#prayers and spells welcome

[geopsych]

As a result of the drought there's a big fire on a section of the ridge between where I live and the lake. Wonderful people are doing what they can to stop it but the woods are like dried tinder right now and it's spreading like, well, you know. The ridge runs for hundreds of miles and is full of all kinds of wildlife plus some people have homes on it. Hoping against hope that this thing can be stopped before the whole length of the ridge catches fire like a burning wick.

[crescenthistory]

Hello, I love your writing and recently I’ve been kind of obsessed with Regulus calling reader Amour, so my request would be Regulus x fem!reader where he calls her Amour like a prayer or a mantra while reader kisses his neck, jaw, lips, just loving him. Thank you for your work !

i always write french!black brothers, so regulus will always use the pet name amour for reader in my fics ✊ thank you for requesting babe<3

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: suggestive/steamy (18+, mdni), heavy make-out session, grinding, suggestive remarks, but no actual smut, gn!reader, domestic bliss, established relationship, inappropriate use of the french language, regulus' slutty waist, tooth-rotting fluff

His fingertips trailed up and down the length of your arm tantalisingly; a barely there touch, a brush spelling out the casual love simmering beneath the surface.

With closed eyes you let out a content sigh, leaning further back into the soft cushions of your sofa.

"Alright, amour?"

You could hear the smile in his voice and lolled your head sideways to open your eyes and see it for yourself. Regulus sat comfortably beside you in your shared living room, eyes still trained on the flimsy paperback he had in hand. You both abandoned any professional work you had to get done earlier, and opted for settling into the quiet comfort of the evening, enjoying the radiating warmth and affection from the person beside you.

"Can't think of any complaints right now, no." His eyes flitted up to find the teasing in your own, and let out a small entertained sound.

"No?" Regulus placed his paperback upside down on the armrest, so that he could angle his body more sideways towards you. He already had one arm around your shoulders where he grazed you absentmindedly, but now he placed a purposeful hand on your thigh and squeezed. "What a miracle that is."

"I'll have you know, I am perfectly agreeable," you quipped back, leaning into his touch.

Regulus' eyes flitted slowly between your own as the smile on his face grew steadier. It felt impeccably at home. "You're perfect, alright." His low voice rumbled slightly in his chest on the way out and felt like a soft touch against your eardrums. You sighed again, seemingly melting into him – he readily accepted your weight.

"Not what I meant," you whispered. A steadying hand placed on his shoulder as you mirrored his slow creeping towards you, faces gravitating closer.

"It's what I meant."

The fingertips that had mapped out your arm made their final journey upwards, continuing past your shoulder and grazing a sweet path up to the underside of your chin. With two fingers, he encouraged your chin forward the last few centimetres until your lips met his and you could taste his tranquil smile.

Soft lips meeting each other in greeting for the first time in an hour or two, a coming home of sorts despite having been bundled up beside each other the whole time. Regulus' fingers moved back to splay out across your jaw, settling his pinky on your neck and his middle finger in that lovely spot behind your ear. His grip was firm but still delicate, holding you with conviction and care all at the same time. It brought a smile back to your face as you thought of how his kisses were much the same.

"What's so funny, beautiful?" he murmured against your lips, swallowing your answer before you could give it as he captured your bottom lip between his own.

You fought a giggle at his antics, instead breathing out through your nose and welcoming his continued touches. Your own hands travelled up from his shoulders to his hair, brushing through it and playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. His lips moved leisurely against yours, slightly open-mouthed and sweet.

When you came apart, you kissed his upper lip gently, revelling in the sigh he let out of his own, foreheads pressed together. "I just love you," you whispered.

All at once, the distance between the two of you felt overwhelmingly too large and your body ached to feel his warmth, his touch. You let your arms cross behind his neck, gripping onto his shoulders and pressing your chests flush against each other, while easing one leg out from beneath you to climb onto his lap. Regulus, who had just smiled lovingly at you, let one arm come to hold your hip and help stabilise you as you straddled him, inching as close to him as physically possible. "You love me, hm?" His eyes surveyed yours with a playful undertone.

Once you were settled comfortably in his lap, you nudged your nose into his, humming at the contact. "Allegedly," you said conspiratorially to which he gave a faux gasp.

You were quick to capture that gasp with your mouth.

If the first kiss was two lovers reuniting on the sofa they had been studying on together, then this kiss was a declaration of persevering devotion, a prayer whispered into the embrace of each other. This was deeper, both physically and emotionally as you took advantage of his parted lips to slip your tongue past them, meeting his own with a hum reverberating through you. Regulus groaned in turn, wrapping his arms tightly around your back to pull you even closer, fingers splaying out wide. His back came slightly off the cushions as he leaned against you, chasing your lips with every slight parting, and you couldn’t help the slight giggle that escaped your throat when you noticed.

“You’re acting like you’ve missed me,” you whispered as you parted from the fervent kiss to pepper smaller, lighter ones across his face as you caught your breath. 

“I always miss you, amour.” You glanced at him to see that his eyes had drifted shut for a moment, relishing in your doting affection pressed into every available crevice on his face, paying particular attention to the freckles splattered on top of his cheekbones and temples.

“That simply won’t do.” 

Your heart sang as you found his lips once more, only to find him instantly fighting to deepen the kiss, to have you impossibly more intertwined with him, one hand at last tangling in your hair to angle your head just the way he liked. You took the opportunity to let your own touches travel, dragging your fingertips teasingly down his neck and stroking across his shoulders clad in his sensible jumper. “Mind if this comes off?” you murmured in between open-mouthed kisses, tugging on his collar. 

Regulus wasted no time pulling away and dragging his jumper over his head, revealing his black skin-tight cropped tanktop beneath, though not without lifting a teasing eyebrow in reference to your intentions – which only went higher into his curly hair when he saw how your eyes took in his exposed collarbones and lower midriff. A truly sinful pair of hips on this one.

“Seems like someone’s missed me too,” he said smugly, all the while grasping a handful of the hair at the nape of your neck while dragging your face back towards his. “C’mere, pretty.”

With very little desire in your body to resist his kisses when he looked so domestic and blissed out, you abandoned your marveling of the boy beneath your hands to kiss him even more passionately. Your hands clutched at his jaw for stability when he dragged you back to him, but as soon as you were melting against his measured, satisfied kisses, you let them travel once more.

Your fingertips ghosted across his collarbones, one hand stopping to splay out across his heart and press down firmly enough for Regulus to sigh against you. The other found the v-shape on his hips, tracing them up and down, fingers occasionally hooking into the waistband of his trousers teasingly, a thrill shooting through you at the low groan that escaped him whenever you did.

“Gods, I just love you.” You whispered it against his lips, moving your hands all over his upper body as if you could not get enough; you decidedly could not and knew right there and then that if you were to die in his arms now, it would have been a happy death. “So much.”

“I love you, amour.” His voice was gravelly and breathless, coming apart even beneath such light touches – witnessing the effect you had on him never once ceased to amaze you. 

When you let your lips diverge from his own this time, you did not simply part for breath, instead trailing paths across his skin with the same attention and vigour you had given to his beautiful mouth. He let out a sigh, letting you have your way with him and shower him in the affection that seemed to be painfully bursting out of you, hands settling firmly on your hips to keep you close. “I love it when you call me that.” You pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth before letting your tongue dart out to kiss at the curve of his jaw, making your way to his ear, no skin going untouched, unloved.

“Call you what? Amour?” His breath stuttered throughout his question. You merely hummed in approval as you kissed the divot at the end of his jaw, feeling his chest rattle as you did so. “I always call you that.” Beneath your lips and fingertips trailing the other side of his face, you could feel his skin moving with the tell-tale signs of his growing smile.

“And I always love it,” you whispered into his ear before catching his earlobe between your teeth. The slight hiss and groan that followed sent sparks through you, and you tugged at his ear with your bite, tasting the metal of his piercings on your tongue. 

“Amour,” he moaned then, and you would be remiss if you did not let one of your hands keep exploring further down, spurred on by his term of endearment for you.

As you moved down the right side of his throat, you kissed and lapped and bit, easily forming evidence of your love across his pale, shimmery skin. The contrast always settled happily in your stomach when you looked at it, purple on white, you on Regulus.

Your hand that had held the other side of his face slid into his hair, grasping a handful at the nape of his neck and using it to pull his head further to the left, allowing you greater access. Once more, Regulus let out a moan at the slight sting and you knew it was on purpose when he whispered another hoarse, “Amour.”

You hummed in appraisal against his throat as you kissed, feeling the vibrations move through him. Your free hand kept toying with his waistband, slipping your fingers just far enough beneath to cause his breath to catch, but never truly doing anything, instead enjoying having your love all to yourself and accepting of the doting you ached to give him. It had been a long journey to accept any form of affection, let alone worship, so now that you had him freely all to yourself, you never passed up the opportunity.

With your hand in his hair, you pulled his head further back, granting you better access to his throat and chest, pressing a soft kiss to where his throat was bobbing as he swallowed at your ministrations. You kissed your way down to the dip between his neck and shoulder, where you gave him a particularly rough lovebite. His hands on your hips jerked towards him, essentially dragging your core across his, eliciting groans from the both of you. “Oh, amour,” he whispered, looking down at you with husky bedroom eyes.

You let your tongue lap over your bite, kissing across his prominent collarbones instead, trailing them up and down with a feverish tongue. With your hand in his waistband, you slipped around to his backside, dipping the rest of your hand in to get a handful of his ass. You used the momentum of his hips bucking upwards to grind yourself down against him, smiling through your kisses at the lovely sounds he was making.

“Amour, amour, amour.” Regulus was chanting your term of endearment as if it was a prayer, a mantra to get you to continue; and you would never deny him anything he asked for. You continued rolling your hips back and forth on top of his, heat pooling in your stomach as you felt him twitch and jerk beneath you. You moved your hand from his hair to settle onto his chest for leverage, palm pushing firmly into his left nipple as your nails buried their way into his skin through his sheer tanktop. All the while you were kissing across his collarbones, nipping and then soothing the skin immediately with your tongue, leaving saliva-covered bruises in your wake. 

“You’re so good for me, my love,” you whispered into the dent between his collarbones, and he let out a sound that seemed to be the mix of a breathless laugh and a sullen moan.

“Told you I missed you,” he managed to quip out, breath hitching once more as you repositioned yourself slightly to roll your core directly against his, only separated by thin fabrics of clothing. “Comment pourrais-je ne pas le faire, alors que tu m'aimes tant?”

Your turn to groan as you leaned your forehead against his slightly slick skin. “Just love you,” you mumbled once more before continuing your attack on his lovely body.

With trembling fingers, Regulus slipped a hand across your cheek and into your hair, encouraging you to let go of the skin right above his tanktop – which you had half a mind to remove, if it didn’t accentuate his waist so beautifully – and brought your face back up to his.

The grin you were met with left nothing to the imagination as to what he was feeling, physically or emotionally. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled your face closer and closer until your lips were hovering millimetres above his own that were tilted to the side, ready to accept you in full. “Me laisserais-tu t'avoir, mon amour?”

You shuddered and tried to close the distance between you, but Regulus had regained some control as he regarded you with nothing short of marvel, and he held your head in place. “Hm?” he questioned then, teasing aligned in his eyes.

“I don’t know what you said,” you all but whined, in a quieter voice than you thought possible. Normally, you might have made some quip about it, but at the moment you were pure putty in his hands.

“I said,” he whispered, using his grip on the back of your head to tilt your head to the side, until it was the shell of your ear grazing his lips and not your own. “Would you let me have you, my love?”

Shivers ran down your spine at his tone, your hands clutching him harder, closer, wanting always to get closer. When he turned your head to meet his eyes once more, his pupils had nearly eclipsed the grey irises you loved so much.

His smile was somehow both devilish and soft at the same time as he took in how breathless he could make you with just a few words.

“Please.”

No sooner had you uttered the word before his lips were back on yours, hungry and loving, his hands moving to your ass to hoist you up into the air and carry you against him to your shared bedroom.

The perfect night of domestic bliss.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Reader looking to the old gods for guidance, thinking it’s harmless to offer a prayer. She doesn’t know that eldritch!König hears every soft word and plea.

You needed an escape. A reprieve, if anything - something, anything, whatever the cruel world had to offer you. There wasn't a point in trying to cry for conventional gods, they didn't give you anything but creeping anxiety. There wasn't a point in trying to ask for help from your community, the one who had shunned you away. So, you try unconventional methods. Old books, spells, wild rituals, and pig blood on the sunrise. By the time you learned that sea shells are much better as a sacrifice than human blood, you were already desperate to the point of just jumping into the sea. You just didn't know you'd be welcomed in a firm embrace once you did. Konig hasn't seen a follower this cute in a long time - or, maybe, ever. His cult was never the one for beauty, it was always about the cruel practicality of power. Evil men and women seeking refuge in the cold embrace of an old god - no one else had enough resources to spit on the conventions of the mortal world. No one cared quite enough, and no one liked to torture humans quite as much as Konig did... but he didn't exactly want to torture you. An old god like him doesn't even need human sacrifices anymore - it's too little of a price and wouldn't even make him look in a person's direction. No - he needed something bigger, something more interesting. Your feeble ambitions aren't that interesting for him either, but your humble body is, on the other hand... An eldritch being like him doesn't really have need of the flesh, but he can't help but nurture his affection and press his body closer and squirm his tentacles all over you. You were prepared for a possible assault while working with the demonic beings - some of them like to take bodies for a price, as you have read - but you weren't prepared for an old god exploring your body like a curious teenager. His tendrils coil around your nipples, tugging and squeezing, making you whimper from something dangerously edging on pleasure - and making the hot feeling you notice under your hip that much more terrifying. He doesn't ask for your name - not because he already knows it or because he doesn't care about it, but because he intends to give you his by the end of the night. You knew that a deal with an eldritch god would be a terrible, horrible, absolutely unthinkable idea and a punishable offense - you just didn't know that punishment would be this pleasurable. He explores your body with the eagerness of a lover and the curiosity of an explorer, and despite his face being hidden, you can almost feel his cold gaze going deeper, pressing closer. Konig accepts your call, he accepts you as the price for whatever little wish you had hidden in your chest. And while he doesn't need a wife, doesn't need a mortal lover on his arm, he will take joy in filling you up with his eggs and watching as you slowly succumb to him - just like a cute little worshiper like you should. And if you would finally get enough of a brain to try and refuse him, then, well... Konig wouldn't mind breaking a leg or two to keep you trapped in his sea cave forever - or right until you're ready to become a proper old god's wife.

[farenmaddox]

Welcome to Whump Fest!

The long-awaited (okay not that long) Cas Whump Fic is live – but that’s not all! There’s more!

See, @wanderingcas and I were talking and realized we were both in the middle of starting a whump fic, and we thought “you know what would be fun? Dropping our fics together.” Two whump fics for the price of one, babes!

But the thing about @colorlessjay is that he is an enabler wonderful friend, and wanted to draw something for both of us, and thus WHUMP FEST™ was born. So you see, the wait was beyond worth it because now there’s all of this fabulousness to enjoy!

This here is my contribution, and there are links to the other fic and to the artist below.

Title: first a weapon & then not Author: FarenMaddox (that’s me!) Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Sam Winchester Rating: Explicit, for blood and gore AO3 tags:

Summary: When Dean nearly runs over an injured Castiel on the way back from meeting Metratron at the end of 08x21, it doesn't take long to realize something is seriously wrong with his friend. More than he'd realized, more than Cas can hide. He can't speak, can't stand, can't remember things. Dean will have to swallow the bitter feelings he's been harboring since the crypt and help him, or Cas might not make it through the night. But if he does pull through, maybe Dean will get another chance to make Cas understand what he's been trying to say.

-------------------------------------------

Cas had one hand curled over his stomach, one grinding against his forehead, and his eyes were darting everywhere. Dean couldn’t catch his gaze. “I n-need to find—I need to get—safe.” “Let me help. It’s me, Cas. It’s me.” Something in Cas’s expression calmed, for a moment, but then he looked like he was on the verge of tears. “It’s me, we’re family,” he said, eyes finally looking at Dean straight-on, intense. Dean recognized his own words just fine, since they’d been festering in his chest for weeks. They hit him harder than the blow Cas had just landed on his eye, which was throbbing in time to his frantic heartbeat. “Yeah,” he said, hearing his voice shake and immediately angry with himself and Cas both. “Yeah, it’s Dean.”

----------------------------------------

You can read my fic (including a gorgeous illustration) on AO3 here: first a weapon & then not Check out the other whump fic (a beautiful, angsty, sexy fic set in the aftermath of the "attack dog spell" of early season 11) here: the weight of the world Check out @colorlessjay's Tumblr for amazing art of these fics, and much more!

Don’t forget to reblog so we can share the joys of WHUMP FEST™ far and wide!

Taglist below the cut

@wanderingcas @colorlessjay @averyoddfishindeed @cheridraws @katstiel @therabbitthatpostthings @angel-fruitcake @feralarsonistchewingsand @a-murmur-of-a-prayer @reasonsweweresinging @lazarrusrising @lucik-for-short @kubb-is-a-swedish-lawn-game @7amonathursdayinoctober @formerlyfandy @lotusinyunmeng @king4aday @coastalmedusa @collapseddominos @hiighlighterr @raptorwithamarker @shameandregretsnotfound @nerdwholikesnerdythings @wonderland-girl-143-blog @mildly-insane-bowties @lilibean96 @profoundstarfishmusic @give-bucky-his-boyfriend-back @starrynights-brokenhalos @thenerdy-1 @skizcake @passinhosdetartaruga @unexpectedgeese @emeraldavenger12 @joshuakellin @halothenthehorns @destiel-shipper-11 @midniterose @mogoona3000 @reyolfx @blueberriesareking @smallkatas @rouiyisnotonline @lucik-for-short @kiwichaeng @scifiromance7 @nekoshi13 @antisocialpyromaniac @rainbowtyrant @drowning-in-fandoms1 @mypeopleskillzarerusty @baikeynotbailey @kaiteymae @odessa94 @amemiciacitu @angels-divine-madness @beaniegaebie @lovelydisc @favoritefandoms27 @destielinimpala @theprodigaldaughterisback @sadwizardjessi @saratsuzuki @what-if-i-just-did @tireddreamergirl @cake--hearts @maxayb @hunter-lilith @sunshineandwings86 @goldenchips @icarus-lestrange @samantha-lefay @chaoticbasicallyuselessbisexual @castiel--for--king @pianopeep @lxstkxddo @callsign-ember @ihaveanaxe @minnesinger @dr-reids-fidget-toy

[qqueenofhades]

The Fall Welcome Back Faculty Staff University Retreat, which persisted in giving me so much unfortunate Academia AU fic fodder before it even began, is in fact about to begin. Pray for me.

(If I continue to appear sporadically, kvetch about this or similar topics, and then vanish again for an extended spell, forgive me. I am currently in the middle of Welcome Back Week with multiple orientations to plan/attend as both faculty/staff and student; am preparing to apply for a promotion in my current job while simultaneously continuing to fight with HR/the central university admin; trying to get my apartment leasing office to fucking fix multiple maintenance issues; preparing to start said mmmth graduate degree; and otherwise having Way Too Much Shit To Do. Thoughts and prayers, etc.)

[somewhere-on-venus]

So you want to worship Aphrodite?

Aphrodite goddess of love, beauty, sexuality and so on.

Born of seafoam, goddess of the peoples hearts.

Aphrodite has been a big part of my life for awhile... Shes blessed me in many ways! And if you want to work with her I hope to help you.

I won't be going into her history in this post, this is more of a guide on how to get started on worshipping her.

The first thing alot of people ask about is how to build that connection, how to reach out. With any deity I work with I started out leaving an offering, lighting a candle and/or incense and offering my devotion through prayer. I then usually follow up with divination of some form to build on the relationship and get to know them. As for offerings I find it can be flexible to what you have. But I'll list off some traditional and other kinds of offerings here first!

Offerings~

• frankincense incense

• apple

• eggs

• strawberries

• chocolate

• honey

• roses

• olives

• wine/mulled wine

• raisins/grapes

• perfume

• cosmetics

• shells

These are just a few but there are plenty more.

I personally when I'm short on any of these I offer her some of my own food. Theres been times where she has gotten a pizza pocket but a big thing is to remember is to not stress about this! The gods are understanding, they won't be mad and Aphrodite certainly wont be! The biggest thing that matters is that it comes from the heart...

Ill also listen some plants and food associated with her as it might also be helpful for offerings.

• rosemary

• hibiscus

• Jasmine

• myrtle

• mint

• cinnamon

• basil

• cannabis

• lettuce

• strawberries

• pomegranate

• iris

• myyrh

• vanilla

• ginger

• peach

• frankincense

Associated animals

• doves

• sparrows

• waterfowl

• dolphins

Crystals

• rose quartz

• pearl

• aquamarine

• jade

• moonstone

• rhodolite

• carnelian

Setting up an altar

Personally I set up a small altar space first... I see it as welcoming them into my home, healing them settle/get comfortable. It would be like maybe getting your home presentable and such for a new friend coming over. And I believe that when approaching the gods you should do it like that, great them as a new friend. Be respectful, don't rush into it and be welcoming.

When I first set up my altar to Aphrodite I looked around my room for what I could use first. I wouldn't rush into buying stuff until you've established that connection.

I searched for shells, pink items, fake flowers etc. I even put toys and jewelry that reminded me of her on there. I also used a tea light and pink spell candles.

This was my first altar:

If you have any questions let me know.. I will do posts like these on other deities I worship soon 🩷

(also this is from my personal experience.. I hope it is helpful though)

[honeyynymphh]

All This Sweet Work

|| Otto Hightower x Fem!Reader || Rating: E Words: 2k short ficlet 18+ MDNI ao3 link

As a lady-in-waiting to Queen Alicent, you strike up a friendship with the Hand of the King with whom you regularly meet under the pretence of relaying news about the Queen. Recently widowed, having only been married for a few months to a man who was quite unkind to her. you are eager to see Ser Otto for your meetings which then turn into regular dinners. You find yourself yearning for more than just his company, not knowing that he began the arrangement in order to see if you were suitable to marry his eldest son...but he has ended up wanting you for himself. Based on idea I had with @handofkings and @sucharide <3 There is no real lead up, this is as straight to the point as I've written before lmao tags: yearning, admittance of feelings, fingering, oral (f receiving), body worship, p in v, lots of smooching

The fire is warm, though the flames have grown small at such a late hour. You watch them as they dance slowly across the glowing embers within the grate and sigh, leaning back against the settee.

“The hour grows late, my lady,” comes the voice of Ser Otto. You turn your head to him, watching the firelight dance across his face, catching the remnants of red in his hair and making them shine. “You should return back to your rooms.”

You should return but you have no wish to do so. The wine in your belly has you warmed from within and you are too comfortable languishing in the Tower of the Hand to want to return to your empty room.

“If you wish me to leave, my lord hand, I shall retire.”

You stand carefully, smoothing down your dress as you do so. How many nights have you spent here? You could not recall. But they always ended the same—with an oddly awkward but polite farewell despite how easy and comfortable the conversation had been previously.

You knew more about this man than anyone else, even your queen. Though he was still somewhat of a mystery. A lady in waiting had no need to spend her hours with the Hand of the King yet here you were. You could barely recall how it had started all those weeks ago but you couldn't imagine your life without Ser Otto - which was a distressing thought. You would soon have to remarry and all of this would be gone. Again, you would belong to another and how you yearned for something like this…how you wanted to stay with him.

“I do not wish for that,” he says, stepping a little closer than is proper. “I would have you stay.”

His hand reaches toward you, slowly and a little unsure if his touch will be unwelcome. But it is not, and so you do not stop him from gently touching your cheek. His large hand is soft and warm, and it twists the awkward tension in your belly into pleasurable anticipation.

He comes closer, you can feel the weight of his cloak as it brushes against you. You can't help but lean into his touch, it had been so long since you had felt a touch as welcome as his. As you move, eyes briefly closing - just a mere moment as your body relishes in the touch - he sighs. He is so close that his breath ghosts against your skin and your eyes find his. They watch you carefully.

"Will you stay?" he asks. His voice is low, as if speaking any louder will destroy whatever spell is holding you both.

You nod. "Yes, my lord hand."

"Otto."

You smile softly. "Otto."

He moves quickly then, the hand on your cheek sliding into your hair as the other wraps around your middle to pull you into him. His mouth is against yours, insistent as he murmurs your own name against your lips like prayer.

The kiss deepens, there is no resistance when you’ve spent your days daydreaming about such an occurrence. You can taste the wine that lingers still on his lips and you’re lost to the sensation of his mouth devouring yours. It had been so long since you’d felt the touch of another, not that your late husband had ever kissed you in such a way before. Your skin itches with pleasure, desperate for more as you clutch at his doublet and press yourself against him. The responding growl that this elicits from Otto has you feverish with want.

“My lady…” His mouth leaves kisses against your jaw, neck until his nose is buried in your hair. “Forgive me.”

His actions betray his words as he makes no move to stop and you don’t either. A moan leaves you as his mouth tickles a spot behind your ear, his warm breath making your skin prickle deliciously in response.

“Ask me to stop and I will,” he says in that gravelly low voice you adore so much.

You can’t help but smile at his words, tilting your head towards him, his beard tickling your skin.

“I do not wish you to,” you say.

You manage to catch a glimpse of the expression on his face, a look of satisfaction at your words.

“Then who am I to deny you, sweet girl,” he replies, bringing you back against him.

His lips are on yours again, more insistent than before. Hands search and grip as you’re quickly steered towards his inner chambers. The room is bathed in the light from another fire, though its flames have died long ago leaving only the glowing embers. For a moment you wonder if you should be doing this, if this has suddenly escalated too fast. But there isn’t much room for thought nor reason as Otto’s long fingers quickly make work of the buttons on your dress before it pools to the floor at your feet. You shiver under his gaze, a look that nobody has ever given you before—it makes your skin tingle in anticipation. Your nerves creep back then, your past marriage had not been a pleasant one but it’s hard to remain unsure when Otto’s large and warm hands are against your skin as he peels away your small clothes. His touch is firm yet he doesn’t aim to dominate or bruise—the kind of touch you had sadly grown used to. As he caresses your skin you feel worshipped and a burning need of want grows stronger between your thighs as his hands skim across your skin. You suck in a sharp breath when they graze on the underside of your breasts and then drop low, leaving gooseflesh in their wake.

“Lie down,” he whispers and you do so quickly, moving back against the large bed behind you.

It’s covered in soft sheets and furs, it feels luxurious against your bare skin. As much as you wish to relax and sink into the bed, your body is strung too tight with delicious tension as he follows your movements. His gaze is intense through his half lidded eyes as he moves toward you. Hands continue to move across your skin and your breath hitches when he suddenly hooks his large hands behind your knees and pulls your body toward him so that your legs are hanging off his bed. You go to sit up, surprised at his actions and hating the way your chest constricts nervously—this isn’t something that has ever happened to you before. Never had your late husband deigned to even think of your pleasure. Those horrible memories instantly flee when Otto sinks between your legs and his head moves between your thighs. The tickles of his beard as he kisses the softness of your inner thigh has you sighing and trembling as his lips inch closer to the apex of your thighs. Your back arches and your hands desperately grip at the soft furs upon the bed when Otto’s mouth is upon your cunt.

His tongue is insistent and demanding, you moan loudly as his nose presses against the bundle of pleasure between your legs. He groans in response and the sound vibrates through you as keeps his mouth busy, the burning feeling growing fast. You know the pleasure is going to break soon, you can feel the tension building and you twist against the bed as he continues to devour you. When his mouth moves higher and you feel him sucking on your swollen bud you can’t help but moan out his name. He growls against you again, obviously enjoying the sounds he’s able to pull from you as your hands desperately grab at his hair and press him against you, not caring how wanton you’re behaving. 

He leans back then and you desperately try to move back toward him, eager for his mouth to return to your cunt. “Please—” Your words are cut short when long fingers are sliding through your slit and teasing at your core.

“You taste divine, sweetling,” he murmurs, amusement coating his words as you try to gain more friction from his fingers. “And you are more eager than I anticipated.” There are no words left as you linger in that aching space of desire, needing so much more and yearning for release. His mouth returns to your bud as two digits are finally sliding into you. It feels too good as he pumps them slowly, and you grind down against them as you beg for more. Finally his fingers move faster and you suddenly come quick and hard as he presses open mouth kisses against your cunt and thighs, beard tickling you as he does. The high of your pleasure is still washing over you and your body is slick with sweat as you pant. You manage to watch through heavy eyes as he stands—you can see your release on his face, his lips wet and shining with it. Your hands reach for the clasps on his doublet as you sit up on the bed, quickly trying to undo them. The buttons and claps are tricky and you fumble in your eagerness for him to be as bare as you.

Otto grabs your frantic hands and stills them so he can bring your mouth to his in a searing kiss, you taste yourself upon his tongue yet you don’t care. Desire builds anew within your belly and his hands drop yours so that he can divest himself of his clothes with practised ease. When he pulls back, you're both breathing hard and his chest is bared to you. Your eyes flick over his chest and your hands explore, threading through his greying chest hair. The years had softened what was once the body of a knight and your fingers trace the remnants of scars long healed with care. Your hands lower over his belly until you reach his breeches where you can clearly see the large bulge. Instinctively you reach and cup him through the cloth, making him shudder before you undo them.

“You will be my undoing, sweet girl,” he says as you take out his hardened length, pushing his breeches to the floor. “Lean back.”

You do as he says and he is upon you then, forcing you back onto the bed as he covers your body with his larger one. Your hand wraps around his cock, your movements a little unsure but the way he sighs your name has you guiding him between your legs. You need to have him within you and you can sense that he is reaching the limit of his own control.

When he slides into your warmth you cry out with relief, legs wrapping around him and pulling him in deeper. You feel split open and complete at the same time, your blood singing with want. The indescribable feeling of need crashes over you and your nails dig into his back, urging him to move. “I need—”

“I know, my darling girl.”

He moves slowly then, pulling back and sinking into you deeper. You cry out and tilt your hips before he does it again so he’s sinking even further. The fullness is overwhelming and when his mouth presses a gentle kiss upon your forehead you weep at the touch. Never had you felt so adored in that moment and he does it again, whispering against your cheek with soothing words. When he moves next, it’s fast and hard—and you cry out again. The tension within you is becoming tighter and you can feel another release upon you. Otto leans back, and one of his hands is between you so he can press against your swollen bud, making your words jumble as you babble for more.

The man relents, his fingers firmly teasing as his cock fills you. When you tilt your hips to meet him, your world goes bright as you come undone, tensions melting away as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your release continues and you cling to him when you feel him begin to move away from you, you can feel the way he is swelling within you and can’t bear to let him leave.

“Please, no,” you manage to say, finding his gaze. “Stay with me.”

There is a fleeting look in his eyes, you know later you will worry about this decision but in the moment you do not care. You know he is thinking the same, yet it is clear he also doesn’t care for whatever consequence there may be. The need to be joined is too strong for you both. Otto’s hands reach for yours and clasp them tightly, pinning them by your head against the bed. He thrusts into you with abandon then, chasing his pleasure and quickly building another flame within you. Your eyes close as you feel the peak come hurtling toward you as his release hits him, and you feel the warmth as he fills you, his unfiltered groans of pleasure only making your own pleasure crash again. When his movements are still, you untangle your hands from his and reach for his face, moving the hair that has fallen in his eyes. 

He presses another kiss to your forehead and you sigh in relief as he falls beside you, pulling you into his arms. The room is warm and your skin is coated in sweat as his seed coats your thighs. You know you should leave, that you should clean yourself up and remove yourself from his chambers. Yet you cannot make yourself leave his comforting embrace and tell yourself it shall be something to deal with when morning comes. After all, he had asked you to stay and who are you to deny the Hand of the King?

And the sunlight clasps the earth    And the moonbeams kiss the sea: What is all this sweet work worth    If thou kiss not me? - excerpt from Love's Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelley

thanks for reading :)

[potato-lord-but-not]

“There’s something aesthetically pleasing about the word noon. Its palindromic spelling feels appropriate for the middle of the day, when the sun is directly overhead and the hands on the clock are pointed upward in a straight line. It’s even spelled with letters found more or less in the middle of the alphabet.” (“What Time Is…” par. 1)

Perhaps unfortunately for my argument, this article goes on to explain how the word ‘noon’ originally referred to the ninth hour of the day, that of course being 3 o’clock; because the sun and with it the people rose at six. It is derived from the Latin word for ‘ninth’, ‘nonus’. The word’s meaning apparently shifted during the twelfth century, because of the prayers of monastic orders. The second of three daily prayers would occur at noon, and the time of this prayer eventually became earlier, landing at twelve. This is believed to have been so the monks could break their fast sooner. Of course, this is not universally agreed upon and other theories include shifts in seasonal daylit hours, and European Medieval people’s struggles to have accurate timekeeping.

None of my sources suggest that three o’clock was considered the middle of the day at any point in time, therefore I would like to argue that the word noon did not originally refer to the middle of the day, but eventually, when it was given to the time that is more deserving of that title, came to do so. I believe that the denotation “middle of the day” is something that is both scientifically and culturally awarded, and that for whatever reason the people (however unknowingly) creating the Old/Middle English language believed twelve o’clock to be so. If you wish to create your own cultural norms, by all means go ahead, just remember that the word culture refers to a group, so you’ll need to find some people who agree with you. (Which, hey, maybe you already have, maybe most people agree with you and I’m just being pedantic.)

Anyways um hi, sorry about this, I did in fact make a tumblr account solely to send you this, because the idea of doing so was too funny to me to not.  Also, I just discovered that the Oxford English Dictionary website has a pay wall these days and I am DEVASTATED I tell you, devastated. But yeah, I’ll stop, have a good weekend, I love you, I hope your morning spent on public transit hasn’t been too boring.

Works Cited

“Culture Definition & Meaning.” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/culture. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.

“Noon (n.).” Online Etymology Dictionary, www.etymonline.com/word/noon. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.

“What Time Is ‘Noon’?” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriam-webster.com/wordplay/noon-history-ninth-prayer-hour-nones. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.

OFC you’re leaving citations on A TUMBLR ASK OH MY GODDD anyway I do believe I’m starting a cultural shift because everyone I’ve asked so far has NOT said mid-day is noon they’ve ranged from 11-1 to 1-2 (albeit a bit earlier than my 2-3 answer but STILL)

Yknow what fuck it let’s do a poll bb

anyywayyyy everyone say hi to my girlfrienddd give them a nice warm welcome to tumblr <3

[diejager]

Welcome Home Cw: DARKFIC, implied murder, crime, death, killing, blood and gore, violent murder, praising, nicknames (kitten, pet), dark!reader, Ghostface!reader, stalking, tell me if I missed any.

Part 5

Simon left Johnny with a whispered promise to be back within the week, be it a day or four, he’d find himself back into the open arms of his scared and paranoid boyfriend. He loved how dependent on him Johnny had grown since you’d started playing with Johnny, following his command to scare and taunt and tease with your little dabs of personality. How playful you were, sly with your words and swift with your hands, exactly the way he taught you. Unlike him and Johnny, who were trained and built to be strong and dependable, taught in the mass and bled to be better —to learn from deaths and mistakes; you were sculpted by his hands, to fit a certain mould he had in mind when he first caught you, he made you who you were, every piece a constant reminder of his lessons. 

A rippling effect of hunger and possession followed wherever you went, the subtle letters you left on his doorstep, the notes and bloody prints on his kitchen island, the small shadow outside of his window or the pictures you’d occasionally mail to Johnny for entertainment. And when he was at yours, the clink of your bell, the padded steps of your socked feet, the soft lull of your voice, and the many scars his fingers and lips would run over. Simon’s body churned with frustration from the long months spent away from you, he missed the feel of your skin under his palm and the bites he left week prior (they were probably healed by now, pale scars in the places where he made you bleed and smooth skin where it was superficial), yet a dark hunger - a deep-seated need - hung over him, an itch at the back of his mind that made his fingers twitch and knee jerk to hold and knead something, anything —you.

He had to remind himself that success took patience, something that was thinning by the minute. Unfortunate months away from you, lost in the throes of pleasure and affection with Johnny while missing a part of him (he will fix it, he planned to), only to have to wait for you to pop your head through the doorway of his more reclusive home. Simon hadn’t told you he’d be home, he wanted it to be a surprise, to see your eyes shine and gleam with unbridled happiness the moment he stepped into the cooler house and jump into his arms like the good kitten you were.

But no, you weren’t—

His back tensed at the ringing sound of jiggling keys, he glanced at the open hallway, watching your slump unevenly from the heavy bags hanging from one shoulder, quietly dropping them with a relieved sigh. You moved around to lock the door behind you, the familiar click resounding in his ears while he silently admired you as if you were an exotic animal —you were in a way, a well-trained and beautiful pet. You hooked your finger under the heel of your shoes, gasping a small grin when you finally saw his boots, a matte black against the light mocha of the welcome mat.

Forgetting the bags of groceries, you haphazardly placed the keys on the drawer in your rush to find him, your feet padding loudly in the open hallway that lead to the living room, where he sat comfortably, legs wide and arms spread over the armrest, resting his chin on his scarred knuckles. He sat like a king, broad and powerful, just as he was one in the world he built for you. You whispered his name, wide-eyed and parted lips, mumbling his name like a prayer, worshipping his name as you took slow and gasping steps towards him, arms outstretched to call him forward. 

“Kitten,” Simon met you halfway, leaving his throne-like armchair to lock fingers with you, pulling you to his chest with a quick sleight of hand, spelling magic his hands and tongue. His fingers found themselves in your hair, gripping your nape in an arching hold and drowned himself in you, his rough lips devouring your grunts and pants, tongue lapping at the sweetness of your mouth.

He was proud. He was so, so proud of you. He read the most recent attack, a bloody and passionate murder that left the room drenched in blood and gore, no evidence, no hints, no leads to the killer. It was a parody of life in the cruelest ways; a new beginning in the start of death, welcoming it as one would greet life. Your art was on the front page of every daily mail, the lettering bold and calling, showing the world how beautifully cruel you could be when given the right study. 

GHOSTFACE STRIKES AGAIN

Investigators were called to the residence of Abigail Hutchinson after her boyfriend found her murdered in the living room of her house. No evidence were found in the crime scene, neither hair nor sweat from the killer. The Greater Manchester Police(GMP) investigators suspect Mrs. Hutchinson to be another victim of Ghostface, infamous for his erratic murders of ‘passion’. Investigators say that this murder fits Ghostface’s MO, from the level of violence to the picture left behind. Much is know of how he kills : seemingly planned and personal, still nothing is known of the killer. We don’t know the reasons behind the choice of his victims or the means of which he kills, but all we know is that Ghostface is willing to kill both young and old. No one is safe from him. 

He had read the article over and over, eating every little detail you left to taunt the failing department that was tasked to protect the region he lived in. You had taken life after life, and yet they weren’t any closer to finding you. You were meticulous in your work, careful to the point of paranoia about making a mistake, yet you never panicked. He’d instilled a calmness in you that others rarely had in such a situation, relying on your mind rather than adrenaline-fuelled instincts. 

He couldn’t have felt any prouder, a warmth bubbling in his chest as he held you on his lap, straddling him as he fed you praises. Your lips were plump and soft, easily swollen from just a few rough kisses that left you gasping and wanting, fingers clinging to the lapels of his jacket and grinding against his growing bulge for more. You nipped at his lower lip, teeth sinking into his equally swollen lip and bled him, your hands as needy as him in their wander, raking across his shoulders and down his chest all while you groaned his name.

“Si,” you moaned, slowly rutting against him, lids heavy and voice whispering yours pleas, “Please, Si. Haven’t I been good?”

He let out a pleased rumble.

taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

“‘M proud of you. Now be a good pet and kneel, yeah? Let me show you how proud I am.” 

Part 7

[to-hypnos-we-dream]

Welcome to the Temple of Hypnos, a sacred place of worship to the God of Sleep.

This is a digital temple one may return to whenever and wherever. All are welcome to the Temple of Hypnos, mind that this is a safe place for all systems, non-humans, disabled people, queer people, and people of color. Bigots will not be tolerated as this is a space of healing.

Our Mission Statement:

{It is our goal to create a community in which worship and devotion to Hypnos is held in a safe and soothing space. We honor Hypnos through offerings, prayers, discussion, and more. There is no strict path in the worship of Sleep, for all perspectives are welcome here.}

I, Ardyn, am the Cleric of this temple. I am sleep angelkin and have been alongside Hypnos since before this life. You may refer to me using He/It/Dark/Sleep pronouns. I'm a genderqueer intersex transfem trans man. This is not just my place of worship, but yours. I have made this for all of us, may we rejoice before the winged deity, Hypnos.

As this is your place of worship, you may submit any form of devotion. You may also ask or discuss anything you desire that is related to Hellenism or Hypnos. This may include art, prayers, experiences, offerings, poetry, spells, dreams, and more to present within the temple. You may also request anything from us, whether prayers, rituals, digital offering boards, and more. Community events may be held, and more is to be added as we grow. Every Sunday we post Revelations to Hypnos and every first day of the month we post a feedback google form to give you a voice!

To all who come across this blog; May you all be presented with loving dreams tonight and ever so gentle rest. Blessed be Hypnos.

Resources

Hypnos Devotee List

Hellenic and Hypnos Resources Masterpost

Hypnos Prayers

Hypnos Devotional Act Guide Masterpost

Resources on Sleep and Dreams

Temple Customization

dividers made by @vibeswithrenai

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: 5 Symbols

for your next poem/story (pt. 2)

BA

For the Ancient Egyptians, the Ba was the symbolic representation of the soul.

It takes the form of a small bird with the head of a human being.

Could fly between its owner and the Gods for as long as the body was intact.

The Ba is twinned with the Ka.

If the Ba represented the soul, then the Ka was the “life-force,” the spark of life that animated the body and whose departure resulted in death.

The Ka was sustained with offerings of food and drink, although it was the “ka” or spirit of the food and drink that was consumed.

In the Afterlife, the Ba and the Ka would be reunited to form one single entity.

BECKONING CAT

A friendly little statuette with a warm welcome found all over Japan and China.

What the cat is doing with his paws carries a secret message.

The cute little Maneki Neko or beckoning cat is ubiquitous in Japan and China where he appears in both homes and offices.

Can be seen in Oriental restaurants all over the world and is for many people the ultimate symbol of prosperity and good luck.

Comes in different colors, each of which signifies a different meaning:

For example, a red cat will protect from illness, and

a black one will ward off evil.

The position of the paws also carries a message:

With the right paw raised the cat will bring money and happiness to home and workplace.

A cat raising its left paw will attract new customers for a business.

And a cat with both paws raised hits the jackpot; both home and business will be happy and profitable, attracting good luck, friends, prosperity, and new clients.

This cat is also the symbol of the small Buddhist temple in Tokyo, where the original incident that shot the cat to fame is said to have happened:

Originally the temple was a lowly place, whose impoverished priest would regularly share what little food he had with his pet cat.

One day some Samurai were passing and noticed this cat, who had one paw raised as though to say hello. The warriors stopped, intrigued by the beckoning cat, and went into the temple just as a horrendous rain storm started.

They believed that paying attention to the cat’s invitation had prevented them being struck by lightning. Thereafter, the fortunes of the priest, the temple, and of course the cat, started to change for the better.

BULLA

This is a special charm or amulet that was given to Roman children when they were born.

A sealed locket, the bulla (“bubble” or “knob”) contained magical spells specific to the child in question, such as symbols of protection, or wishes for wealth.

Was constructed of different materials depending on the wealth of the family:

leather for the poorest families and gold or

other precious metals for the wealthiest.

Roman boys put aside their bullae when they reached puberty, and the object was offered to the Gods. Girls wore theirs until the eve of their wedding.

In either case it was considered that the bulla belonged to the child, as part and parcel of their personality.

It is the origin of the name of the Papal Bull, the special edict that hails from the Vatican, which is fastened with an oval seal of the same shape as the bulla.

CALUMET

For the Plains Indians, the pipe, also called the calumet, is one of the most important and recognizable symbols.

Although it is sometimes referred to as the Peace Pipe, shared ceremonially as part of a unifying ritual, the pipe was just as valid a symbol during times of war.

The tobacco used in the pipe is also a powerful magical substance originally intended for ritual use only.

The smoke rising from the pipe signifies a prayer traveling toward the Gods and symbolizes the sacred breath, source of all life.

The fire that lights the pipe symbolizes the Sun and the male element.

The pipe itself is equivalent to the prayer that is offered up from it.

Considered so important that in Native American tradition it is described as though it were a person, and each of its components has the name of a body part.

In addition, the bowl is described as an altar, and the stem, the passage of the breath extending from the human body.

CANDLE

Symbolizes light in the darkness in a way that a light bulb simply cannot do.

It represents the element of fire as a benevolent force.

Made even more powerful if the candle is made of wax, a substance made by a magical creature, the bee.

The colors of candles are significant in magical practices:

For example, pink is said to attract love.

Black candles are used in dark magic.

Source ⚜ More: On Symbols ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[amikaelsonstory]

Not the end, but a new beginning - I

Chapter one.

“All happy families resemble one another, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way” Lev Tostoy, Anna Karenina

As the brothers stood up, eyes full of tears, racing hearts with fear and gratitude, a breathless, loud scream cut the silent moment

- "DAD DON'T!! WE FOUND A WAY, STOP!"

Hope was running fast followed by Freya, hugged Klaus back, almost following on her knees, gasping with tears running down her face.

Klaus and Elijah turned fast, lowering their pieces of white oak daggers as they approached.

- " What do you mean, darling? I need to go, please understand"   Klaus whispered, lifting Hope face up, whipping tears from his daughter's face.

 Elijah remained speechless, his lips slightly parted in surprise, as Freya reached out and hugged him tightly, making him close his eyes and take a deep breath in some sort of relief.

- It's true brother, I found a way, the Old Gods... they finally gave me an answer. I will explain everything, but please, let's go home"

As they found their way into the compound, Rebekah, Marcel and Kol stood apprehensively up from their seats, relieved to see the girls were able to reach them on time to avoid the tragedy. 

- It seems it's not gonna be tonight you're gonna get rid of the almighty Klaus Mikaelson!  Klaus orotund, opening his arms with his crooked smile, trying to mask his remaining fears and doubts.

- Nik! Rebekah cheered running to hug her brother tightly, while Marcel and Kol tapped his shoulders, welcoming him and Elijah back.

- Let me show you what I found out.  - Freya commanded, guiding the family to follow her to the study room. 

The room was dark, as they entered and approach the table Freya showed them. It had some runes symbols written in blood on a old manuscript, a dead white bird, some herbs and a pendulum spinning fast over a bowl on fire. The air around was thick, heavy, with a slight purple mist around them.  

- Since this whole thing started I've been searching for a way to overcome the hollow power, it had to have another way, she is not the biggest power in the universe. Freya pleaded. "So I had no choice but to reach the Old Gods, from motherland, where our family comes from"

- Norway? - Elijah whispered, lifting his eyes from the runes to meet Freya's, who slowly nodded. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath before opening them again.

- Odin heard my prayer but the spell hasn't been fully revealed yet. For now I can suppress the hollow effects in Klaus, but until the full moon we must find The Undead whose sunlight cannot harm. 

- A vampire that doesn't burn in the sun? With no magic, no ring? Kol bawled in disbelief, crossing his arms against his chest - That should be easy - he taunted ironically.

- It doesn't matter, we will find it - Rebekah assured, touching Marcel's shoulder - Can you ask your people to track it and bring it to us?

I'm on it, I'm gonna make some calls and my guys will bring it to us. - Marcel stated, picking up his phone and walking out of the room - Dead or alive, or it doesn't matter?

- ALIVE - Freya's voice sounded louder than she expected - Please, we still don't know what we will need to do next, for now, you can go rest. Klaus you stay, I need to make the ritual to hold the hollow until the next full moon.

___________________________________________________________

As the days passed, the Mikaleson's basically turned the whole vampire world upside down, reaching all the possible sources in order to find this so-called "sunlight proof vampire", but they were running out of time and all they had was a whole bunch of nothing. 

Okay, not nothing. They knew there was a woman, but nothing sounded like the real deal, more like gossip if much.

Elijah, Klaus and Hope were at the study room, digging deep into all they could find.

- Alright, I managed to filter all we have, names, places, stories and got into 3 possible names. - Hope shared with them, without taking her eyes out of her laptop screen. - Natalya Fyodorova, a ballerina from Bolshoi ballet, last seen circa 1970, in Moscow. Sister Ionescu, the oldest register, seen in Romania in the beginning of 20th century and - she folded her index fingers quoting- the most "recently" - we got Minna Murray, 2007, UK. No job, no city info, just a name.

Klaus paced side by side in the room, placing his hands on his hips, looking down as he was hearing his daughter.

- Most likely it's the same person - he paused - But how do we find this bloody woman? It's not possible that nobody knows her whereabouts!!  - Klaus exploded while pouring himself a glass of bourbon 

Elijah placed his papers down on the desk, paying attention to the names Hope said. His eyes wandered away, frowning his eyebrows.  - Niklaus... weren't we in Moscow in 72?

But before Klaus could answer, Freya stormed into the room.

 - We have visitors, they found something.

[flowersdiceandlove]

thank you @godofmishfortunes for the fic rec. I read all you guys' tags btw, they're awesome. So thank you for the rec.

The Supplicant by ardenrabbit on AO3

This fic is canon divergance, where upon ascending for the third time, Xie Lian can hear all of Hua Cheng's thoughts because that dude is so much of a simp that his very thoughts are prayers to Xie Lian. It's incomplete, only has one chapter so far, and is at about 9k words. It is so good. I love it so far. I bookmarked and subscribed to the fic cause I gotta know what happens next.

AO3 info below the cut

Rating: Explicit (nothing explicit has happened yet)

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: M/M

Fandom: 天官赐福 - 墨香铜臭 | Tiān Guān Cì Fú - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù

Relationship: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian (Tian Guan Ci Fu)

Characters: Xie Lian (Tian Guan Ci Fu), Hua Cheng (Tian Guan Ci Fu), Feng Xin (Tian Guan Ci Fu), Mu Qing (Tian Guan Ci Fu)

Additional Tags: mind-reading, Kind Of, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, starts with xie lian's third ascension, and mt yujun with a twist, but then things are completely different, awkward conversations ahead

Language: English

Published: 2024-12-20

Updated: 2024-12-20

Words: 9,163

Chapters: 1/?

Summary:

Xie Lian's last believer is so fervently devoted to him that he seems to think mostly in the form of prayer. That is a terrifying prospect. Xie Lian has never heard of such a case before, not even in hypotheticals, and he finds himself hoping, for his believer's sake, that there is some other explanation for this phenomenon.

Whatever the reason, a low stream of his believer's thoughts hum in the back of Xie Lian's consciousness.

His believer does not seem to be aware of it.

_

When Xie Lian ascends for the third time, he is welcomed back to godhood with prayers that he hadn't expected: an ongoing stream of thought from his sole remaining believer. He gathers quickly that this believer is very old, very powerful, and very, very much in love with him.

For his believer's sake, Xie Lian can cast a spell to shut the prayers out—but only if he has access to spiritual energy.

[lil-binuu]

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔

Stealing Elias’s clothes

290 words (and this is generous)

HERE YOU GO POOKIE @xzhdjsj TY FOR BEING SO PATIENT ML?? DANG I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS EVEN THO ITS SHIT AS HELL

I don’t know what evil spirit condemned me to write this but I sat down to write and now we’re here. Prayers, my friends.

It did take me a while, as I lost too much respect for myself but i’ve finished it FINALLY.

Side note: I was fighting every urge in my body to write jumper instead of sweater because i’m british..

tried to make it all lovey-dovey but now elias just looks like an animal 💀

Enough commentary, Good luck reading this..

“Hey yn, have you seen my sweater-”

Elias’s eyes fell on you, absorbing the sight in front of him.

You leaning over the kitchen counter, reaching up into the cupboard above your head. Stretching out your arms, pulling his oversized sweater up to reveal your body.

The sight left Elias speechless.

He couldn't draw his eyes away for the life of him. He scanned every part of your body, soaking in your beauty, each moment he looked at you he became more and more addicted.

Seeing you in his clothes like that made him goddamn crazy.

For a second he forgets how to use his brain, standing glued to the spot in a trance - under a spell that you placed upon him - only broken when you turned around and faced him.

“Hmm? Oh sorry, I took it.” You replied. You could almost hear the people on the other side of the cameras, it was so quiet.

You blushed awkwardly, “Sorry do you mind?” Again, met with silence. No words fell from Elias’s lips - maybe a bit of drool, but.. AHAHA NO LMAO

You stared blankly at him for a second. That seemed to do the trick.

“..OH, no I don’t mind. :))”

“Are you sure?” A stupid question, Elias wasn’t even sure he was alive right now.

“Yupp”

It’s needless to say Elias spent the rest of the day very content, it’s difficult not to notice. But you’ll never notice how, from then on, Elias mixes up his clothes with yours in the laundry on purpose, or how he throws a couple of his shirts next to yours in the hopes you’ll pick it up. He just wants to see you wear his clothes again, it’s hardly his fault you look so cute in them.

I think it’s quite obvious that I cringed heavily whilst writing this. Anyways, you’re welcome.

[within-the-water]

Welcome to the Temple of Poseidon, a sacred place of worship for those who welcome him.

[ Please keep rhetoric to oneself, this is a digital space of worship. It is not fandom at any, any point. ] This is a safe space for all systems, disabled people, the mentally ill, queer people, and people of color. I will preach this as a place of healing, and it shall stay that way.

I, Eirene [20], had my name recently changed through process of elimination in a divination session. I am a landlocked sea witch who grew up with horses, relying on them for transport and wishing that was still the way today.

My name change is mentioned because I feel like, through lots of guidance, have finally stepped into my role as a priestess / oracle. This took a lot for me, as devotion consumes me but I have only recently felt ready for this huge step in my life.

One day, I should hope to open a temple of my own sacred place.

This is your space, as well as mine! Do not be afraid to submit any form of devotion for Poseidon and honored deities. This may include art, prayers, experiences, offerings, poetry, spells, dreams, godspouse writings and more to present within the temple.

You may also request readings, prayers, digital offerings, etc! I may make an info graphic if people get more curious.

DISCLAIMER:

No one person is a spokesperson of a god. No one person can be, not even an oracle. Always trust your intuition and take my title as Priestess not as gospel, but as your friend. I do not wish to dictate or rule over anyone as that is not the way of the gods, nor my way of running a polytheist temple.

Temple Discord ! Please DM if the link doesn't work <3 About Eirene Fellow E-temple List

~~~

#eirene posts -> my any and all posts

#eirene reblogs -> usually my boosts for deity content or very valued fundraisers

#poseion devotion -> ALL devotional works, mine and others

--

[mothaurora]

here is my prompt list for kinktober 2024!

Wanted to include as many fantasy themes as possible :o) I think these can be both very erotic or on the tamer side which was the goal.

Please feel free to take inspiration and change how you see fit!

have fun! xx

Copy paste for those who need it vv

Vampire Seduction

Witch’s Ritual

Goblin Mischief

Werewolf Lust

Cult Prayer/Welcoming

Succubus Temptation

Fae Enchantment

Possession

Demonic Pact 

Enchanted Forest

Ghostly Caress

Blood Magic

Shape-Shifter

Cursed Object

Dark Sorcery

Monster Mash

Forbidden Spell

Shadow Play

Mermaid’s Lure

Dark Priest/Priestess

Phantom Lover

Zombie

Alchemy Experiment

Forbidden Love

Mummy’s Curse

Ancient Relic

Dark Faerie Tale

Nightmare

Lunar Sacrifice

Infernal Celebration