench of his bodily fluids assaulting your senses. His wounds oozed with a sickening mixture of blood and pus, his laboured breaths the only indication of life remaining within him. The scene was painfully familiar, a mirror image of the torment you had endured countless times before.

But now, someone had intervened, offering you a chance at liberation, a chance to end the cycle of abuse once and for all.

You glanced back again.

Until Sukuna.

Your gaze reluctantly returned to the true embodiment of cruelty before you. With a steady hand, you raised your arm, wielding the dagger with purpose.

It found its mark in your foster-father’s chest, a chilling silence punctuated only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. Ignoring the strangled cry that erupted from him, you withdrew the blade, then drove it back into his heart.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

His lifeblood painted your face and stained your pristine garments, mingling with the fabric in a macabre dance of crimson. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a mere splash of vibrant colour upon your robe.

No one would dare suspect the truth.

No one would dare come near if they knew of your sin.

No one, except Sukuna.

Once the monster over your bed was consigned to the depths of hell, his guts spilling onto the floor around your bare feet, you allowed yourself a moment of grim satisfaction.

With a contemptuous snarl, you spat upon him, a visceral response to the years of degradation he had inflicted upon you for every misstep.

A comforting warmth touched your back.

Startled by the sudden contact, you tensed before easing at the sight of Sukuna’s faint smile.

As he reached to caress your cheek, you instinctively recoiled, lowering your gaze in deference.

“Forgive me, my Lord,” you murmured, “but I cannot permit you to spoil your hands with the blood of this man.”

Sukuna’s shoes entered your line of sight as he tilted your chin upward, his moon-white sleeve wiping away the traces of blood from your mouth and its vicinity. “You appear rather exquisite painted in blood, Sad Eyes. Perhaps I ought to designate you as my prized assassin instead of a mere concubine.”

“I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I cannot partake in killing . . . again.”

“You need not worry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he drew near. “I will defend you from any who cast their gaze upon you, let alone lay a hand upon your delicate form. Those who dare cross that line will face my wrath, their very existence extinguished before your eyes. Not a single tear shall stain your cheeks.” His lips brushed against yours. “From this moment forward, fear shall not reside within you. By my side, you shall command fear itself, my love.”

That night, Sukuna bathed you in the sanctuary of his chambers, washing away the traces of blood from your skin as you gazed at him with a sense of wonder. It wasn’t the superficial admiration the other concubines whispered about—it was a profound affection blossoming within you, nurtured by power and protection.

He draped you in the luxurious folds of one of his silk robes, summoning servants to prepare dinner. Seated upon his lap, he fed you spoonfuls of rice and chicken, even as your stomach protested its fullness. Soft kisses peppered your neck like a sweet dessert, culminating in one upon your lips before he reluctantly released you to retire to your dormitory.

In the ensuing weeks, Sukuna would consistently send a crafted robe ahead of each meeting—in the serene seclusion of his chambers, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows upon the walls as you dined together.

Over the course of these intimate dinners, he eagerly absorbed your musings, whether they revolved around the narratives of books discovered within the palace library or your adeptness with herbs and plants, nurtured by your profound knowledge.

On occasion, as the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Sukuna would summon you for a stroll in the haven of the back garden. Woven between the fragrant blooms, you’d dance about with childlike enthusiasm, identifying various flowers and tracing their lineage.

Ever the attentive listener, Sukuna trailed behind you, his gaze fixed upon your animated figure. He would only speak when you fell silent, demanding you to continue sharing the familial ties between apples, plums, and the roses they stemmed from.

Within the crevice of your soul, the once withered garden of affection had flourished into a lush wilderness, blossoming with untamed wildflowers and clouds that spelled out his name.

Sukuna inhabited your every waking thought, his intoxicating mouth that worshipped your body left you giggling in delight behind your hands.

Yet, each encounter with a fellow concubine, flushed and eager with tales of their rendezvous with him, felt like thorns piercing your tender heart. Jealousy, like ivy creeping upon stone, entwined itself around your every plagued thought. Your gaze often strayed to the bedside drawer where the dagger lay dormant. The mere mention of his physique by the other women tormented your soul relentlessly.

Why hadn’t Sukuna taken you as he had with every other concubine? You had grown accustomed to his presence, even eager to reciprocate the pleasure he gifted you every evening. You had offered yourself willingly, aching for the intimacy that would bind you even closer to him. But he had not claimed you in the same manner, not entered you fully, not seeded his legacy within you.

Did he question your worthiness? Did he see you merely as a transient pleasure? Were you destined to remain just a concubine, forever denied the honour of carrying his child?

“Why do you remain silent?” Sukuna asked, turning the pages of the book you had suggested to him; he was already half-way through.

You were seated snugly between his legs upon the bed, your back rested against his chest, fingers idly toying with the strands of your hair. “I find myself devoid of words this evening.”

“Hmm.” Sukuna took a leisurely sip of his drink before placing it aside. “Surely you can conjure something. You know well enough that I cannot endure your silence.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “Well, I apologise for failing to provide you with amusement, my Lord.”

Sukuna snapped the book shut.

You instinctively pressed your lips together, silently chiding yourself for the unintended sharpness in your voice.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to maintaining your composure, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Deep down, you believed that he wouldn’t inflict harm upon you or cast you out of his chambers. But the nagging thought chewed at you.

This was Sukuna Ryomen, and you . . . well, you were merely a shadow in comparison.

“If you crave my touch,” he breathed softly into your ear, “all you need to do is utter the request.”

With a determined resolve, you turned to face him, settling yourself upon his lap. Sukuna regarded you with a quirked eyebrow, a quiet acknowledgment of your unconventional audacity.

“I do crave your touch, my Lord,” you confessed, your voice a hushed plea, “but not only with your hands or lips. I long to feel you in a different manner.” Your gaze drifted down to his pelvis, the unspoken appetite evident in your eyes. “I crave that.”

Sukuna exhaled heavily, his gaze piercing as he addressed you. “So, you’ve been withholding your words simply because I haven’t fed you my cock?"

Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt proclamation, though you had grown accustomed to his coarse mannerisms over time.

“Yes, my . . . Lord.” Your voice carried a mixture of embarrassment. “I’ve endured three long months of anticipation, patiently waiting to share in the pleasures enjoyed by your other consorts. Yet, with the arrival of autumn, I find myself still untouched by the experiences they so openly boast about.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Are you asking me to bed you merely for the purpose of becoming a notch in your bragging rights?”

“Never, my Lord!” you protested vehemently, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes. “I would never demean you with such vulgar talk in public. I’ve spun tales to the others, concealing the truth of our encounters. They remain oblivious to the pleasures you’ve granted me.” Your fingers traced the intricate markings on his chiselled abdominal muscles. “If my spoiled state displeases you, if I am deemed unworthy of your touch, pray, inform me now. Regardless, my sole wish is to fulfil His Lordship’s needs.”

Sukuna disentangled your hands from his chest, a gesture that caused a fissure to form within your heart, forcing your body to instinctively withdraw from his touch.

Just as you began to pull away, he swiftly encircled his arm around your waist, tugging you back onto his lap with a firm grip. Before you could utter a single word, his lips descended upon yours, silencing any protest with a passionate kiss.

With a purposeful touch, he skillfully divested you of your robe, revealing the curves of your form beneath. His hands, warm and adept, began to massage your supple breasts, kindling soft gasps from your lips. His own trailed a wet path downward, leaving a bridge of feverish kisses along the expanse of your throat, lingering over the rapid pulse beneath your skin.

As his lips found purchase on the tender flesh of your neck, his actions became more urgent, his touch more demanding. A pinch at your pebbled nipples sent a shiver of sensation coursing through you, followed by the heat of an open-mouthed kiss.

Your gaze drifted downwards, enchanted by the sight of his tongue encircling the sensitive spots, suckling on the swollen buds like a babe. Already, heat was building within the depths of your being, igniting a flame that spread between your legs.

Sukuna laid you back, relishing the delicate flavour of your lips as his fingers skillfully sought out your throbbing clit, stimulating it with unhurried circles.

With practised ease, he slipped two fingers inside you, quickening his rhythm without preamble. Your hand instinctively traced down to his chest, undoing the fastenings of his robe.

“Take it,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Satisfy your lord, my love.”

Your fingers curled around his pulsating cock, the very object of desire that the other girls had passionately recounted. The knowledge of their previous intimacies with him only stoked the flames of envy within you, spurring you to intensify your ministrations.

With a surge of determination, you quickened the pace of your caresses, applying pressure with your thumb upon his sensitive tip while fondling his sacs.

Sukuna’s grin widened against your lips as he reciprocated with equal zeal, slipping a third finger into your slick heat until he was fully engulfed by your swollen core.

Together, you sailed upon the waves of raw carnal desire, locked in a lecherous race to reach your climax, each vying to be the first to cross the finish line—

Sukuna’s low, guttural moans resonated throughout the chamber.

You had achieved victory.

His essence spilled forth into your waiting hands, his cock convulsing with the intensity of his release. Moments later, you succumbed to your own climax, a soft cry escaping your lips.

With care, Sukuna withdrew his hand from your centre, and you instinctively examined your palm, noting the striking resemblance of his essence to your own.

You tentatively brought your fingers to your lips, savouring the taste of him.

“I did not instruct you to do that,” he growled, his gaze blazing as you tasted him. “But I suppose I’ll permit it.”

“It is salty,” you murmured, almost absentmindedly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you women incapable of discussing anything besides my cock?” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue before tenderly cradling the back of your head, drawing you to sit upon his lap. Your laughter softened into chuckles, a smile playing upon your lips.

“Did I please you, my Lo—”

“Sukuna,” he interrupted firmly. “Only you may address me by my given name.”

“My L—”

“I command it.” His tone left no room for argument.

You affirmed your agreement with a nod.

He was Sukuna.

Your Sukuna.

“Very well, Sukuna.” You felt a subtle shift in the air between you. His chuckle rumbled softly. “Shall I turn around for you?”

“And why do you deem such an unnecessary act necessary?”

“Because—” You suppressed the urge to divulge the whispers of the other concubines regarding his favoured position. “Never mind. How would you prefer me to present myself to you?”

“As you are,” Sukuna answered, his grip tightening around himself. “How you managed to have me spend by your hand in under five minutes is a marvel beyond my comprehension.”

Internally, you gave yourself a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Now, my love,” he said, inclining his chin towards his erection, “will you do my cock the honour of sitting on it?”

Licking the grin of your lips, you nodded, rising to your knees. With nimble fingers, you positioned his hardened length at your entrance, gradually lowering yourself onto him.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Sukuna’s lips, his hands instinctively grasping your hips. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, enduring the initial sting of penetration. Perhaps every touch of his fingers had been a meticulous groundwork for this pinnacle moment.

As you settled into your seat upon him, you granted yourself a minute to acclimate to the sheer magnitude of him stretching and filling your tight, supple walls.

Sukuna tilted his head back, impatience evident in his eyes. “Will you begin moving at a pace befitting this century, Sad Eyes?”

“Just a moment,” you retorted, your tone tinged with irritation.

“Unfortunately, the sight of your leaking cunt is testing my patience,” he remarked, his gaze lingering provocatively on your flushed form.

Collecting yourself, you affirmed your resolve with a nod before subtly adjusting your position, and swaying your hips forward. His strong hands guided you, aiding your movements as you sought a rhythm. “Gods, you’re— You’re quite large. It’s rather discomforting.”

“Ah, where has the enthusiasm to please your lord vanished, my love?” His laughter echoes through the chamber as he leaned back, amused by your scowl. “I must confess, your defiance is perhaps your most alluring trait. It has crossed my mind more than once during moments of handling myself in the bath.”

Your brow furrowed in dismay.

It was evident that the other concubines possessed far greater expertise in pleasuring him than you ever could. All you could manage was to feign enthusiasm, your movements faltering and disjointed, as you struggled to produce even a fraction of the satisfaction they effortlessly blessed him with. His laughter, which wasn’t helping your cause, bore an uncanny resemblance to the mocking tones of the girls who had taunted you in the past.

You no longer wished to endure this charade.

You halted in your tracks, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze, your eyes fixated instead on his throat. “It appears . . . that I may not be adequately versed in fulfilling your needs. I shall endeavour to educate myself further before making another attempt. For now, I request permission to retire for the evening, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s grip tightened as he seized your jaw, compelling you to meet his gaze. “You dare to defy my command to address me by my given name?” His smile remained wicked as he drew your face closer to his own. “Remember, my love, there is a boundary to which I tolerate your rebellion. Do not allow my affections to cloud your judgement. I remain your Lord, above all else. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you managed to gasp out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you replied, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

With a swift motion, he released your sore jaw, and before you could even consider easing the ache, his lips crashed against yours.

In that moment, control slipped from your grasp entirely. His hands gripped the flesh of your buttocks possessively, guiding your movements as he claimed you with a primal savageness that left you shaking in his embrace.

“Does it pain you, my beloved?” Sukuna growled, his fingers curling around your nape possessively. “Do you feel the strain of my cock as I breach your tender walls?”

You whimpered softly, your head nodding against the curve of his neck.

“Fear not, my darling. I will diligently train this cunt of yours to accommodate every inch of me, dusk, dawn, and twilight. Your throat, too, shall be honed to fulfil my every whim, wherever and whenever I demand.” With a swift motion, he tugged your hair, forcing you to meet his glare. “And should you dare to entertain thoughts of defiance with any other man beyond the confines of my chamber, rest assured, there will be consequences.”

“Sukuna,” was all you gasped, eyes rolling back as his tip probed the depths of your womb. His tongue traced the delicate curve of your throat before shoving into your mouth, drawing out your own to suckle on. In the heat of the moment, your hands roamed aimlessly, torn between grasping at his waist, clutching his shoulders, or caressing his cheeks.

“Oh, how I love the sight of your breasts greeting me in my face.” Sukuna tightened his hold on each of them with a deadly grasp, savouring the melodious cry that escaped your lips. He lowered his head and teethed each nipple, drawing it out and relishing in the masochism of your sharp nails clawing down his back. “Deeper, my darling. You alone hold the privilege of marking my flesh. Let my scars mirror yours.”

With caution, you shifted your hands to rest upon his firm pectoral muscles before you could accidentally claw out his spinal cord.

Sukuna’s touch drifted from your bruised breasts to cradle your face, guiding your gaze to meet his crimson one.

Encouraged by his comforting presence, you arched your hips forward with newfound confidence. His fingers swept through your hair, pushing it away as he offered reassuring nods.

Now, the reins rested firmly within your grasp.

“Fuck . . .” Leaning back against the headboard, he released soft sighs. Warm breaths escaped his parted lips as you continued increasing your ministrations. Your gaze momentarily flickered to your favourite book resting on his bedside table before returning to his face.

Suddenly seized by an impulse, you leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon his lips, trailing upward to gently brush against his cheekbones, tracing the intricate markings lining his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Someone must play the role of the tender one between us, Sukuna,” you answered, mirroring the attention he had given your scars during your initial encounter. With each kiss, you felt his eyes tracing your movements, following the path of your lips as they journeyed across his face, landing upon his nose or the pulse of his neck.

“My beloved,” Sukuna’s voice caressed your ears, drawing your focus entirely to him, “listen closely to my words.”

You halted your movements, a curious expression dancing in your eyes. “What troubles you?”

With a deliberate motion, he guided your hips forward, his gaze unwavering. “Throughout the night, I will fill your womb ceaselessly, and in mere weeks, you shall carry my legacy within you.” Your heart leaped into your throat, fluttering with an overwhelming rush of emotion. “Peril will shadow your every step. Those who oppose us will stop at nothing to eliminate your life and the life of our child. Do you comprehend the gravity of our situation?”

You blinked back the tears, resigning yourself to the inevitable.

“But I vow upon my honour, such an atrocity shall never come to pass. I will sever entire bloodlines if even a single strand of your precious hair were harmed.” His movements quickened as he thrusted into you.

Your grip tightened on his shoulders again, gasping for breath between erratic pants.

“At dawn’s light, all concubines shall be reassigned to palace duties. You need only point out those who have dared to trouble you, though their transgressions are already known to me.” His motions became more intense as he pressed you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head. “And when the sun graces the horizon, you, my beloved, shall be proclaimed as my queen.”

Your voice wailed through the chamber as you cried out his name, drowning in the waves of scorching pleasure never before experienced.

Instead of seeing celestial bodies colliding, your gaze met the deep crimson of his irises, those same eyes that had captivated you on that very first night.

“Sukuna . . . ”

With a smile mirroring his own, you tilted your head upward, silently beckoning him to seal the moment with a kiss. As he obliged, his cock pulsed within you, filling you with his warmth until every fibre of your being was tethered with his.

But he didn’t withdraw. Just as he had promised, he intended to keep you close throughout the night, to claim you as his own.

And in that moment, as you laid with him, you welcomed the dawn of a new chapter standing beside him, prepared to reign as Sukuna Ryomen’s queen.

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oatflatwhite · 8 months ago

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the inherent homoeroticism of war media: a completely unserious presentation by me

[note: some slides have been removed because they're literally just fancams and also i had more than 30 slides boo tumblr image limits]

BIBLIOGRAPHY (just going in order of slides)

and your knees are driving me wild - mash s02e08

george mackay has found his niche in homoerotic war movies

war stories are inherently homoerotic. that's how we got stucky

hangman you look good - top gun: maverick (gif by babyrooster)

letter of recommendation: watching masters of the air secondhand

it's not just sports - masters of the air e02

1 being not gay at all, 10 being liberace in an f-16

we'll go to chicago - band of brothers e01 (gif by @fkmylif3)

it is the law that every piece of war media

kim is a homoseggsual - kath & kim s01e02

Untitled (You Construct Intricate Rituals) - Barbara Kruger

The Secret History of Australia's Gay Diggers - Ben Winsor (+ Paul Fussell quoted within)

Sexuality, Sexual Relations and Homosexuality - Jason Crouthamel

Soldiers bathing in Malaya - AWM

Private Frank Crocker letters featured in Sebastian Faulks and Hope Wolf, A Broken World: Letters, Diaries and Memories of the Great War (2014), pp. 75-78.

mike's mic screencap my beloved <3

winnix gifs by @bandofbrothers2001 @preacherboyd @galebucky

winnix art by @andromeddog

winnix art by @onefineginger

In storms and at sunset by jouissant

winnix memes/text posts: 1 (@bleedingcoffee42) 2 (@krakerjaksstuff) 3 (@claudycod) 4 (@lewis-winters) 5 (@mon-mothmas-collar)

man is a hopeless creature i don't like much of anyone (@sluttyhenley)

You Create Intricate Rituals: The Homoerotic Action Movie - Rebecca Radillo (Lyvie Scott featured)

val kilmer icemav warrior compliation by @mavernick2

t as in top gun: maverick (@misaothewitch)

which is gayer (@holypowell)

we're fools to make war by whimsicule

all my roads lead back to you by liadan14

m*a*s*h video by @amrv-5 (+ reblog tags)

clegan/buck(y) gifs by @4o4notf0und @rcbertleckie

clegan fanart by @ifapromise <3

clegan memes: 1 (@rcbertleckie) 2 (@season-two) 3 (@ww2yaoi) 4 & 5

bomber's moon by moonrocks

**i tried to tag/link everything, if anything is broken or unsourced please let me know and i will endeavour to fix it! standard disclaimer that a) any discussion about war media based on real life people is based upon the fictional portrayals of those people and not the actual dudes. and b) this powerpoint was made for fun, it is not rigorous academic analysis. all opinions expressed are my own. please do not take it too seriously! that's all <3

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vivid-dreamscapes · 5 months ago

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Dragon King!Bakugou, who spent many night in secret with you before finally proposing, marrying you within the month after.

Dragon King!Bakugou, who is worried you’ll feel pressured to do the after-marriage consummation ritual, so he doesn’t bring it up. But his soreness certainly do—with good intentions, of course.

Dragon King!Bakugou, who makes sure the night is perfect, having spent the day preparing everything, making sure the room was arranged to his liking. The room you two had spent so many nights before had transformed, practically gleaming with the flicker of firelight from candles and scented incense. Soft silk sheets laid over the king's bed, the room filled with the sweet scent of roses. Even a small table filled with fruit and water to replenish energy midway through sits at the beside.

Dragon King!Bakugou, who waited for you in the room patiently and calmly, but internally freaked out. After all, he was nervous about preforming this ritual with you. Not just because not most people lived through having sex with dragon royalty (yes that idea came from the webtoon The Dragon Kings Bride), but because it was you.

Dragon King!Bakugou, whose eyes immediately widened once you entered the room. They drank in the traditional consummation nightgown you had been fitted into, consisting of silky white lace that hugged every contour of your body. The bodice of the dress embroidered with elaborate patterns, the material dipping low on your chest, revealing a tantalizing amount of skin. The back of the gown completely exposed, the delicate lace wrapping around to the front in the form of a tie. Your hair adorned in flowers of his favorite variety.

Dragon King!Bakugou, who has a traditional consummation outfit of his own, a set of clothing that could only be described as borderline ancient. A simple robe of deep red and black silk drapes his shoulders, leaving his toned chest exposed. Loose, dark silk pants of the same material hang low on his hips. His arms completely bare, showcasing the intricate tattoos that wrapped around them in swirling designs. His servants had even taken the time to weave a strand of pearls through his hair. The overall image he portrays can only be described as dangerously attractive.

Dragon King!Bakugou, who informs you without a second thought that you look like a goddess. When your reply is ‘don’t insult the deities like that’, he smirks and steps closer. “Careful, my lady. Blasphemy is a very serious offense."

Dragon King!Bakugou, who sees your nervousness and guides you to the bed, hand in yours.

Dragon King!Bakugou, who lays you down on the scarlet silk sheets with a surprising gentleness for being the King of dragons.

Dragon King!Bakugou, who smiles upon hearing your a virgin, his response mumbled it or he skin of your neck as his calloused fingers brush over you collarbone, taking down the nightgown. "So, you're a virgin, my lady. The gods have clearly favored me tonight."

Dragon King!Bakugou, who starts off slow with kissing and touching, only to find out your maids had done him the favor of recommending you don’t wear underwear in the first place

Dragon King!Bakugou, who fucks you so hard your left gasping and begging, even as he tries to do it slowly so he won’t kill you.

Dragon King!Bakugou, who in the morning is left with a very alive you, curled up naked in his arms.

Dragon King!Bakugou, who opens the door with a surprisingly happy look on his face, only to find the entire castle staff waiting to hear if you’re alive or not, raising an eyebrow lazily. “Calm down. They aren’t dead. They’re…they’re fine. A little sore, but otherwise fine.”

Dragon King!Bakugou, who falls in love on sight with the little baby prince that exists nine months later as proof of the ritual having worked.

#mha #my hero academia #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x you #bakugou mha #dragon king bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou x you #bnha fanfiction

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fraugwinska · 6 months ago

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Minors DNI - 18+ - Explicit Sexual Content - 4,6k words Attention: Mentions of fictional Witchcraft and Voodoo (I know this is a very sensitive topic, which is why I threaded very vaguely and lightly. I mean absolutely NO disrespect to either of those spiritualities)

Master of Puppets

You paced nervously through your room. The clock ticked the safe seconds away, the seconds Alastor where wasn't here. The seconds where Alastor didn't know.

He liked you, of course. At least enough to experiment with you, that much you could say with confidence. He had shown interest in the little witch inventor that joined the hotel, sharing the same proficiency in magic as himself. Although, unlike him, you had been an eclectic witch in your lifetime, and used more traditional western magic, whereas Alastor wasn't familiar with that, relying fully on voodoo practices he learned from the women of his family. So, you taught him and he taught you, and over the shared hours of lessons, discussions and practices, things got more and more... handsy. Until one day even the last gap between you was closed, and before both of you knew it you were sharing a bed more often than a book on sigils or rituals.

It was a mutual thing. You were insanely attracted to him, and he liked you well enough to indulge in activities he'd normally frown upon. Which made you feel special - It didn't soothe the nerves though, as you fumbled around with the little objects in the black carved box, making sure everything was perfect, before hastily slamming it shut when you heard knocks on the door.

"Yes?" you said, as if you hadn't been expecting him, as if your heart wasn't trying to leap out of your chest.

"Darling, it's me! May I come in?" you heard him say, and the door opening before you could answer. "I hope I'm not too early."

You turned around, giving him a shy smile after glancing at the clock on the wall. "You're right on time, as always."

"Punctuality is one of the only virtues I try uphold." He took a few steps towards you. "Is everything alright? You look nervous."

"Do I? It's... Nothing. I just have... I'm excited for something to show to you."

"Really?" He was intrigued, leaning in a little. "Well, now I'm curious. Is it the skinning spell you've been working on? I might have some test subjects in mind, if you are already finished."

You cleared your throat, feeling your heart beating painfully in your chest. "Not quite. I made something new, though."

"Oh?" he said, tilting his head to the side. "What is it?"

You fidgeted, not knowing how to start, how to ease him into it. He was a man that didn't appreciate if one beat around the bush, so better to rip the band-aid off in one violent, leap-of-faith-kind of way. You went to the black box, fingers trembling as you lifted the golden hatch, and before you could change your mind and call the whole thing off you scooped the small voodoo dolls out and held them out to him.

"I made these. For you... Us."

He was taken aback for a moment, not saying anything as he stared at the two little cloth figures, then down at you. They were intricately made replicas of you both, you had spent hours and hours sewing them, even going so far as to design and make identical outfits for them. He took both of them out of your hands, turning them slowly in his own, examining them with a frighteningly unreadable look.

"So you solely tried your hands on my profession I see. Why?" his eyes were boring into you, the smile on his face tight and tense, and you had to fight yourself not to stutter.

"I-I figured..." You swallowed hard. "I thought it could help us to... to be closer. More connected, in a way. And I thought you would like to... try this."

He blinked slowly, and the grin he wore stretched a bit further, the static getting louder in your ears. You were starting to think he didn't like it. You were starting to regret this.

"It is an unusual gift." His voice was calm, laced with a hint of curiosity, but you still couldn't relax. "Quite a surprise, too."

"Is that good or bad?" you asked, and he chuckled softly.

"I don't know, darling. That depends on how it will be used." He holds up your miniature, his brows raised expectantly. "Tell me how it works."

"Uh... Well, it's more of a mix between your and my magic. T-they have some of my spells sewn into them, and then I enchanted them on your altar. All that's left to do is to tie a hair around the neck of it and offer a drop of blood, and... we will be able to feel anything that's done to the doll."

"Feel?" He cocked his head to the side, eyes gleaming with dark excitement.

"Anything." Your throat was dry, the words almost catching there.

"That sounds positively delightful."

Your heart did a flip in your chest as his voice lowered into a purr, his eyes fixed on the tiny you, the static rising around him. He was captivated, but also suspicious, and that didn't make your anxiety lessen one bit. More so as he found the red stain on your dolls chest and the shimmer of a hair around its neck. Your version of a peace offering.

"It seems this little thing is already prepared and ready to use, isn't it, dearest?" he hummed, looking at you, the smile stretching wide and showing his sharp teeth.

"Yes... if you wanted to... see how it worked first. To decide whether you want to give it a try."

He laughed, and the sound made you shiver. There was no humor in it, but sheer anticipation. Hunger. "Well then. Better not waste such a generous opportunity."

He sat his own replica down on the nightstand next to your bed, and settled down on the mattress, patting the spot next to him for you to join. You did, sitting as stiff as a board, your eyes trained on him as he looked down at your little doll. He seemed to contemplate for a moment, before running his fingers across the doll's body, and you gasped.

All your hard work evidently payed off - The touch felt eerily real. Warm, like the heat of his hands was spreading all over you, a soft caress up the middle of your stomach, a tickle around your waist. His fingertips traveled upward, pressing softly against your chest, and your breath stocked in your lungs.

"You've really outdone yourself with this one darling. So receptive..." Alastor's smile widened into a full grin, and the fact that he didn't need to touch your skin to see the blush creeping across your cheeks was one detail he seemed to particularly enjoy. The rough feeling of his claws grating against you was replaced with the hot touch of phantom lips, pressing gently against your neck as he pulled the small shirt collar aside, his tongue licking across the doll's shoulder.

The sensation almost felt out of place in comparison, making you fall onto your back with a gasp, into the soft covers of your bed, unable to maintain any sort of composure. Instead of feather light touches, his mouth felt way heavier on your skin than it should. Warm, wet... As he scraped his teeth along the little doll's neck, a low moan slipped between your lips.

"And what attention to details. It's almost a shame to ruin your hard work, but oh well."

His eyes stayed on you as he hooked a fingertip under the dolls garments, cutting it clean off of it, and even though yours stayed fully intact - what you were feeling was a whole different story. Your eyes betrayed you: Even fully clothed you felt the cool air of your room on your skin, you felt exposed, bare and utterly vulnerable. It made your skin break out in goosebumps and your lips part in an unstifled sound of arousal.

"Gorgeous, darling... Absolutely wonderful. A truly masterful piece of magic." The tone of his voice was tingling all over you, a mixture of warm affection and dark cravings. You had never been one to enjoy being praised by a man, but it made you close your eyes and squirm with absolute and desperate need when it came from Alastor. Mouth already open to say something, the words died in your throat, replaced by a high whine when you felt a wet sensation traveling over your stomach down to the inside of your thighs. Your eyes snapped open, finding Alastor's again, his irises practically glowing and locked on you as he ran his tongue all the way across the small body. Teasing. Playing. He narrowed his eyes and traced every curve with the same meticulous patience you knew him for, the sensation sending shocks of excitement and adrenaline through you as it circled the dolls skin, drawing closer and closer to the most intimate parts, until there was nowhere else to trail, nowhere else for it to run to. He stopped, leaving you flushed and panting and shattered next to him on the bed.

"My, my, sweetheart..." he cooed, poking the little doll in his hands into it's side with the softest touch, making you jerk into his side. "At this rate, this seems more like a gift for you than for me."

The blush on your face deepened and you averted your eyes. "...You're probably not wrong."

"No, I'd say I am absolutely right," he chuckled, shifting closer and tracing a hand up your body and to your throat in a smooth motion, and your body arched into the touch with the ease of a moth to flame. For a moment, he didn't move, resting his claws wrapped around your neck, his fingertips heavy on your skin. He seemed to weight his options, deciding on how to proceed. Finally, he leaned into you, bringing his lips closer to yours and when he spoke it was barely a whisper.

"I'll trust you to rectify this circumstance then."

Your eyes widened when he stood up, gently placing your doll down and switching its place with his own. You sat up, watching how he carefully plucked a hair from his head, wrapping it tightly around the neck of his miniature alter ego. It looked almost sinfully elegant and downright seductive, how his long fingers tied it tightly, before he turned back to you, his grin splitting his face in half. There was something in his expression you haven't seen before - hesitancy. It was only a second, but you still held your breath as it passed, and he chuckled as he bit his lip, dark, almost black blood dripping onto the chest of the doll in his hands.

"A rare occasion for me to spill blood. I hope you'll make it worth it."

You swallowed heavily and he grinned, reaching for your hand and gently putting the doll on your palm, giving you a stern, commanding look. "My turn."

You nodded as he settled himself on your bed, now stretching himself fully on the mattress. Lifting your other hand you carefully laid one finger on top of his dolls' throat, before drawing your fingers across and down, over its chest and its sides, making his form shiver and his ears twitch. As you undid the small coat and shirt, dragging your nail gently over the dolls abdomen, Alastor gave a resounding, pleased sigh. You stared at him in wonder of your own work, silently asking yourself if your touches on the fabric in your hands felt as intensified as his did on yours before.

With a spark of nervous excitement you followed a whim of insanity, a quick glance confirming Alastor had his eyes closed. He had never before allowed you to touch his ears - now, their artificial counterparts were at your fingertips, and with a racing heart, you drew a stroke from the base of his ear right across its entire length, all the way until the fine point. A loud, drawn-out groan filled the room and your cheeks burnt crimson when his back arched and his hands twitched towards you, the knuckles white as he clenched them into fists, a tremor going through his shoulders. The groan ended in a long whine, the eyes snapping open and locking right into yours, and your breath hitched as you saw the smoldering embers. His grin grew tighter, strained, and he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and the intensity of his gaze made your stomach drop, your whole body feeling exposed and naked despite still being fully dressed.

"Testy little thing. Always going for most dangerous experiments..." He shook his head as he exhaled slowly, his breath ragged and labored and in the soft illumination of your bedside lamp his neck was dusted a light pink. You marveled for a second, mesmerized. That was, until his tone dropped an octave, making your body snap back to attention, your nipples hardening painfully beneath your clothes. "How about another then, darling. You do that again..." His shadow tendrils shot out from nowhere, wrapping around your waist and thighs and lifting you over his face as you yelped and almost let the doll slip from your hands, the hem of your skirt pushed aside and heated core right above his watering mouth. "...while I do this."

With no time left for a reply, you felt your flimsy panties flicked aside and your body lowered onto his waiting tongue, all thought replaced by a sudden wave of blinding ecstasy. There was something truly addicting about the heat and hunger of his lips, the way they locked around your clit and sucked you down in the best form of torturous pain like life depended on it, his nails digging into your hips with force, while your brain was practically erasing every input but the burning sensation below. The doll in your hands, pressed to your heaving chest, was long forgotten as your head fell back and each swipe of his cursed appendix sent a shockwave through your spine. You groaned, you whimpered, and Alastor could taste the waves of delicious agony on his tongue. When he withdrew, the loss of his wet heat and the chill of the cool air against your slick folds made you almost break out in tears.

"Focus, dearest, on the task I gave you. Or do I have to repeat myself?"

The growl in his voice snapped you out of it and made you take a shaky breath before you finally composed yourself. Your fingers trembled as they grazed the tips of the dolls ears again, your movements almost trance like as your whole body yearned for it to return onto his lips. Alastor's brows furrowed, lips pursed for a second as you drew a slow, sensual line up the miniatures length, stopping and softly kneading at the pointed tip.

"Good girl." he murmured, voice breathy, and for a second you could have sworn you saw his eye twitch, though his grin stayed firmly plastered onto his face. His words sent an instantaneous warmth pooling in your lower stomach, and your chest fluttered as you tried to swallow down the intense elation that shot through your veins at those words - the same words Alastor used when you mastered one of his magical exercises, and although the praise was always flattering, in this context it felt downright lewd and utterly divine to be called that. When your hand lowered a bit, massaging the base of the dolls ears, Alastor's noises became low growls and deep purrs around the wet skin his lips devoured. The black vines on your waist and legs tightened their grip as well, pushing you deeper down onto his mouth.

You hadn't even registered what happened, but with a snap your top was ripped in the front, the clasp of your bra followed, and the familiar humming sound of his static made you squeal in surprise when his voice was suddenly much louder, his tongue shoved into you as far as he could go and his shadows ripping your clothes off at lightning speed. With both hands stroking, massaging and pulling the dolls ears now, the pure pleasure hitting you was almost too much, but as much as your hands ached for the real thing, to run your nails over the red fluff and trace the soft curves and edges of the dark antlers growing on the sides of his head, all you could do was imagine, with all your fingers on the dolls soft material instead and moving furiously up and down its head, to do exactly the same thing.

Alastor growled underneath you, the sound deep and rumbling, sending vibrations through your trembling thighs and against your sensitive skin, and it sounded so much more desperate and disoriented than you had ever heard from him before. Had you been looking down, had you been able to see anything beyond the mind-shattering pleasure, the wide blown pupils and the unfocused gaze in the glowing red irises, you might have wondered why that was - Alastor's control was slipping, and his smile finally was showing that.

In an instant your body was turned and placed on your back, your limbs shaking in the grip of his shadows and body utterly at the mercy of the tall red man leaning over you and undoing his bow tie with the rapidity and precision of a professional magician. His hair had gotten a little ruffled in the process, and his red shirt hung open and wrinkled against his skin.

"A compelling exercise indeed, my dear." he spoke, the rasp in his tone and the ragged breath accentuating his words. With a swift movement his jacket joined the shirt and harness that already had been thrown onto the floor somewhere, and then the shadows were back and prodding against the soaked cloth, the only thing left around your hips. They snuck into every slit they could find, exposing more and more of you, while their owner's gaze hungrily devoured every bit of exposed skin. The stretchable fabric made for easy work, but you had the distinct feeling they wouldn't have needed it at all as the shadows literally dissolved every thread they encountered. Alastor reached for your replica again, seemingly collecting himself and catching his breath.

"You are quite talented, and it'll be a joy to discover what other marvels your mind can come up with." His claw dragged down over the dolls' hips, one set of real, the other set of simulated hands following it a millisecond after, right along your bare and barer sides, sending waves of anticipation down the inside of your thighs. In an instant, two very corporeal, long fingers were back between your folds, knuckle deep into your seeping core, and Alastor chuckled lowly at your surprised whine, the smug and devious purr rumbling in his chest as he took note of every twitch your body made to the tune of his strokes. "But I think it's about time to return the favor though, don't you agree?"

Still stroking that sweet spot inside of you with his fingers, the hand that held your puppet glowed in bright green, and in between your moans and pants your wide eyes can't tear themselves from the strange symbols that appear around it, swirling and sparkling. You've seen Alastor perform magic countless of times, have watched and marveled at every spell he cast and his flair for the dramatic was only matched by the elegance of his every motion. But this? This was something else. The nonchalance with which his fingers pumped in and out of you, working meticulously, tactically, teasing you and working you into a mess with such a proficiency while he traced symbols with his free hand and the script, the raw power of it, the surge you could feel radiating from him, all that and his unflinching composure drove you mad with both desire and fascination.

The light and the symbols faded, and in his hands - the puppet, similar yet not quite. It felt off, almost lifelike, the fabric more skin-like, and with a gasp, you saw..

"Let me now see, if my own little contribution can be counted as an improvement, my little witch."

If someone asked you later on what had actually happened, you couldn't have said a single word - it was too salacious, too outrageous, too much outside of what you had ever expected from Alastor. How could you ever recount the way he pulled his throbbing cock out with his free hand - thick, dripping with precum and inhumanly beautiful. How his fingers were guiding your tiny copy to align with its tip, while he never left your eyes, smile almost manic.

He made holes. And seconds later, when he slowly pushed the doll onto his length, with his fingers still buried deep inside you, you knew that they worked. Oh, and how they worked.

"Oh m-my... god..."

It was heaven and hell. Bliss and torture, the feeling abhorrently delicious. The magical connection allowed every ridge, vein and vibration of his cock to transfer perfectly through the dolls body to you, making you shudder and keen at the intensity, the sheer tightness, and simultaneously Alastor groaned - a broken, rugged sound, loud enough to make you glance up with misty eyes from your debauched position. Your insides clenched hard around his fingers and the ghost of his cock, your toes curling as you whimpered, a picture perfect representation of how utterly sinful he looked with his dark lashes resting on his red cheeks, eyes shut and the mouth agape as his chest was rising and falling, breaths coming hard and labored.

He noticed your raptured gaze, looking down at you through hooded eyes, his smile positively obscene.

"Mh, I like the way you pray on me instead of one of your silly deities, darling. But you can call me Alastor."

And oh, how it felt, when his hand closed tightly around the little voodoo doll that was stuffed so full of him. You arched your back and writhed against the firm hold the tentacles had on you, pressing your knees against the pillows as he pulled his drenched fingers out of you, bringing them up to his face to lick them clean. He groaned at the taste, closing his eyes and making an effort to concentrate, his control crumbling in tiny pebbles around you, and his hips started to snap, sheathing the miniature you further on his cock, thrusting in increasingly fast paced movements. A string of whimpers escaped you, his name spilling throughout them like a mantra, as you were unable to do much more but twitch, shake and tremble as his ministrations came faster, harder, and Alastor let his head fall back, baring his neck and swallowing.

"You're so-" He groaned, squeezing your dolls body, forcing it closer against him and sliding it off and back on at an excruciatingly slow pace, your moans climbing and escalating with every inch that moved through the magic veil and in and around your sopping center. "-goddamn perfect, perfectly made for me." Your body didn't know how to react anymore, you stuttered incoherently, everything full with his praise, with this cock that wasn't there but was, the heat that shouldn't have been possible to fill you but did. You felt every bit of skin and fur and sweat and the realization only dawned on you when it was already too late: That you were about to come harder than you ever did, and that Alastor was losing his mind just from watching your reactions to his assault on your doll.

"S-So tight and needy. What a perfect... little... toy you are." If they were meant for you below him or the doll in his hands - you didn't know. But the panted words and almost dirty, explicit praise spilled from his lips in a flurry, every syllable seemed strangely calculated, aimed like a dart straight into you and tearing down all defenses as your pussy twitched helplessly around the sensation of being stretched and fucked open on the image of his cock. When he chuckled and sank your doll to the base, grinding your little figure against him so the head of his cock poked and prodded you where it had never reached before, you all but screamed his name as you came, and your pathetic cries pulled a harsh string of groans and grunts out of the demon towering over you, his breathless cursing and rambled obscenities underlined by the vicious snaps of his hips as he used your simulacrum like a glorified sex toy. His nails pierced the outer layer of the doll as your walls constricted and contracted around the thick nothing as he finished you and himself off into the realm of oblivion.

Everything went white for a moment and when your senses returned, Alastor was carefully cradling you into his arms, the little replica sitting next to his own on your bedside table, their heads almost tenderly leaning on each other. He was gently raking his claws through your damp, disheveled hair, placing little kisses down the back of your neck and on the thin skin behind your ears as he mumbled silent praises against your skin. He kissed along your jaw, gentle as anything, a soft thumb grazing along your lips, cheeks and your temple as he traced the lines of your features until he found the pulse on your neck. The cold touch of his lips was a nice contrast to the hot breath, and you moaned softly at his affectionate gesture.

"It's never a disappointment with you, love, quite the contrary." He hummed, scraping his sharp teeth almost teasingly along the crook of your neck before kissing it, covering your skin with static electricity. "What a marvelous surprise you prepared for me, my dear, truly magical." His lips pressed into yours in a rare kiss, and you leaned back into his naked embrace and smiled, the giddy feeling of accomplishment spreading in your belly and mixing in beautifully with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"I'm glad... you liked it."

"Oh, that is hardly the phrase I would use," Alastor chuckled as he pulled back, making you blush as his red iris glowed dangerously. "But you, my dear, will have a little work to do, seeing as I'm positively spoiled after this gift. You have no idea of the things I'm thinking about, all the possibilities of what we can accomplish if we put both our minds – and magic - to it."

Alastor pulled you into a tight embrace, rubbing his chin and cheeks across your scalp and shoulders, coating you with a generous amount of his scent as if to mark you before pulling the blankets up and covering the two of you as his arms locked around you possessively, letting you settle against his chest as he hummed a melody you didn't know. But you knew him well enough to know that it was a clear sign of him being absolutely pleased and content.

You smiled, his good mood infectious, and as you glanced to the two dolls that sat together like a matching pair, stripped of their clothes and as close together as you and the real demon were now under the sheets, it made you feel like the cat that ate the canary. The cat had been fed by Alastor, sure. But he had also had his fill and then some, and really... that was all that mattered to you.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #quickfic #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #magical fucking

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herlondonboy · 10 months ago

Text

pretty when you cry, clarisse la rue

summary: based on this post by @kitten-reader

warnings: aphrodite’s kids are pricks lol, erm it’s really bad…

wc: 2.8k

your hair was something that you prided yourself on.

it was no doubt that you were beautiful beyond comparison to your fellow demigods, what with being the daughter of aphrodite. people couldn’t even compare you to your godly siblings.

you believed that your hair was the reason that your beauty was so great, so you natural worked hard on it.

in the world of olympians, you found solace and pride in the strands of hair that cascaded down your shoulders like a cascade of silk. your hair, a manifestation of your divine heritage, was more than just a physical attribute— it was a symbol of your identity and a testament to the grace and allure that came with being the offspring of the goddess of love.

from the moment you discovered your parentage, you embraced the inherent charm that ran through your veins, and it manifested prominently in your hair. unlike the messy, unpredictable tresses of some demigods, yours seemed to have a life of its own, obeying your whims and desires with a luxurious sheen that captivated those around you.

the secret, as you often shared with your fellow campers at camp half-blood, lay in the meticulous care you bestowed upon your locks. your morning routine became a sacred ritual— a blend of enchanted hair care products and divine techniques passed down through generations of aphrodite's children. a symphony of sweet-scented potions and ethereal brushes transformed the routine into a dance of beauty, each stroke accentuating the natural glamour that radiated from your hair.

you revelled in the attention your hair garnered, the way it shimmered under the sunlight as if kissed by the gods themselves. it became a beacon of confidence, a tangible manifestation of your divine heritage that set you apart from the sea of demigods at the camp. the other campers often marvelled at your ability to maintain such perfection, unaware of the divine secrets woven into every strand.

however, your relationship with your hair wasn't purely superficial. it served as a connection to your mother, a link to the goddess whose legacy you carried. the act of caring for it became a ritual that grounded you, a reminder of the divine blood that coursed through your veins and the responsibilities that came with it.

not unbeknownst to you, the envy and resentment simmered beneath the surface of the camp. the adoration and attention that accompanied your divine beauty fuelled the flames of jealousy among your fellow aphrodite siblings. little did you realise, being the favourite child of the goddess of love came at a cost, and that cost was the disdain of your own kin.

as you moved through the camp with the grace of a deity, your radiant hair attracting attention like a beacon, you, though aware of the hostile whispers that followed in your wake, chose to ignore. the other children of aphrodite, who were accustomed to being the centre of attention, couldn't fathom the idea of sharing the spotlight with someone they perceived as the golden child.

the jealousy manifested in subtle acts of exclusion and passive-aggressive remarks. your attempts to connect with your half-siblings often met with cold shoulders and thinly veiled animosity. the communal vanity table, where aphrodite's children traditionally gathered, became a battlefield of unspoken rivalry as they vied for the elusive title of the most captivating demigod.

yet, you, in your innocence, continued to extend kindness and friendship to those around you, oblivious to the resentment building in the hearts of your fellow campers. the intricate braids and enchanting hairstyles you generously offered to create for others only fuelled their frustration, as they struggled to reconcile the warmth of your gestures with the envy burning within them.

within the intricate dynamics of camp half-blood, one particular relationship defied expectations and unfolded with a complexity that left others bewildered. clarisse la rue, known for her brusque demeanour and a reputation that preceded her, stood as an unexpected confidante in your life. despite her gruff exterior and the scathing remarks she directed towards most campers, clarisse treated you with an unusual gentleness, and a unique bond formed between you two.

it all began during a chance encounter near the armoury, where clarisse, with her characteristic scowl, found herself inexplicably drawn to you. to the surprise of everyone witnessing the scene, her rough hands delicately traced the contours of your locks, as if handling a precious artefact. the camp's collective gasp echoed through the air, and it was then that an unspoken connection began to weave itself between you and the formidable daughter of ares.

clarisse, who seldom allowed others into her personal space, not only tolerated but seemed to relish the moments spent running her fingers through your hair. your shared interactions defied the logic of the camp's social hierarchy, leaving fellow demigods perplexed and intrigued by the peculiar alliance that had blossomed between you two.

as your friendship with clarisse deepened, it became apparent that her seemingly abrasive exterior masked a vulnerability that few had the privilege to witness. she confided in you about the weight of expectations placed upon her shoulders as the daughter of ares, the god of war. your hair, with its calming allure, became an unexpected refuge for her, a sanctuary where she could momentarily escape the demands of her tumultuous life.

in the quiet moments shared between you and clarisse, amidst the backdrop of a camp constantly on guard against mythical threats, an unexpected emotion began to stir— love. the kind of love that transcended the lines drawn by parentage and reputations. it was a love born out of understanding, acceptance, and the shared vulnerability that only the tumultuous world of demigods could evoke.

the camp, initially taken aback by the unlikely friendship, eventually came to accept the profound connection that had blossomed between you and clarisse. the daughter of ares, who once stood as an enigma wrapped in hostility, softened in the presence of your divine beauty and the solace found within the cascade of your hair.

as your feelings for each other deepened, the two of you navigated the complexities of love in a world fraught with danger. clarisse's protective instincts, honed on the battlefield, as well as in camp. together, you became an unlikely force, a symbol of love's ability to bridge even the most unexpected divides.

there was a time when a group of your own siblings, fuelled by jealousy and resentment, conspired to disrupt the tranquil rhythm of your bonds with your mother and girlfriend. one day, your prized possession, a hairbrush gifted by your mother, disappeared from its usual place. panic set in as you scoured the cabin, realising that this wasn't just a casual prank— someone had deliberately taken something sacred to you.

as whispers of the stolen hairbrush circulated through the cabin, the undercurrents of jealousy among your siblings bubbled to the surface. the mischievous culprits revelled in their act of sabotage, convinced that stripping you of this cherished item would somehow diminish the radiance that surrounded you.

it didn't take long for clarisse to sense your distress. the unspoken bond between you two had woven itself into a tapestry of mutual understanding, and she recognised the significance of the pilfered hairbrush. determined to right the wrong, clarisse took it upon herself to investigate the matter.

she confronted your siblings with an intensity that left them quaking in their sandals. her stern gaze bore into their guilt-ridden souls, extracting the truth like a seasoned interrogator. clarisse's usually thunderous voice carried a solemn edge as she demanded the return of the stolen hairbrush and an apology befitting the gravity of their actions.

unbeknownst to the misguided thieves, clarisse's reputation for ferocity on the battlefield extended to her protective instincts off it. the very fear she instilled in her enemies on the front lines was now directed at those who dared to threaten the tranquility of your connection.

under the weight of clarisse's unwavering determination, the guilty siblings caved. they returned the stolen hairbrush with bowed heads, offering apologies that bordered on genuine remorse. clarisse, satisfied with the swift resolution, ensured that justice prevailed, safeguarding the sanctity of the connection between you and the divine gift bestowed upon you by aphrodite.

as the stolen hairbrush was returned to its rightful place, the bond between you and clarisse strengthened. the trials you faced together only deepened the roots of your connection, intertwining your destinies in a tale of love, loyalty, and the unyielding power of shared vulnerability. in the heart of camp half-blood, where demigods navigated the tumultuous waters of existence, your story became a testament to the resilience of love against the currents of jealousy and deceit.

the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a fiery glow over camp half-blood, as clarisse la rue realised she hadn't seen you all day. a sense of unease settled in her chest, an unfamiliar concern that compelled her to seek you out. with each passing moment, her worry deepened, driven by a gut feeling that something was amiss.

clarisse traversed the familiar paths of the camp, her eyes scanning the bustling activity for a glimpse of your familiar figure. the ares cabin loomed in the distance, and a knot tightened in her stomach as she approached, not spotting you among the demigods sparring and training.

finally reaching the ares cabin, clarisse's unease morphed into genuine concern. where were you? why hadn't she seen you all day? the questions echoed in her mind, and she briskly entered the cabin, determined to uncover the mystery behind your absence.

there, in the dimly lit interior, she found you sitting on the edge of her bunk, your figure shrouded by a hood and a hat pulled low over your tearful eyes. the sight sent a ripple of worry through clarisse, and she rushed to your side, her gruff demeanour momentarily replaced by a genuine sense of care.

"hey, what happened?" clarisse asked, her voice softer than usual as she placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. your tear-streaked face turned towards her, and the anguish in your eyes tugged at her heart.

"they took it away," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. you repeated the words, a mantra of despair, and clarisse struggled to comprehend the source of your pain. "they took it away."

clarisse's brow furrowed, her eyes searching yours for an explanation. "took what away? what happened?"

with trembling hands, you reached up and pulled off the hood, revealing a mess of uneven strands that once cascaded in silky splendour. clarisse's eyes widened in realisation, her hand instinctively reaching to touch the shortened locks. the betrayal etched on your face told the story before you uttered a single word.

"they cut it," you sobbed, burying your face in clarisse's shoulder. "they cut it, clarisse. look at it, it's gone. all gone."

comprehension dawned on clarisse as she gently ran her fingers through the uneven strands. anger surged within her, a protective instinct for the one she cared about more than she ever thought possible. "who did this?" she growled, her gaze ablaze with fury.

you shook your head, unable to articulate the betrayal and cruelty that led to this moment. clarisse, however, needed no words. she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace as she vowed to make those responsible pay for the pain they inflicted.

in the sanctuary of the ares cabin, amid the echoes of your tearful revelation, clarisse became a pillar of strength, ready to stand by your side and face whatever challenges lay ahead. love, in its purest and most protective form, ignited within her, as the daughter of ares transformed into a fierce guardian of the broken and betrayed.

the night hung heavy with an air of tension as you cried yourself to sleep in clarisse's bed, the echoes of betrayal haunting your dreams. clarisse, ever the guardian, sat silently beside you, watching over your restless slumber. the flickering candlelight cast shadows on the determination etched into her face, fuelled by a fierce protectiveness that refused to be extinguished.

as your sobs eventually subsided into the quiet rhythm of sleep, clarisse rose from the bedside with a silent determination. in the dim light of the cabin, she retrieved her spear, its blade glinting with a subtle menace. the daughter of ares, had one mission— avenge you.

the night enveloped camp half-blood in a cloak of darkness as clarisse stealthily made her way towards the aphrodite cabin. the aura of the daughter of ares carried an intensity that reverberated through the quiet paths, heralding a confrontation fuelled by the depth of her feelings for you.

standing outside the cabin, clarisse's eyes narrowed with determination as she observed the shadows within. the miscreants who had dared to harm you needed to be taught a lesson—one they would not soon forget. gripping her spear tightly, clarisse pushed open the door, her gaze unwavering as she confronted your godly siblings.

the scene within was one of startled surprise as clarisse stormed into the cabin. her voice, usually thunderous on the battlefield, now carried a chilling calmness. "you touch her again, and i promise you, the consequences will be far worse than you can imagine."

the air in the cabin grew heavy with tension as the children of aphrodite, once filled with false bravado, now faced the unyielding force of clarisse's wrath. she recounted the pain you had endured, the tears that stained your face, and the betrayal that cut deeper than any blade.

in her hand, the spear gleamed ominously, a silent warning that spoke volumes. the children of aphrodite, their faces pale with fear, found themselves cornered by the very embodiment of wrath standing before them. clarisse's words echoed in the cavernous space, leaving an indelible mark on their consciousness.

with a final warning that carried the weight of a promise, clarisse turned on her heel, leaving the aphrodite cabin in her wake. the night embraced her as she returned to the ares cabin, a sense of satisfaction lingering in the air. the protective fire that burned within her had been unleashed, a fierce determination to shield you from further harm.

the following day, the morning light filtered through the windows of the ares cabin, casting a gentle glow over the space. you awoke with a heaviness in your heart, the memory of the previous day's betrayal lingering like a shadow. as you sat up in bed, clarisse entered the cabin, her eyes immediately locking onto yours. the weight of the night's events still etched on her features, but a newfound determination shone in her gaze.

"hey," clarisse greeted you, her voice softer than usual. she took a seat beside you, her hand gently resting on your shoulder. "we need to talk."

the air felt charged with a mix of vulnerability and strength as clarisse began to speak. "i know yesterday was rough, and i can't change what happened, but i need you to understand something." she took a deep breath, her eyes searching yours. "your beauty isn't defined by your hair. it's not just one thing that makes you pretty. it's everything."

clarisse began listing every part of you, her voice deliberate and unwavering. "your eyes– they hold a strength and depth that's beyond compare. your lips– they carry a warmth that can brighten the darkest days. your ears– they've heard laughter, pain, and everything in between. every part of you contributes to the unique beauty that is you."

you listened, the weight of her words sinking in, but doubt still lingered in your eyes. clarisse, undeterred, continued, "and, above all, it's your personality. your kindness, your strength, your resilience – that's what makes you truly beautiful."

a flicker of disbelief danced across your face, and clarisse recognised the challenge ahead. she persisted, her gaze unwavering. "say it. say you're beautiful because of your eyes, lips, ears, and every part of you."

you hesitated, the echoes of the previous day's betrayal still reverberating in your mind. "i can't- i can’t say that. not after what they did to me."

clarisse tightened her grip on your shoulder, her voice taking on a gentle insistence. "you need to believe it. it's not about them; it's about you. say it with me. you're beautiful because of your eyes, lips, ears, and every part of you."

it felt like a mantra, a repetition that tested the resilience of self-perception. clarisse didn't back down, patiently guiding you through each affirmation until the words became a declaration echoing within the walls of the ares cabin. "i'm beautiful because of my eyes, lips, ears, and every part of me."

as you repeated the words, something shifted within you. the doubt began to yield to the truth that clarisse so fervently believed. her unwavering support became a lifeline, anchoring you to a newfound understanding of your own beauty.

in that shared moment, surrounded by the strength of ares' cabin, you started to embrace the truth that beauty wasn't confined to a single aspect. it was a mosaic, a tapestry woven from the threads of every part that made you uniquely, undeniably yourself. clarisse, with her fierce love and unyielding determination, had become the mirror reflecting the truth you needed to see.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse x y/n #daughter of aphrodite #gn reader #gn!reader #gn #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo x reader #pjo x you #elijah writes #dior goodjohn #dior good john x reader

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wafflesex · 1 year ago

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Because I'm a massive nerd: have some character analysis involving gem language and the gems the Leech twins are named after.

Fluorite is a precious stone named after the Latin word “flux” which means “continuous change.” It is associated with growth: removing negative energy, promoting positivity, and increasing self-confidence.

When cleansing the body from stress, fluorite primarily protects the intellect. It promotes concentration, memory retention, and can be used as a learning aid or for making big decisions. Green fluorite is especially good for this.

While fluorite’s namesake refers to spontaneity, geologists consider it a stable, predictable gem used to measure the hardness of other gems and minerals on the Mohs scale. Its strength is a reliable factor in determining how resistant other minerals are. In other words: fluorite helps you discover your true limits and potentials.

Besides aiding the mind, fluorite energizes as well as grounds the heart in "the now," especially during moments of high anxiety. Not to say it disregards the past and the future; it just prefers to work on who you are at present, recognizing you as an ever-changing, inevitable, unstoppable force in the universe. It promotes compassion towards oneself and encourages one to be the best they can be by opening their heart to fun and love instead of embracing past trauma.

In this sense, fluorite is wonderful for conducting work on your inner child, and is especially responsive to younger people (or those young-at-heart).

A softer mineral, true fluorite tends to bear many natural imperfections on its surface. Some may attribute this to recklessness, hyperactivity, or immaturity. But beneath its scuffs and rough edges, fluorite is a colorful, hearty stone overflowing with positivity… that even glows under ultraviolet light! What a funky little guy.

Jadeite is a highly prized gem that promises safety and balance in one’s life. Like fluorite, it is also a cleansing stone which relies on a more mature approach to turning negative energy into self-sufficient thoughts and behaviors. However, though beautiful and reliable, jade is cold-to-the-touch, and when stowed away or left unused, can grow incredibly brittle. Therefore, it insists upon being used frequently, if not all the time.

Many believe jade jewelry should be worn for one's entire lifetime, as removing it may invite eternal bad luck.

Only diamond can be used to carve jadeite, the strongest natural stone in the world. Measuring in at around 7 on the Mohs scale, it doesn’t blemish, bend, or break easily. With such reliable strength, it can be carved and manipulated into intricate shapes without fear of shattering.

As jade naturally resists breakage, it is a protective gem that forms a special bond with its owner and is commonly used as a tool for breaking other gems. On the rare occasion it does break, however, jade produces glass-like, razor-sharp edges.

In other words: once broken, handle with caution.

Still, there is a nurturing facet to jade: it promotes vitality, youthfulness, and longevity in people while also extending that power to the earth itself. It was often used in old Chinese rituals to manifest strong crop growth. Today, having a sculpture of a jade bok choy in one’s home is considered a symbol of long life and good health.

Make no mistake: jade would rather be out and about having fun with you and others. Doing so means it can make the most out of the life you have together. Utilizing its gorgeous exterior, it invites long lasting friendships and even romance to those who wear it. People may naturally trust and be drawn to jade wearers as the gem helps create a charmingly positive and tranquil personality.

If you're included, it feels included in turn.

A Chinese saying states “you can put a price on gold, but jade is priceless.” Tied to handling matters of the heart, it is a highly perceptive gem and an invaluable treasure meant to be cherished. Generous, elegant, and fierce, it will serve you well… but only if you do the same for it.

Ok I'm done thank you for coming to my rock talk

#twisted wonderland #twst #floyd leech #jade leech #tweels #octavinelle #analysis #character analysis #tarot and crystals mean a lot to me can you tell #it's the ADHD

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seongwars · 4 months ago

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taste of heaven | one shot

Pairing: hunter!San x swan maiden!Reader Summary: All you wanted was to swim in the river. A certain hunter has other plans. Word Count: 2.5K Warnings: NSFW, not proofread, poorly written smut, dubcon-ish, female masturbation, voyeurism, cunnilingus, breeding kink

a/n: lmao I'm just gonna leave this here

In a land between misty lakes and heavenly skies, there lived a herd of swan maidens. Each evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, these maidens would shed their swan forms and swim in the river.

As dusk fell, casting a warm, golden hue across the water’s surface, the forest surrounding the river began to darken, its dense canopy of trees merging into shadows. The sky above transformed into a canvas of deepening purples and blues, signaling the approach of night. At this serene hour, you prepared for their nightly ritual, unaware that tonight’s twilight would bring an unexpected turn to your timeless tradition.

You sighed with relief, easing yourself into the cool welcoming waters, your feathered robe slipping from your shoulders and settling gently on a nearby branch. As you dipped your toes into the water, its coolness was a refreshing contrast to the day’s heat, and a sigh of contentment escaped your lips. Leaning back, you let yourself float partially in the water, your hair fanning out like the delicate feathers of your swan form.

But as the last light of day faded, a subtle shift in the atmosphere disrupted your calm. A dark and alluring presence seemed to make itself known, casting a shadow over your moment of tranquility.

"Who's there?" you called out, your voice echoing softly through the trees. Your senses heightened, attuned to every rustle of leaves and every whisper of the wind. The forest seemed to hold its breath, and the weight of unseen eyes pressed upon you.

Trying to shake off the uneasy feeling, you turned your focus back to the river. Unaware of the growing danger, you continued to relax in the calming waters, oblivious to the dark presence inching closer.

The river embraced you with its cool, soothing touch, refreshing and invigorating your skin. The rhythmic lapping of the water created a serene cadence that lulled you into blissful calm. You sighed deeply, letting the tranquility seep into your bones as you traced your fingers along your damp skin.

Your hands, cool against your skin, wandered across your body with each breath you take. One hand traces a path across your breasts, gently teasing your nipples with a light touch, the other hand dips lower, tracing the curve of your hips, the familiar shape feeling both comforting and strangely new.

Your fingers found the sensitive nub between your legs, and the world narrows down to the delicate pressure of your own touch. Moving in slow, deliberate circles, each caress a wave of pleasure that crashes over you, building, intensifying, drawing you closer to the edge as you plunge your delicate fingers in and out of your wet heat.

The air itself seems to vibrate with anticipation, and the heat blooming within you is a stark contrast to the frigid waters. As your climax approaches, your movements become more urgent and desperate, surrendering to the waves of sensation ripping through your body.

Unbeknownst to you, a hunter had been tracking through the forest, his senses keenly attuned to the sounds of the wilderness. Drawn by the subtle shimmer of the fabric, he emerged from the underbrush and caught sight of your robe, partially concealed among the branches at the river’s edge.

San approached cautiously, his curiosity piqued by the strange, ethereal glow emanating from the robe. The delicate fabric seemed to pulse with a life of its own, its subtle glow illuminating the surrounding shadows. As he drew nearer, the intricate craftsmanship of the robe became more apparent: the feathers were exquisitely detailed, each one meticulously arranged to catch and reflect the light.

He reached out, rough fingers brushing against the soft, downy material as he carded the fabric, the weight of its enchantment lingering in his hands. A sudden splash from the river drew his attention, breaking the spell of the fabric. San’s gaze snapped towards the sound, and his eyes widened in awe.

There you were—a swan maiden, a being of myth and legend, floating along the currents, lost in your own personal pleasure. San watched, his breath catching in his throat, as the maiden’s movements grew more deliberate, more urgent. The water around her seemed to ripple with her increasing arousal. He couldn't tear his eyes away, his own body responding to the secret show.

San’s gaze lingered on you as if the robe’s enchantment had awakened a deeper hunger within him. He could see you were no mere creature; you were a part of the very magic he had sought, an embodiment of the allure and mystery he craved.

As you emerged from the river, the cool night air sent a shiver down your spine. You reached for your robe, but your fingers grasped only empty air. Panic surged through you as you looked around, desperately trying to locate the celestial garment.

Your heart raced as you scanned the riverbank, but the robe was nowhere in sight. It should have been draped over the branches where you had carefully left it.

“Where is it?” you whispered, a note of panic creeping into your voice.

You were acutely aware of the chill that clung to your damp skin and the eerie quiet of the forest around you. Your breath came in shallow gasps as you turned in circles, the rustling of leaves and distant calls of nocturnal creatures only heightening your sense of isolation. The reality of being without your robe struck you with a cold clarity: without it, you were vulnerable, cut off from the magical realm that allowed you to return to your swan form.

A soft rustling sound caught your attention.

A hunter.

He stood with a deliberate, almost casual stance, holding something in his hands—a piece of fabric fluttering gently in the night breeze.

“My robe!” you exclaimed, your voice quivered with urgency. You rushed towards him, the cool night air clinging to your damp skin as you stretched out your hands. “Please, my robe, I need it back!”

San’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something darker. He stepped back, holding the robe just out of your reach. “Perhaps I will,” he said, his voice smooth and taunting, “but not without a trade.”

Panic surged through you, and you tried to close the distance between you. “What do you want?” you asked, desperation evident in every word.

"You," he said, holding it up, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he took in your naked form. "Let me have a taste of you."

"W-What?" you stammered, trying to cover yourself with your hands, though the water provided little concealment. San stepped closer, "You were enjoying yourself, weren't you?"

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson as the full realization that you had been caught in the act. You were exposed, vulnerable, and painfully aware of how you must appear in front of this human. You took a shaky breath, trying to collect your thoughts.

“Please,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, laden with resolve. “I need my robe to return home.”

"If you want your robe back, you'll have to give me what I want."

You hesitated, your fists clenched at your side. "And if I refuse?"

San shrugged nonchalantly, though his eyes never left yours. "Then I keep the robe, and you remain trapped here as a human."

Your breathing quickened, the struggle clear on your face. You glanced around, as if seeking an escape, but there was none. The forest encircled you, and San stood between you and your freedom.

“You wouldn’t,” you spat, trying to muster every ounce of defiance you had left.

“Try me,” he challenged, his smirk widening into something predatory. The air between you thickened with tension, each heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears as the weight of your decision pressed down on you. Despite the fear tightening in your chest, a spark of defiance flared within you.

You glanced over your shoulder toward the river–the prospect of plunging back in was tantalizing. With a desperate resolve, you took a few tentative steps toward the riverbank, preparing to dive in. But just as you were about to make your move, the hunter’s shadow fell over you, yanking you roughly down onto the riverbank. You landed hard, the rough ground scraping against your back as he caged you underneath him.

“Not so fast,” San growled.

In one fell swoop he captured your lips in a searing kiss. Your eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, you were frozen, unsure of how to react. His hands trailed down your chest, cupping your breasts, and placing your sensitive nipple in his mouth. A moan escaped you, eliciting a dark chuckle, a velvety sound that vibrated through your very core.

“Let me go,” you insisted. While your rationale was gripped by sheer terror at the thought of what was to come, a deeper, more twisted part of you found a perverse thrill in it.

You let out a shaky breath, as his hands ran along the smooth skin of your thighs, tracing the soft curves of your body as he bent your knees to your chest, giving himself a better view of your swollen pussy. Your breathing grew ragged as his fingers spread the lips of your cunt.

"You want me to let you go but your pussy says otherwise,” He looked at you with a wicked grin before diving headfirst into your cunt. You threw your head back as you felt his tongue against your clit, lapping at your essence like a man starved.

You couldn't deny that it felt good, but the idea of this human being the one to give you pleasure, that you'd been so easily captured...it infuriated you. His tongue traced the outline of your sex, and your fingers gripped his hair tightly, grinding into his face, begging him to delve deeper into your hole.

His smirk deepened complied, inserting a finger into your tight opening, the slight burning stretch made you gasp and buck against him. "Gods," you whined, needing more friction from the way his tongue slurps up your folds and the way his head jerks along with your movements. You gasped and moaned, your body shuddering as he brought you to your climax.

But San didn't relent—his tongue continued its gentle movement, prolonging the pleasure, keeping you tethered to the edge of desire.

He pulled away from you, his face glistening with your juices. He licked his lips, his eyes dark and full of desire. "So that’s what heaven tastes like," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

"M-More," you begged, your voice barely a whisper. “I need you.”

His dark eyes locked on your as he grasped your face possessively with his wet fingers. "Look at you," he purred mockingly, squeezing your cheeks until you had no choice but to meet his intense gaze. Hunger and dominance swirled in the depths of his dark eyes as he pressed your knees to your chest, your eyes crossed and delirious with euphoric bliss.

"Already fucked out and I haven’t even started," he whispered, his voice rough and desperate.

With a grin, he took himself in his hand and rubbed his tip up and down your slit. His cock twitched at the sight of you–legs up in the air and body folded over against him just waiting to be bred, pink lips puffy from rough kisses, and a look of indignation, embarrassed that you, a celestial being, had been ensnared by a mere mortal. He slapped his cock against your sensitive folds a couple of times for good measure before plunging the tip in.

"Fuuuck, you feel amazing." San buried himself in you, holding still, trembling. "So. Fucking. Tight."

With a growl, he quickened his pace. You let out a moan, wrapping your legs around him, running your nails into his back, scalp, shoulders–anywhere you could get your hands on as he slammed into you.

You looked down, enraptured by the sight of the white ring of arousal forming at the base of his cock as your cunt squelched with every thrust. You sighed, meeting his eyes and watching him watch your pussy take his dick. He looked hungry, almost desperate, like he'd die if he couldn't keep fucking you.

"You take me so well," He grunted, his thrusts becoming harder. "Fucking made for me."

Even in the midst of anger and embarrassment, your mercy shone through, a testament to the grace that defined your being. Sitting up on your forearms, you let him have full view of your cunt, let him see the way your pussy took him over and over and over. He let out a guttural moan, his fingers digging into your ass.

"This pussy is mine," he whispered darkly against your lips. His breath was hot, his gaze intense, sending a jolt of fear mixed with exhilaration through you. "Mine."

You nodded with a desperate urgency, tears welling in your eyes. "Yours," you whispered.

San hummed low in his throat and pushed his cock even deeper into you, the hand in your hair tightened painfully as he used his hold to tilt your head back. He ran his nose along your jawline, scenting you with his mortality. He wanted to ruin you, tarnish your celestial standing, to cast you out from the divine realms and strip you of your grace.

"Mine," he repeated, his hand wrapping around your throat with a slight squeeze, a possessive gesture that sent a wave of heat through you. He smiled, his hips snapping roughly into yours with a primal need, a deep, satisfied groan erupting from his chest.

"Cum in me," you pleaded, your voice a breathless whisper, unable to form any coherent thoughts as you’re fucked dumb. You were lost in the intoxicating rhythm of his movements, his presence was all-consuming, a potent blend of authority and allure that made it difficult to focus on anything but him.

Your thoughts drifted to forbidden desires, thoughts that were both exhilarating and terrifying. What would it be like, you wondered, to bear a child for a human, to defy the very laws of heaven that had governed your existence for so long? The idea was enticing a forbidden fruit that had always been just out of reach.

A deep shudder rolled through you, the heat pooling between your legs, the friction of his movements bringing you to the edge. His hand dropped between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, and you came undone. The release crashed through you, a scream ripping from your throat, leaving you gasping for air.

San’s hips stuttered, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as your pussy clenched around him, milking him for all that he was. But as he stuffs you full of cum, you remain in a soft, dreamlike haze induced by his spell.

“There’s no chance I’m letting you escape now,” he sneered, his eyes flashing with wicked delight. As you laid there, the realization settled deep within you: escape was no longer an option. The feathered robe, once a symbol of your freedom, now hung as a barrier between you and any hope of retreat.

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez reactions #ateez smut #choi san #choi san x reader #choi san smut #san smut #san x reader #san #san x you #atz smut

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alyrasturnz · 4 months ago

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OMGGG i loved your bf!matt grieving his girlfriend sooo much!!

Can there be a part 2 of him meeting a girl who like brings him out of his shell and makes him love again. then at one point they start dating and Matt thinks it’s only right to introduce her to late gf, so they go to her grave and talk for hours and that’s like a daily routine for them.

I’m gonna cry again.

BIGGER THAN THE WHOLE SKY

❐ summary » matt, still ensnared by the specter of y/n's memory, finds solace in the presence of a vivacious and empathetic woman who gradually coaxes him out of his emotional seclusion. as their connection intensifies, she rekindles his capacity for joy and affection. eventually, their relationship blossoms into romance, and matt deems it fitting to introduce her to the memory of his late girlfriend. they visit her grave, engaging in profound conversations and sharing reminiscences, making this ritual a sacrosanct daily practice. through this, they honor the past while embracing the promise of their shared future.

❐ pairings » bf!matt x fem!oc

❐ warnings » light angst?, mentions of death

❐ a/n && w/c » double update omg!! • 2.93k

matt ambled alongside natalie, their fingers intricately entwined. the sun was setting, casting an amber luminescence across the horizon. its golden rays danced upon the clouds, painting the sky in hues of warmth and serenity.

the gentle glow seemed to embrace the world, as if whispering a final farewell to the day. the colors deepened, blending into shades of fiery orange and soft pink, creating a mesmerizing tapestry that stretched across the heavens.

he adored gazing at the sunsets, a passion you shared deeply. yet, after your departure, his affection for those twilight moments seemed to intensify.

he often pondered if it was your spirit, now free, that painted the skies with such breathtaking hues, as if sending him a message through the vibrant canvases of dusk.

he was ensnared in a labyrinth of contemplation when they meandered past a particular locale—the graveyard.

he halted abruptly, his gaze shifting to the left as natalie mirrored his pause. a myriad of thoughts swirled through his mind, each vying for prominence in the tumultuous sea of his consciousness.

"matt?" she inquired, her voice laced with concern. "is something wrong?” she probed further.

his gaze settled upon your gravestone, his heart constricting painfully. yet, a tender smile slowly unfurled across his lips.

ever since you passed, he was convinced that love would elude him forever. he believed that the depth of his affection for you was unparalleled and that no one could ever reciprocate his love with the same intensity you had shown him.

until he encountered someone unexpected. natalie.

she embodied the same radiant aspects that you once did. her joy and cheerfulness were reminiscent of your own, like a mirror reflecting the past. she was imbued with the same depth of care and understanding, echoing the warmth and compassion that defined you.

"tilly," he murmured, hesitantly shifting his gaze towards her. "there's someone i'd like you to meet."

natalie tilted her head ever so slightly, her eyebrows knitting together in mild curiosity. "you do? who?" she inquired.

matt ran his free hand through his tousled hair, a gesture laden with unspoken thoughts and subtle tension. "come," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as he extended his arm to guide her. with a gentle yet insistent pull, he led her into the somber embrace of the graveyard, where shadows danced among the silent stones.

the path was adorned with a myriad of blooming flowers, their vibrant hues creating a striking juxtaposition against the somberness of their journey. each petal seemed to whisper a silent tale of beauty amidst the melancholy, a vivid reminder of life's ephemeral nature.

as they approached, matt's heart quickened, a tumultuous blend of nerves and reverence, the weight of bygone days and the aspirations for what lay ahead intertwining within him like an intricate tapestry.

he halted before the grave, feeling his heart constrict painfully within his chest, as if the very essence of his being was entwined with the silent stone before him.

matt inhaled deeply, his voice quivering with a fragile tremor. "this is y/n," he uttered, his gaze fixed upon the gravestone. "she was... she was everything to me."

she inclined her head slightly, her eyes suffused with a gentle understanding. "i can see that," she murmured softly, her voice a delicate whisper. "tell me more about her."

matt's lips curved into a bittersweet smile, his eyes reflecting a distant memory. "she had this incredible laugh, you know?" he began, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "it was like a symphony, each note resonating with joy." he paused, his fingers tracing the outline of the gravestone as if seeking a tangible connection. "and she was always so kind, perpetually putting others before herself," he continued, his voice softening. "she had this uncanny ability to make everyone feel extraordinary, as if they were the sole focus of her universe."

"she sounds wonderful," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she squeezed his hand gently. her gaze lingered on his, filled with a profound empathy. "i wish i could have met her," she added, her other hand reaching up to brush a stray tear from his cheek.

"me too," matt said, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. he took a deep breath, his fingers intertwining with hers. "but i'm glad you're here with me now," he added, his hand gently squeezing hers as if drawing strength from her presence.

they sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the past and the promise of the future hanging in the air like a delicate balance. the soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds filled the void, adding a serene backdrop to their shared moment.

finally, she spoke again, her voice gentle yet resolute. "it's important to remember her, matt. she's a part of you, and i want to know every part of you," she said, her eyes reflecting a deep, unwavering commitment.

matt felt a surge of gratitude wash over him, his heart swelling with unspoken emotions. "thank you," he said, his voice thick with feeling. "it means a lot to me that you're here, that you understand," he added, his eyes locking onto hers with a profound sense of appreciation and connection.

she smiled, her eyes shining with an empathetic glow. "we're in this together, matt," she said softly, her voice imbued with unwavering conviction. "always."

a gentle breeze rustled the leaves around them, carrying whispers of the past and the promise of the present. matt felt a profound sense of peace wash over him, as if the very air was imbued with her spirit. "i feel like she's giving us her blessing," he said softly, his voice tinged with a reverent awe.

"i think so too," she replied, leaning her head gently on his shoulder. "let's keep her memory alive, and build our future together."

matt nodded, feeling a profound sense of closure and burgeoning hope. "yes," he said, his voice resonating with strength and steadiness. "together."

the sun casted a golden glow over the cemetery, bathing the scene in a warm, ethereal light. they lingered there, reminiscing about y/n, sharing stories and memories that danced on the edge of their consciousness. matt found himself opening up in ways he hadn't before, each word lifting a weight from his heart, making him feel lighter with every shared moment.

"you know," he said after a while, his gaze distant and thoughtful, "she would have loved you. you have the same kind of warmth, the same way of making people feel at ease."

she blushed slightly, a delicate flush spreading across her cheeks as his words settled deep within her. "i hope i can honor her memory by being here for you," she replied, her voice soft yet resolute, her eyes shimmering with a mix of determination and tenderness.

"you already are," matt assured her, his voice steady and sincere. "you've brought light back into my life, something i thought i'd lost forever," he continued, his eyes reflecting a profound gratitude and a sense of rediscovered hope.

matt felt a sense of calm he hadn't experienced in ages, a tranquility that had eluded him for so long. y/n's memory would forever linger in his heart, an indelible part of his soul, but now he had someone to share that cherished memory with, someone who understood and embraced every facet of his being.

this newfound presence in his life brought a profound sense of solace and acceptance, weaving a tapestry of shared moments and mutual understanding that he had thought impossible to find again.

"let's go home," he said softly, and matt knew that wherever they went, as long as they were together, he had found his true sanctuary. the notion of home transcended mere walls and roofs; it was now intricately woven with the presence of the one who stood beside him, creating a haven of shared experiences and unspoken understanding.

she nodded, a silent agreement passing between them. he began to rise, his movements slow and deliberate, as he walked away with his head bowed, lost in a labyrinth of thoughts and emotions, each step echoing the weight of his contemplations.

natalie lingered, her gaze fixed on the gravestone for one final, poignant moment. with a sigh, she ran her hand against the cold, unyielding stone, feeling the rough texture beneath her fingertips as memories flooded her mind.

"i'll take care of him. i promise," she said softly, a gentle smile gracing her lips. with a sense of resolve, she rose to her feet and swiftly ran after matt, her heart determined and her spirit unwavering.

»--•--«

it had become a customary ritual for natalie and matt to visit you, a solemn pilgrimage that tethered them to cherished memories. however, on this day, the relentless demands of matt's work had ensnared him, leading him to forsake their plans with natalie, prioritizing the ceaseless grind over their sacred tradition.

matt, already ensnared in the labyrinth of his work, found the hours dissolving into an indistinct haze of tasks and looming deadlines. natalie, on the other hand, was acutely aware of the void that permeated the house, a hollow resonance of the vibrant life that once animated it. matt's absence had evolved into a persistent ache, a poignant reminder of the ever-widening chasm that was steadily growing between them.

seeking some semblance of solace, natalie resolved to visit the grave. she gathered a bouquet of flowers, their vibrant hues a striking contrast to the somber gray of the headstone. upon arriving at the cemetery, she knelt by the grave, placing the flowers tenderly at its base, a silent offering to the memories that lingered.

her back was reclined against your gravestone, her head bowed as she absentmindedly toyed with the rings on her fingers, each twist and turn a reflection of the turmoil within her heart.

she pivoted, sinking to her knees as her gaze fell upon your grave, a silent communion with the stone that bore your name.

the cool earth beneath her hands anchored her, and she began to speak, her voice a soft, trembling murmur that seemed to blend with the whispering breeze.

"matt's been so distant," she said, her fingers slowly and meticulously tracing the engraved letters, feeling each groove and indentation. "he's always working, and i feel like i'm losing him. it's like he's here but not really. i don't know how to reach him anymore."

as she poured out her heart, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, their soft whispers mingling with her words. she felt a subtle connection, as if the very air around her was listening, absorbing her every emotion. the wind seemed to whisper back, its gentle caress a comforting presence that made her feel less alone, as though nature itself was offering solace.

"you always knew how to bring him back," she continued, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "you were so patient with him, so understanding. i just... i don’t know what to do. i wish you were here to help me, to guide me."

the wind picked up slightly, caressing her face with the gentleness of a lover's touch. she closed her eyes, allowing the moment to envelop her, feeling an unexpected sense of peace amidst her inner turmoil.

it was as though, through the symphony of rustling leaves and the tender embrace of the breeze, she could still commune with you.

"i'm trying to be strong," natalie whispered, her voice barely audible, like a fragile echo in the vast silence. "but it's so hard without him. i feel so lost sometimes. please, give me a sign, anything to let me know i'm not alone in this."

the wind seemed to respond, swirling around her in a gentle embrace, as if acknowledging her silent plea. she took a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of determination course through her veins.

she knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but in that fleeting moment, she felt a glimmer of hope, a poignant reminder that she was not entirely alone in her journey.

with a final, lingering touch on the gravestone, natalie rose to her feet, her resolve steeled and her spirit fortified, ready to confront the myriad challenges that lay ahead.

»--•--«

this time, matt found himself standing before your gravestone, a tangible symbol of the solace he sought. the intricate dance of his professional ambitions and his delicate relationship with natalie had woven a web of complexities that ensnared his every waking thought. the weight of his career's relentless demands bore down upon him, threatening to overshadow the tender connection he cherished with natalie.

matt approached your gravestone, each step laden with the weight of his myriad burdens. he leaned against the cold, unyielding stone, a deep, weary sigh escaping his lips. "work has been consuming me," he began, his voice raw with frustration and fatigue. "i'm drowning in it, and i can feel tilly slipping through my fingers. i don't know how to stop it, how to hold on to her."

he paused, eyes closed, waiting for the familiar whisper of the wind that always seemed to carry your voice, a comforting presence in his tumultuous world. but today, there was only an oppressive silence, an emptiness that gnawed relentlessly at his heart.

he chuckled softly, a bittersweet sound that reverberated through the stillness. "tilly has probably come here already and talked to you about me, hasn't she?" he asked, his voice laced with a blend of resignation and hope. "i can sense it. you're mad at me, aren't you?"

the air remained unnervingly still, the silence almost unbearable. he ran a hand through his hair, the weight of his guilt pressing down with an almost tangible force. "i'm trying, you know," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "i'm trying to balance everything, to be there for her, but it's so hard. i need a sign, something to let me know i'm not completely failing."

just then, a gentle breeze stirred, caressing his face with a touch so familiar that it brought tears to his eyes. he closed his eyes, allowing the sensation to wash over him, feeling your presence envelop him like a warm embrace. it was a silent reassurance, a whisper from the past that he wasn't alone, even in his darkest moments.

a small, relieved smile played on his lips, a delicate curve that spoke volumes. "i knew you'd come around," he murmured, his voice imbued with gratitude and a newfound resolve. "thank you. i promise, i'll do better. i'll hold on to her, for both of us."

with that, he lingered a while longer, feeling the wind's gentle embrace, drawing strength from the connection that transcended the boundaries of life and death. he spoke of the little things that had been weighing on his mind—how the house felt emptier without your laughter, how he missed the way you used to illuminate a room with your presence. he spoke of natalie's smile, how it mirrored yours, and how he feared losing that light in his life.

as the sun began to set, casting elongated shadows across the graveyard, matt felt a profound sense of peace wash over him. he knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he also knew he wouldn't be traversing it alone. with one last, lingering look at your gravestone, he whispered a heartfelt thank you, vowing to return again soon.

he walked away, feeling lighter, the weight of his burdens eased by the silent conversation with you. he knew he had to make changes, to find a balance that allowed him to cherish the people he loved without being consumed by the demands of work.

»--•--«

the subsequent day, natalie and matt found themselves inexorably drawn together, the residual angst in their relationship having finally dissipated. natalie brought your favorite flowers, their vibrant hues a striking juxtaposition against the somber surroundings. they placed the blooms tenderly by your grave, a silent homage to the one they both held dear.

they sat side by side, the weight of unspoken words gradually lifting as they began to converse. their dialogue flowed effortlessly, each utterance a step towards mending their hearts.

they reminisced about memories, shared dreams, and the love that still intricately bound them to you. the air was imbued with a sense of tranquility, as if your presence lingered, listening and smiling with them.

"i can't believe how much we've been through," natalie murmured softly, her fingers delicately tracing the petals of the flowers. "but being here, with you and y/n, it feels like we're finally finding our way."

matt nodded thoughtfully, his eyes lingering on the gravestone as if seeking solace in its silent presence. he ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture of contemplation. "she always had a way of bringing us together, even now. i think she knew we needed this."

"we do," natalie agreed, her voice trembling slightly as she clasped her hands together, as though seeking comfort from the gesture. "thank you, y/n. for everything."

as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the graveyard, natalie and matt whispered their thanks to you. the light filtered through the trees, creating a mosaic of shadows and warmth around them.

they knew that, in your own enigmatic way, you had helped mend the rift between them. together, they vowed to honor your memory by living fully and loving deeply, knowing that you would always be an indelible part of their journey, guiding them from afar.

taglist — @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @bandanamatt @thedangerousalleyway @muchloveforhacker @stinkytinkywinky @jetaimevous @everleiqh @conspiracy-ash @ifwdominicfike @blahbel668

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grey-sorcery · 3 months ago

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[Title]: Spellcasting At an Intermediate Level

Related Reading (*Highly recommended)

Basics of Spellcasting Intermediate Gnosis* Energy Work Fundamentals Intermediate Energy Work Advanced Energy Work Energetic Constructs Anchors Basics of Astral Projection Non-Sympathetic Magic (Patreon Exclusive) Threshold Theory Correspondences* Visualization: Effective Implementation* Spell Logs* Taglocks Bias in Witchcraft Magical Potency*

Introduction

So you’ve mastered the basics, Congratulations! Intermediate witchcraft represents a transformative phase in a practitioner's journey, where foundational knowledge is expanded and refined through deeper engagement with esoteric principles. Here, practitioners gain an enhanced understanding of gnosis—the direct, experiential knowledge of magical and spiritual truths—and learn to navigate the intricacies of circumstance, aligning their practices with environmental, social, astrological, and energetic influences. Daily rituals become more nuanced, incorporating diverse components such as consistent mindfulness and complex energy work. New methods of spellcasting emerge, emphasizing the importance of precise spell dictation and meticulous record keeping to track efficacy and refine techniques. Continuous learning is vital, as practitioners explore new magical theories and methods while actively participating in their community. This dynamic interplay of personal development and communal exchange fosters a richer, more sophisticated approach to witchcraft, facilitating both individual growth and collective wisdom.

Gnosis & Circumstance

Gnosis

Gnosis, in the context of magical practice, refers to a profound state of experiential knowledge that transcends ordinary cognition. It is not merely intellectual understanding but a deep, intuitive grasp of the underlying currents that shape reality. Gnosis allows the practitioner to perceive and interact with the subtle energies that permeate the world, enabling the manipulation of these energies for specific outcomes. This state is often achieved through altered states of consciousness, wherein the mind operates differently than the mundane, everyday awareness.

Altered states of consciousness are essential for the acquisition and application of gnosis. These states can be described as a spectrum of mental conditions where normal cognitive processes are suspended, allowing access to layers of reality that are usually obscured by ordinary perception. These states can range from light trances to deep, immersive experiences where the boundaries between the self and the environment dissolve. Such states are not merely a psychological phenomenon but are understood as a means of attuning the practitioner's mind to the frequencies that govern the subtle aspects of existence. The deeper the state of consciousness, the more profound the level of gnosis achieved, and thus, the more potent the magical workings can become.

However, a state of gnosis can be aimed and corralled into a more specific subset of conceptualizations. This technique involves the deliberate construction of intricate thought patterns and networks of ideas that are imbued with the practitioner’s will. These mental networks function as a framework upon which the energies of the spell can be organized and directed.

This practice requires a high level of mental discipline and clarity, as the constructs must be maintained with precision. Any lapse in focus can disrupt the integrity of the mental network, weakening the spell's effectiveness. The process of conceptualization is, therefore, both a mental and energetic act, where the practitioner not only organizes their thoughts but also aligns their energies with the desired outcome.

Circumstance

Circumstance refers to the external factors and conditions that can influence the effectiveness of magical workings. While gnosis is an internal state, circumstance encompasses the external environment, the emotional and energetic states of those involved, and the alignment of time and space. A deep understanding of circumstance allows the practitioner to harmonize their workings with the natural flow of the natural world, enhancing the potency of their magic.

External factors serve as amplifiers or dampeners of the energy that the practitioner seeks to manipulate. When the circumstances align favorably, the energies flow more smoothly, and the desired outcome is more likely to manifest. Conversely, if the circumstances are in opposition to the desired outcome, the practitioner may encounter resistance, making the working less effective or even entirely ineffectual. Several elements constitute the circumstantial factors that can influence magical workings. These include environmental conditions, the emotional and energetic states of those involved, and temporal and celestial alignments.

The environment in which a spell is cast can have a profound impact on its success. Factors such as weather, temperature, and the presence of natural elements can either support or hinder the flow of energy. For instance, a spell cast during a storm may harness the chaotic and powerful energies of the weather, amplifying its effect. On the other hand, trying to cast a spell in a stifling, oppressive environment may drain the practitioner’s energy, reducing the spell’s potency.

The emotional and energetic states of both the practitioner and those nearby are critical components of circumstance. Emotions can generate powerful energetic fields that may influence the outcome of a spell, either positively or negatively. A practitioner in a state of calm, focused determination is more likely to channel energy effectively than one who is distracted or agitated. Similarly, the emotional states of others in the vicinity can also impact the spell. If those nearby are supportive and aligned with the spell’s purpose, their energies can contribute to its success. Conversely, if they are skeptical, fearful, or antagonistic, their negative energies can interfere with the spell, weakening its effect.

Timing is a crucial element in determining the efficacy of spellwork, with astrological alignments and aspects playing a significant role. The positions and interactions of celestial bodies such as the sun, moon, planets, and stars are believed to influence the energies available at any given moment, thereby impacting the success of a spell.

For instance, a conjunction of Venus and Jupiter might be seen as particularly auspicious for rituals involving love and prosperity, as the energies of these planets synergize to amplify such intentions. In contrast, a square aspect between Mars and Saturn might introduce obstacles or resistance, making it an inopportune time for initiating new ventures. Similarly, certain planetary transits, like Mercury retrograde, are often viewed as periods for reflection and review rather than action.

Combining Gnosis and Circumstance for Effective Spellcasting

Combining gnosis and circumstance is essential for effective spellcasting. While gnosis provides the practitioner with the internal focus and control needed to direct subtle energies, circumstance ensures that these energies are aligned with the natural flow of the world. The integration of these two aspects allows the practitioner to cast spells that are both powerful and harmonious with the surrounding environment. The most effective spells are those where gnosis and circumstance are perfectly aligned. In such workings, the practitioner’s internal state is in harmony with the external environment, creating a synergistic effect that amplifies the power of the spell.

To achieve this, the practitioner must carefully prepare both internally and externally. Internally, they must reach a state of gnosis through techniques such as meditation, breathwork, and mental networking. Externally, they must assess and, if necessary, modify the circumstances to align with the desired outcome. This might involve choosing the right time and place for the spell, ensuring that the emotional and energetic states of all involved are aligned, and selecting an environment that supports the working.

The integration of gnosis and circumstance is not a passive process but requires active engagement and awareness. The practitioner must be attuned to both their internal state and the external environment, constantly assessing and adjusting as necessary to ensure optimal alignment. This might involve making small adjustments, such as altering the timing of the spell or choosing a different location, or more significant changes, such as working to shift the emotional or energetic states of those involved in the working. The difficulty lies in the potential to disrupt the state of gnosis by becoming too rigid, or by allowing the mind to wander too far. Oftentimes, gnosis is broken for simple reasons such as: not having incantations memorized, not knowing exactly where tools or objects are located at the time they are to be used, and being interrupted by another person in person or through cell phone notification(s).

In more complex workings, where multiple practitioners are involved, the importance of aligning gnosis and circumstance becomes even more pronounced. Each practitioner must not only achieve their own state of gnosis but must also harmonize their energies with those of the other participants. This requires a high degree of coordination and communication, ensuring that all involved are in a similar state of awareness and that the external circumstances are conducive to the collective working. The coordination of group magic might involve shared meditative practices, synchronized breathwork, or collective rituals that align the energies of all participants. The external circumstances must also be carefully managed, ensuring that the timing, location, and emotional environment are supportive of the collective intention. When all these elements are in alignment, the combined energies of the group can create a powerful and unified force, greatly enhancing the effectiveness of the spell.

Daily Practices

Integrating spellcraft and spellcasting into daily life is a practice that not only elevates mundane routines but also deepens the practitioner's connection with the underlying forces that shape their existence. By weaving magical practices into everyday activities, one can cultivate a continuous awareness of the subtle currents of energy that permeate all aspects of life. This approach to spellcraft emphasizes the importance of consistent engagement and intentional living, enabling practitioners to harness and direct these energies with precision and purpose.

Incorporating simple rituals and spells into daily life does not require elaborate preparations or rarefied tools; instead, it hinges on the practitioner's ability to imbue routine actions with deeper significance. These daily rituals can be as simple as lighting a candle in the morning, stirring a cup of tea, or walking barefoot on the earth. Each of these actions can be transformed into a magical practice through conscious focus, gnosis, and an understanding of the symbolic and energetic dimensions of the act.

Mindfulness & Energy Work

Magical mindfulness involves cultivating a heightened awareness of the present moment, with an emphasis on the subtle energies that surround and influence us. By integrating this awareness into daily activities, practitioners can transform routine tasks into opportunities for magical work.

One way to incorporate magical mindfulness into daily life is through breathwork. Breath is the most immediate and accessible form of life force, and by consciously controlling the breath, practitioners can influence their own energetic state. A simple practice is to take a few moments each day to focus on the breath, breathing deeply and evenly. This can be done during any mundane activity—such as washing dishes, commuting, or walking. By synchronizing the breath with the rhythm of the activity, the practitioner creates a harmonic resonance between their internal and external environments. This practice not only calms the mind and body but also enhances the practitioner’s ability to channel and direct energy.

Another practice that embodies magical mindfulness is the art of visualization through sensory engagement. As the practitioner goes about their day, they can focus on the sensory experiences of their surroundings—textures, colors, sounds, and scents—using these as focal points for meditation and magical work. For example, while washing hands, the practitioner might focus on the sensation of the water flowing over their skin, envisioning it as a cleansing force that washes away negativity. By engaging the senses in this way, the practitioner deepens their connection to the present moment and harnesses the power of sensory perception in their magical practice.

Energy work, too, can be seamlessly integrated into daily life. Practices such as grounding, centering, and warding can be performed at any time, allowing the practitioner to maintain a balanced and protected energy field. But of all the ways to implement energy work into your daily routine, is by practicing each aspect of basic energy work. Below, I’ve listed each of the basic 7 aspects of energy work. This practice is detailed, multi-layered, and sequential in its approach, suggesting that each aspect builds upon the mastery of the previous one. Let us explore each aspect in detail, considering practical implications. It is recommended that each step is done daily, up to what is feasible.

[These practices are further detailed in my Energy Work Fundamentals and Intermediate Energy Work articles.] (See: Related Reading)

1st Aspect: The Act of Resealing

Concept and Practice:

The first aspect involves a technique of energy reclamation and reintegration. When one experiences intense emotions or sensations (such as joy, awe, fear, anger, or beauty), there is a natural release of energy, often physically felt as "goosebumps" or a tingling sensation. This practice instructs the practitioner to become aware of this released energy and to gather it back into their body. The process described involves feeling for external energies, which should feel similar to smoke or fog, which is then drawn back into the body and stored in the Wellsource.

Significance:

The act of resealing is significant because it emphasizes the importance of energy conservation and control. By reclaiming and reintegrating energy, one ensures that their energy is not dissipated into the environment but rather retained for personal use. This practice could be seen as foundational, ensuring that the practitioner maintains a stable and contained energetic field.

Mastery:

Able to absorb energy from any given location on the body.

Able to absorb through an area of any possible given size.

Able to absorb at any given rate of flow

2nd Aspect: The Act of Expansion

Concept and Practice:

This aspect focuses on the expansion of one's energy field beyond the physical body. The practitioner is instructed to first become acutely aware of their skin and the sensations across it. Then, by breathing into their wellsource, they are to expand this energy field outward, extending their awareness beyond their physical form. The exercise is essentially an act of growing one's energetic influence and awareness to encompass the space around them.

Significance:

The release and expansion of energy is crucial for those who wish to interact with the external world on an energetic level. By releasing energy, you can consciously feed projections and constructs into spells or spells into constructs. By expanding one's energy, the practitioner can project their awareness and influence into their surroundings, potentially affecting and interacting with external energies and entities. This practice lays the groundwork for more advanced forms of energetic manipulation.

Mastery:

Able to release energy from any given location on the body.

Able to release through an area of any possible given size.

Able to release at any given rate of flow

Able to expand energetic field and energetic awareness by extension

3rd Aspect: The Act of Form

Concept and Practice:

The third aspect introduces the concept of shaping energy into specific forms. The practitioner is instructed to draw energy from their wellsource into their hands and shape it into a sphere through minute manipulations of their energetic field in tandem with energy being released from their palms, and then into a more complex geometric shape like an octahedron. This exercise involves not just the visualization of the shape as a mould but also the tangible feeling of the energy as it takes form and becomes a distinct entity separate from the practitioner's body or field.

Significance:

Forming energy into shapes is a method of giving structure to one's energetic output. It is a step towards more precise and intentional energy work, where the practitioner can create and manipulate energetic constructs. The ability to give energy form implies control over its properties and purpose, which is vital in any advanced magical practice. Without being able to form energy, a practitioner would be unable to generate energetic constructs.

Mastery:

Able to create and maintain a sphere, octahedron, dodecahedron, tetrahedron, cube, and torus for any given amount of time.

Able to modify the form, but not size, of an object without losing or gaining energy.

4th Aspect: The Act of Density

Concept and Practice:

Here, the practitioner learns to condense their energy into a smaller, denser form. The exercise begins with a sphere of energy, which is then filled with more energy without increasing its size. Eventually, the sphere is condensed to the smallest possible point, concentrating its energy to an extreme degree.

Significance:

Density in energy work is akin to intensity or potency. By mastering this aspect, the practitioner gains the ability to concentrate vast amounts of energy into a small, powerful form. This could have numerous applications, from creating more effective energetic tools or shields to enhancing the impact of energetic or magical work. It also teaches the practitioner the importance of not just quantity of energy, but quality and concentration.

Mastery:

Able to create a form and manipulate its energetic density to any given degree without altering its size or form.

Able to generate hyper-dense energetic constructs at an infinitesimally small size.

5th Aspect: The Act of Precision

Concept and Practice:

Precision involves directing one's energy with pinpoint accuracy. The practitioner starts with their dense, microscopic sphere of energy and transforms it into a sliver, which is then directed toward a specific target. The sliver can be expanded or contracted as needed, but the focus is on the ability to direct this energy with extreme precision.

Significance:

Precision is vital in energy work, especially in applications that require targeted effects, such as healing, protective wards, or the manipulation of specific aspects of reality. By mastering precision, the practitioner ensures that their energy reaches exactly where it is intended, without waste or unintended side effects. This also involves a heightened level of control over one’s energy.

Mastery:

Able to control minute but hyper dense quanta of energy with precision without losing concentration

6th Aspect: The Act of Mitosis

Concept and Practice:

The act of mitosis involves the division of one's energy into multiple identical forms. The practitioner begins with a single sphere of energy, which is then divided into two, and then these two are divided again, continuing until the forms are innumerable. The challenge here is to maintain the energy in each form without losing any of its potency or control.

Significance:

This aspect symbolizes the ability to replicate and distribute one's energy without loss of power or coherence. It could be seen as a metaphor for creating multiple points of influence or for multitasking on an energetic level. The ability to maintain many identical forms of energy suggests a mastery of control and a deep understanding of the nature of energy itself. This skill could be essential in complex rituals, where multiple energetic tasks must be performed simultaneously.

Mastery:

Able to create a simple form and then split it into a minimum of 32 individual units, each with unique paths through space with unique velocities while maintaining size, form, and density of each form.

7th Aspect: The Act of Frequency

Concept and Practice:

The final aspect involves the alteration of the vibrational frequency of one's own energy. The practitioner first creates a spherical form of energy and observes its natural color and vibration. Then, through intent and breath, the practitioner alters this form, changing its color and vibrational quality. The practitioner is encouraged to notice the effects of these changes on their own body and surroundings.

Significance:

Frequency in this context relates to the vibrational quality of energy, which can influence how it interacts with other energies and matter. By mastering frequency, the practitioner can fine-tune their energy to resonate with or counteract other frequencies. This skill is crucial for advanced energy work, where the practitioner needs to align their energy with specific outcomes or harmonize with external forces. This final aspect suggests a culmination of all previous skills, where the practitioner not only controls and shapes their energy but also tunes it to the desired frequency for precise and effective results.

Mastery:

Able to manipulate the qualities of any given quanta of energy to any other desired qualities, without using outside interference to accomplish it.

Integrating the Seven Aspects

The Seven Aspects together form a comprehensive system of energy mastery. Each aspect builds upon the last, leading the practitioner from basic energy reclamation to advanced manipulation of frequency. The journey through the aspects is one of increasing control, precision, and understanding of one's energy and its interaction with the world.

This system emphasizes not just the technical aspects of energy work but also the importance of awareness and intent. Each exercise requires the practitioner to be fully present and conscious of their actions, reinforcing the idea that energy work is not just about power but about mindfulness and deliberate action.

In a broader spiritual or esoteric context, mastering the Seven Aspects could be seen as a path to self-mastery, where control over one's energy equates to control over one's life force, emotions, and interactions with the universe. This path could lead to a heightened state of being, where the practitioner is in harmony with their own energy and the energies of the world around them.

Exploring New Casting Methods

Understanding the Flow and Manipulation of Energy

Energetic magic represents one of the most fundamental aspects of magical practice, revolving around the ability to perceive, harness, and manipulate the subtle currents of energy that permeate all things. At its core, this practice demands sensitivity to these energies, allowing the practitioner to tap into these forces and mold them according to their will. Doing so expands the means through which practitioners can cast spells.

To cast purely energetic magic, one must first recognize that energy is not confined to physical forms or measurable quantities. It exists in a spectrum that ranges from the dense, tangible energies found in material objects to the more elusive, subtle forces that underlie space. This energy can be found in the natural world, within the human body, and even in the abstract connections between entities and ideas. Practitioners of energetic magic learn to perceive these flows, sensing the way energy moves, accumulates, and disperses. This heightened awareness is crucial, as the manipulation of these forces requires a delicate balance of precision and strength.

Astral Magic

Astral magic involves the exploration and manipulation of spatial and non-physical dimensions of existence. Central to this practice is the concept of astral projection, wherein the practitioner consciously separates their awareness from their physical body, enabling them to navigate these unseen realms.

In this state, the practitioner navigates expansive realms of consciousness and environments that elude the physical senses. These experiences are often characterized as intensely vivid and beyond the scope of ordinary reality, with perceptions that surpass conventional sensory limitations. Importantly, such experiences are independent of physical senses, and relying on practices like visualization can actually obstruct the practitioner's efforts. The sensory experience of these non-physical planes defies easy description, leading many practitioners to resort to analogies. While vision might serve as a metaphor for certain energetic perceptions, it falls short in capturing essential elements like dimensionality and scale. Moreover, though spirits may traverse planes accessible to the practitioner, they do not reside within these realms. A key marker of a genuine non-physical experience is the absence of interaction with spirits, particularly the lack of any structured spirit society. The presence of such a concept should immediately raise suspicion, as it suggests personal narrative rather than authentic experience.

During astral projection, a practitioner retains the ability to cast spells with full efficacy. This approach is particularly effective for performing non-sympathetic magic, which does not depend on the use of a taglock or the principles of sympathetic magic. Unlike sympathetic magic, which often requires a physical link to the target, non-sympathetic magic operates independently of such connections. However, it is important to note that this form of spellcasting is most efficiently conducted within our standard spatial dimension, rather than in any extradimensional spaces. The reason for this is that the practitioner needs direct access to their intended target, something that is best achieved within the confines of the physical world.

Attempting to cast in an extradimensional context can introduce complexities that may diminish the spell's effectiveness, as the practitioner's connection to the target becomes less direct and more abstract. While astral projection offers a unique vantage point and can provide valuable insights, the mechanics of casting often require the practitioner to be firmly anchored in their native spatial reality. This ensures that the magical energy is channeled precisely and reaches its intended target without unnecessary distortion or delay. Thus, while astral projection can complement and enhance spellwork, it is most effective when combined with the physical presence required for non-sympathetic magic.

[This practice is further detailed in my Non-Sympathetic Magic article on Patreon.] (See: Related Reading)

Fate Magic

Fate magic, a branch of occult practice that deals with the manipulation of destiny, operates on the belief that the threads of one's life are not entirely fixed, but can be influenced or redirected through magical means. This concept is rooted in the idea that fate is not a singular, unchangeable force, but rather a complex web of possibilities and probabilities, each interconnected and subject to change. This type of working becomes easier to conceptualize if these strings of fate are thought of as having an energetic make up.

In fate magic, the practitioner seeks to understand the underlying patterns and forces that shape their own life and the lives of others. This involves a deep exploration of the concept of destiny, recognizing that while some aspects of life may be predestined or inevitable, others remain fluid and open to influence. The practitioner learns to identify the key moments or decisions that hold the greatest potential for altering the course of fate, and through their magical work, they seek to nudge these moments in the desired direction.

Fate magic opens an interesting discussion of the philosophy of self-determination vs. predetermination, or free-will vs. predetermined action. In my personal experience working with fate in magical practice, I have found that some arguments of both stances resonate true. Especially when multiverse theory is considered.

Techniques for Influencing and Altering Fate

The practitioner must first gain a clear understanding of the current trajectory of events, often through direct experience, visions derived from dreams, and divinatory practices such as cartomancy, cleromancy, or scrying. These methods provide glimpses into the possible futures that lie ahead, allowing the practitioner to identify the points of greatest influence as well as potential paths of least resistance.

Once the practitioner has identified the target, they can employ a variety of techniques to influence fate. One common method involves the use of sympathetic magic, where the practitioner creates a symbolic representation of the desired outcome and then enacts a series of ritual actions designed to bring it into reality. This may involve the use of candles, herbs, or other ritual tools, each chosen for their specific correspondences to the desired outcome.

Another technique involves the direct manipulation of fate strings. In this practice, the practitioner seeks to alter the flow of energy through these strings, either consciously or by severing them through a cord-cutting ritual. The energies within fate strings are complex and difficult to transmute as a whole, but can be gradually adjusted by introducing various energetic compounds. The rate of flow through fate strings is easier to accomplish, however. These practices can be done using visualization as a tool, but not as the practice. Rather, the practitioner needs to affect the string through its connecting point at the Wellsource.

Common examples of Fate-Altering Spells and Rituals

Fate-altering spells and rituals can take many forms, depending on the specific goals and circumstances of the practitioner. Here are a few examples that illustrate the diversity and complexity of fate magic:

- The Web of Fate Ritual (European Paganism): This sympathetic ritual involves creating a physical representation of the interconnectedness of events and choices. The practitioner constructs a web-like structure using threads or cords, each strand symbolizing a different aspect of fate. At the center of the web lies the practitioner’s goal or desired outcome. As the ritual progresses, the practitioner methodically manipulates the strands, symbolically altering the connections between different aspects of fate to guide the overall outcome towards the center. This ritual is particularly useful for complex situations where multiple factors need to be influenced simultaneously.

The Crossroads Spell (African Diaspora): Drawing from traditions that associate crossroads as places of power, this spell seeks to influence a pivotal decision or moment in the practitioner's life. The crossroads are symbolically represented, and the practitioner must meditate on the different paths available to them. Offerings are made to the forces that govern fate, asking for guidance or intervention to ensure that the chosen path leads to the desired outcome. This spell emphasizes the importance of choice and the critical moments that can determine the course of one's life.

The Turning of the Wheel (Wiccan): This spell is designed to influence the cycles and phases of life, often used when the practitioner seeks to end a period of difficulty or initiate a new phase of growth. The "wheel" represents the cycles of time and fate, and the ritual involves the physical turning of a wheel-like object, such as a disk or stone. As the wheel turns, the practitioner focuses on the transition from one phase to another, directing energy to bring about the desired change. This spell is particularly potent during natural transitions, such as solstices, equinoxes, or significant personal milestones.

Evocation, Invocation, and Spirit Contracts

It should be noted that most easily accessible information regarding Invocations and Evocations are from Ceremonial Magick sources, such as Order of The Golden Dawn, Rosicrucianism, and Thelema (Crowley). While these practices exist across many diasporas, these sources are far more published in writing since most other traditions require initiation and/or are passed down orally. These readily available sources derive most of their practices through the gradual evolution of ideas taken from Jewish, Taoist, Arab diasporic, Kemetic, and Hindu traditions combined with interpretations of medieval texts and Gnosticism.

Evocation is the practice of calling forth spirits, deities, or other non-physical entities into the presence of the practitioner. Unlike invocation, which involves inviting an entity to enter the practitioner’s body or consciousness, evocation keeps the entity external, allowing for interaction without direct possession. This distinction is crucial, as it delineates the boundaries of influence and control in the ritual.

The purpose of evocation varies widely, ranging from seeking knowledge or guidance to requesting assistance in magical workings. The practitioner must possess a thorough understanding of the nature of the entity they intend to summon, including its attributes, strengths, weaknesses, and any historical or mythological context that might influence its behavior. This knowledge is essential not only for successful evocation but also for ensuring the safety and efficacy of the ritual.

Preparing for and Conducting Evocation

Preparation for evocation involves several key steps, each designed to create the optimal conditions for summoning the entity and ensuring a controlled interaction. The first step is the purification of the ritual space, which may involve cleansing with incense, salt, or other purifying substances. This process serves to clear any unwanted energies or influences, creating a neutral environment where the entity can manifest without interference.

Next, the practitioner must construct a protective barrier, often in the form of a circle or triangle, to contain the summoned entity and prevent it from acting beyond the confines of the ritual. This barrier is typically created using a combination of symbols, words of power, and energetic techniques, each chosen for their effectiveness in controlling the specific type of entity being evoked. The practitioner must also prepare offerings or sacrifices, depending on the nature of the entity, as a sign of respect and as a means of appeasement.

The actual process of evocation begins with the recitation of a summoning incantation, which may be drawn from traditional grimoires or composed by the practitioner. The incantation serves as a focal point for the practitioner’s will, calling the entity forth from its domain into the physical or mental plane. During this process, the practitioner must maintain a state of heightened awareness and control, as the entity may resist or challenge the summoning. Once the entity has been successfully evoked, the practitioner must engage in dialogue or negotiation, clearly stating their purpose and intentions while being mindful of the entity’s nature and potential responses.

Building Relationships with Entities

While evocation isn't necessary to interact with spirits, successful evocation often leads to ongoing relationships with the summoned entities, particularly if the practitioner intends to work with them regularly. Building a strong relationship with an entity involves mutual respect, trust, and a deep understanding of each other’s needs and capabilities.

One of the primary ways to build such a relationship is through regular offerings and rituals that honor the entity. These acts of devotion demonstrate the practitioner’s commitment and respect, fostering goodwill and cooperation. The practitioner may also seek to learn more about the entity’s preferences, attributes, and history, using this knowledge to tailor their rituals and interactions in ways that are pleasing to the entity.

In some cases, the relationship may evolve into a form of mentorship, where the entity provides the practitioner with guidance, knowledge, or power in exchange for continued offerings or services. These relationships can be highly beneficial, but they require careful management to ensure that the balance of power remains equitable and that the practitioner does not become overly reliant on the entity.

Contractual Considerations and Safety Measures

When working with powerful entities, particularly those of a more complex or dangerous nature, it is often common and necessary to establish formal agreements or contracts. These contracts outline the terms of the relationship, including what the entity will provide, what the practitioner will offer in return, and any limitations or boundaries that must be observed.

Crafting a spirit contract requires precision and clarity. The terms must be explicit and unambiguous, leaving no room for misinterpretation or exploitation. This often involves the use of traditional legalistic language or the incorporation of specific magical terms that bind the entity to the agreement. The contract may be inscribed on parchment, sealed with specific symbols or sigils, and consecrated through ritual actions to ensure its validity.

Safety measures are paramount when engaging in spirit contracts or any form of evocation. The practitioner must be aware of the potential risks, including the possibility of deception, coercion, or retaliation from the entity. Protective measures, such as the use of wards, protective talismans, or the invocation of higher powers for protection, are essential to safeguarding the practitioner and maintaining control over the ritual.

Additionally, the practitioner must be prepared for the possibility that the entity may not honor the terms of the contract or may attempt to renegotiate or alter the agreement. In such cases, the practitioner must remain firm and assertive, using the terms of the contract and their own magical authority to enforce compliance. If necessary, the practitioner should be prepared to banish the entity, using whatever means are appropriate to sever the connection and end the relationship.

Compounding Multiple Elements into a Single Spell

The principle of synergy in magical practices involves the interplay of various energetic elements to achieve a unified effect. This harmony arises when distinct components of a spell complement each other, creating a more potent and cohesive outcome. When diverse elements, such as symbols, actions, or materials, are combined, they interact in a manner that amplifies their collective influence. This can be likened to how a well-orchestrated symphony produces a richer auditory experience than individual instruments played in isolation.

The integration of various methodologies and components into a single spell demands a comprehensive understanding of their individual properties and how they interact. Multidisciplinary integration involves aligning disparate elements, each with its own specific energetic qualities and functions, into a singular operational framework. This process requires an adept grasp of how different magical practices, symbols, or rituals can be interwoven to create a cohesive spell structure.

The psychological and emotional states of the practitioner play a significant role in the efficacy of compounded spells. Emotional resonance and mental clarity can greatly influence how well different components coalesce. For instance, a practitioner’s emotional state might affect how well they can focus and channel their energies. Emotional intensity and psychological readiness can either enhance or hinder the integration of multiple spell elements, making the practitioner’s internal state a crucial factor in the spell’s success.

While harmony is often emphasized, the strategic use of dissonance can also be valuable. Dissonance between components can create dynamic tensions that drive change or transformation. For example, contrasting elements may interact in a way that generates a powerful catalytic effect. This can be seen in situations where opposing energies or conflicting symbols are used deliberately to provoke a desired outcome or to facilitate a significant shift. The key lies in understanding how to manage and direct these tensions to achieve a productive result.

Streamlining Elements into a Unified Conceptualization

A coherent magical framework is essential for the successful execution of a spell involving multiple elements. This framework serves as a blueprint, guiding how each component fits into the overall design. It involves outlining the purpose of each element, determining how they will interact, and establishing a clear sequence of actions. The goal is to ensure that all components work together harmoniously, with each part contributing to the intended outcome without causing conflicts or redundancies. Balancing diverse energies involves ensuring that the various components of a spell do not overshadow each other or cause imbalances. This requires a careful assessment of each element’s energetic properties and how they align with one another. Techniques such as adjustment of proportions, sequencing of actions, and modulation of intensity can help achieve this balance. The aim is to create a spell where the combined energies enhance each other, rather than compete or interfere with one another.

Conflicts and inconsistencies between spell components can undermine the spell’s effectiveness. Identifying and resolving these issues involves analyzing the potential sources of discord, such as conflicting symbolic meanings or contradictory energies. Practitioners must be adept at making adjustments, whether through reconfiguration of components or through the implementation of harmonizing techniques, to ensure that all elements work towards a common goal without causing detrimental effects.

The Benefits and Challenges of Complex Spellwork

Multi-element spells often exhibit enhanced effectiveness due to the combined potency of various components. Each element contributes its unique properties, potentially amplifying the overall impact. The precision of such spells can also be improved as different aspects address specific facets of the intended outcome, allowing for a more targeted approach. The use of multiple elements expands the scope of spellwork, allowing practitioners to address a wider range of issues or goals. This flexibility enables the adaptation of spells to different contexts or requirements, making them more versatile and applicable in diverse situations. By incorporating various techniques and materials, practitioners can tailor their spells to more precisely fit their needs.

One of the primary risks of complex spellwork is overcomplication, which can lead to energy dilution. When too many elements are incorporated without careful planning, the spell may become convoluted, with the energies becoming scattered rather than focused. This can result in diminished effectiveness or even failure of the spell.

The complexity of multi-element spells introduces a higher risk of unintended consequences. The interaction of various components can produce unexpected results, particularly if the energies are not properly balanced or if there are conflicts between elements. Practitioners must be vigilant in anticipating and managing these potential issues to avoid adverse outcomes.

Compounding multiple elements into a spell necessitates a high level of skill and knowledge. Practitioners must possess a deep understanding of each component’s properties and how they interact. This requires advanced training and experience, as well as the ability to manage complex energetic dynamics effectively.

Planning and Preparation

Each component of a spell possesses distinct properties and associations that influence its role within the spell. Assessing these properties involves understanding how each element contributes to the overall energetic structure. This includes evaluating the symbolic meanings, energetic qualities, and practical applications of each component.

Evaluating the purpose and alignment of spell components involves ensuring that each element serves the intended function and aligns with the overall goal. This includes assessing how components will interact with each other and how their properties contribute to the desired outcome. Consistency in purpose and alignment is crucial for achieving a coherent and effective spell.

Structuring a Multi-Faceted Spell

Developing a structured plan involves identifying and establishing the core components of the spell. These components form the foundation of the spell’s structure and include the primary elements that will drive its effectiveness. Each core component must be carefully selected based on its role and contribution to the overall goal.

The sequence and timing of spell components are critical to the spell’s success. Determining how and when each element will be introduced or activated ensures that the spell progresses in a coherent and orderly manner. Proper sequencing helps maintain focus and alignment, preventing disruptions or conflicts.

Integrating multiple techniques involves blending various magical systems or methodologies to create a unified approach. This may include combining different ritual practices, symbolic systems, or energetic techniques. The challenge lies in harmonizing these systems so that they complement rather than contradict each other.

Utilizing varied ritual actions involves incorporating diverse techniques and actions into the spell. This may include a combination of physical actions, verbal invocations, and mental focus. The goal is to create a dynamic and multi-faceted approach that enhances the spell’s effectiveness through diverse means.

Designing the ritual space and atmosphere involves creating an environment conducive to the spell’s success. This includes setting up physical space, arranging ritual tools, and establishing the desired ambiance. A well-designed ritual space supports the practitioner’s focus and facilitates the flow of energy.

Coordinating multiple ritual elements involves ensuring that all aspects of the ritual work together harmoniously. This includes synchronizing the timing, actions, and focus of each element to maintain a cohesive and effective ritual process. Coordination helps prevent disruptions and ensures that the spell’s components function in concert.

Execution and Follow-Up

Preparing the ritual space involves arranging the physical environment to support the spell’s execution. This includes setting up the ritual tools, creating a clean and organized space, and ensuring that the area is free from distractions or disruptions. The physical setup should reflect the nature of the spell and facilitate the practitioner’s focus and engagement.

Creating energetic boundaries involves establishing a protective and supportive field around the ritual space. This can be achieved through various methods, such as casting a circle, invoking protective forces, or using symbolic barriers. Energetic boundaries help contain the spell’s energies, prevent interference, and create a focused environment for the ritual.

Grounding and centering are preliminary rituals that prepare the practitioner for effective spellcasting. Grounding involves establishing a connection with the earth to draw stability and balance, while centering focuses on aligning the practitioner’s internal energies. These practices help the practitioner achieve a state of readiness, enhancing their ability to direct their energies and maintain focus during the spell.

Invoking protective and empowering forces involves calling upon energies or entities that support and safeguard the spell. This can include invoking deities, spirits, or elemental forces, depending on the practitioner’s tradition and preferences. The purpose is to create a supportive and secure environment that enhances the spell’s effectiveness and protects against potential negative influences.

Following the pre-defined sequence involves executing the spell according to the established plan and timing. This includes performing each action or step in the prescribed order to ensure that the energies and components interact as intended. Adhering to the sequence helps maintain the integrity of the spell and ensures that all elements contribute to the desired outcome.

Monitoring energy flow involves observing the dynamic interactions of the spell’s components and making any necessary adjustments. This may include adjusting the intensity, direction, or focus of the energies as needed. Being attuned to the flow of energy allows the practitioner to respond to any changes or issues that arise during the spellcasting process.

Observing immediate outcomes involves paying attention to any changes or reactions that occur as a result of the spell. This includes noting any shifts in energy, alterations in circumstances, or responses from individuals or entities involved. Recording these observations helps assess the initial impact of the spell and provides insights into its effectiveness.

Recording sensory and emotional responses involves documenting the practitioner’s experiences and feelings during and after the spell. This can provide valuable information about the spell’s impact and effectiveness. Sensory responses, such as changes in temperature or perception, as well as emotional reactions, can offer clues about the spell’s success and any adjustments that may be needed.

Analyzing Long-Term Effects

Analyzing long-term effects involves assessing the spell’s success in achieving its intended goals. This includes evaluating the overall impact, comparing the results with the desired outcomes, and determining whether the spell met its objectives. Long-term evaluation helps gauge the effectiveness of the spell and provides insights for future practices.

Identifying patterns and trends involves analyzing any recurring effects or outcomes that emerge over time. This can include observing consistent results, noting any trends in the spell’s effectiveness, or recognizing patterns in the response to different components. Identifying these patterns helps refine future spellwork and enhance overall efficacy.

Gathering feedback through self-reflection involves evaluating the practitioner’s own experiences and insights regarding the spell. This includes analyzing personal observations, feelings, and reactions to the spell’s outcomes. Self-reflection helps the practitioner understand their role in the spell’s success and identify areas for improvement.

Seeking external perspectives involves obtaining feedback from others who may have been involved in or observed the spell. This can include consulting with fellow practitioners, mentors, or individuals affected by the spell. External perspectives can provide additional insights and contribute to a more comprehensive understanding of the spell’s impact.

Adjusting and Refining Techniques for Future Spells

Analyzing challenges and failures involves reviewing any difficulties or shortcomings encountered during the spell. Identifying areas of improvement requires assessing what went wrong, understanding the causes of any issues, and determining how to address these problems in future practices. This process helps enhance the practitioner’s skills and refine their techniques.

Learning from mistakes and successes involves reflecting on both positive and negative outcomes to gain insights and knowledge. Understanding what contributed to the spell’s success or failure provides valuable lessons that can be applied to future spellwork. This continuous learning process helps improve the effectiveness of magical practices over time.

Refining methods and approaches involves updating ritual techniques based on the insights gained from previous experiences. This may include adjusting specific actions, modifying the sequence of steps, or incorporating new practices to enhance effectiveness. Regular updates and refinements ensure that the practitioner’s techniques remain relevant and effective.

Enhancing elemental integration involves improving how different components and energies are combined within a spell. This includes optimizing the alignment of various elements, refining the balance between them, and ensuring that they work together harmoniously. Enhanced integration leads to more effective and cohesive spellwork.

Keeping a magical journal involves documenting detailed records of each spell, including the components used, the process followed, and the outcomes observed. A well-maintained journal serves as a valuable resource for tracking progress, identifying trends, and making informed adjustments to future practices.

Revising ritual frameworks and techniques involves periodically reviewing and updating the methods and approaches used in spellwork. This includes making adjustments based on documented experiences, feedback, and new insights. Regular revisions ensure that the practitioner’s practices remain effective and aligned with their goals.

Troubleshooting and Refining Your Practice

In the practice of magic, encountering instances where desired outcomes are not achieved is a common occurrence. Analyzing these failures is crucial to improving one's craft. Several factors may contribute to the ineffectiveness of magical operations, and understanding these can provide pathways to enhancement.

One prevalent reason for the failure of magical workings is a misalignment between the practitioner's energy and the specific nature of the spell. This misalignment may arise from insufficient preparation or a lack of synchronization between the practitioner's focus and the intended outcome. For instance, if a practitioner’s mental state is fragmented or their energy is dispersed, the spell's efficacy may be compromised.

Another common issue is the improper use or placement of symbolic elements. In magical practices, the symbolic representation of objects plays a significant role. If the chosen symbols or materials are not appropriately connected to the intended effect, the spell's potency can be diminished. This misalignment could be due to a misunderstanding of the properties or significance of the objects used. Inadequate ritual structure is another factor that may contribute to unsuccessful magical operations. Rituals often involve complex steps that must be meticulously followed. Omitting or inaccurately performing key elements of the ritual can lead to a lack of coherence and, consequently, a failure to manifest the desired result.

Environmental factors also play a crucial role in the success of magical workings. Factors such as ambient energy, environmental disturbances, or conflicting energies can impede the effectiveness of a spell. Practitioners must consider these elements and ensure that their environment is conducive to their magical efforts.

Techniques for Diagnosing and Correcting Issues

To address the issues causing spell failures, practitioners can employ several diagnostic and corrective techniques. One effective method is to perform a thorough post-operation analysis. This involves reviewing each step of the spell, from preparation through execution, to identify any deviations or discrepancies. Reflecting on the process helps pinpoint areas that may need adjustment.

Another technique is to engage in self-assessment and introspection. Practitioners should evaluate their mental and emotional states during the spellcasting process. Ensuring that one’s focus is unwavering and that emotional disturbances are minimized can significantly impact the outcome. Techniques such as meditation or grounding exercises may help stabilize one's energy and enhance concentration. Additionally, reviewing and refining the use of symbolic elements is essential. Practitioners should reassess the significance of the objects and symbols used in the spell. Ensuring that these elements are correctly aligned with the intended outcome can enhance their efficacy. Adjustments might involve selecting different symbols or materials that more accurately represent the desired effect.

Environmental considerations are also crucial. Practitioners should assess the surroundings for any factors that might interfere with the spell, such as external noise or disruptions. Creating a controlled and harmonious environment can help mitigate these issues and support the spell's success.

Adjusting Your Techniques

Experience is a valuable teacher in magical practices. As practitioners accumulate knowledge and insights from their experiences, they should continuously adapt and refine their techniques. This iterative process involves adjusting methods based on observed results and integrating new understanding into practice.

Adapting techniques requires flexibility and openness to change. Practitioners should be willing to experiment with different approaches and adjust their rituals and methods accordingly. This may involve altering the components of a spell, modifying the ritual structure, or employing new techniques for energy manipulation. By experimenting and observing the outcomes, practitioners can discover more effective methods tailored to their individual practices.

Refining techniques also involves incorporating lessons learned from both successful and unsuccessful spells. Analyzing what worked well and what did not provides valuable insights for future practices. Practitioners should document their experiences and outcomes to build a comprehensive understanding of their methods and refine their approach over time.

Learning from successes and failures is integral to the development of magical proficiency. Successes provide valuable feedback on what elements and techniques were effective. Practitioners should analyze successful spells to identify the factors that contributed to their efficacy. This includes evaluating the preparation, execution, and symbolic elements involved. Failures, while often discouraging, offer equally important lessons. Analyzing unsuccessful spells helps practitioners understand what went wrong and what changes need to be made. It is crucial to approach failures with a constructive mindset, viewing them as opportunities for growth rather than setbacks. By examining the causes of failure and making necessary adjustments, practitioners can enhance their skills and increase the likelihood of future successes.

Building a Knowledge Base

Building a knowledge base involves gathering and synthesizing information from a variety of sources. Practitioners should engage in continuous learning to expand their understanding of magical principles and techniques. This can include studying historical practices, exploring different cultural approaches, and learning from contemporary sources. Practitioners may also benefit from developing a personal compendium of insights gained from their experiences. This may involve keeping detailed records of spells, rituals, and their outcomes. By reviewing and analyzing this compendium, practitioners can track their progress, identify patterns, and refine their methods.

Finding trusted mentors and seeking peer support can greatly enhance a practitioner’s development. Mentors, with their experience and expertise, can provide valuable guidance and feedback. They can help practitioners navigate challenges, refine techniques, and broaden their understanding of magical practices. Internet mentorships within the witchcraft community can present significant dangers, particularly the potential for predatory power structures. The anonymity and lack of accountability inherent in online interactions can enable manipulative individuals to exploit newcomers' vulnerabilities. These so-called mentors may position themselves as gatekeepers of esoteric knowledge, using their perceived authority to control, coerce, or even abuse those seeking guidance. Without the safeguards of face-to-face interactions and established communal oversight, it becomes challenging to discern the intentions of such mentors. Additionally, the rapid spread of misinformation and dogma, often presented as ancient wisdom, can lead to harmful practices and unhealthy dynamics. The power imbalance between a mentor and a mentee can foster dependency, stifling personal growth and autonomy. Thus, it is crucial for practitioners to approach online mentorships with caution, seek multiple perspectives, and prioritize their own discernment and well-being over blind adherence to any one figure's teachings.

Peer support is also beneficial. Engaging with a community of practitioners allows for the exchange of ideas, experiences, and insights. This collaborative environment fosters learning and growth, as practitioners can share their successes, failures, and techniques. Participation in discussions, workshops, and group practices can provide additional perspectives and support.

Books, online forums, and workshops are valuable resources for practitioners seeking to deepen their knowledge and refine their practices. Books offer in-depth exploration of magical principles, techniques, and historical contexts. They can provide a comprehensive foundation for understanding and practice. Online forums and communities provide platforms for discussion, exchange of ideas, and feedback. Practitioners can connect with others, ask questions, and share experiences. Engaging in these forums can provide practical advice, support, and alternative perspectives. Workshops and seminars offer opportunities for hands-on learning and direct instruction. It must also be said that written media, regardless of source is guaranteed to have some bias, mostly found throughout the publisher. Be sure to bear biases in mind when using books or online media as a reference and take active notes on it. Attending workshops allows practitioners to learn from experienced teachers, engage in practical exercises, and gain new insights. Workshops also facilitate networking and collaboration with other practitioners.

Maintaining Efficacy Standards

As practitioners progress to more advanced levels of spellcasting, maintaining high efficacy standards becomes increasingly important. Advanced spellcasting involves complex techniques, nuanced understanding of energy dynamics, and precise execution. Practitioners must ensure that their methods are refined and that they adhere to rigorous standards of practice. Considerations for advanced spellcasting include a deep understanding of the interplay between different magical components. Practitioners must be adept at manipulating various forms of energy and integrating them effectively. This requires not only technical skill but also a heightened level of awareness and control. Ethical considerations also play a significant role in advanced spellcasting. Practitioners must be mindful of the potential consequences of their actions and ensure that their practices are aligned with responsible and ethical standards. This includes respecting the autonomy of others, avoiding harmful effects, and practicing with integrity. Responsible and effective practice is fundamental to the success and integrity of magical work. Practitioners should approach their work with a sense of responsibility, ensuring that their actions are well-considered and that they respect the broader implications of their practices.

Effective practice involves maintaining clarity of purpose, rigorous preparation, and precise execution. Practitioners should continuously refine their techniques and strive for excellence in their work. This includes regularly reviewing and updating their methods, seeking feedback, and remaining open to learning and growth. Responsible practice also entails maintaining a balanced perspective and avoiding over-reliance on magical techniques. Practitioners should integrate their magical work with practical actions and consider the broader context in which they operate. This holistic approach ensures that magical practices are grounded in a comprehensive and ethical framework.

Expanding Your Magical Horizons

Expanding one's understanding of magic necessitates an examination of practices across a variety of cultures. To this end, conducting thorough research is essential. This involves immersing oneself in the historical and contemporary contexts of different traditions. Each culture offers a unique perspective on magical practices, reflecting its values, cosmology, and societal norms. Engaging with primary sources such as ancient texts, folklore, and anthropological studies provides a foundational understanding. Secondary sources, including academic papers and interpretations by contemporary scholars, further contextualize these practices.

Incorporating elements from diverse traditions involves more than superficial adoption. It requires a nuanced approach, respecting the integrity and origins of each practice. For instance, the integration of practices from Indigenous cultures necessitates an awareness of the cultural significance and historical context behind them. Misappropriation, where elements are taken out of context or used without understanding, can undermine the tradition and disrespect its practitioners. Effective integration involves adapting these practices in a manner that aligns with one's existing framework of magical practice. This means translating principles and techniques in ways that harmonize with one's own methodologies while honoring their original contexts. Practitioners must be attentive to the ethical dimensions of this integration, ensuring that their approach does not trivialize or commercialize sacred traditions.

Continuous Learning and Development

The field of magical practice is dynamic and constantly evolving. Staying informed about the latest developments is essential for maintaining a relevant and effective practice. This involves regularly reading recent publications, attending conferences, and participating in online forums or discussion groups. Keeping abreast of new research and discoveries allows practitioners to incorporate contemporary insights into their work. Innovations in magical theory, advancements in ritual techniques, and emerging cultural influences can all impact and enhance one’s practice. Engaging with current literature and scholarship ensures that one’s practice remains vibrant and responsive to new ideas. Additionally, staying updated involves critically evaluating new information and integrating it thoughtfully. Not every development will be applicable or beneficial, so discernment is necessary to determine which insights align with one's goals and methodologies. This ongoing evaluation helps in refining and evolving one's magical practice over time.

A commitment to lifelong learning is fundamental for continuous growth as a practitioner. This dedication involves embracing the idea that magical practice is an evolving journey rather than a static destination. Regularly setting aside time for study, reflection, and experimentation fosters ongoing development. Participating in advanced training, mentorship programs, or specialized courses can further enhance one's skills and knowledge. Seeking guidance from experienced practitioners and engaging in mentorship relationships provide opportunities for personalized growth and deeper understanding. Lifelong learning also entails cultivating an attitude of curiosity and openness. Exploring new areas of study, experimenting with unfamiliar techniques, and challenging one’s assumptions contribute to a richer and more nuanced practice. This proactive approach to learning ensures that one remains engaged and inspired throughout their magical journey.

Recording and Reflecting on Your Journey

Keeping a detailed journal is a valuable practice for documenting one's magical journey. A journal serves as a repository for insights, observations, and progress, providing a record of experiences and lessons learned. Regular entries can track the evolution of one’s practice, highlight successful techniques, and identify areas for improvement. Documenting rituals, spells, and magical work allows practitioners to analyze their effectiveness and make necessary adjustments. Notes on personal reactions, environmental factors, and outcomes contribute to a deeper understanding of how different elements influence magical practices. Over time, this accumulated knowledge can lead to more refined and effective approaches. Additionally, a magical journal can serve as a tool for reflection and growth. Reviewing past entries helps practitioners recognize patterns, assess their development, and set future goals. This reflective process enhances self-awareness and facilitates the ongoing refinement of one’s practice.

Reflection is a critical component of personal and professional growth in magical practice. Regularly assessing one’s experiences, successes, and challenges provides valuable insights into one’s progress and areas for development. This introspective process helps practitioners understand how their practices align with their goals and values. Evolving as a practitioner involves integrating these reflections into one’s ongoing work. This means adapting practices based on insights gained, experimenting with new techniques, and continually striving for improvement. Embracing change and flexibility ensures that one’s practice remains dynamic and responsive to personal growth.

Engaging in reflective practices also fosters a deeper connection with one’s magical work. By understanding the broader implications of their practices and their impact on personal development, practitioners can cultivate a more meaningful and purposeful approach to magic. This ongoing process of reflection and evolution is key to achieving long-term success and fulfillment in the magical arts.

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girlkisser13 · 3 months ago

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persephone cabin headcanons

children of persephone

• they’re always conceived in the spring or summer.

• in times of conflict, their presence alone can bring hope and peace to others, and they are often called upon to soothe agitated campers.

• SOO many flowers crowns.

• their powers shift with the seasons. in spring and summer, they possess fertility abilities, excelling at gardening and nurturing plant life.

• they help the apollo and dionysus cabins put on hadestown.

• during autumn and winter, they tap into their underworld connection, enabling them to see ghosts, cause tremors in the earth, rip souls away, shadow travel short distances, and occasionally curse others.

• they can summon the opposite set of powers out of season, but doing so requires a significant amount of energy and effort.

• like their mother, they have a dual personality— kind and nurturing one moment, but stern and unyielding the next.

• they’re basically the mom friend.

• they have a deep empathy for both life and death, understanding the cycles of nature and the importance of both joy and sorrow.

• this makes them great counselors and therapists.

• they have a deep respect for animals, especially deer, as it is their mother’s sacred animal, and they may see hunting as unnecessary or cruel.

• this respect extends to all wildlife, making them strong advocates for animal rights and conservation.

• their connection to the natural world make them instinctively protective of animals, leading them to actively work against activities that harm wildlife.

• they become involved in efforts to protect endangered species or restore damaged ecosystems.

• many of them engage in activism to protect wildlife and prevent hunting, using their abilities to create safe havens for animals and advocate for laws that protect them.

cabin exterior

• the cabin is adorned with intricate floral patterns and vines that seem to bloom and twist around the structure, reflecting persephone’s domain over flowers and the seasons.

• the exterior changes with the seasons— lush and vibrant during spring and summer, with blooming flowers and greenery, and transitioning to more barren and earthy tones during fall and winter.

• the cabin is painted in shades of emerald green and gold, symbolizing persephone’s connection to nature and the wealth of the underworld.

• a winding garden path leading up to the cabin is lined with a variety of flowers and plants that bloom in different colors, guided by magical enchantments to always be in full bloom.

• the structure is made of ancient, weathered stone with carvings of persephone’s symbols— like pomegranates, flowers, and butterflies— etched into the walls.

cabin interior

• like the demeter cabin, this cabin RADIATES cottage core energy.

• the cabin’s color scheme incorporates soft, earthy tones such as shades of green, gold, and pale pink, with accents of deep black and purple representing persephone's connection to the underworld.

• the walls are covered in murals and living vines that bloom with seasonal flowers like daisies, roses, and poppies. a canopy of intertwining branches drape across the ceiling, with small blossoms that glow softly in the dark.

• large windows let in plenty of natural light during the day, giving the space a warm and inviting atmosphere. at night, lanterns made of celestial bronze are enchanted to mimic the flicker of fireflies, providing a soft, ethereal glow.

• the furniture is made from natural materials like wood and stone. chairs and beds are carved with intricate designs of flowers, vines, and pomegranates. the cushions and bedding are plush and adorned with floral patterns.

• each member has their own area adorned with their favorite flowers or plants. there is also a small altar with offerings of pomegranates, flowers, and seeds, honoring their mother.

cabin traditions

• at the beginning of each spring, they participate in a special ritual to welcome the return of spring. this involves planting new flowers and trees around the camp, blessing the fields with good growth, and crafting flower crowns to wear throughout the day. this ritual symbolizes renewal, growth, and the reawakening of nature.

• they have a sweet tradition could involve exchanging flowers among cabin members as a sign of friendship, support, or goodwill. each type of flower has its own meaning, allowing members to communicate their feelings through these natural tokens.

• they have a special garden that they tend to throughout the year. this garden is filled with flowers and plants sacred to persephone, such as poppies, lilies, and pomegranates. they spend time together planting, weeding, and caring for this garden as a way to connect with their mother and each other.

• at important camp events or ceremonies, they create and wear intricate flower crowns. these crowns are crafted for themselves or as gifts for others, symbolizing the beauty and strength of nature.

• they also have a tradition of making a special crown for any camper who has achieved something significant, honoring their accomplishment.

divider by @strangergraphics

#percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #hoo fandom #pjo series #hoo series #pjo tv show #pjo disney+#pjo cabins #persephone #proserpina #persephone cabin #cabin twenty-five #cabin 25 #children of persephone

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idkyetxoxo · 14 days ago

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Tyland Lannister - A Dragon and a Lion

Summary - A relentless lion, pursues the princess with determination. Their flirtation reaches a peak during a charged moment, only to be interrupted by her uncle's reprimand. Despite this his persistence reignites their bond, hinting at deeper affection and the prospect of a shared future.

Pairing - Tyland Lannister x Targaryen reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2150

Masterlist for Tyland • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

Tyland Lannister was the epitome of regal intensity, embodying the majesty and fierceness of a lion when he pursued his desires. He was a man who knew exactly how to achieve his aims, and at this moment, his focus was firmly on me, the Targaryen princess.

It was no Herculean task for him. Over time, I had responded to his flirtatious advances and gentle insistence with a measure of interest, something that seemed to only fuel his determination.

His attention had become a dance of flirtation and charm, with each interaction building upon the last.

As he approached me in a secluded corner of the gardens, his fingers clutched a small box. The tranquil setting and the soft rustling of the leaves seemed to amplify the tension in the air. He looked both resolute and anxious, the weight of the moment evident in his demeanour.

"Princess," he greeted me with a voice as smooth as velvet. I smiled, extending my hand for him to kiss, a gesture that had become a familiar and anticipated ritual.

"Lord Tyland," I responded, meeting his gaze with a steady look that spoke of both curiosity and acknowledgement.

With a brief, knowing smile, he let go of my hand and withdrew his other arm from behind his back.

"I have a gift for you," he announced, his voice carrying a note of hopeful excitement. My eyes widened as I followed the movement of his hand.

Slowly, he revealed a piece of jewellery, a stunning gold necklace with an intricately designed lion pendant.

My breath caught in my throat. "This is beautiful," I said, reaching out to touch the golden lion. Its craftsmanship was exquisite, a true testament to the artistry of its creator.

"May I?" he asked, holding the necklace out with a hint of nervous anticipation. I nodded, moving my hair to one side as he positioned himself behind me.

I tilted my head slightly as he fastened the necklace around my neck, his fingers warm and tender against my skin. The contact was delicate, almost reverent, as he adjusted the chain with a careful precision. His touch lingered a moment longer than necessary, creating a palpable closeness.

As he finished, I moved my hair back into place, feeling the weight of the necklace settle comfortably against my skin. Tyland's presence was close, his breath gently grazing the nape of my neck as his hands rested lightly on my shoulders.

"You wear it well," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. His thumbs traced small, gentle circles on my shoulders, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Thank you," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel the heat of his body against my back, an intoxicating warmth that drew me in.

Tyland's hands slid down my arms slowly, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric of my dress. "I'm glad you like it. It suits you, Princess."

I turned slightly to look at him, our faces only inches apart. "You have a talent for choosing the perfect gifts."

He smiled, his eyes locked onto mine. "It's easy when the recipient is as inspiring as you."

The intimate moment was abruptly interrupted by a booming voice that seemed to slice through the serene ambience of the garden. "Princess, Lord Tyland."

We both flinched at the sudden intrusion. I turned to see my uncle, Daemon, emerging from the shadows, his expression a mix of disapproval and irritation. His presence was commanding, his gaze fixed intently on us.

"Uncle?" I questioned, a note of surprise in my voice. I hadn't expected to see him here, especially not at this moment.

Daemon's eyes moved to Tyland, his tone clipped and authoritative. "Lord Tyland, I believe your presence is required elsewhere, perhaps with the king."

Tyland's face reflected a brief moment of disappointment, but he masked it with a respectful bow. "Of course, my prince," he replied, his voice tinged with a note of restrained frustration.

As Tyland took his leave, his steps echoing softly against the cobblestones, I felt a pang of irritation rise within me. The disruption had been unwelcome, and the abruptness of Daemon's intervention stung more than I cared to admit.

I watched him go, feeling a mix of disappointment and anger.

I turned to my uncle, my voice barely concealing my frustration. "Uncle, was it really necessary to intrude like that?"

Daemon's eyes darkened his expression as cold and unforgiving as winter's chill. He stepped closer, the faint scent of smoke and dragonfire clinging to his clothes.

"You should be grateful it was only I who caught you in such a compromising position. Your behaviour was entirely inappropriate for someone of your status. It's disgraceful."

His words were laced with both venom and a protective edge, as though he saw me not as kin but as a reckless threat to everything we stood for.

My temper flared at his harsh words. "Disgraceful? We were just talking. How is that inappropriate?"

"You were not 'just talking,'" Daemon snapped, his eyes blazing. "You were allowing a man to touch you in a way that is unbecoming of a princess. Have you no sense of decorum?"

"Decorum?" I shot back, my voice rising. "And what about the way you conduct yourself? Are you the arbiter of what is proper now?"

"Do not deflect this onto me," Daemon warned, his tone dangerous. "This is about you and your reckless behaviour. You risk bringing shame to our house."

I took a step closer, my defiance unwavering. "And what if I care for Tyland? What if I want more than just to be a pawn in this court's games?"

Daemon's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening further. "Caring for someone does not absolve you of your duties. You have responsibilities that extend beyond your personal desires."

"And so do you," I countered, my voice steady. "But it seems you often forget that when it suits you."

A flicker of confusion crossed Daemon's face, quickly replaced by anger. "You tread on dangerous ground, niece. Be careful with your words."

I leaned in, my voice lowering to a sharp whisper. "And you should be careful with yours. I am not a child to be scolded. I know what I want and what I am doing."

"For your sake, I hope you do," Daemon replied, his voice cold. "Because if you falter, it will be more than just your reputation at stake."

"Is that a threat?" I asked, my eyes locked onto his.

"It's a warning," he said. "Do not take lightly the position you hold."

I felt a surge of defiance rise within me. "And what about you and Rhaenyra? You think your actions are beyond reproach?"

Daemon's eyes widened in surprise, his stern facade momentarily cracking. "What are you implying?"

I leaned in once more, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I know exactly what you and Rhaenyra have been up to. Your secret meetings, the whispers in the dark. You're no paragon of virtue, Uncle."

For a moment, Daemon seemed taken aback, his shock palpable. He struggled to maintain his composure, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for a suitable retort.

The accusation hung heavy in the air, shifting the balance of our confrontation.

Daemon's expression darkened, a mixture of anger and embarrassment flashing across his face. He straightened, forcing his voice to remain steady. "You are playing a dangerous game. Your actions and your words carry weight. Do not mistake my leniency for weakness."

I straightened, meeting his gaze with a steely resolve. "And do not mistake my silence for ignorance. I am aware of the realities of this court and the compromises that come with it."

Daemon's eyes narrowed, but he took a step back, his demeanour slightly less assured. "Just remember your place. The consequences of crossing boundaries can be severe, even if you think yourself protected."

With a final, penetrating look, Daemon turned on his heel and walked away, his footsteps echoing with a mix of frustration and reluctant acceptance.

The garden, once a sanctuary of soft exchanges and warm touches, now felt like a battleground of hidden agendas and veiled threats.

As I watched him go, the weight of our encounter lingered, a reminder of the precarious dance of power and propriety that defined our lives.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

A couple of days had slipped by, and as I wandered through the opulent corridors of the castle, lost in thoughts of the day's duties, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows. It was Tyland Lannister himself.

"Lord Tyland," I greeted, my voice carrying a note of genuine pleasure. His face lit up with a matching smile, the warmth of our previous encounter still evident in his eyes.

"Princess," he responded, his tone as smooth as silk. "I see you've been wearing my gift."

His gaze dropped to the necklace resting gracefully against my chest, the golden lion pendant catching the light and shimmering softly. The sight of it seemed to please him, a quiet pride evident in his smile.

"Indeed," I said, reaching up to lightly touch the necklace. "It has become one of my favourite pieces. You have an excellent eye for craftsmanship."

Tyland's eyes sparkled with a blend of satisfaction and amusement. "I'm glad to hear that. I had hoped it would be something you would cherish."

"More than cherish," I replied, my tone playful. "It reminds me of you, and I find that thought quite agreeable."

"Ah," he said, leaning in slightly, his voice taking on a teasing lilt. "Then perhaps it serves its purpose even better than I intended. I hoped it might inspire more than just admiration."

I laughed softly, the sound echoing lightly through the corridor. "And what exactly were you hoping to inspire?"

Tyland's smile widened, and he leaned in further, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Perhaps a bit of affection, or at the very least, a distraction from the monotony of court life."

"Affection, you say?" I tilted my head, studying him with a mischievous glint in my eyes. "And how far would you go to seek such affection?"

"As far as necessary," he replied with a grin, his eyes twinkling with playful intent. "I am nothing if not persistent."

"You certainly are," I teased, stepping closer so that only a breath separated us. "But persistence alone may not win what you seek."

Tyland chuckled a rich sound that resonated in the quiet hallway. "Then perhaps I should employ a bit of charm to aid my cause?"

I raised an eyebrow, my expression one of amused scepticism. "Charm, Lord Tyland? Are you not already employing that in abundance?"

"One can never be too charming," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in. "Especially when the stakes are so high."

"And what are these high stakes you speak of?" I asked, playing along with the flirtatious banter.

"Winning your favour, Princess," he replied earnestly, his gaze locking onto mine. "It is a prize worth every effort."

I paused suddenly, causing him to stop in his tracks. A look of panic crossed his features, his confidence wavering. "Princess, if I have overstepped—"

"Tyland," I interrupted, my voice steady. "I am no child. I am fully aware of your persistence. If it is permission you seek, then you have it."

His shoulders relaxed visibly, a sigh of relief escaping him. "So, I will not be overstepping if I vie for your hand in marriage?"

I shook my head, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Not at all. Though, such matters require more than just our mutual consent."

Emboldened, Tyland took a step closer, his voice a soft murmur. "Then may I ask for something simpler, yet just as meaningful? A kiss?"

I raised an eyebrow, my expression a blend of amusement and challenge. "Before marriage? That is quite bold of you, Lord Tyland."

He cowered slightly, realizing the impropriety of his request. "Forgive me, I did not mean to—"

I silenced him with a gentle touch on his arm, a smile spreading across my face. "But boldness is a trait I admire." Leaning in, I placed a soft kiss on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against my lips.

Tyland's eyes closed briefly, savouring the moment, and when he opened them again, they were filled with a mix of gratitude and affection. "Thank you, Princess. You honour me."

We continued walking, our steps light and our conversation flowing effortlessly. The gentle murmur of our voices mingled with the distant sounds of the castle, creating an intimate bubble around us.

As we reached the entrance to the library, Tyland paused, his hand lightly brushing against mine.

"It has been a pleasure, Princess," he said, his voice sincere. "I hope we have many more moments like this."

I smiled, the warmth of his words lingering. "As do I. Your company is always welcome."

With a final, lingering look, he bowed slightly and turned to leave. I watched him go, a sense of anticipation and excitement bubbling within me. The promise of more shared moments and deepening connection hung in the air, filling me with a newfound sense of possibility.

A/n - She kinda gagged Daemon x

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd one shot #hotd season 2 #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd s2 #team green #tyland lannister #tyland x reader #tyland lannister x reader #house lannister #lannister x reader

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y-rhywbeth2 · 5 months ago

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I don't know if material has ever gone into this (quite possibly) but since sorcerers are described as learning spells by intuition and fucking around and finding out I like to imagine that the spell components are just whatever they make up. The components for casting fireball could just be pointing at some annoying bastard with the hand that's holding a pinch of something flammable or symbolically related to fire in the sorcerer's mind and yelling 'fuck you.' The somatic component to raise dead is just clicking your fingers and ten skeletons rise from the grave at command. Due to charisma being your spellcasting ability you have to do it with confidence and style to work. The spell list is just little rituals you make up by yourself to shape your magic.

Wizards of course are using intricate philosophy and formulae and fancy archaic chants and symbols that have been tried and tested and are built upon many generations of spell work, often exposed to harsh scrutiny and critique by the academic community.

Nobody agrees which approach is more stylish, and then there are probably sorcerers who also do the philosophy and fancy chanting and symbols; the difference is that it just works because they think it should rather than because of any other structured logistics and a trained wizard will hit them with a grimoire if they act like it's anywhere near the same thing as understanding how this shit works.

#Wizards understand magic #Sorcerers just wing it #babbling

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 6 months ago

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New World (8)

Itachi Uchiha x Reader Fluff

Summary: The world War has met its end and Itachi has returned to his village. He questions whether he should set down his roots here when he meets a stranger. Or rather, a stranger is forced upon him by fate.

Warnings: horny babygirls

Word Count: Your girls got horny writing this. I can't remember the last time I gushed like this. ALso Every fanfic reader/writers nightmare in one chapter

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"What the hell is this?" You whisper to yourself, standing alone in the dressing room with the most intricate Sakura painting on the paper walls, lit up by the lanterns kept in two corners. The night robe you have been given has too much flare. The fabric of the red night dress is soft to the touch and breathable. But the robe that comes over it has practically been doused in fur not letting any cold air pass through. But the reason behind your cussing has less to do with that warm robe than with the fact that your underwear is nowhere to be seen. The night dress does run down to your knees but the thought of not being in your panties and having to sleep in the enemy territory for the night makes you uncomfortable. Not to mention the constant dreadful feeling of being watched by Toge from some corner of this village. With one stretched sigh, you leave the dressing room. The bedroom awaits you with a bed decorated with the local pink rose petals and towel swans.

A little thread inside you snaps on inhaling the overpowering smell of the roses and incense. You stomp to the corner of the bed, take the white bedsheet, pull out all four corners to wrap the roses inside them and throw them outside the huge window overlooking the village before closing it shut.

Just once you want to take an easy breath on this mission. Just once. And that too seems hard to get. Especially with him around, your inner voice whispers. You do not want your thoughts to go that way, but this little devil inside you smirks and struts towards some extraordinarily shady corners in your mind. Quiet, you tell your inner voice, he makes me feel safe, shushing it as if it has spoken something outrageous. Safe enough for you to imagine yourself all over his skin. She whispers the last few words with a stressed honey-filled whisper of a moan. And with that, that image of his naked torso in the hot springs flashes in front of your eyes. Your teeth involuntarily biting down on your lips to get a hold of the reality before those outrageously defined thoughts go too far. The sliding of your bedroom door jolts you awake from your fantasy world and makes you turn around to see the familiar tall figure bow down a little to enter the room without hitting his head on the door frame.

"I brought blankets," Itachi declares with the heavy elk fur blankets looking like they weigh nothing to the man. Itachi is wearing a black fur robe which appears to be his night gown. His chest is bare and so are his ankles. His hair is loose and wet from a fresh wash and you are starting to regret having dark back alleys in your mind. The room now starts to feel small in his presence; a presence which feels positively heavy. Keeping the blankets on the bed, he moves his hand to run back those wet strands away from his face. "I feel like we should ask the village Chief to hold their...uh...ritual...ceremony...what all they call it...today-tonight. Right now." Your staggered voice is not helping your case as your eyes run up from his elbows to his arms, drawing some sketchy scenes inside your head. "Do not push yourself, Y/N-san. You need to rest." It's not your fault. It's not your fault. A voice keeps repeating that inside your head. It's the way he says your name. You do not realise when your body is flushed, sweat droplets form at your temples and the back of your neck. Itachi pauses momentarily beside the bed while you blink blankly at him. He looks at you for a second before moving again. "Let me check for any traps in the room." You nod and press yourself close to the window and out of his way. As he takes careful feline steps along the length of the room, your eyes focus on his fingers brushing against the oakwood dresser kept by the wall, your throat takes an unpreventable gulp. The source of light in this room is the oil lamps burning in the corners to give this room a pinkish hue, thanks to the Sakura theme. The only light brighter than that is the golden hues of the bonfire lit on the temple grounds across the hill. He touches the wall to discover anything unusual, his steps bringing him closer to you. His dominant hand wraps itself around the jug of alcohol to raise it closer to his face and your eyes cannot help but follow the nimble pale fingers morphing into an abstract art of popping veins down the wrist. His lips touch the jug, taking in a sip that glides down his throat. The soft golden fiery hues lighting up his features just enough in the dark are not helping your conscience in her dark alley. At all. His brows furrow momentarily, making you wonder if something is wrong with the drink. And the next second he is choking on it, his hand nearly slipping the jug and a decent bit of that alcohol spilling on his robe.

"Itachi-san! Are you okay?" You quickly grab the hand towels on the dresser behind you and dash towards him; that is what you think you do till his hand rises to make you pause right where you have been standing. Itachi coughs a bit before clearing his throat. His back straightens up and he nods. "I'm fine. The drink is...well, I've tasted better." Of course, you have. You still stand in your spot, but your hand stretches to hand him a towel. He takes it to wipe his mouth before his wet robe takes up his attention. A huge sigh leaves his lungs. "Pardon me," he declares in a low hum as his fingers undo the knot on his robe and his shoulders flex themselves to let the fabric glide off his back. Your breath is caught in your throat till you realise he is wearing white trousers underneath. Itachi folds the fabric when something catches his eye. Watching him step away from you and towards the bed sinks your heart. He stops at the edge of the bed and gets on his knees. Itachi wastes no time being on all fours and crawling just a few inches underneath the space, looking for something. On the other hand, you are glaring at his other arm that acts as his anchor, his robe between his fingers; the fingers gripping the fabric till he has found what he is looking for. And when he comes back to sit on his knees, you exhale a little, grabbing onto the window sill as your legs cross over each other and you try your best to look away from the pink-shaded abs teasing you from the distance. His hand has brought out a red cloth from underneath the bed. The cloth shines with a silken finish in his hands as he twists the fabric in one hand, wrapping it up neatly. "Don't touch this," he announces, tucking the fabric in his trouser's back pocket. "Yes, sir," you whisper without realising. And immediately regretting it. Itachi must have not heard it, for he gets up and walks past you to the other side of the room, leaving you to ravel in his natural redolence. The lone table at the other end of the room is graced by his hands on either side, curious if it can be pulled away from the wall. His arms are flexing, and so are the muscles on his back as he tries to pull the table towards him, his hips feeling the tethered force of the measle piece of furniture, forcing a low grunt to escape. Your left hand is clawing its nails into the window frame while your right thumb is being bit under your teeth with all your might. Get out of that alley, you are panting at your conscience. Please. Please. Please! The table is torn from the wall and thrown into the paper wall covering the dressing room. The remaining wood in the indents of the wall reveals two black bricks. The former assassin quickly picks one in each hand and turns to walk towards you. "Open the window," he commands in a low tone. You religiously move your hands to open the latches. Even before you are done pushing the window frames out, you feel his arms come over from behind you and throw out the bricks from either side. You turn around, calculating the proximity between you and his chest. While he is busy frowning out the window at what was possibly an attempt to poison you two, your eyes go up to land on his jaw, studying the skin, the texture, the turns; a little too well. The sound of splintering wood brings you out of the trance. Itachi's bare hands have broken the frame of the window behind you and instead of tending to the wound where a splinter has gashed through the skin of his hand, he is looking at you with the intensity of a thousand suns. Only this time you are concentrating on his wound. "You're hurt-" "I need to go," Itachi declares, taking the ripped frame with him and walking out of the door, leaving you confused. Lustful and confused.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

"You go in. I'll survey the surroundings here," Kakashi announces, disappearing into the night before Itachi can say anything about being handed the elk fur blankets. You are the only person present in the wing at this moment and he has his senses on high alert. Higher than usual. I do not trust the men here, he justifies in his internal monologue, pausing his quiet steps outside the door as he is flashed with memories of his bare chest in the hot springs. His mind has paused all the calculations now. It is purely curious now. And with that intention, he enters the room, declaring his presence. Keeping the blankets on the bed, he moves his wet hair away from his face to appear a little decent in front of you. "I feel like we should ask the village Chief to hold their...uh...ritual...ceremony...what all they call it...today-tonight. Right now."

He can hear you. Loud and clear. But his mind is showing him his exposed arm pressing onto a thigh. He pauses. Must be some third-grade trickery by the village assassins, he thinks to himself. "Do not push yourself, Y/N-san. You need to rest." It's not your fault, he can hear the words being whispered somewhere. It's not your fault, they are echoing. With a voice too familiar to him these days. It's the way he says your name. It's you. It's your voice. And accompanied by your voice are flashes of sweat droplets running down from your temples, travelling your jaw to hurry down your neck. Itachi pauses, questioning how you are doing that. You are not, he answers the question himself and looks at you for a second to grasp any traces of Gen Jutsu around you. "Let me check for any traps in the room," he announces before moving to the nearest wall. When he brushes his fingers against the oakwood dresser, the flash comes again. This time, not as hazy as before. His fingers seem to be running over a bare abdomen, creating ripples of goosebumps. This time he can feel the skin under his fingertips and a familiar aroma in his nostrils. He moves his hand away from the table to the wall, investigating for anything out of the ordinary; that is, apart from the twisted psych attacks- if one can call them that. He can hear your heart beat faster as the distance between you closes. He pauses at the table between you two, reaching for the jug of alcohol kept on the table. The flashes come again when he raises the jug to his mouth. This time, his hand is gripping a neck, bringing it closer to him. He can smell that aroma again, this time the touch is heated and the neck is flushed. And his lips- which were reaching for the alcohol mere seconds ago- are kissing yours. When the kiss has deepened to the point of you moaning and his tongue wanting to taste your mouth, he realises the twisted reality, surprising himself into choking on the drink and spilling some onto his robe.

He hears you worry, making him raise his hand to stop you from coming any closer. "I'm fine," he coughs, apologising for his ungentlemanly behaviour. He takes the towel you offer, not able to get that image out of his mind. Itachi's instincts are riled up, his mind working ten steps ahead, ready to test the waters all the while making sure he does not cross any lines. He begs your pardon as he gets out of the wet robe. There is that aroma again. Your scent. Covering him all over. If it's the scent then there has to be- His thoughts trail off as he finally finds what he is looking for. He walks to the side of the bed and gets on his knees, to reach for the red fabric resting under the bed space. The talisman. Just when he grabs it, flashes of him gripping the silk sheets on the bed run through his mind. But that is not all. He can see his naked back clear as day, even that moles, and he can see you laying between him and the sheets looking up at him with a want. He is panting for breaths, and so are you. He can feel the drops of sweat run down his chest while he is devouring the view of your breasts glistening. Even as he comes back to sit on his knees, he can feel his hand run the length of your thighs, with your legs wrapped around his waist. The flash disappears, but the sensations remain in his mind. He seems to know what is going on but does not say. His hands work on folding the fabric and keeping it somewhere away from you. "Don't touch this," he declares as he puts the fabric in his pocket. "Yes sir," he can hear the microscopic stagger of your heated exhale in that whisper and the fog of that flash bring the sensation of a hand run over his butt. His mind curses. He does not remember the last time he cursed like this. Or that last time he felt so...filthy. But rip it in the bud, he grows internally to himself before getting up and walking to the last place that seemed suspicious- the table lodged into the wall on the other side of the room. He grabs the edges on either side to move it away from the wall, wanting the flashes to stop. To stop or else... The frustration shows externally when a grunt escapes him at the failed pull. And so it comes again.

This time you are on the table, your legs wrapped around his waist and your nails digging into his back. His flawless butt is exposed to the room as it jiggles with him sloppily rutting into you with the familiar grunts, bringing periodic coarse moans out of you. Please. He hears your voice. And he can see your face. He can see your body moving every time he pushes into you. Your eyes are tearing up. Your mouth is open wide at the edge of pleasure. Please, you beg again, this time urgently. Itachi feels his pace rush as if his body is running on your commands. Please! That moan of yours is turning into a growl as your head falls back at the peak of your climax. And before he can reach his, the table is torn away from the wall to be thrown away, bringing him back to his reality. And there they are, resting in the nook hidden in the wall- black brick-shaped gemstones. They are still hot when Itachi grabs them and orders you to open the window. Just as your hands have pushed the panes away, he throws the stones out, down the hill. He only breathes once he has heard them crash into pieces against the rocks underneath, resting one hand on the window frame. But they come again. This time with the touch of your fingers on his jaw, lazily running down his neck before he feels your teeth dig into his skin right where his jaw meets his neck. He snaps. At least that is what he thinks he did. It is the window frame that has been snapped instead. And all he can do is look at you; your eyes with no unadulterated intentions behind them as they worry about the blood that is not yours. "I need to go." He knows if he stays a second longer, he might do something there will be no coming back from. Rushing out the door bare-chested, he is already running into Kakashi in the corridor. For the first time in his life, Itachi seems the situation- that heavily involves him- requires an explanation. "There's-" "Geisha's Opals inside? From the smell I could guess there were two stones." Kakashi seems to have figured it out. "I waking the chief up to prepare the ritual." Itachi nods. He wants to say something more but all he can do is inhale a lungful. "She doesn't realise her thoughts are more graphic than the latest volume of my favourite Icha Icha Paradise novels," Kakashi exhales, visibly tired. "You could see them-" "The burned Opals along with a rose incense are powerful aphrodisiacs," Kakashi explains with his hands as if he was having a casual conversation with his colleague, "combine that with her empath skills, she created an atomic flash of...well..." he gestures vaguely at everything and then at Itachi. "Dress up, let's just get this over with," Kakashi admits before disappearing into the night again, leaving Itachi to make peace with the fact that the Konoha village's Silver Fang saw everything. Every. Single. Flash.

#itachi uchiha #itachi x reader #itachi x oc #itachi x you #itachi smut #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi fluff #Maladaptive Ninja

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