#witchcraft love chants

[satanachia666]

Lucifer’s Chant for Love, Beauty, Confidence, and Creativity

From darkness to splendor, from sun to moon— To Lucifer’s brilliance, I attune. Upon this sun/moon’s most sacred hour, please grant me your charm and power. Please let the world see your beauty shining within and through me. Upon the earth, seas, and skies above, I exude your infernal love.

🌕 Pearl Satanachia 🌕

[savebribaby]

6:38 pm

[enchantedwitchling]

Illuminating the Path: A Beginner's Guide to Candle Magick

🕯️✨🔮

Candle magick is a beautiful and accessible way to harness the power of fire and light in your magical practice. Whether you're new to witchcraft or looking to deepen your connection with this ancient art, candle magick offers a versatile and powerful tool for manifesting intentions, creating sacred space, and connecting with the divine. Let's explore the basics of candle magick, how to choose and prepare your candles, and discover simple spells and rituals to illuminate your path.

What is Candle Magick?

Candle magick involves using candles as a focal point for your intentions, prayers, and spells. The flame of the candle represents the element of fire, a symbol of transformation, energy, and purification. The act of lighting a candle and focusing on its flame helps concentrate your energy and send your intentions out into the universe.

Choosing Your Candles

The first step in candle magick is selecting the right candle for your purpose. Candles come in various shapes, sizes, and colors, each holding unique magical properties.

Colour Correspondences:

White: Purity, protection, healing, spiritual growth

Red: Passion, strength, courage, love

Pink: Love, friendship, compassion, emotional healing

Orange: Creativity, enthusiasm, success, joy

Yellow: Wisdom, communication, mental clarity, confidence

Green: Prosperity, abundance, health, growth

Blue: Peace, tranquility, protection, intuition

Purple: Spirituality, psychic abilities, wisdom, power

Black: Protection, banishing negativity, grounding

Brown: Stability, grounding, home protection, animal magic

Types of Candles:

🕯️Taper Candles: Tall and thin, ideal for longer rituals and spells.

🕯️Pillar Candles: Thick and sturdy, suitable for extended workings and larger spells.

🕯️Tea Light Candles: Small and convenient, perfect for simple spells and meditations.

🕯️Chime Candles: Short and fast-burning, great for quick spells and intention-setting.

Preparing Your Candles

Once you've chosen your candle, it's essential to prepare or "dress" it for your magical work. This involves cleansing, charging, and anointing the candle to align it with your intention.

Cleansing: Cleanse your candle to remove any unwanted energies. You can pass it through the smoke of incense, sprinkle it with salt water, or hold it under running water while focusing on purifying it.

Charging: Charge your candle by holding it in your hands and visualizing your intention. Imagine your goal or desire flowing from your heart into the candle, filling it with energy and purpose.

Anointing: Anoint your candle with a suitable oil to enhance its power. Use oils that correspond to your intention, such as lavender for peace, rosemary for protection, or cinnamon for prosperity. Apply the oil from the top of the candle to the middle, then from the bottom to the middle.

Simple Candle Magick Spells and Rituals

Basic Intention Setting Spell

This is a straightforward spell for beginners to focus on a specific goal or desire.

1. Choose a candle color that matches your intention.

2. Write your intention on a piece of paper.

3. Light the candle and visualize your intention coming to fruition.

4. Focus on the flame and chant your intention, such as "I am attracting abundance" or "I am protected and safe."

5. Burn the paper in the candle's flame and let the candle burn down safely.

Candle Meditation for Clarity

This ritual helps clear your mind and gain insight or guidance.

1. Choose a white or blue candle.

2. Light the candle and sit comfortably in front of it.

3. Focus on the flame and take deep breaths, allowing your mind to clear.

4. Ask a question or seek guidance, and watch the flame for any flickers or movements.

5. Meditate for as long as you feel necessary, then extinguish the candle.

Protection Candle Spell

This spell creates a shield of protection around you or your home.

1. Choose a black or white candle.

2. Anoint the candle with protection oil (e.g., rosemary or frankincense).

3. Light the candle and visualize a protective shield surrounding you or your space.

4. Chant, "By this flame, I am protected. Negative energies are deflected."

5. Let the candle burn down safely, reinforcing your protective barrier.

Love and Friendship Spell

This spell attracts love, compassion, and friendship into your life

1. Choose a pink candle.

2. Write your desire for love or friendship on a piece of paper

3. Anoint the candle with rose oil

4. Light the candle and visualize loving energy flowing towards you.

5. Chant, "Love and friendship come my way, with harm to none, this I say."

6. Burn the paper in the flame and let the candle burn down safely.

Tips for Safe and Effective Candle Magick

• Always practice fire safety. Never leave a burning candle unattended and place it on a heat-resistant surface.

• Use a snuffer or your fingers to extinguish candles. Blowing them out can disperse the energy.

• Be mindful of the candle's flame and wax. The way it burns can provide insights into your spell's effectiveness.

• Keep a journal of your candle magick experiences to track your progress and learn from each ritual.

Candle magick is a powerful and accessible way to work with the elemental energy of fire and manifest your desires. By choosing the right candles, preparing them with intention, and engaging in simple spells and rituals, you can harness the transformative power of candle magick to illuminate your path and achieve your goals. As you light your candles, may your intentions burn bright, your heart be full of magic, and your spirit be guided by the gentle glow of the flame.

Happy casting!

🕯️✨🔮

[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞 𝖂𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝕽𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊

𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷 - 𝙳𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝙰𝚛𝚒 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊.

𝙰𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ~ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗'𝚜 𝚟𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊, 𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑

𝙶𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚑𝚢 ~ 𝙰 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚗-𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚋 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚟𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚜

𝚂𝚝𝚢𝚐𝚒𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Word Count: ~3.5k

Relationship: demon!Ari Levinson x virgin witch fem!reader

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (size kink, unprotected p in v, breeding kink), violence, witchcraft, self cannibalism? SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all my latest fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You breathed deeply as you checked your sigil and ensured the circle of salt was complete, placing crystals and candles around yourself before sitting back on your heels and closing your eyes. The backs of your hands rested on your knees when you began to chant in a low voice, swaying when you felt the power starting to flow through your veins as your voice grew stronger.

“Fortitudinis filia sum et rapui omni hora a iuventute mea. Caeli me alloquuntur! Concupiunt et cupiunt me furioso appetitu! adumbrata calenti saxea, et purpureo nubilo tectus sum. Ego autem defloratus sum, et adhuc virgo! ecce! Educam tibi natos, o vir Arximoro!!”

The sigil started glowing a deep red and you opened your eyes, your breath catching when smoke that smelled of sulfur began to fill the room. When you heard a distant roar you steeled yourself, keeping a dispassionate look on your face when the furious noises grew closer. Horns appeared in the center of your circle and you fought every instinct that told you to prostrate yourself and beg forgiveness. You were the strongest witch of your age, there was none alive who could hold a candle to you. You would not cower and beg like a simpering girl, no matter that you were making a show of supplication.

As soon as he broke through the haze Ari growled, shaking his head and thrashing his tail while he took in his surroundings. When he realized he was bound he snarled, testing your circle and groaning at the strength of it and gnashing his teeth as he threw himself against the ring of salt. He hated the plane you had called him to, the stench of humanity and the cool air was like a curse. Then he spotted you kneeling at the edge of the circle and bared his teeth, crouching like some massive predator about to pounce as his silver eyes raked over your naked body.

“You stupid little witch…” Ari licked one of his massive fangs and sneered when you just stared back at him, his claws digging into the wood floor as he thought about dragging them across your tempting flesh. “Unbind me now and I promise to leave your body as lovely and unbroken as it currently is.”

“If I am stupid then remove yourself from my restraints.” You winced and cursed yourself under your breath, hating that you had already lost control of your mouth. “Um..I am sorry, my lord.” Even though you had him bound and you needed to remain strong you would still show him the respect he was due as a Lord of Hell, since you didn’t want to end up filleted when you eventually had to release him. “But I fear they are a necessity as I make my plea.”

“Foolish girl.” He tossed his head and let out a rumble from deep in his chest when you dipped your fingers in fragrant oils and began to draw runes on your breasts and stomach, surprised at the sudden feeling of desire he felt stirring in his core. “Make your plea and make it quick, I have more important matters to deal with than some needy little witch. What do you want?”

“There are a great many things I want, my lord.” You could feel the way the intent of his gaze started to shift and it made your breath grow shallow, your eyes sliding up his body until they met his and you let out a small gasp at their intensity. “But what I need is a child. And a worthy mate to sire the child.”

“And you wish for me to sire your spawn? How flattering.” Ari let out a harsh laugh and rose to his full height, rolling his shoulders as he gazed down at you from his eight feet and ran his forked tongue over his bottom lip. “Tell me why you require the seed of a Lord of Hell, woman.”

“I will show you, my lord.” You mentally checked your bindings as you rose to your feet, biting your lip and bowing your head as you turned so he could see the brands that had been seared along your spine. “A warlock bought and bound me, using my power as his own and binding me to his will. I cannot break free without the seed of one of the most powerful of all demons.”

Ari snarled when he saw the marks on your back, his tail lashing back and forth while rage started to creep through his veins. He could look at you with as much disdain as he wanted, he was a Lord of Hell and you were mortal. The stink of humanity tainted you, in spite of the fact you were a witch of incredible power. But even if you were below the hierarchy of Hell, you were still a servant of the Dark Lord. The fact that some worm of a mortal with no power of his own had made such a vile claim on you, a handmaiden of Lucifer, was an offense of the highest order. You were being wasted on some mortal’s whims instead of serving your eternal master as you should.

“Tell me where he is, little witch.” Ari started to push at his bindings again, his voice low and feral as he thought about ripping into the man who had dared to defile one of the unholy servants of Satan. “I would see this mortal punished for his crimes.”

“He is asleep. I brewed a draught that will keep him unconscious and unaware of my activities for the next hour.” You knelt at the edge of the circle again, fighting against every independent bone in your body and bowing your head respectfully as you continued to address him. “Even in death he has arranged for my bond to pass to another warlock just as vile as he. I can only be freed by demonic seed and the spawn of an unholy Lord. This is my plea to you, my lord, to bear your child and be your humble servant in exchange for being released from this bond that was placed without my consent.”

He almost purred as he watched you lay at his feet, his claws scraping against the wood when he flexed his toes as he considered what you were asking of him. You were as comely a witch as he had ever seen, and he wasn’t one to deny himself the pleasure of a mortal lover, much less one that was only half mortal, such as yourself. And the smell of power that came from you was intoxicating. A child borne from a union between the two of you would be a creature of incredible strength. He couldn’t deny that the thought of propagating his line with a witch as lovely and impressive as you aroused him, heat flushing his body as he stepped as close as he could while the circle was still complete.

“I will do this for you, little one.” Ari breathed deeply when he saw you relax, leaning down and pressing his thick fingers to the floor at the edge of the circle. “But know that I expect something in return:”

“I will give you whatever you desire, my lord.” You began the process of releasing him from your circle, extinguishing the candles with a flick of your wrist and pricking your fingers so you could adjust your sigils as needed. “I will bind myself to you my lord. I will be your humble servant. If you wish to take the child once it is born I will let you. All I wish is to be free of this man and his cruel desires.”

When you freed him from the circle he stretched his entire body, his massive wings unfurling and his tail lashing back and forth before he stepped closer to you. His eyes bored into yours, and he found himself licking his lips at the intensity of the hunger in your gaze. You gasped softly when he wrapped his tail around you like a lover would their arms, your breathing growing heavier as he pulled you off your feet so he could drag his nose over the curve of your neck. Ari breathed in your scent deeply and growled at the sweetness, lifting you even higher so he could rub his face against your breasts. He laid you on the floor and licked his fangs while he stretched his body over yours, his massive frame caging you in while his tail snaked around your soft body and he started to brush his nose down your stomach.

“Mmm, I love the smell of a virgin cunt.” Ari purred when he nuzzled at the plump folds of your mound, hooking your knees over his horns and spreading your thighs wide so he could press his face against your dewy flesh. “So sweet and unspoiled.”

“That is lovely but I require your seed… oh!” You whimpered when his forked tongue slithered through your pussy lips, your back arching and your eyes fluttering closed when the cleft in the thick muscle toyed with your clit. “Fuck.”

Ari just growled while he tasted you, savoring the sweet flavor of your virginity and watching your body writhe for him. The pleasure of soiling a virgin was unlike anything else in any of the spiritual planes, and the fact that you were offering yourself to him so willingly, even if you were a little bit sassy about it, just made everything better. He purred against your flesh before slipping his tongue inside you, his lips spreading in a grin when you cried out and kicked your little feet at the new sensation. Your body and mind were already surrendering to him, he could feel it, he could practically taste it as his tongue pushed deeper inside your wet warmth.

You could feel your core growing tighter while your body rolled against his face, your breath leaving you in small whimpers and gasps as pleasure raged through your veins. When you felt his thick tongue undulating inside you your vision went white, your toes curling and the taste of your own blood filling your mouth while you bit your lip in bliss. Your breath was heavy in your chest as you came back down, your body limp as your new demon lover rose to his knees and drew you into his lap with one massive hand.

“I had to warm you up, little witch.” Ari purred and dragged his nose along your sweat dampened temple, huffing out a laugh when you could only mumble nonsense in response as his free hand moved to line his gargantuan cock up with your creamy pussy. “Don’t want to actually break you while I’m breaking you in. Not if I plan on keeping you around.”

The way he lazily leaned back against the wall as he manhandled you should have been annoying, but the arch of his brow and arrogant smirk of his full lips only served to make your cunt drip even more. He kept licking your juices off his lips while he watched you struggle to regain some semblance of control over your mind and body, but then his thick tip slid through your pussy lips to catch at your entrance and all you could do was moan.

Ecstasy. That was the only word for the sensations that overwhelmed your body when he pushed inside you. A violent scream of pleasure escaped from you once you were completely full of him, your cunt spasming wildly around his cock. There was pain, but there was also bliss. He was bigger than anything you could even imagine, and the barbs that surrounded his shaft made you stretch even more as you arched your back and whined. Your thighs started trembling as he guided you down on his length, his free hand cupping your jaw almost tenderly when you felt your virginity tear and let out a pathetic mewl.

“Shhhh, it’s alright little one.” Ari grinned wickedly when you choked out a thin whine as he rolled his hips under yours, his hand on your waist gently keeping you upright even while his eyes glittered mischievously. “Just let every thought drain out of that pretty little head except for how good it feels. That’s it.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head when your hips finally met his, your muscles quivering with the effort of stretching to accommodate him. It should have been impossible for his cock to fit inside you completely, but it was, making you feel every one of the fleshy barbs along his shaft that would swell and throb in his release before he started to slide you up and down his length with no effort. Ari growled pleasantly when he watched your nectar and blood drip down his cock as he pulled you up so just his tip was nestled inside you, then snorted out a laugh when you yelped as he dropped you back down again. One of his thumbs started tracing the curve of your breast idly, making him grunt when your pussy clenched around him before beginning to snake his tail around your legs and between your thighs.

“What a sweet, soft little witch you’ve turned out to be. You enjoy this, don’t you?” Ari chuckled when you just nodded at him, swatting your ass with his tail and making you yelp again as he slithered the tip between your cheeks. “You will find that I enjoy when my lovers tell me how much they enjoy what I do to them with words, little one, especially when it’s their first time. Is it as wonderful as you thought it would be?”

“It’s… ohhhh, fucking Lucifer.” You dropped your head back and keened when his tail dragged through your slick before pushing inside your ass, your hands clutching at the thick fingers that held you as you felt new warmth spreading through you. “It’s… it’s incredible… so full… my lord.”

“Mmhm, and you look lovely all stretched open like this.” When you scowled a bit at that Ari laughed, sitting up so he could breathe in your scent while he nuzzled at the top of your head. “Don’t scowl little one, it’s unbecoming. And I feel as though you should call me something new now that we’re mated. Obviously not my name, I am still a lord of hell and you’re just a little witch. But why don’t you try calling me your beloved?”

“Not little.” Your pout disappeared with a gasp when he flicked your nipple with the sharp edge of his claw, not enough to make you bleed, but enough to warn you to behave as he cocked his head at you. “I’m sorry, my… my beloved.”

“That’s a good little witch.” Ari’s tail slithered deeper inside your ass at the same time he drove up into you and he purred at the noise you made, starting to move his hips regularly rather than just pump you up and down like an inanimate doll. “Why don’t you come for me, little one? Think of your new life that waits for you in the depths of hell as my mate and come for your beloved”

He ground against your clit and you could barely rasp out a ‘yes beloved’ before you were crying out in euphoria, your body arching and your cunt fluttering as everything in the world turned to bright white light. Every muscle in your body trembled and clenched while he held you upright, and it was impossible to catch your breath as you sobbed and gasped. When your mouth was still open you felt his forked tongue slide inside, your gaze finding his as you opened wider for him while his grip on your waist tightened and his movements became more determined. Ari groaned with pleasure when you swallowed his tongue, his claws scraping against your flesh at the feeling of your ultimate surrender.

You could hear him in your mind, telling you how beautiful you were, how well you were taking him and that this was what you were made for. He promised to give you as many sons and daughters as you desired, all the power you could ever dream of if you would serve and pleasure him however he wished. It was intoxicating, being full of him in every possible way. You could swear you were already feeling the warmth and static of the new power he promised you flowing through your veins and prickling your skin as you lost yourself in his touch and the depths of his silver eyes.

Ari kept his lips molded to yours when you came again with a muffled cry, cradling your body almost gently even as his hips thrust against yours faster and wilder. His tail fucked your ass while his tongue fucked your throat, your tight pussy squeezing the life out of his cock when he started to swell as you fluttered and stretched around him. He could see the plea in your eyes as you whimpered and moaned, remembering just how addictive the emotional energy of a mortal lover could be when they were overcome with pleasure. With a growl and a deep roll of his massive body he let himself go, the barbs of his cock engorging and locking him deep inside as he pumped his thick, hot seed into your fertile womb.

As soon as you felt the first gush of his cum inside you, the bonds forced on you by your mortal master disappeared, your power raging unfettered through your veins for the first time in years and making tears well in your eyes even as you grinned against Ari’s mouth. Ari felt the change and his eyes widened, the strength of your power making him appreciate you even more as he thought of the might you would pass on to your children. He let his tongue slither out of your mouth even as he kept your other two holes filled, licking his fangs as he gazed at you curiously, bending one massive leg so you could rest against his thigh.

“A strong little witch.” Ari reached out to drag his thumb over the bulge in your lower stomach where his cock was resting against your womb, smirking when he saw his cum leaking out of you and staining your thighs. “You may even survive the birth, sweet one.”

You were about to answer him when the door to your private cell was flung open, your warlock master looking even more furious when he saw you resting in the arms of your new demon lover. When you didn’t immediately cower he snarled, his fists clenching as he gathered his weak and meager magic to try to bind you again.

“You stupid little bitch!”

Whatever he had been about to say next was cut off when you raised your hand and gave an indolent flick of your wrist, smiling to yourself when he was instantly flung against the wall and pinned there, gagged with air so his mouth was forced wide open. Ari laughed at your display of power, pulling you closer and kissing the top of your head before pulling out of you so he could stand. Your former master had the good sense to flinch when the enormous demon came to stand in front of him, his eyes flitting towards you and widening with fear when Ari leaned forward to smell him.

“Weak and insignificant, I wonder how you ever managed to snare my little witch.” Ari snorted and rolled his eyes when the man pissed himself, reaching out a hand towards you and looking down to smile at you when you came to stand by his side. “I would normally punish you myself for making a slave of one of the Dark Lord’s handmaidens, but I should like to see what my sweet little one thinks you deserve. She is the mother of my child, after all. Make it quick or bring him with us, small one, I will be bringing you to your new home.”

You beamed up at him adoringly before turning to sneer at your former master, biting your lip as you ignored his muffled sobs and thought about what exactly you wanted to do to him. By the time Ari had opened a portal to the realm of Hell you had performed a quick incantation, gripping one of your lover’s hands with both of yours as he led you into the shimmering heat, your mortal captor swallowing the first of his fingers and whining as he followed the two of you before the portal winked shut and you left the mortal world behind.

[breelandwalker]

Witchcraft Exercises - Music To Witch By

(This is an expansion of a prompt I posted a while back.)

Music is a magic all its’ own. From calling up forgotten memories to stirring our deepest emotions, it moves us in ways that few other things can. Perhaps it’s no surprise that music plays a role in so many rituals and traditions, from ceremonial chants to devotional hymns to festival dances. With this in mind, why not add a little musical magic to your witchcraft?

Create a witchy playlist that helps you get into the proper headspace for spellwork. The music doesn’t have to be specifically pagan or witchcraft-related - it can be anything that inspires the appropriate mood or feeling within you, from any genre you like and for any purpose you wish.

Play music while you cleanse your working space or set up your altar or whip up a magical meal. Belt out songs that elevate your mood and fill you with energy during the morning commute. Sing to your garden to help the plants grow strong and healthy. Hum a little healing tune to a loved one who’s not feeling well to help them feel better. Listen to your favorite anthem during a quiet moment to remind you of your power or dance around your room to a harvest reel.

You can even take it a step further and make your own fullscale soundtrack. Make multiple playlists for different types of magic - something vicious and vengeful for hexing, or something soothing and mellow to help you ground and center before spellwork. Put together celebratory playlists for different holidays, with seasonal music or without. Create devotional playlists for your deities or pantheons, if you have them. Change the playlists as often as you feel the need, adding or removing songs to suit your changing tastes.

It’s up to you whether you share your playlists or just keep them to yourself. This could be a fun group activity or creative exercise if you have witchy friends that you talk shop with, or a nice under-the-radar activity for a stealth witch who can’t practice openly. In all things, remember that your practice - and the choice of the music that inspires it - are your own.

Happy Witching! 😊🎵

For more exercises to help you grow your practice, check out the masterlist here:

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[teratosfavouritesnack]

witchcraft - demon summoning - suggestive themes

You've been so lonely for far too long. You're tired to be on your own. The yearning you feel for a loving hand, a passionate embrace is overwhelming and it grows heavier day by day. You've come to a point where you can't go on with your day without breaking down, disheartened by the lack of companionship in your life. You feel pathetic... but you also know you can't go on like this any longer.

People have disappointed you far too many times you'd bear to count. You've lost faith in them; in finding a good lover, a partner for life among men. That's why you eventually decide to rely on the dark arts to fill your loneliness and quench your desire.

You've been meddling with spells for a few months now. You wouldn't call yourself a witch exactly, not yet at least, but you're not a total newbie either. It was quite easy for you to find the spell suited for your not so peculiar situation, and although it requires a level of expertise much higher than what you possess, you decide to give it a try anyway. You need to give it a try. What's the worst thing that could happen? It all might simply misfire and you'll end up all alone again. That's what you dread the most.

You gather all you need for the spell and prepare yourself for the moment that could possibly - hopefully - change your life forever. Sitting cross-legged on the floor of your room, you scatter pictures you've gathered from magazines and the Internet on the ground; they portray all kind of people with physical traits you find beautiful and attractive, traits you'd like your companion to have. Then you add a handful of herbs - cinnamon, dandelions, hibiscus, ginger, lemon balm - and a piece of clay, before you shuffle all the ingredients together. The second step is to chant your purposes. And so you sing at the top of your lungs putting your whole heart into it. Your purposes are sincere and deeply felt. You're sure the spirits will sense that and will grant your wishes. You're sure of it.

The flames from the candles placed all around your room start to tremble, casting elongated shadows along the four walls. You can hear disembodied voices chanting back at you. You can feel them inside you, rising, growing, demanding something. They don't speak your language and yet, you know precisely what they ask of you. To fully bond the companion to you, you must mark it, claim it, make it yours. You need to put your very essence into it. And so, without hesitation, your hand slides under your dress, coming into direct contact with your already dripping wet folds. You came prepared to not waste time. You gather your fluids and then drag your slick fingers all over the pictures. Then you collect saliva in your mouth and spit it out on the clay. Lastly, you grab a pin and draw a drop of blood from the pad of your finger, spilling it on the herbs. Once you've smeared your bodily fluids all over the ingredients, you close your eyes and resume your chanting. It only takes a minute until you hear the voices answer once again. They sound louder this time; booming voices that reverberate through your ribcage making you shudder, but not in fear. A smile blooms on your face, your body tingling all over. It's such a pervasive and elated sensation... almost like an orgasm.

The flames of the candles tremble again, harder than before; you can see them dancing on the walls through your closed eyelids. The air around you grows dense. The room seems to move, as if you're stumbling through the dark, intoxicated and almost blinded. Your chest tightens and you feel like you can't breathe anymore. There's no oxygen in the room. It's like everything is on stand-by, waiting for something to happen. For someone to come. Your body shakes, lungs straining, screaming for air. Your eyes snap open and you watch wide-eyed as the room spins all around you, faster, faster, until it abrutly stops, blowing out the candles and leaving you nauseous and dizzy.

A shuddering and loud gasp falls from your mouth as you find yourself able to breathe again. Your hands collide with the floor before you as you quiver and pant heavily. You're sure you almost got yourself killed. Something must have gone wrong, you must have made a mistake at some point... You don't know! You can't see anything, you can't hear anything. You grope blindly at the mess you made to cast the spell; the clay is still just a piece of clay. It should have changed by now! Moulded into the spitting image of your perfect partner. But instead... everything is as it was. It didn't work... You almost died for nothing. You can feel your thoat clenching, your eyes stinging with upcoming tears... It didn't work.

But then... you see something that makes you freeze. Two glowing eyes staring at you from the darkness. They stand low in a corner of the room just opposite you and almost look feline-like. For a moment you think you might have crafted a pet companion instead and you feel some relief in that notion. But that relief is quickly replaced by horror as you hear a grave warm voice booming from the darkness and turning your blood to ice.

"Is it you? Are you the mortal who summoned me?"

"S-s-summoned?" Your voice is as thin as a sheet of paper as you echo back the word. There was no mention of summoning or anything related to that in your spell. Well, not that you remember of... "I wasn't... I didn't-"

The eyes glow brighter as the voice cracks into a laugh, seemingly amused by your reaction.

"You reek of ignorance and..." You hear sniffling. "Foolishness."

You watch paralysed as the eyes start to ascend, rising higher and higher, until they come to hover at least two meters from the floor. What is that?

The voice laughs again, mockingly. "What's the matter? Why so shocked? You haven't seen anything yet, my dear fool."

So it sees you. Whatever that is, it can see you through the pitch black darkness that has swallowed up your room. You have no words. No words to describe what's happening right in front of your eyes. This isn't what should have happened. This is far from the idyllic ending you prospected. Your beautiful, perfectly crafted lover should be standing before you now, ready to cherish you, adore you, worship you...

"I'm afraid you made one too many mistakes to hope to attach your frivolous fantasies on me."

You're speechless. Frozen in terror. Barely able to breathe.

What have you done?

What have you... summoned?"

You can't see it, but you can feel it. You can feel the energy coming off of it. It's powerful. Way more powerful than you. You can't even compare to it.

The glowing eyes seem to silently appraise you, staring straight at you as they hover by the ceiling. You feel bare under such an intese and probing gaze. It's as if it can read your every thought, your every secret, your every desire. It's like it knows you, everything about you. But you don't know anything about it.

"You did manage to do something right, however." It announces, its tone still laced with the taunting edge it had before. "The hardest thing to accomplish, nonetheless."

You jolt as the eyes seem to come closer, to approach you. If you weren't already sitting down, you're sure you would have dropped on the floor by now.

"You... bonded me to you. Marked me. Claimed me. I am yours!" the voice booms, echoing through the room and sending your heart into a frenzy.

"You can't command me." It adds, its tone less harsh but stomach-churning nonetheless. "However, I will serve you."

You gulp as the eyes move even closer, so close that you have to crane your neck up, unable - even if willing - to tear your wide-eyed gaze away. You're not sure what it's saying. Its words make little to no sense to your fuzzy mind. You can even barely hear past your thundering heartbeat. But you believe you picked up on something; apparently, you didn't completely mess it all up. In your ignorance, your foolishness and hastiness, you managed to bond this... creature to you even though you won't have any control over it like you would have had on a clay dummy brought to life. This is a sentient being who will willingly - as much as a summoned creature might still be able to willingly do anything - serve you.

Gods. You can't wrap your mind around this intricate mess... You screwed up, that really goes without saying.

"H-How?" You manage to stutter out in a whisper, finding your voice again, even if only a thread of it. Despite your wobbling legs you're able to pull yourself up and stand somewhat still in front of the dark. "The bond... I mean... How did I manage to...?"

The glowing eyes follow your every move, twinkling slightly in... amusement? Scorn? Disdain? Surprise? You wish you knew.

"Your essence." it answers, placidly. Its tone so warm it nearly has you melting in a puddle. "It was too sweet, too delicious. Powerful." Its voice grows agitated as it adds, "I can still taste it on my tongue."

You gulp. Your essence...? Your... bodily fluids. On its tongue. Too sweet? Too delicious?

Oh.

You can clearly feel it. Yes, rising in your belly. A hot fizzling sensation starting to pool there. It's different than usual. It's a mix. A potent, overwhelming mix of fear and arousal.

You hear that sniffling again and before you have time to react, you find yourself engulfed by darkness, clenched in an unvisible but very tangible grasp. A low rumbling growl vibrates against your chest, reverbereting through your stomach and settling straight in your core.

The glowing eyes are mere inches away from your face now. They bore right through you, sending thrills coursing along your spine. How you're still managing to breathe and mantain your consciousness is beyond you.

The creature sniffles again. Your eyelids flutter and your breathing falters as you feel something akin to a warm breath tingling the side of your neck.

"I am driven by it." It whispers upon your skin, making every hair stand on end. Your knees buckle under you, your body shuddering in ...pleasure? Terror? You can't separate the two anymore. You can only focus on the clench tightening around you as if to support you, and on the wet feeling of something long and forked lapping at your neck, traveling along your collarbones, up your throat, stopping just a breath from your mouth. Your soul has positively left your body.

You're but putty in the darkness' hold.

"I will need to feed on it. Every day. Until your last breath."

Claws settle at the nape of your neck, scraping at your scalp and tangling in your hair while keeping your head still.

"But..."

The forked tongue trails the outline of your quivering bottom lip, making your breath hitch. The glowing hypnotic eyes seem to brighten even harder, filled with pure hunger as they stare down at you.

"Let's start with now..."

🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me

[blackleatherjacketz]

Shadow and Sin: Chapter 10

Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having recently moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they are until it's too late.

This Chapter: The powers that be reveal that they've been pulling the strings all along, and you're forced to finally choose a brother.

Warnings: Mature Content, Love Triangle, Klaus' Filthy Mouth, Violence, Blood, Knives, Cutting, Blood Drinking, Witchcraft

Word Count: 3.6k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

“Oh good, you’re awake!” A woman’s voice rings in your ears, echoing off the walls of the room that you open your eyes in. It’s an older southern accent, it’s pitch and volume signaling that she’s standing only a few feet away from where you sit, even if you can’t see her just yet. “You must be exhausted from entertaining two of the world’s most lethal vampires for the past few weeks. I’ll bet you needed that rest.”

“Excuse me?” You blink a few times and try to focus on what’s around you, noticing the chill of night and the steady drip of water leaking down from the roof a few dozen feet behind you. It drips in a slow, unchanging rhythm, surpassed only by the increasing beat of your heart as panic begins to settle in, stifling your breath along with it.

Oh great, you’ve been taken.

“Where am I?!” The smell of rust and sage surrounds you as the rest of your senses start to kick back in, your eyes now focused enough to take in the barren walls towering over you, flanked by rows of boarded up windows with all sorts of symbols painted on them as outdated newspaper clippings peel off their corners. It doesn’t take long to figure out that you’re in an abandoned warehouse out in the middle of nowhere.

“I almost feel sorry for having to put you through all of this, baby.” The voice comes again, this time curving around your right side as it gets closer with each click of her heels against the concrete floor. “Almost.”

You turn your head to look at her, to put a face to that voice which taunts you, but quickly realize that it’s the only thing that you can physically do. You can’t turn your torso at all in the chair that you’re tied to, the tightly bound ropes digging into your wrists, chest and ankles as you try to move your limbs in a painfully futile attempt at freedom.

Holy shit, you’re not going anywhere! This is bad… REALLY bad.

“What do you mean, feel sorry for me?! Did you really knock me out and bring me here? Kidnap me?” You ask, absolutely dumbfounded. “People still do that?” You have to admit that out of all the absolutely insane things you’ve witnessed recently, this is the most incredible. You expected there to be violence from your immortal suitors in your immediate future, but kidnapping? Well, you didn’t predict that at all. She must be one of their enemies, one of the people Klaus had trained his men to protect you from. Lot of good that did. “Who are you?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter who I am, child.” The woman steps in front of you, her dark hair littered with streaks of gray as it falls down onto her shoulders dressed in a colorful linen dress. She holds a stick of sage in front of her as she chants indistinguishable words beneath her breath, the white smoke wafting off of it slowly thinning into the stale air around you both. “All that matters now is you and the part you still have to play.”

“Look, I don’t know what I did to offend you, or what ancient tradition I broke, but whatever it was, it was an accident. I’m sorry, I swear to God, I promise I am! I was on my way out of the city anyways, I’m not even staying in town anymore after today, so none of this is really even necessary! We can just forget about this and all go home. Both of us.” You try to plead your case as she continues walking circles around you, her chants getting a little louder as you notice the large ring of salt around the bulk of the room.

Shit. She’s a witch. Another one of Klaus’ warnings that you should have heeded… but how? What would you have done differently besides ask more questions about how to avoid them? Would he have even answered them for you?

“Oh honey, I wish it were that simple,” she smiles somberly, amused by your ignorance. “But I still need you to bring them here for me.” She sets her sage down somewhere that you can’t see, its earthy scent still lingering in your nostrils before she comes back into your field of vision. “Which shouldn’t be that hard at this point. I was planning on waiting a little longer before doing all this, planning to let you bond with them both just a little bit more, to really twist that knife. But you had to go and wise up, now didn’t you?” She shakes her head and laughs.

“What are you talking about?” You force your wrists upward again, testing the strength of the ropes one more time as their frayed strings cut into your skin, drawing little droplets of blood out in the process. “Wise up to what? Is this about Klaus, about Elijah?”

She nods. “A little slow, aren’t we, child? Did you honestly think that both of the original vampires could fall in love with ‘little old you’ at the exact same time? That it was mere coincidence that these two wildly different monsters wound up in your bed absolutely smitten with their little nurse?” She pulls out a phone… your phone that she had to have taken from you sometime between leaving your brother’s place and tying you up here. She holds it up to your face to unlock it and then turns it around to take your picture. “Smile for the camera.”

Wait, WHAT?! Is she saying that everything you’ve experienced in the past few weeks has been nothing more than a lie? A spell? A curse? But how could she do that? How could that BE?!

The flash nearly blinds you in your devastated stupor, forcing your eyelids to close as you hear her fingers type away on the digital keyboard of your smartphone, your eyes finally adjusting enough to see her grinning the entire time.

“You put a spell on me?” You venture a guess as your heart feels like it’s being torn in two, each tattered piece slowly sinking down to the very bottom of your chest.

How can what you feel for them not be real?

“The spell I cast is for all three of you, actually. It was the only way that any of this could work, and despite your little hiccup with the time frame, I think it will all work out in my favor.” She smirks with a tilt of her head. “Only one of them has true feelings for you, and you for them. But in order to find out which one, to break the spell, you have to choose one of them.”

“What? No… no, that’s not fair!” You scream shakily, the pain in your chest taking root in your stomach as nausea bubbles beneath the surface. You’ve already weighed the pros and cons of choosing one of them, and neither result is favorable. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why would anyone do this? You may have just moved here, child, but vampires and the Mikaelson family have been terrorizing the people of New Orleans for centuries; killing innocent people like my Charlotte just to get a meal, or simply for their own entertainment! I needed a way to divide their house, a way to tear their family apart from the inside out, and what better way to do it than with a pretty girl like you in their beds? Once they get here and find out the dirty truth, they’ll have no other choice but to destroy each other.”

“You’re sick, you know that?” Your lip quivers in fear, realizing now that you’re going to die here in this empty warehouse as you imagine the very worst ways for that to happen.

She puts your phone back in her pocket as it vibrates almost immediately, a smug look gracing her aging features as she glances up at you in silence, refusing to answer. She gives you a look that no one else has ever given you before, a look that shakes you to the very marrow of your bones; as if somehow you’re the answer to all of her malevolent prayers.

“Please!” You beg again, a single tear falling down your cheek as your sinuses begin to fill with a sick sorrow. You feel your heart race as the taste of bile backs up into your mouth as you watch her pull a large knife out of her bag, its blade glinting in the dim candlelight. “I don’t even know you! I’ll forget your face! I’ll leave them both alone, I swear, you’ll never see me again!”

You watch in awe and devastation as she raises the knife up into the air before cutting into her own palm, letting her blood drip onto the array of random objects and ingredients she has scattered on the floor.

“It’s too late for all that now, child. They’ll be here soon.” Her tone is cold and flat as she steps toward you, her blood glistening a ruby red on the blade before she drags it across both of your arms.

It stings at first, the piercing pain searing into each layer of your skin before cutting through to the muscle. Your own scream surprises you at first as it vibrates in your throat, nearly deafening you as it bounces off the empty walls of the warehouse. More tears stream their way down your reddened cheeks as she pulls the knife away, swiftly disappearing from sight as the pain from your wounds simmers into a low, heated throb. Your bound hands are unable to do anything to stop her or subdue the bleeding as it spills onto your thighs, staining your jeans a deep burgundy before the rest of it drips onto the floor in an off beat of the leaky ceiling.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

This is it, isn’t it?

——————

“It’s okay, I’m here now.” Elijah’s voice suddenly distracts you from the growing pain as it radiates up your arms, his nimble fingers making quick work of untying your right wrist.

Oh thank God, you think, just before remembering the rest of the witch’s plan. Uh-oh.

“Elijah, I’m so sorry.” You mumble, the rope digging deeper into your skin before it eventually eases up and releases your arm altogether.

“Shhh, don’t be sorry. I should have been here sooner. I should never have put you in any kind of danger.” His voice is tinged with a hint of fear and regret as he unties your other wrist and immediately bites into his, bringing it up to your lips to drink.

You open your mouth and swallow it without question, knowing that his blood will help heal your wounds and give you strength as he kneels to untie your ankles. You can feel it working almost immediately as the pain begins to dull, then subsides completely as your skin seems to stitch itself back together right before your eyes. You’ll never get used to that.

“There, you’re free.” Elijah gets up off his knees and reaches his hand out for you to take, a confused look knitting his brows together as you refuse to take it. “What is it?”

You can’t help but stare at Klaus as he storms through the entrance of the warehouse, his presence sealing your fate as he fulfills the requirements for the witch’s twisted revenge plot. His dirty blonde curls fall in front of his eyes as he takes in everything from your healing injuries, the tears on your cheeks to his brother’s blood smeared across your lips to tell enough of the story for him to clench his jaw in frustration.

“What’s all this, then?” Klaus’ tone is cold and dismissive as he waltzes toward you, noticing the familiarity between you and his brother while Elijah still reaches for your hand.

You remain speechless as you watch the wheels in his head spin, each cog fitting into the next as he puts all the pieces of the puzzle together, setting the blue of his eyes ablaze in an infernal, glowing yellow. But just as he’s about to open his mouth to speak, to yell and scream at you and Elijah, he steps into the circle of salt, igniting the candles that surround it with a nearly deafening WHOOSH.

Elijah flinches just slightly as the flames grow taller, turning reluctantly toward his brother, “Niklaus, what are you doing here?”

Niklaus? Who the hell is Niklaus?

“What am I doing here, you ask?” Klaus laughs, casually pointing to you as if you’re nothing more than a mere piece of furniture as you sit there, frozen in fear. “Well, I could ask you the same thing, dear brother. I just got a message that my lovely little protégé was being held here against her will, and here you are, so quick to swoop in and play the hero once again.” He smirks, tapping that pointed finger against his lips as he continues. “You know, I’m beginning to think that your desire to save her is fueled by much more than just your noble oath of ‘always and forever’.”

“Your protege?” Elijah’s breath catches in his throat as he looks at you before glancing back at his brother, eyes shining with the realization you’d hoped he’d never come to.

FUCK.

“You’ve been seeing her, too?” The hurt in Elijah's voice is everything you dreaded it to be, another painful stab in the series of a thousand tiny cuts that you’ve endured tonight. You watch him take a deep cleansing breath, shifting the weight in his hips as he tries to regain his composure before speaking again. “For how long?”

“Well, why don’t you ask her?” Klaus leans forward and grabs onto your neck with a nearly deadly squeeze, lifting you up so far out of your seat that your legs begin to dangle. “How long after I pulled out of you did you let my brother slip inside, hmmm? Did you even allow the paint to dry on your skin before letting him into your bed? How far did my come drip down between your thighs before you so desperately helped him out of his three piece suit, whore?!”

“Klaus…” You attempt to explain yourself as he squeezes even tighter, the betrayal in his eyes shifting to anger as your hands frantically grasp onto his fingers. “I didn’t know you were… it wasn’t my fault!” You gasp for air as he lifts you even higher, his strength so much greater than you could have ever imagined.

“I’m sorry, love, what was that? It sounded like you were trying to speak.” Klaus’ eyes glow gold again as the veins around them darken and engorge with blood, showing you a side of him you’ve never seen before as fangs descend from his canines. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Enough, Niklaus!” Elijah finally stops him, releasing his grip with a mere pinch to his brother’s wrist. “I don’t like this anymore than you do, but this is clearly some sort of… witch’s plot meant to trap us here. Perhaps we should focus on that instead of our menial transgressions against one another.”

Menial? Do you mean that little to Elijah? Does he even care?

Klaus stares at you like a lion would an antelope beneath its paw, ready for the kill at any point, but after what seems like an eternity of torment, he eventually softens. “Very well.” Klaus’ features return to normal before loosening his grip on your neck, gently lowering you back onto the chair as a growl brews just beneath the surface of his words. “After all, you always know best, now don’t you, brother?”

“She put a curse on all three of us! She needed to pit you two against each other!” You push your words out as fast as you can in your now gravelly voice, rubbing your palm across your neck to soothe the irritated skin.

Jesus!

“What else did she say?” Elijah consoles you with a palm to your cheek before pulling back a second later, feeling Klaus’ eyes on you both.

“She said that only one of you has real feelings for me. That I only have feelings for one of you. But we won’t find out who, we won’t be able to leave the circle until…” You choke up a little as they both stare at you with rapt attention. “Until I choose someone.”

Elijah clenches his jaw as Klaus huffs.

“Well, I say we get on with it then, love!” Klaus lifts his arms up in the air like the dramatic showman that he is. “Why waste any more precious time to chance?” He steps in close to watch every micro expression on your face as you wrestle with the pain and heartbreak of this zero-sum game that you’ve been forced to play with them. “Ticktock, darling.”

“I can’t…” you look into his eyes as he closes the space between you, your whole body trembling with the anticipation of what’s to come before looking over at Elijah for guidance. “I can’t possibly choose.”

“I see,” Klaus nods with a whisper, pressing his lips together as he pulls back from you slightly, his anger still simmering just below the surface. “Let me make it easy for you then.” He grins before instantly reaching back and snapping his brother’s neck with a loud CRACK, all while keeping his eyes fixated on you.

You gasp as Elijah’s limp body falls to the floor, your eyes darting back and forth between the two brothers dozens of times as fear immobilizes you completely, nearly paralyzing your lungs.

“I would have given you everything! Can’t you see that?” Tears blur in his eyes, making that deep blue seem a slight shade of green in the glowing candlelight. “How could you even think of choosing him after what he shared together? Just so you can be judged for every mistake, ridiculed for every flaw and controlled for the rest of your life? I would have let you be who you were meant to be! I would have helped you grow!” Those tears stream down his cheeks in tragic trails of saline, dripping down onto the floor as they mix in with your blood near his boots. “I would have loved you no matter what!!!”

His scream nearly shakes your entire body, triggering your lungs to expand again enough to take a gasping breath. You aren’t sure what to say, or what to do next, afraid that no matter what course of action you take, it will lead you down a road that ends up just like Elijah’s. So you decide to take a page out of his favorite book, to try to appeal to the monster before you.

“I was the one who had my brother look you up.” You confess, figuring you might as well tell him the whole truth. “I was scared that I was falling too fast for you, and I wanted to be sure that you were real, but when he came up with nothing… no driver’s license, no property, no nothing, I freaked out.” You pause and see the tension release a bit in his shoulders, urging you to keep talking. “I’ve been lied to a lot in the past, and I didn’t want to go through that pain again. I know now that I should have confronted you and asked you about it myself, but before I had the chance, we were attacked by those men warning us to forget your name. You can imagine why I didn’t come back to see you after that.”

Klaus’ maddening mask of anger morphs into a sullen shade of hurt as his tears curve down the outline of his pouty lips, reminding you of the champagne from the night you first met. He lets those tears fall down his face as he gently strokes your hair, searching your expression for any signs of deceit, but unable to find any.

“So you fuck my brother instead, thinking he’s the better, safer choice, hmm?”

Damn. So much for honesty.

“Klaus, please,” you beg, your tone changing to one of nervous desperation. “It was the curse, the spell… the witch, she…”

“And where is this witch now, hmm? How do I know you aren’t actively working with her to destroy me? That you haven’t been conspiring against me with my brother from the very second you stepped foot in New Orleans?” He cradles your face with both hands, an act that might normally be mistaken for intimacy, but in this case is clearly a threat.

“She was here just a second ago, I swear!” You feel your breath become more rapid and shallow as his fingers press against your scalp, this newly heightened state of stress dizzying you as he tightens his grasp. “Can’t you read my mind or something? Isn’t that one of your powers?” You offer up in a last ditch effort of transparency, hoping to God that all the vampire movies you’ve watched up until now haven’t led you astray.

He smirks as he watches you struggle, licking his lips before leaning in close enough to whisper into your ear. “I’ve got a better idea, one that’ll make your body choose once and for all.”

He bites into your neck without hesitation, pulling you in as close as possible as his fangs sink deep into your flesh, swallowing what little blood you have left. The pain is so much different than the cut from the witch’s knife, the sensation of his lips and tongue massaging your skin lulling you into a false sense of euphoria as you drift off to sleep.

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

Tags: @hcqwxrtss123 @hayleym1234 @derangedangel @spnaquakindgdom @natalie668 @arbesa-mind

[icanseethefuture333]

PAC: What are your siren powers & qualities? 🧜🏽‍♀️🐚🌊

In these piles there is adult themes so just be wary of some of the content 🤍 Please leave a tip if you can! 😇 $$$

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Lullaby by GWSN

New You by Zolita

How U Want It by Rochelle Jordan

Six of Swords "Knowledge", The Devil, & Nine of Cups "Joy"

What's interesting Pile 1, is that a song by Zolita came on, and she actually practices witchcraft. So you could be into the occult and practice magick or that is the vibes that you give off. You could visit people in their dreams or you have the power to have influence on people's dream, which is insane! You could have Pisce and air placements (Gemini, Libra, & Aquarius). You have a strong hold of people's subconscious and linger in people's minds. I'm getting like restless nights, tired energy, and I feel people stay up because they have racing thoughts about you. You could have a very soft and gentle appearance as well. You give off an air of mystery and it's like "wow I didn't know this girl could have so much power me???". You could have ex partners who wish they could have you back as well. Your eyes are very magnetizing. I feel that you should get into doing glamour magick, mirror magick, and chants or written spells. I feel that you get downloads from the universe, so you have a divine higher power. Also you could speak your desires out into the world and they manifest instantly. I'm getting like a lot of Mercury and Neptune energy. Very imaginative, alluring, and perceptive. (Clarified by Twof Cups "Love") You could also use psychology for seduction (I'm thinking of Robert Greene's books like "48 Laws of Powers" or "The Art of Seduction", so maybe you have read those or should lol). People just can't help but fall for you.

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Mrs. Variety by Leon Thomas, Ft. Tayla Parx

Goodies by Ciara, Ft. Petey Pablo

She Bad by Cardi B, Ft. YG

Strength, Two of Wands "exploration", & Three of Wands "domination"

Okay so this pile is definitely my fire sign (heavy on Aries but also Leo & Sagittarius) pile or my Virgos (Tayla Parx said in the song "Have you ever fucked wit a virgo?"). You guys have a bad bitch mentality and refuse to settle for anything less. Cardi says in the song "I'm a boss in a skirt, I'm a dog, I'm a flirt". So I feel that you like to be a tease when you flirt with people and then leave them looking stupid. You just like to have fun and you know you're not obligated to do anything you don't want to. This could put people in their feelings because it's like "we were just flirting and then they don't even wanna go out with me?". Which honestly, period - you owe nothing to nobody. I'm getting like this coquette energy, where you like to be in male spaces, and you're better at it than them. Whether that's sports, politics, debates, etc. You have a strong dark feminine, masculine energy and it's incredible. I heard "spicy 🔥🌶" so you could even be a hot head and people find that so sexy 😂. You also like to wear red and black. You mainly like to dress in sports wear or a t-shirt and jeans but when you go out you show tf out. "Mrs. Variety" you know how to glam up for the occasion and it puts people in a trance. Some people could even think like "wow I didn't know they had a body like that" or "damn they look fine as hell when they get all fancy". So maybe when you go out to parties, dinners, or dates you could put on a nice suit or dress with heels. (Clarified by Seven of Wands "bravery") You guys are very brave and courageous. That intimidates people but you have a very high standards and you value yourself so keep working towards your goals!

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Who Hurt You? by Daniel Caesar

Haunting by Halsey

Long Nights by 6lack

The Hermit, The Empress, & The Moon

Oh myyyyy 🤭😏 so this could be only for some of the people in this pile but y'all could be ladies/people of the night 😂? I'm getting that you could be an... "accountant" (sw) and if you're not, you would be so successful at it (if you're a minor then this message ain't for y'all, so dont be thinking about being like Kat from Euphoria 💀). For some reason you come off as very sad though or you look like you're sad to some people. You could have dark circles or your eyes tend to look watery/puffy. Some of you could deal with depression as well (I'm sorry baby I know that can be hard to deal with ❤️‍🩹). You could be unhappy with the current position you are in your life and are wishing for change. You could be working at a "dead end job" and you could be saving money, hoping that you can eventually quit one day. You have people who wish they could "save" you from what you're going through in life. I feel like your power could honestly playing into this "damsel in distress" role to get what you want. This pile reminds of Meg fron Hercules when she said "I'm a damsel *grunts*, I'm in distress, I can handle it, have a nice day~". Like even if you're fine and nothing is wrong, they feel they could give you better than what you currently have or got going on. People just have such a strong desire to help you. You are also very beautiful and you could be an introvert perhaps? There could be Cancer, Libra, & earth sign (Heavy Taurus & Capricorn but also Virgo) placements in your birth chart. You like to be alone or do activities that don't require being in social settings. For example, if other people wanted to go to the club, you would rather be at home, work, library, museum, cafe, etc. You don't like to do anything that requires you to force yourself to get out of bed and interact with bed you probably never gonna see again (valid btw 💀). You prefer to be around close friends, family, coworkers, etc. As I was saying earlier though, you have a lot of secret admirers, pile 3 👀. You could look really pretty in the moonlight as well or people want you sexually at night time 😳. You probably the type of person who gets a lot of booty calls or texts and you're like "why me???". It's just you have a connection to the darker side of people and yourself. You provide this healing energy to people and you exude such divine feminine energy, that's very rare to experience in this lifetime. You could be nurturing to your loved ones as well and for people who aren't close to you, they wish they could receive that love as well. You could be creative too and like to either dance, paint, read, write, etc. (Clarified by Ace of Earth (Pentacles).) Now did I not just mention "accountants"?! Lmao 😭 For the people who are working and are in need of some money. You're gonna get a promotion or a new job soon. You have a very seductive body language and aura, I feel like you could use that for some cash ifykwm 👀👀👀 I'm not saying flirt in the workplace but ya know, don't be afraid to wear your hair a certain way, sway your hips, bite your lip, etc 😌 your clientele would much appreciate the "fanservice" 💅🏽

Pile 4:

Shufflemancy -

No Scrubs by TLC

Enough For Love by Kelela

Balenciaga by Princess Nokia (This song came out in 2019 💀)

Three of Cups "abundance", Four of Cups "Comfort", & Seven of Swords "Deception"

This is very interesting and unique. So pile 4, I feel like you don't care for trends but you know how dress down. The song keeps talking about "drip" so you're styling, you naturally have this swag that nobody else. Whether it's your clothes, the way your carry yourself, or your aura - you're just cool as fuck. You know how to budget and you understand that you don't gotta spend a lot of money to look fabulous but when you do, everything just fits you just right. People could think you're (or you are) very wealthy because of this. I'm reminded of that video Cardi B posted when she said some of her pieces were like a hundreds of dollars and ome thing would be like 20-30$ ("Learn how to budget hoe!" Lol). People could even feel like shocked or duped by that too like "oh you're not a millionaire but have this" or "that outfit is that cheap? It looks so good". A lot of people have this misconcept that being rich means you know how to dress and trust me... I've seen a lot of celebrities wear terrible outfits. When it comes to fashion, you are a expert honey. I'm thinking of that song by Migos: "My bitch is bad and boujee". In your dating life, you refuse to date people who don't have a plan, or don't wish to take care of you financially. For example, if you're on a date, and you pay for one date, you'd be okay, but if the other person continously just mooches of you, you'd cut them off with the quickness. So you only date people who are "high value" and can add substance to your life. (Clarified by Six of Swords "Success") You are private when it comes your money, goals, and achievements. I feel that you are like a "humble bragger". You like to work in silence snd let the results show for yourself. If not, you should start learning how to do that. It can protect you from the evil eye 🧿!

Pile 5:

Shufflemancy -

Honey by Riri

Slow Down by Normani & Calvin Harris

You Got Me by The Roots, Ft. Erykah Badu

Seven of Cups "illusion", The Lovers, & Ace of Air (swords)

This pile's energy is reminding me of Sade. I'm getting a very classy, refined, and sensual vibe to you pile 5. Sade could be one of your favorite artists as well or you like to listen to smooth jazz, r&b, soft rock, or any song that's typically more mellow. You could be old fashioned as well and desire a more traditional relationship. You either are in a relationship right now or you dream of finding that special someone and being with them for the rest of your life. I'm hearing the lyrics "will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful" by Lana Del Rey and some of the people that chose this pile could be older in age or they are more mature than others their age. You have a deep soul and it entraps people, an enigma. You could like to take it slow when it comes to love and that makes the people you date drawn to you even more. I'm being reminded of Mariah Carey when she says in her song: "I can't be elusive with you, honey". You are able to communicate clearly to others what your needs are and if they aren't being met, you have no issue with leaving because you know that you deserve better - Whether at work or in your relationships. In your past, you could have experienced a lot of disappointments due to your expectations not being met. I'm also seeing that people have fantasies about being in a relationship with you and see you as a good potential for marriage. (Clarified by The High Priestess) You attract others to you when focusing on your spiritual path. I feel that you are most abundant when you are connected to your higher self and follow what makes you happy. People feel drawn to you when you are the best version of yourself.

Pile 6:

Shufflemancy -

Dreamcatcher by Metro Boomin Ft. Swae Lee

Te Amo by Rihanna

Somewhere I Belong by Linkin Park

The Chariot, Ace of Water, & Death

I feel that this is my queer pile. Some of you might be sapphic/attracted to those of the same sex or you attract others from the same sex. You could be flirtatious when you have the courage (maybe even liquid courage?). You could be very persuasive and charming, it's a turn on for people 😂. If you're not lgbtq+, then I feel like you give very "sus" compliments to others. For example, you ever see girls in another girls' comment sections? You would think that they're gay by the shit they be saying 😭. I feel like you make friends or attract lovers easily because you have such a likeable personality. You're funny, friendly, and supportive so you make people feel good inside. Although, I feel that you guys have trouble with your relationships. When you like someone you get all these butterflies and stutters when you are around someone you really like. So even though you like them you're afraid to tell them how you feel. To make sure that person doesn't know you just act nonchalant and pretend that you're online looking to have fun and nothing serious. "I'm here for a good time not a long time" basically. I'm reminded of Danny from Grease, he was totally smitten for Sandy but he didn't want to let go of his tough guy image for her. Where instead of you having a tough guy image, you use your sense of humor for protection out of your own of fear of rejection or heartbreak. I feel that growing up your interests, sexuality, or personality was different from the rest so it could have made you feel lonely or isolated as well. You wanted to find a place where you belong and so you had to find your own group of people that you can connect with and feel close to. (Clarified by The Sun) I'm seeing partying, dancing, one night stands, make outs, the "Suck and Blow" game, etc. You guys are just wild, pile 6 😂! You change people's lives forever after interacting with you. I'm getting like "drunk girl in the bathroom that's my bestie for the night". You become a "core memory" to people because of your uplifting personality and silly jokes. If people feel down in their lives or really depressed. People suddenly remember the things that you did for them and it cheers them up. You are a beam of light for others in their darkest hours!

Pile 7:

Shufflemancy -

LEFT RIGHT by XG

From Time by Drake

N.E.R.D - Kites

Daughter of Fire, Nine of Cups "Joy", & Two of Cups "Love"

Pile 7, I feel the way you dress has pieces of your culture involved. Your style could be very bohemian as well. I'm seeing tribal tattoos, beads, neck pieces, sarongs, and feathers. You could be very passionate when it comes to what you believe in. You also seem to be proud of your heritage. For some people in this pile, you could be artists. You could be dancers, actors, in theater, do pottery, work with clay, or paint. I see that you are very talented with your hands. Maybe some of you even make jewelry or know how to sew clothes. Your skin could glow in the sun or it's just naturally radiant and beautiful. You could also be kind of cheeky and vivacious 🤭. People find thatt so adorable and endearing. You could like to make people blush or find people's reactions funny when you mess with them. I'm reminded of Joy from Red Velvet. She has this like "I'm hot and I know it" mindset or is well known for being "cutie-sexy" and it's refreshing. You could also be a really good kisser 😚 or you have these plump lips that people wish they could get a kiss from 💋 I'm also seeing licking or biting so you could do this with your lips or to others 🥵 This pile reminds me of the love interests in the movies and it seems that everyone just really likes you, pile 7. You're the Mary Jane to people's Peter Parker/Spiderman. (Clarified by Three of Cups "Abundance") What did I just say?! You have so many people who want to offer you a love proposal or ask you out on a date. I feel that you guys are aware of manifestation and have a positive self concept. You could practice law of the assumption and just affirm/assume that you're highly favored and desired. If you need a confirmation that what you're doing is working - It is, stand in your power ✨️

Pile 8:

Shufflemancy -

Niki - Spell

Stray Kids - Deep End by Felix

Shilpa - Selfish

The Fool, Mother of Air, & Three of Pentacles ("Work")

I feel that in your relationships you have been selfless and devoted. You express your love with acts of service and quality time. Expressions of emotional intimacy could make you uncomfortably possibly (reflect as to why!). You are logical and intelligent. You may enjoy reading and writing. (Clarified by Daughter of Air) Growing up your parents could have been strict and were very traditional. You could have done well academically in classes (the girl in this card has a sword, you could be "cut throat" with your words, some of you could been in debate club?). Your voice commands just attention. I feel as you got older and gained more of your independence. You began to rebel from your parents rules and expectations, discovering who you truly are without other people's influence. NSFW warning but I believe people would love to be degraded by you 👁👁? Some of you could be dominant sexually or be a dominatrix. While also balancing it with this maternal energy? ("Mommy? Sorry- Mommy? Sorry-"). Or your style has elements of fetishwear (harnesses, leather, boots, etc). I feel that people who are involved with you romantically/sexually just become like your litte worker bees while you're the queen. I can also see that you're noncommittal as of right now or just exploring your options. This upsets people greatly because you have a great amount of secret admirers who would love to be your partner. You could get late night calls or text messages from exes and you're just like so over it (which is understandable 😂). Your cold and dismissive attitude just draws people toward you. I'm reminded of Jennie from Blackpink or Heather from Total Drama. They both have dark hair, cat like facial features, and their expressions are just effortlessly cool and confident (you could possibly have these features also). You fit into that "pretty mean girl" trope.

Pile 9:

Shufflemancy -

Qveen Herby - BDE

Retronaut - Talk

Lauren Jauregui - Em(oceans)

Eight of Cups ("Despair"), Strength, & The Emperor

I feel the people in this pile has luscious hair and something about it could be shiny or radiant (some of you have wavy hair or the texture is soft or silky). Your features could look ethereal or possibly be androgynous. You have a balance of feminine and masculine energy. Your nose, cheekbones, and jawline structure could be prominent and defined. I feel that the people in this pile are like a Phoenix, they have suffered in silence, and had to rise from the ashes. You don't let people see you suffer and so you let yourself heal in silence. When people hear your story and learn about what you've been through, they gain so much admiration for you. They'd never suspect to such things happen and therefore it's like they gain respect, while others think you had it easy. People wonder how you got all this success but what they don't understand is that you had to literally come from the mud in order to become this pearl that washed onto shore. You did your part and fought for your power, which I commend you so much for pile 9. You are like this beautiful warrior, you carry so much strength and bravery inside of you. What's also attractive about you is how you set boundaries and change the topic when someone becomes too invasive with your questions. You are stoic and a mountain that can't be moved with just meer charm, if a lover wanted to impress you, they would have to do more than that. (Clarified by Ace of Swords) I feel that the people in this pile could be sapiosexuals. Someone who is passionate about their talents, work, loved ones, etc, is just so sexy to you. Your ideal match would be someone who could let you take the lead in the relationship (pick the restaurants, what location to travel to, etc) but in the bedroom then its their turn 👀.

[bookofbonbon]

creatures from within the woods - aemond targaryen.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader.

Warnings: Kidnapping. Imprisonment. Paralysis. Witchcraft. Implied assault.

Summary: Aemond had often been warned about the strange and dangerous creatures from within the woods who looked like humans but, he just had to have you.

Word Count: 1049.

A/N: Old fic from over a year ago that I posted then immediately deleted.

Blood weeps from the open wound, an unnaturally steady stream of red flowing from the cut in your palm and pooling at the edge of the make-shift altar you arranged with what materials you had.

Chanting quietly to yourself, an uneasy feeling goes down your spine. You sense his presence before he makes himself known, body vibrating with the weight of each of his steps as he draws nearer to your cage, wait- no. Your chambers as he so kindly put it but, a gilded cage is still a cage. 

When he enters, he does so quietly so as to not disturb you and you don’t allow him to either, remaining as distant and stoic as you always do when he’s around. The few times you did pay him mind however, you never showed him your true face, only the one you had carefully crafted for him. 

Aemond's gaze wanders the apartment that was once occupied by his elder half-sister and her family, concern growing in the pit of his stomach when he notices that you’ve once again opted to eat little to nothing. 

He thinks nothing this time. 

“You’ve barely eaten since your arrival, I do not wish to see you harm yourself in this way. Please, you must eat,” Aemond pleads.

“I will,” you mumble, distracted. “Soon.”

You roll your shoulders, trying to loosen the stiff muscles in your arms - manacles weighing heavy on your wrists; you could’ve easily removed them but, you were drawing from them - as you watch your blood prickle as if a thousand needles moved through it before it begins a slow slither to the altar’s centre. 

You were too weak to do this on your own.

Satisfied, you rise from your knelt position with a slight wince, still not quite used to the rigidity of human bones.

“You know,” you begin, rubbing at the shedding skin of your hands. “Your mother visits me some... she speaks oft of your visits to the Sept?”

Aemond nods, the gesture unseen but felt. In the same way that you could feel his longing gaze at your back; willing you to look at him so you may see the depths of the love he holds for you. He knew in his heart that once you did, all your resentment for him would disapparate.

“Yes,” he finds his words. 

This was simply not the way he wanted or imagined things to be and they wouldn't have been if you had just come willingly with him when he found you in the woods.

“Tell me… what do your Gods whisper to you in the quiet of the Sept?”

Aemond’s eyes widen, surprised by the question but quick to answer. 

“They offer me forgiveness,” he tells you softly. Careful still not to disturb the peace and, oblivious to the way your skin shimmers oddly beneath the moon's light. “They tell me in time that you will too.”

Your body stills, head turning slowly toward him with narrowed eyes. The wickedness that lurked beneath your beautiful face threatening to reveal itself.

Gliding inhumanly across the room, you leave the smallest of spaces between the two of you. Aemond’s gaze wide-eyed and foggy, unshed tears lining the edge of his eye as he peers down at you.

How pleased you were that you no longer had to wait. If you had to spend a minute more with the bumbling fool, you would sooner kill yourself than him. 

Sliding your hands from the manacles, you reach toward him and caress the side of his face with your bloodied hand. The heavy thud going unnoticed by Aemond as he leans into your touch and presses himself against you, his forehead touching yours. He’s careful in his next moves, his nose brushing gently against yours, breaths intermingling for a few moments before he hesitantly closes the gap between your mouths and you allow him. With closed eyes, he presses the softest of kisses to your lips, savoring the feeling of your willing lips against his. But, with each second that passes his kisses grow hungrier, his lust making itself known as he presses himself harder against you - the young Prince too caught up in the moment to notice the odd tingling sensation starting in his mouth. 

Pulling away from him, Aemond’s lips try to follow you until you press a firm hand on his chest. You feel the rise and fall of his chest as he remains dazed, eye still closed as he commits the feeling of your lips to memory. But the sweet moment is snatched away when you bring those same lips to his ear.

“Your Gods may forgive you but, I never will,” you hiss.

Aemond rears back, a cold feeling washing through him as you raise the fog clouding his vision and reveal your true self; a low hiss emanating from your chest as a forked tongue flickers out from between your lips and serpentine eyes stare back at him. 

It’s only then that Aemond smells the blood on his skin and sees the red of your hand. His gaze following the bloody trail that drips from between your fingers and leads to the altar behind you. Horror setting in as he finds the socket of his eye hollow, the blue stone sitting in the altar's centre. 

“What have you done?” Aemond roars, slamming you against the nearest wall.

He pushes his forearm into your neck but it isn’t you who begins to gasp for breath.

Body weakening, Aemond’s arm drops against his will, the limb too heavy to hold. He steps dizzily away from you, thoughts moving quicker than he could; his legs turning to lead as he dives desperately toward the altar. An attempt to stop whatever it is you've set into motion but, it's too late. His body ceases and he falls to the ground with a heavy thump.

Aemond had always been warned about the strange and dangerous creatures from within the woods who looked like humans but were not. But he couldn't help himself, he had to have you and, now with his head laid beside the altar, regret courses through him as he stares in unblinking terror as your blood finishes coiling its way around his sapphire and seals his fate.

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.

[judgementdaysunshine]

Hi, I am new to tumblr. If this isn't to much for you, can you do hedcanons on how would Jason Todd and Damian Wayne separately react to their s/o being a witch like Wanda/Scarlet witch from marvel, please. If this is to much for you ignore this.

Absolutely honey! ♥️

Damian

He had known people who had magic like powers and witchcraft but when he met you he had never seen anyone with powers like yours

He was always in awe of getting to see you use them whether for training or actual fighting purposes he was always asking you after about them

He liked hearing you chant spells so naturally of the tongue mostly for healing and protection purposes always smiling when the red glow appears in your hands and eyes

He would always be careful asking you to show your powers around him knowing that you were afraid of losing control and hurting anyone but him especially always specifying what he wants to see you do

He alwyas liked when you would telepathically talk to him in his head always saying how much you loved and cared about him making him blush red

He knew that you could give people nightmares but he didn't know that you could change people's dreams making him love you more when he found out that every time he would have a nightmare when you stayed the night with him you would use your powers to change his dreams making him dream of you or more pleasant dreams of his family

Jason

He had never met anyone with magic powers of any type except a rare occasional appearance from Giovanni Zatara or Doctor Fate but when he met you he was so intrigued and in awe of your powers

He would always ask you to show one ability every time he saw you always wanting to see you do spells,change people's dreams,telepathically talk to others,and to manipulate energy

He always lets you change his dreams whenever he has nightmares and cannot sleep always grateful when he had dreams of you or just dreams that kept him asleep that didn't involve death,blood,or the joker

He liked hearing and watching you chant spells for practice no matter what kind it was and whenever he got to see you use spells in fights he always made sure that he was able to watch it even if he had to hold some people by the collar before punching them

Whenever you have pain from your magic he will do whatever you need to relax and not be in any type of pain from massaging you while in a hot epsom salt bath,hold you while you fall asleep after late missions,or watch tv with you until you fall asleep in his arms

He always finds you and you just hold him when you know he's exhausted and having a very rough and tiring day just laying in your lap and arms until he is calmly asleep

[enodiankassia]

Begginers Guide to Witchcraft - Part 1

13 tips and advice to starting your path in the craft ;3

Pick the one thing you like about the craft, the thing that fascinates you the most about witchcraft, and then start there.

Once you do that, eventually youll see how everything comes into play and interconnects with learning about the rest of the craft.

It may seem overwhleming but once you realize that you dont NEED all these crazy tools to cast, everything becomes clearer.

Casting is as easy as visualizing the outcome you want, saying a prayer/chant/incantation, or even tie knots on a cord.

Start with basic spells, rituals, and workings so that you grow your power, and learn basic correspondences to help you start.

Your power, scource of magick, or energy, comes directy from your SPIRIT, your lifeforce, your energy within you, use it wisely.

You may get so excited that youll want to cast like crazy and end up burning yourself out like a child discovering video games.

Remember to only cast when you need to, not whenever you want to or feel like it, youll run out of energy and will need to recharge.

Always remember to do your research about everything you learn, the more you learn about the craft, the more powerful you grow. Knowledge is power and the power of knowledge is limitless.

Never take more than what is needed, ie casting an insane amount of wealth spells. If you tip the scales, you will reap its consequence.

Do not cast love spells, nor break up spells, you do not toy with peoples lives, nor do you influence their fate for any reason.

Do not curse, hex, or jinx UNLESS THE TARGET IS DESERVING OF IT, do not cast them as a joke for the consequences of such are much more disasterous than toying with peoples lives.

With all that said, remember that the craft is a practice, not a religion like wicca, religion has nothing to do with the craft unless you personally tie into the craft, its a spritual practice that was used by our ancestors way before the church existed.

The term witch is gender-neutral by the way, anyone of any sex or gender can be a witch. The term witch is an umbrella term that can mean any number of things about the practicioner, ie being a shaman, priestess, seer, etc. ;3 Thank You so much for reading.

[magickkate]

Today, let's explore the world of spell mediums in witchcraft. These tools and methods help channel intention, energy, and manifestation, empowering your spellwork and connection to mystical forces.

1. Jar Spells: Manifestation Bottled

Overview:

Purpose: Jar spells involve placing specific ingredients—herbs, crystals, written intentions, and other symbolic items—into a jar or container. The jar acts as a vessel to concentrate and amplify the spell's energy.

How It Works:

Layering Intentions: Begin by layering your ingredients in the jar, each representing an aspect of your intention (e.g., protection, love, prosperity).

Sealing the Energy: Close the jar tightly to seal in the magical energy and let it work over time. Some practitioners bury the jar, keep it on their altar, or hide it in a sacred space.

Practical Applications:

Long-Term Goals: Ideal for spells that require ongoing energy, such as protection, prosperity, or healing over an extended period.

Concealment: Useful for discreet spells or when privacy is desired, as the jar can be hidden away.

2. Spoken Spells: Power of Incantation

Overview:

Purpose: Spoken spells involve verbalizing intentions, incantations, or chants to invoke and direct magical energy. The spoken word carries vibration and intent, enhancing spell potency.

How It Works:

Intonation and Clarity: Speak clearly and with conviction, focusing your intention into each word or phrase.

Rhythm and Flow: Incorporate rhythm and repetition to build energy and create a harmonious flow of intention.

Practical Applications:

Immediate Needs: Effective for quick spells or urgent situations where immediate energetic intervention is required.

Personal Empowerment: Enhances personal presence and connection to magical forces through vocal expression.

3. Candle Spells: Illuminating Intentions

Overview:

Purpose: Candle spells use candles of various colors, each representing different intentions, to focus and direct magical energy.

How It Works:

Color Symbolism: Select a candle color corresponding to your intention (e.g., green for prosperity, red for passion).

Anointing and Carving: Dress the candle with oils, inscribe symbols or words, and imbue it with your intention before lighting.

Visualization: Focus on the candle flame as you visualize your desired outcome manifesting.

Practical Applications:

Visualization Aid: Enhances focus and concentration during meditation and visualization exercises.

Ritual Enhancer: Amplifies the potency of rituals and ceremonies, providing a focal point for energy manipulation.

4. Sigil Spells: Symbols of Power

Overview:

Purpose: Sigil spells involve creating and charging a symbol (sigil) that represents your intention. The act of drawing or inscribing the sigil activates its magical properties.

How It Works:

Creation Process: Design a sigil by combining and stylizing letters or symbols that encapsulate your intention.

Activation Ritual: Charge the sigil with energy—through meditation, visualization, or ritual—and release it into the universe to manifest your desire.

Practical Applications:

Versatility: Can be used discreetly (e.g., drawn on paper, carved into candles) or incorporated into more elaborate rituals.

Personalization: Tailor sigils to specific intentions, allowing for flexibility and creativity in spellcasting.

Finally -

Spell mediums in witchcraft are diverse and versatile, offering practitioners various ways to channel their intentions and work with mystical energies. Whether you resonate with jar spells, spoken incantations, candle rituals, or sigil crafting, each medium holds its unique power to manifest change and enhance spiritual connection.

[enchantedwitchling]

Casting Your First Spell: A Step-by-Step Guide

Casting your first spell is an enchanting and empowering moment on your witchcraft journey. It's an act of manifesting your intentions and connecting with the magic that resides within and around you. Whether you're a beginner or simply looking for a refresher, this step-by-step guide will help you cast your first spell with safety, intention, and ethical considerations in mind.

🕯️🌟✨

Step 1: Set Your Intention 🌌🔮

Begin by clarifying your intention. What do you wish to achieve with your spell? Be specific and ensure your intention aligns with your highest good and the greater good of all involved. Remember the ethical guideline: "An it harm none, do what ye will."

Step 2: Choose Your Tools 🌿🕯️

Select tools that correspond to your intention. For a simple spell, a colored candle, crystals, and herbs that match your purpose are often sufficient. For example, a green candle for prosperity or rose quartz for love.

Step 3: Create Sacred Space 🌟🏞️

Find a quiet and undisturbed space for your spell. You can cast your spell indoors or outdoors, but ensure you feel safe and comfortable. Light the candle and, if desired, cast a protective circle to create a sacred space.

Step 4: Ground and Center 🌳🌠

Ground yourself by visualizing roots extending from your body into the Earth. Center your energy by focusing on your breath and releasing any tension or distraction. Feel connected to the Earth and the universe.

Step 5: State Your Intention Aloud 🗣️📜

Speak your intention aloud with confidence and sincerity. You can use a chant, a rhyme, or simply state your intention clearly and concisely. This vocalization empowers your intention with your voice and energy.

Step 6: Visualization 🌈🌌

Close your eyes and visualize your intention manifesting. Feel the emotions associated with your desire as if it's happening right now. See it clearly in your mind's eye and believe that it's already on its way to you.

Step 7: Focus Your Energy 🧙‍♀️💫

Hold your chosen tools and focus your energy on your intention. Imagine the energy flowing from your body into the tools, charging them with your purpose. Feel the power within you.

Step 8: Release the Energy 🌬️🔥

When you sense that the energy is at its peak, release it into the universe. Blow out the candle if you've used one, or simply release your energy into the cosmos, trusting that it will work on your behalf.

Step 9: Express Gratitude 🙏🌸

Thank the universe, your deities, or any spiritual guides you work with for their assistance. Gratitude enhances the flow of positive energy in your life.

Step 10: Close the Circle (if applicable) 🌀🌕

If you cast a circle, release it by thanking the elements and spirits for their presence and assistance. Imagine the energy of the circle dissipating.

Step 11: Release Attachment and Trust 🕊️🌠

Release any attachment to the outcome of your spell. Trust that the universe is working to manifest your intention in the right way and at the right time.

🕯️🌟✨

Remember that spellwork is a practice, and like any skill, it improves with time and dedication. Approach your craft with respect for yourself and the world around you, and may your spells be a source of positive transformation in your life.

Casting your first spell is a beautiful milestone on your magical journey. Embrace the magic within you, and may it bring you growth, joy, and a deeper connection to the mysteries of the universe.

[scoops-aboy86]

I imagine that if Eddie could do magic, he would (as a young teen and therefore a dumbass with a poor grasp of the possible repercussions) try to cast a love spell to make Steve fall in love with him. It's the start of his sophomore year; Steve is just an incoming freshman who no one's really noticed yet, but Eddie is instantly smitten with the impeccable hair, the soulful hazel eyes, and that cute dazed look on his face he gets whenever surprised.

Does he dare even try to talk to Steve? No. Eddie already has zero social standing as a weird nerd who lives in a trailer park and Cannot Sit Still to save his life—which on other people would make them funny class clown material, but for some reason on him makes teachers angry and classmates roll their eyes. Just talking to Steve, Eddie is sure, would be a disaster. And even if he could, chances are Steve is straight and at best Eddie would eventually get punched in the face for admitting his feelings for the other boy.

So. Witchcraft. Chant chant chant, a possession of Steve's dropped in a bubbling cauldron, a blown out candle, and boom.

Only Eddie muffed the spell. Instead of Steve falling in love with Eddie, everyone falls in love with Steve. The spell isn't even strong enough to cause obvious problems; all the girls want him, all the boys want to be him, but there aren't, like, mobs forming over the guy's affection (or lack thereof). Eddie resigns himself to (a) being shitty at magic and (b) never getting Steve.

From Steve's perspective, his whole life changed overnight. Suddenly he's on the map at Hawkins High in a big way. He makes varsity basketball as a freshman, and at the same time is allowed to join the swim team despite the conflicting schedules. Girls are falling over themselves to go out with him. And it's great!

For a while. In some ways.

It gets him his parents' approval right up until November of 1983, when he starts to realize that maybe he hasn't really learned how to build a real relationship with someone, because all he knows is dates falling into his lap and girls looking for the social status that comes with bagging King Steve. That prowess on the basketball court doesn't mean very much when monsters crawl out of the walls and all he has to hand is a baseball bat full of nails. That a girl died in his pool because of a party he threw and him and his friends doing stupid teen shit like shotgunning beers. That the friends he's had since he became King Steve are, actually, pretty much all assholes.

After that first brush with the Upside Down, Steve stops trying to be popular. He stops throwing house parties, drops swimming, stops funding the basketball team's beer and weed purchases, and really tries (with Nancy's help) to buckle down and study.

But the spell is still in effect, so even with all that, everyone still wants a piece of him. He still goes to parties, and whenever Nancy isn't free to tag along there are always girls trying to hang off him, no matter how many times he reminds them that he's already seeing someone. Eventually he gives up, and while he doesn't cheat (he might have dated around a lot, but never with overlap; he is not his dad) he stops putting in the effort to shoo them away.

(Eddie, meanwhile, watches all of this from the sidelines and kind of hates the person he thinks Steve is now. He's not entirely wrong, because the popularity did go to Steve's head for a long time, and there are plenty of ways in which Steve's really isn't a better person for it. But Eddie also isn't close enough to see who he's trying to become now, and he's also still a little bitter in nursing his own bruised heart.)

After breaking up with Nancy and falling in with the Party, Steve starts to get even more frustrated with his lingering popularity. The rest of his senior year is still all girls fawning over him and guys being jealous (sometimes with a nasty edge to it now, like Tommy and Billy). On top of the nightmares left over from encounters with demogorogons and demodogs, it really brings out Steve's bitchy side. He stops dating, stops going to parties, stops trying to achieve in his classes in favor of coasting (and hating that all his teachers let him do it, while picking on kids like Eddie who are actively trying and just not very good at it).

One day, Eddie finds King Steve at the picnic table in the woods, looking to buy weed. Steve doesn't bat an eye when super-senior Munson names his price (double what he usually charges, but it's not like Steve has ever bought directly from anyone before so it's not like he'd know), and says that if it helps him sleep he'll start buying regularly.

Suddenly, Steve is in a slightly better mood at school all the time. He still brushes pretty much everyone off and only hangs out with middle schoolers, but he's nicer about it.

And he starts going to parties again. But he doesn't dance, and he doesn't drink all that much. A lot of the time he doesn't even stick around very long. He'll turn up and people watch, bopping his head in time with the music if it's a song he likes, and park himself by whatever food the party has to offer. Chips, popcorn, the occasional pizza—nothing extensive, most of the kids who come to these parties are there for the booze and the makeout opportunities. Sometimes Steve buys from Eddie if he's there, offers to share joints with him that Eddie, still wary, turns down. When the food runs out, Steve leaves.

See, the weed definitely helps him sleep. It also gives him the munchies, and Steve has sort of gotten into the habit of just... eating. It's not like his parents are around to notice, and Dustin and the other kids don't care as long as he springs for extras so they can have some too. No one at school would dare say it to his face, and somehow it still doesn't manage to fully tank his slightly flagging reputation, but Steve is definitely starting to put on weight.

Then he graduates, and... nothing. King Steve drops off the map.

For everyone except Eddie, anyway, because Steve still buys. And Eddie has started to relax his no-smoking-with-Steve policy lately. Between the weed and the public eye no longer pinning him in a spotlight, Steve has become an incredibly chill dude. He doesn't even mind that he didn't get into any of the colleges he applied to (or any of the ones his parents insisted he applied to either, but that's a more clear-cut relief), something he confides in Eddie around the time they start hanging out outside of sales because his dad is demanding that he get a summer job. Pros include more money for weed (although Eddie has relaxed his prices as well), but cons include less free time. Steve says Eddie can visit him at work though, and he'll hook him up with freebies and discounts.

Visiting Steve at his Scoops Ahoy job is both a visual treat for Eddie and how he finds out that he's basically Steve's only friend his own age. Those shorts, man, and even with the extra weight Eddie still thinks Steve looks great. Everything that first attracted him to Steve (the eyes, the slightly comical dopiness, and the hair, regardless of the little sailor's hat) is still there, plus big hands, broad shoulders, an endearing grin, and just... Steve.

Maybe, Eddie realizes, if he'd never done that spell at all, he could have gotten to know Steve like this years ago. He never feels like Steve's last choice when they spend time together, and definitely doesn't mind that Steve seems to forget how much space he takes up these days and always sits a little too close, whether it's on the picnic table bench or on the couch at Eddie's trailer or in a Scoops booth. Steve is goofy and sweet and a little lame, but he brings his own snacks and lets Eddie talk straight through the Star War movies and the animated Lord of the Rings film, reeling off every bit of trivia and his own personal opinions he can. Every now and then, Steve even goes out of his way to ask questions about d&d and listens to the answers.

Forget smitten, Eddie Munson is in love.

(… Okay, I thought about it some more, here's part 1. Now tagged as #love spell no go au. And there's also a part 1.5, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11.)

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Have You No Idea That You’re In Deep? [Chapter 2: The Same Agony]

Aemond is a fearless, enigmatic prince and the most renowned dragonrider of the Greens. You are a (newly widowed) daughter of House Mormont and a lady-in-waiting to Princess Helaena. You can’t ignore each other, even though you probably should. In fact, you might have found a love worth killing for.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the love this series has received! I hope you continue to enjoy it. 🥰🥰  

Song inspiration: “Do I Wanna Know?” by Arctic Monkeys.

Chapter warnings: Language, slightly more extensive witchcraft, mentions of death and violence, sexual content, this fic is for readers 18+!!!

Word count: 4.8k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @crispmarshmallow @tclegane @daddysfavoritesexkitten @poohxlove @imagine-all-the-imagines @nsainmoonchild @skythighs @bratfleck @thesadvampire @yor72 @xcharlottemikaelsonx  @loverandqueenofdragons @omgsuperstarg @endless-ineffabilities @devynsshitposts @vencuyot @ladylannisterxo @itzwhatever123 @cranberryjulce @abcdefghi-lmnopqrstuvwxyz @liathelioness @mirandastuckinthe80s @haezen @fairaardirascenarios @darkened-writer @weepingfashionwritingplaid @signyvenetia​

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“You wouldn’t happen to have any bear teeth, would you?”

“Bear…teeth?” Aemond blinks at you, confounded. You are standing together in the doorway of Helaena’s chambers as she plays on the floor with the children: stacking wooden blocks into diminutive castles, demolishing them with cloth dragons, chanting childhood nonsense songs in a wavering, whisper-soft voice. It is late-morning, and sunlight pours in through the open windows in sheets like rain.

“You see, bears are large terrestrial mammals. Their pelts make good rugs. They are commonly found in caves and forests, eat lots of salmon, and have often been observed—”

“Kindly desist your taunting,” the prince says, though fondly. “Why on earth would you require bear teeth?”

You hesitate. “They’re for…a tradition.”

“A tradition?”

“Um…perhaps…rather…a ritual.”

He flashes a devious grin. “A ritual, or a spell?”

You sigh in defeat. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

“You still worship the Old Gods,” he realizes. His single remaining eye—bright, cunning, oceanic blue—sweeps you up and down. He is not mocking, not appalled; he is forever seeking to uncover more pieces of you like shells collected from sand. “Well…that’s alright. We won’t tell Mother.”

“Yes, please don’t. She’d send me to the Wall.” This is an exaggeration, though not by much.

“What sort of spell involves bear teeth?” Aemond inquires, amused, like he’s waiting for a punchline.

“One for protection.”

“Oh? And who do you believe needs protecting?”

You peer up at him guiltily. He’ll hate that you’ve had this thought. “You’re riding in the tourney tomorrow.”

“Me?!” he exclaims, and laughs. It’s an alarmingly beautiful sound; you have to stop yourself from reaching out to touch him, his face or his forearm or his long silvery hair. “You think I need protection?”

“You never joust. You haven’t in years, I know, people won’t stop talking about it. They’re all baffled by your sudden interest. Everyone’s wagering bets. And you’re out of practice.”

“Hm, yes, well if Axel Hightower can do it then surely I’ll manage.”

You’re dismayed; if you’ve unwittingly encouraged him, that makes you responsible for any resulting catastrophes. In your own heart, at least. “Please tell me you aren’t doing this to outshine my dead husband.”

“Logistically, it would be rather difficult to compete with a corpse.”

“You don’t joust,” you say. “You never joust…”

“You know, my Uncle Daemon was known to joust on occasion.”

“Perhaps, but you aren’t.”

“Calm yourself.” He’s impatient now. “It’s a tourney, not an execution. And my match is some Lannister boy, it’s not like I’m stepping into the tiltyard with Ivar Kellington.”

“Right.” Ivar is the son of a house sworn to the Baratheons, and he is positively monstrous: tall, broad, fearsome, immovable. When he spars, he has to face two or three ordinary men to keep it competitive. He’s responsible for no less than four deaths resulting from tourney mishaps. He has a reputation even larger than he is; you’d heard about him all the way back in the Reach during your marriage. People around the court refer to him—with both awe and shudders—as ‘Sir Killington.’

Aemond considers you, always searching, never quite finding his footing. “I thought you weren’t one to shy away from battles.” And then he adds swiftly, just to emphasize how beneath him this is: “Not that a tourney is anything like a real battle, of course.”

“I’m not trying to stop you. I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help,” he replies briskly.

“Fine.”

He stares out into the hallway with his arms crossed. You stare over at Helaena and the children without really seeing them. Neither of you speak, but neither of you leave either.

“Enjoy your sparring,” you say eventually.

“Enjoy the beach,” Aemond replies, and departs almost soundlessly like a shadow. You tug on your pendant as you watch him disappear down the hallway: the lines of his shoulders, the sheen of his hair, the way strips of sunlight fall on him through windows and doorways. As your grip tightens, the oval of moonstone etches its shape into your palm; the silver chain digs into the soft vulnerable flesh at the back of your neck.

That did not go well. That did not go well at all. You frown absently, your mind elsewhere. So much for my attempted witchcraft.

“Lady Mormont?” Helaena beckons, breaking your apprehension like glass. She clutches one of Jaehaera’s tiny hands in hers while Jaehaerys stomps around demolishing microscale castles. You hope this is not prophetic of his (possible, far-off) future reign. “Help me get the children ready. The sea is calling for you.”

You shimmy the toddlers into swimming clothes, gather up toys and linens and pieces of fruit, and walk with Helaena and her white-haired twins down to the golden sand, to the water’s edge. As Helaena supervises her children—which consists primarily of having flustered handmaidens chase them around while the princess sits on a sand dune and embroiders a green-thread praying mantis onto a pillowcase—you wander ankle-deep in the warm, foreign surf.

King’s Landing is nothing like Bear Island. Home was stormy and grey and fog-cloaked, harsh, cold, rocky, inescapably brutal. Home felt old, hopelessly old, older than the stars; there was no hope of changing one’s life there. The people of Bear Island have been scraping out an existence—forcing an untamed, unwilling land to nurse them at blade-point—since long before the Targaryens ever set foot in Westeros, since before the Andals, since before there was any divide between history and myths. But here…here…

As you stand on the beach below the Red Keep, there are gulls circling far overhead and clear blue skies and invigorating heat and ships gliding ceaselessly in and out of port. This land yields life plentifully, effortlessly. Within the walls of the city there are people clawing their way up ladders every minute of every day, and tumbling down them as well; there are always new futures to be made. This is an idea you could get used to. This is a world you could get used to.

Later, much later—after bathing the children, after lunch, after visiting the sept with Queen Alicent (requiring some pantomimed piousness on your part), after a meandering stroll through the godswood, after music and dinner and dancing—he finally returns. You don’t need to see him come in. You can hear his footsteps; you can feel the room shift like a ship rocked by waves.

“Aemond!” Helaena squeals in glee and rushes over to him. Meanwhile, you loiter by the fireplace pretending to be engrossed in a letter. In truth, you’ve read it twice already, and it wasn’t all that enthralling to begin with; one of your cousins, married into House Manderly, has just birthed her fifth child in seven years and feels the compulsion to tell the whole world about it. It occurs to you that some people’s luck is really quite excessive.

You try not to listen as Aemond asks Helaena about her day, as she prattles on about the beach (but mostly about her insect embroidery), as she gets sidetracked and scurries off and lowers herself onto the couch to finish the aforementioned embroidery. The prince’s familiar footsteps approach you. You refuse to look up until he’s waited several minutes with nothing but the dry, popping fractures of wood in the fireplace to split the silence.

“Did you and Sir Criston have a productive time hitting each other with sticks?”

“There was a slight change of plans.”

He tosses a leather pouch to you. You catch it in mid-air. Inside are cracked, bloodied bear teeth. You gasp in the flame-lit stillness. “How…?”

“It was the strangest thing. I, entirely unprompted, was struck by this intense desire to go bear hunting.” He grins: impish, off-kilter, waiting to see if you’ll forgive him. “I hope they’re adequate, they were difficult to…uh…dislodge. From the skull, I mean. And I wasn’t sure if you wanted them…you know. Cleaned.”

“No, you did well. It’s better if they’re bloody.” You are struck by a sudden, ludicrous vision of the prince practically dragging Sir Criston Cole through the woods for hours—their boots coated with mud, their brows sweated, twigs embedded in their hair—while dodging Sir Criston’s increasingly exasperated inquiries. “I don’t know why you did this for me.”

“I know what it’s like to hold something sacred that others don’t understand.”

From the couch, Helaena murmurs: “He had to close his eye.”

You turn to Aemond for a translation.

“To get my dragon,” he says softly, then gestures to his lost eye: quickly, as if he doesn’t want to draw any more attention to it than he absolutely must. You know it happened in some sort of childhood scuffle between Alicent and Rhaenyra’s sons—every noble who’s ever travelled south of the Neck knows that—but you’ve never heard the details. Unthinkingly, reflexively, you reach out for him, resting your right palm against the mutilated half of his face. He’s so perfect in spite of the destruction his flesh holds like a memory; he’s so fucking beautiful. Your thumb ghosts across the section of scar that slits his cheek in two. Aemond flinches and catches your wrist.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Gently, he lowers your hand back to your side. Then he grasps your pendant to examine it more closely. “Hm. Moonstone and silver, together, entwined. Curious, don’t you think?”

“Very,” you agree. You wonder what he looks like without his eyepatch, not in a morbidly curious sort of way but out of a longing—a craving—to know every part of him entirely.

“I’ve studied the Old Gods, you know,” he says. “Purely for scholarly purposes. And the Drowned God, and the Lord of Light. There are temples dedicated to Him in Dorne. I’ve exchanged letters with several of the maesters there.”

“I’m sure your mother is positively delighted that you’re writing to maesters instead of eligible Baratheon and Lannister women.”

He smiles wryly. “Aegon has brothels. I have the library.”

“So you don’t spend all your time sulking around unnerving courtiers.”

“Well, not all of it.” His face is illuminated by the fire, amber and scarlet and gold. He reads the nervousness on yours: the tourney, the joust, your own dawning realization of how much he means to you. “Fear not. I’m coming back.”

“That’s exactly what my mother said before she left me in the Reach with Axel Hightower. And I never saw her again.”

Without speaking, Aemond cups your face in his hands. He touches his forehead to yours—lightly, lightning-briefly—and then backs away. He takes several long strides, as if he’s afraid of what will happen if the space between you could be so easily closed.

“Good luck tomorrow, Silver,” you tell him.

He glances down at the leather pouch of bear teeth still clutched in your left hand. “I thought you were taking care of that for me.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When the rest of the Red Keep is slumbering in unwitting darkness, you slip unnoticed back to the heart tree. You have to do this part here, where the Old Gods can hear you; you have to give Aemond the best chance you can. You pour a handful of the bloodied teeth, rosemary, sage, sea salt, and your last few pebbles of black jade into the mortar you left Bear Island with, and then Oldtown after Axel’s death. You hope you never have to leave King’s Landing. Everything in you struggles against the thought of it, like an animal with its paw in an iron-jawed trap. You light a white candle and set it on a root of the heart tree.

“Protect him,” you implore the flame again and again. It flickers and bends to you in the cold night wind. You grind the teeth until they are a fine, pale-pink dust. “Break others if you must, burn others if you must, bury others if you must…but protect him.”

This next part is the trickiest. Back inside the Red Keep, you evade guards and handmaidens to slink inside the prince’s chambers. The man you are regrettably falling in love with—Aemond Targaryen, Aemond One-Eye, the dragonrider of Vhagar—is exactly where he should be: asleep in bed. He is sprawled on his stomach and occasionally murmuring as if in the middle of a very consequential conversation. He is mostly obscured by blankets, but you can see he’s not wearing his eyepatch; his white hair flows freely and unincumbered over the pillows. You are careful not to look too closely at him, only because you know he wouldn’t want you to.

You crouch down on the cold, hard floor and scatter the powder you’ve ground under his bed. No one would ever recognize it as witchcraft. It could be sand, it could be dust, it could never be noticed at all. When you are finished, you flee the room with feather-light steps.

Yet you think you might have heard it as you crossed through the doorway, just maybe, just barely: a creak, a stirring, the prince rising to catch a glimpse of you with his sleep-bleary eye.

~~~~~~~~~~

A Mullendore unseats a Buckwell. A Tyrell unseats a Rollingford. A Westerling gets so drunk he falls off his horse mid-charge and the Tully proclaims victory. Sir Ivar Kellington breaks some poor Massey boy’s jaw. Everyone applauds politely.

Aegon leaps to his feet. “Well done, Sir Killington!” he shouts, raising his wine cup. “Uh…I mean…Kellington.” Aegon drops back into his seat. Otto Hightower glares at him.

You tug nervously on your moonstone pendant. Helaena claps and smiles when necessary but otherwise watches the birds, the clouds, the horses and works on the favor she’s making. The queen is wringing her hands and dressed—predictably—in a rich emerald-green gown. Alicent has always struck you as kind and affectionate enough, albeit in a distracted sort of way. You suppose she has plenty of legitimate distractions. Her husband the king is ailing, rarely seen, unlikely to live much longer. Her father is ruling the kingdom in all but name. Her estranged stepdaughter, a prospective schemer and confirmed dragonrider, is the heir apparent. And she has an adult son in need of a politically-expedient marriage…a son who doesn’t have any spare eyes to sacrifice to this tourney.

You turn to Aegon, who stares vacantly down into the tiltyard with red, groggy eyes. “I know the prince is good on his feet, but can he joust? You know…without his…?” You point to your own unharmed eye in explanation. Aegon shrugs listlessly. This does not inspire confidence.

As Ivar Kellington exits the tiltyard, Aemond comes in. They exchange a look as they pass each other on their horses, a silent antagonism, a taking of measurements. It can safely be assumed that Ivar—a man whose legacy will be built on the bones of the people he’s brutalized—would like few things more than a chance to publicly skewer the prince, but he won’t get it. The Hightowers would never allow such a match. Aemond smirks up at the giant triumphantly.

The crowd cheers as Aemond and the Lannister boy he’s scheduled to joust gallop around the tiltyard, but in a way that is tentative, taunt, uneasy. No one can recall ever seeing the brooding, one-eyed prince participate in a tourney before. As his long white hair flows out behind him like a banner, as he sizes up his opponent with a cool, stoic gaze, people chatter about how much he reminds them of Daemon Targaryen. Is Aemond another rogue prince? Is that primal breed of fear that he inspires in people deserved? You observe the nobles gathered here from your seat between Aegon and Helaena, noting for the first time just how many seven-pointed stars there are: on cups, on chairs, on pieces of embroidery, on necklaces. Queen Alicent wears them constantly.

What do they do to witches here? Burn them?

A bolt of dread pierces through your chest like a blade. No one is looking at you, of course; no one is paying any attention to you at all. But suddenly you feel naked in this crowd.

Sir Criston has appeared to give Aemond his parting words. He grabs the horse’s reigns and says something to Aemond that you can’t hear over the thunderous noise of the audience. The prince nods. Criston speaks again, miming a technique. The prince continues to nod. His mood is evident from his posture: Yes, okay, alright, let’s get on with it. Criston hands the prince his helmet, which is open in the front and without a visor, and people murmur about how Daemon always wore the same style. You think it has less to do with an homage as it does with practicality. Aemond cannot afford what sight he has left to be obscured by metal. He doesn’t look at or acknowledge you in any way, but when he dons his helmet and his hair is momentarily displaced you see it rubbed onto the back of his neck where no one will notice: a fine, chalky, pinkish dust.

He saw me after all. In his bedroom.

You can envision him crawling out of bed and dropping to his knees, investigating while still clumsy and half-asleep, pressing his palm to the dust before marking himself with it. You smile, a solitary moment in a pulsing space.

That has to be good luck, doesn’t it? That has to give the spell more power.

You wish you knew more about magic. You wish your mother was still alive.

Sir Criston hands Aemond his shield and his lance. Aemond asks Helaena for her favor. She gives it to him wholeheartedly: a small wreath of green calla lilies she’s been weaving together with jittery fingers. She waves him off and then sinks back into her seat, silent and remote.

Aemond takes his place at one end of the tiltyard. The Lannister boy—Leland or Luca or Landon or Lyndon or something like that, you keep forgetting—waits on the other. Their horses paw at the earth restlessly. There’s already blood in the soil, the air. Everyone else clears the tiltyard. The seconds tick down.

Suddenly—like falling forward—both riders have kicked their mounts and the horses are hurtling towards each other. The space between them evaporates like a waning moon. People are screaming all around you, and some of the noise is pure exhilaration but a good amount of it is horror, because already people can see it: the prince’s lance is aimed just a bit too low and too far to the left, and the Lannister boy’s lance is poised to collide with Aemond’s unguarded face. Aemond sees it too, soon enough to know but not soon enough to fix it. His blue eye is wide and gleaming with doomed shock.

Before the riders can strike, there is a deafening snap, a cracking of bones. The Lannister boy’s horse plummets to the earth as its left fetlock shatters. The Lannister boy’s lance goes flying, his lips loose a shriek…and his body falls perfectly into the line of Aemond’s lance. The prince’s lance crashes into the Lannister shield and sends the boy soaring off the back of his collapsing horse. The crowd explodes into cheers and applauds. Aemond has won.

He is dutiful about it, honorable about it. He dismounts and helps the Lannister boy to his feet and expresses sympathy about the horse: such bad luck, so unfortunate, although everyone knows horses are prone to such accidents. He bows graciously to the crowd of courtiers who have so consistently ignored, avoided, misunderstood him. And only then does he come to accept congratulations from his family.

Aemond receives a giddy hug from Helaena, a sloppy whack on the shoulder from a very intoxicated Aegon, and kisses on his hands from the queen. Otto Hightower gives him a proud, beaming nod. Sir Criston sprints up from the tiltyard to embrace—in fact, nearly tackle—the prince. In the joyous mayhem, you make no attempt to capture Aemond’s attention, but he does fight his way through it to find you. He circles an arm around your waist to pull you close so he can whisper to you as he places Helaena’s calla lily wreath on your head like a crown.

“I’m awfully glad I found you those bear teeth, Moonstone,” he says, and then he’s spirited away by admiring nobles.

You watch—alone in the havoc—as Aemond is commended by the great families of Westeros, the fathers and the matriarchs and the marriageable daughters too; and you are struck by a sudden and overwhelming sadness.

He is going to marry a Baratheon or a Lannister or an Arryn or a Stark, you think. And any fantasy that deviates from that eventuality is pure, self-inflicted cruelty.

You don’t belong in his world. Perhaps you don’t really belong anywhere.

Unnoticed—or so you believe—you escape through the spectators and into a small, empty stairwell of the Red Keep. You crumple onto a step, entertain the possibility of composing yourself, and then rupture into helpless, pitiful tears. You sit there sobbing with your face in your hands for five minutes, or ten, or twenty, you aren’t sure. It doesn’t matter. No one misses you.

When you hear the footsteps, you immediately know who it is. You don’t even look up. You wipe your sore, drenched cheeks with the sleeves of your gown and stare down at the stone floor in abject humiliation.

“What troubles you?” he asks. You marvel at his voice, and not for the first time: calm yet compelling, soft-spoken and yet so heavy with gravity.

You consider lying to him, but you don’t. The answer is so simple. Now your eyes find his. “I want something I can’t have.”

Aemond nods, solemn, pensive. “I find myself afflicted with the same agony,” he says. And then he’s gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

There is an informal feast held in the Great Hall to celebrate the winners of the tourney. People roam and mingle and eat off of plates balanced precariously in one hand. There is dancing and music, an anxious plucky sort of sound that plays from the strings. Aemond is the guest of honor, although no stranger would guess it; after his short obligatory exchanges with various nobles and fellow jousters, he makes his way back to his immediate family. You are obliged to accompany Helaena, and thus bound to stay near Aemond; all night you orbit each other like planets, like seasons. Sometimes he catches you watching him as you sip your wine, sometimes he skates his palm along the small of your back as he passes behind you, over and over again you find excuses to stand next to each other while saying nothing, while thinking everything, while feeling each other’s heat through the infinitesimal space between you. Finally, as the evening careens towards midnight, he finds you alone in the doorway of the same winding staircase he tracked you to earlier, except now you’re at the top of it. You’re nursing a cup of wine, unnoticed and unnecessary, still wearing the crown of green calla lilies. Helaena is thoroughly preoccupied with a plateful of pear tarts and the doting attention of Otto Hightower. Aegon is presumably off badgering a servant girl somewhere…or perhaps passed out under a tree.

“This is an odd question, I freely admit it,” the prince says, close enough that you can see the ring of dark blue around the edge of his iris like the ocean at night. Torchlight glows on the flush in his cheeks: one pristine, one ruined. “But would you happen to have been in my bedroom last night?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Lying is a sin in any religion.”

“Alright, yes, I was there. Briefly. Very briefly.”

“So you didn’t want to stay?”

In reply, you only gaze up at him, wanting him so badly it puts aches in your hands, your spine, your lungs, the threads of your heart. His smile is knowing and playful and warm and kind. He reads you the same way he pours over dusty, long-forgotten books in the library and you read him like a spell. You want to know everything he’s made of. You want to feel him beneath the innate design of your fingerprints. He looks into your eyes and sees all of this and more; and then he turns and descends the stairs.

You follow after him, your dress dragging on the stone steps. His footsteps are so light they’re nearly soundless. He moves like a storm, like a wolf; you don’t hear them until they’ve got their jaws around you. Torches burn overhead as you traverse the staircase down, down, down. You can still hear the muffled music of the strings through the castle walls. You can feel the pounding of your heart, the blood roaring in your ears like waves. The music fades as you walk, and then disappears; but your heart grows louder.

When you reach the final step, Aemond catches you, presses you against the wall, kisses you so deeply it feels like you’re drowning in him: in heat, in insatiability, in all that long-caged wildness screaming to be freed. Your wine cup and crown of calla lilies both tumble to the floor. His hands are gliding beneath your dress. You’re ripping open his tunic. In the sea of fabric, his fingers find the velvet-soft inside of your thigh and follow it upwards. You’re soaked for him already. He moans, licks his fingers, kisses you so you can taste yourself on his lips, his tongue. Your hands tangle in his hair and drag him closer, closer, until there’s no space left between you, not even enough to second-guess this. You open your thighs wider, bite his neck, beg him to fuck you. His fingers stroke you until your hips are thrusting in rhythm, until you’re stifling your cries against his bare, flare-hot skin. There is a powerful, shuddering sensation of an opening, a warm glowing like liquid gold. Reflections of fire dance over you both. His breathing is ragged, ravenous. Even through his clothes, you can feel how hard he is, how thick. You are starving to be filled with him.

“Wait,” you gasp, and immediately he stills. You touch his face, your palm to his scar, and this time he doesn’t flinch away. “Can I see you?” you say. “I want all of you. The real you.”

He hesitates. He reaches for his eyepatch. He rips it away in one fluid motion, like a bandage off a fresh wound, like he’s afraid of losing his nerve. Where his left eye should be is jagged flesh framing a glittering, savage-blue sapphire. You can see the shadow of the little boy he was when he was disfigured and never avenged. You can see every brick he’s built himself with since.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you whisper, your words weightless and vanishing like smoke.

“I never wanted people to pity me.”

“No one pities you. They fear you.”

Aemond asks, mesmerized, spellbound: “Why don’t you fear me?”

“Because I was raised to admire ferocity, not to run from it.”

“You are perfection,” he breathes. “You were made for me.”

You grab his face with one hand, hook it around his jaw, and look him straight in his eyes, both of them: one flesh, one sapphire. “Show me.”

You’re still throbbing, still slick, still roiling in aftershocks as he plunges inside you. You fuck with your faces close and your hands entwined, kissing, moaning, biting, whispering promises that cannot be kept. When he comes, his teeth close around your collarbone to keep himself from crying out; and then he rests his forehead against yours. You remain there together in this dying moment, in the receding seconds, dwelling in them like the last days of summer. Then he steps back and the illusion is shattered.

You let the hem of your dress drop to the floor. Aemond refastens his tunic and smooths his hair. As you find your balance on weak and trembling legs—as you adjust to the unwelcome absence of him—you push Aemond away. “Go,” you say, glancing to the steps. “Go. I know you have to.”

His hands are open, empty. “Are you sure—?”

“Go,” you insist. “Please, just go. Before you’re missed.”

He looks at you like he’s going to say more. Then he picks up his eyepatch off the floor, secures it over what remains of his left eye, and ascends the staircase to rejoin his family in the Great Hall. That’s where he belongs, after all. That’s where he will always belong.

You wait to follow him until enough time has elapsed to evade suspicion. You wait at the bottom of the staircase in silence, in agony, your skin crawling with the echoes of flames.

[gracelaurie]

Falling into your ocean eyes 🌊 | Orm Marius x female reader

part 1 🌊

Warning ⚠️ : enemies to lovers, harsh words.

for the next part ➡️ masterlist

A/N : My first language isn’t English, so I’m sorry if the grammar is wrong a few times. and please be gentle because I haven't even read the comic.

Y/N is a woman of mixed blood. Her mother was a witch, then his father is a King Nereus. That makes her an illegitimate child. Y/N was born 1 year after Mera, which makes them technically sisters. Y/N's mother died mysteriously while giving birth to Y/N. She never met her father in person, but they were connected to each other through her magic.

She knew her father was afraid that his secret of having an illegitimate child would be discovered. Technically it would destroy her father's life and his reputation. To avoid this, her father continued to secretly support Y/N by giving her money as she lived alone on the surface. Even Mera didn't know such a big secret.

Time and time again, Y/N studied magic with the help of various magic books belonging to her mother. She studied the power that existed within her. Dark magic, chaos magic, reality manipulation, etc.

She was sick of hiding on the surface. The only surviving witch descendant from her mother's family was herself. Y/N used to live in an orphanage not far from the coast, but because someone saw her playing with black magic at the age of 16, she was expelled, and since then she has been forced to move around, in the middle of nowhere. Alone. Poor girl.

Even though her hatred to her father is the same as the Oceans, all Y/N wants is love from a family. She had planned all this carefully, and isn’t aggressive.

“Hey,” She heard a man's voice behind her. His face looked fierce and full of suspicion. “What you doin’ in there, Strange-Girl?”

Suddenly the red mist that only existed in her sight disappeared in an instant. Y/N's eyes which were previously bright red turned brown again.

“I don’t know what you talking about.”

Arthur Curry’s looking at her sharply, “I usually don’t give a fuck about what’s a girl like you doing but you seems really strange.”

Y/N was silent as she began to feel the man right in front of her seem to be starting to realize what she was doing. “I know a girl like you seems sweet, innocent, nice, but who knows if you’re actually devil in disguise.”

“I’m sorry, are you drunk, Mr. Curry?”

Arthur Curry laughed out loud, grab his spilled beer, sit next to Y/N and drink it greedily. “You're a foreigner, dressed in foreign clothes, chanting some kind of spell, glowing red eyes, and you know my name. Who the fuck are you?”

“What do you want?” he said clearly. His gaze sharp, almost as if he wanted to finish her off.

“Not your business.” Y/N get up and walk away from the bar.

But not long after that Arthur Curry chased him and spoke loudly, “If you're so obsessed with the ocean, your magic won't be able to withstand what happens down there, Strange-Girl.”

He certainly suspected the girl. He’s not dumb. He knew that Y/N wasn't just any witch. But on the one hand, he didn't want to pay his full attention to the strange witch in front of him. He would make a move if the witch was really acting up.

*******

Y/N closed her eyes, sitting relaxed surrounded by a circle of candles. She keep saying her witchcrafts. Her face was a little sweaty, her eyes closed, then she opened her eyes which were already bright red.

“Shhh, we still have to keep quiet, my dirty naughty witch..” Orm Marius whispered in Y/N's ear while Y/N aggressively kissing Orm’s neck.

“No I want you, my King. I want this so bad.” Y/N touched Orm's lips with a look full of lust. “I hate this armor, I want to hold your naked body again…”

Orm laughed softly, "this is not the right time, my dirty naughty witch. Mera is coming, and our engagement—“

“Shhh, you ruined this moment, my King. You know i want you, more than Mera wants you.” Y/N kept teasing King Orm by kissing his lips.

“I know. But Mera and King Nerius will come to see me soon, they can’t see you here with me, I hope you understand, my darling.” He spoke softly, but Y/N suddenly became very angry hearing his statement.

“You know what? They should see me here! Especially for King Nerius so he would know that his illegitimate child is brave enough to show her face in this fucking Atlantis!!”

Orm Marius, King of Atlantis, woke up from his sleep with his body covered in sweat and his heart beating very fast. Orm immediately meet his vizir, Nuidis Vulko to tell him everything he experienced every time he slept.

“Brown eyes, brown-long-waivy hair, half blood but not an usual human, she’s a Witch-Atlantean.” Orm quickly said this without greeting. Vulko looks really confused what his King talking about.

“King Nereus’s illegitimate child.“

Orm smiled sarcastically and continue, "She’s been bothering me 5 times. Go find her, I think she’s on the surface, because if she lives in here, she doesn’t have to use her magic spell to enter my mind."

Vulko nodded, obeying his King's orders.

“And bring her to me,” Orm said, “I want to fulfill her wish to meet her father, for a little surprise.”