#shamanic power animal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

huicitawrites · 6 months

Text

Priestess of The Malevolent Shrine

Yandere! Trueform Sukuna x Fem! Reader

tags: @a-tiny-teez @kazusan7yanderekun @eleventhdoctorsangel @sircatchungus

warnings: yandere, “slow burn”, violence, death and torture, slavery

Part 1- It begins

Previous Part / Next Part

The day itself was no different than any other spring day in Japan. The vast forest gleamed with green and a soft breeze danced through the trees and rattled the leaves. In the depths, the sound of rushing water could be heard, indicating the presence of a waterfall or spring.

And yet, it was still awfully quiet.

No sounds or sights of animals- no heads of reindeers or tails of mountain foxes, not a single bird sat atop the tree branches and not the single chirp of a cricket or the all-too-known hisses of cicadas.

In any case, the air was tense, the spring wind carried gloom and silence. The dense forest did not hide you, but made you feel small and intimidated, vulnerable to the feeling of being stalked like prey.

You were capable of seeing their eyes and malformed shapes, their sights were focused on you, who was sitting inside the decorated carriage, and the men who carried you to the slaughter.

They outnumbered you and the men, they made you easy prey and yet, they did not jump at the opportunity. No, they watched. Although the bodies pushed and squeezed each other, they did not cross your path and in its stead, formed a straight path up the hill- at the top of it and at its end, a massive torii-gate could be seen.

Like a lamb to the slaughter.

Yes, that’s what you were- The make-up, the accessories and wedding hanfu were all a traditional façade, you were not a woman to be married off to a man as the noble customs dictate.

No.

You were a sacrifice.

An unlucky sheep being delivered to the wolf’s den in a ridiculous attempt to save the other sheep.

As the carriage advanced, you couldn’t help but grasp and twist the fabric of the dress. It was shameful, if anything. Your clan was once proud and strong, almost at par with the family that held possession of The Six Eyes. Your parents were proud leaders that had exorcized countless curses and led their fellow shamans to dominate the battlefield.

A terrible encounter would be their doom and leave the [L/n] clan in shambles. Your parents and many other clanspeople fought and lost their lives to the King of Curses. The L/n’s, once vast and powerful, was rendered scarce and vulnerable. Without the support such a big clan provided, your village’s riches run dry and your clan was abandoned by the townspeople. Even when you as the heiress of the Clan pleaded for help to the other great clans in hopes they would honor their alliances held for over decades, they turned their backs on you without a second thought.

What could you, a young woman with feeble grasp of her own inherited technique, hope to do to? In a world where power ruled over all and guaranteed survival, what could you possibly do to prevent your clan from extinction?

How could you ever save the legacy of your dear parents?

It seemed like your uncle, the only closest relative you had alive, had a wonderful idea. "We'll put to use your youth and face”, he had said, “I am sure you can please him, your parents would be proud to see you do anything in your grasp to save our clan. As a young L/n heiress, it is your duty. Bask in pride.”

‘Bask in pride?’ To hell with him, it seemed that he had also forgotten about his sister, your beloved mother, and his brother-in-law. They would never sell you out, as long as you can remember they never pressured you to accept any suitor and they would always express their desire for you to choose out of your own right.

And screw your Uncle’s words, they would rather fight tooth and nail against the whole Jujutsu world than to see you being sent off to the Cursed King himself. Your parents would rather die than issue an alliance with Ryomen Sukuna, the murderer of your clan, through you- their cherished daughter.

However, they had indeed died. They could do nothing to prevent you from your fate and save you from the madness and desperation of your uncle.

‘Mother, Father’, your fingertips instinctively brushed the piece of jewelry that adorned your [Y/n] hair - a colorful hairpin in the shades of [favorite color] passed down to you as a family heirloom - when you closed your eyes, the faces of your deceased parents and fallen clanspeople flashed in your mind.

To hell with your uncle, to hell with the King of Curses.

Too caught up within your mind, you were brought back by a ‘knock-knock’ from the outside wall of the carriage. Your uncle’s voice reached your ears, “We are almost there, [Y/n]. Prepare yourself.”

“Remember, our lives depend on you. Do not do anything stupid.”

You knew well what he meant to say, ‘don’t you dare step out of line’. You can perfectly recall the sting of the palm of his hand on your right cheek when you had first opposed. You were still opposed, you could not hide the truth that reflected in your face. Your uncle was mad, but he was not blind. He was aware of your intentions and the unwavering loyalty you had for your parents and the clan. Their teachings, values and traditions were well rooted within you.

The ascending movements of the carriage came to a stop. Your curiosity willed you towards the window of the carriage. When taking a peak out of it, you noticed a massive, old and strained torii. The color of it had faded and lost itself to time and the wood of it had various cracks that ran through the columns. In spite of it all, it stood tall and its height made you feel even smaller and more insignificant to its grandness.

Past the torii, meters away and framed at the center, was a shrine.

When the lot of you crossed the torii, a massive aura came crushing on you. The tension solidified ten times over, and the air became even thicker than before. Unlike in the forest, there were no cursed spirits yet the cursed energy emanating from the shrine was hundreds of times stronger and fouler.

This was where Ryomen Sukuna lived.

He had to be there, inside.

The gates of the shrine opened on their own as if he were already expecting your arrival. He knew all of you were here the moment you put a foot in that cursed forest. The doors creaked and the ominous scenery lit up.

The shrine was spacious, there were three columns at each side of the hallroom and between the last pair there was his throne.

The veils of the carriage hid you, but you could feel your uncle and his men freeze. You could feel his cursed energy radiating past the carriage walls and veils, directly hitting your skin and making your body tremble. You bit your lower lip and your nails crumbled the fabric even tighter. It would leave permanent creases, if you ever lived past this moment to see them that is.

“Oh, great King of Curses,” your uncle’s voice announced and his body bowed along the remaining clanspeople, “We have come in peace and humbleness with an offer.”

Your uncle could not resist slightly raising his head and taking a mere glance, but once he did, he was quick to redirect his forehead to the ground and sweat began to break all over his body.

At the top of the leading stairs and in a golden throne gilded with skulls sat Ryomen Sukuna, seemingly bored. Even as he sat, his body was huge, and he had two pairs of arms. The lower set held two weapons, a staff and a dagger, which did nothing but aggravate the threat that he was. His top left arm laid on the armrest as his right elbow bent to cushion his cheek. Although his head was tilted to the side and there were no traces of ire or madness right away, his four eyes looked down upon them with disdain. As if he were glancing at a couple of ants.

His eyes were, however, quick to glance at the carriage. Of course he knew what this was about, this was not the first time he was made an ‘offering’. His red irises glanced back to your uncle and the people behind him, oh how he enjoyed the sight of fools bowing to him.

“Bring the carriage forward and back off. I’ll see whatever’s inside for myself”.

His voice was low and thick, Sukuna ordered them around without much more explanation, only with the expectation that they would fill out his command. They were at his mercy, and so, the carriage was carried forward with you in it. Slowly, they lowered it and dropped you on the ground. As they retreated, their forms were still kept bowed and low.

Ryomen Sukuna stood up from his throne, full seven feet or more of stature in display. Strange black markings stretched across his skin. As he descended the stairs, his heavy footfalls thudded the wooden floor, vibrating through the it.

The carriage shook in the ground, you could tell he was enormous and monstrous due to those footfalls of his. With each step, he got closer, and you grew even more nervous.

Sweat began to break from the skin of your forehead, your eyes widened and your pupils constricted, your throat became tight and dry.

‘He’s getting closer, he’s getting closer, he’s-’

The shadow of his silhouette tinted the veils, and suddenly everything around you disappeared. All you could hear and feel was the frantic drumming of your heart in your ears.

You could see in slow motion how his muscled arm came to grab the veil. One by one, his black claws passed through the division of the veils.

‘He will open them any second now.’

Your breathing became ragged and snippets of your life flashed across your eyes. Your parents, your clanspeople, the townspeople, everyone.

You would rather die than betray them.

You prepared yourself and below the sleeves of the damned hanfu, your knuckles turned white.

When Sukuna drew open the curtains, he was met with a pretty sight. It’s not an outstandingly new thing, but a pretty maiden is always a relief to a man’s eyes, even to one such as him.

Dolled up just for him with delicate makeup and luxurious fabrics, a lady with [h/c] hair and [s/c] skin sat on her knees elegantly. Her back was poise and kept, her eyes were closed, displaying long and curled eyelashes.

For a second, Sukuna lost his usual cool composure- he was truly impressed, even though many had come to him in a similar manner.

However, what followed suit was what definitely picked his interest.

The calm and docile demeanor of the lady snapped and her eyes shot open, revealing a pair of fierce [e/c] burning with fury. From the inside of the carriage, she leapt forward to him- to his throat to be precise.

“Oh?” The Cursed King expressed with genuine interest, an eyebrow cocked and all, as he admired your form in the air.

Your hair spread free and wild in the air, like the mane of a lion, and your teeth were bared as a warcry left your red-painted lips. Your left arm was extended and the palm of your hand was wide open, while the other arm’s elbow was bent behind your head. Sukuna was also quick to take notice of the weapon in your hand infused with cursed energy, a familiar one as well, and his eyes widened in further surprise when the cursed energy became so sharp it flashed in red and black.

The corners of Sukuna’s lips picked up, his lips parted in a wicked, toothy grin laced with malice. He ran his tongue over his lips, he could already taste it, the massacre. Your form was getting nearer and nearer by the second, with the naive intent to strike him down.

“I’d rather die than be sold off like a broodmare!”

“You foolish girl, you’ll kill us all!”

The King of Curses held an amused face in contrast to your enraged one, and just when you thought you would be able to pierce and slice open his throat, one of his arms stopped you. Abruptly, and quite ironically, he caught you by your own throat. His hold was strong, immobilizing you completely mid air. Your body halted and trembled, even as you struggled to find air, the object still held your cursed energy and your eyes kept burning with ire.

“Now this is getting fun”, Sukuna giggled as his four eyes scrutinized your form. He found that the way you resisted was pathetically adorable as if he had just caught an insect with the pads of his fingers, one he could squash in less than a second.

“A hairpin infused with cursed energy? Creative, I’ll give you that, but so stupid. You thought you could kill me? With a hairpin? That’s a little insulting to say the least ” His tone was mocking and condensing, his tongue lacing the words with venom. With his hand still choking you, he brought you closer.

He made out the words ‘fuck you’ from your lips, which just made him laugh some more. You raked your fingernails across his arm in agony, trying to tear apart his skin. Such a feisty lady.

The King of Curses made sure to glare at you right in the eyes with false pity as he spoke, “For someone who would rather die, you sure are putting on a pathetic display as you are giving it your all for some air”.

Something about his words resounded deep within you. A truth you wanted to deny yourself in the name of your parents. Everyone died whilst fighting and here you were, the least you could do was join them and honor their dignity!

Your eyesight was getting clouded with dark spots due to the lack of oxygen, but your ears were keen to the following words, “Hmm? You want to live, don’t you?”

Sukuna hummed the words as he was drowning in the details of your bodily expressions as you gasped for a last breath of air. He had taken many lives, some squealed like lowly pigs at the slaughter, others simply gave up, but some put up a fight, or some sort of resistance. Yours was such a case, in which you’d put on a brave facade, acting tough and daring, but deep down you wanted to survive and live on so, so badly.

He could see it in the diminishing fire of your eyes, and how the cinders of fear and regret took over. You were beginning to question yourself, to panic. And Sukuna relished in it, took all in.

“So? What will you---“

Sukuna blinked his eyes and tilted his head downward upon the feeling of someone tugging on his yukata. “Please forgive her, my lord! I am sure she is just nervous, please reconsider it!”, at the level of his feet, the old man that had delivered his sacrifice was clinging to his ankles. His nose was buried in the fabric of his clothes, and Sukuna gagged in disgust.

“Spare her foolishness! I am certain of her capability to–”

“Silence, you fool”.

The voice of the King of Curses dropped decibels lower, lacking any twisted humor and simply on point. His eyes held no emotion but irritation, his face was relaxed but his eyebrows and mouth were lined straight. Sukuna was serious.

His voice boomed through the hallroom, and you heard the way everyone dropped to their knees again. Your uncle hit his forehead on the floor with a loud slap and he shook like a leaf. A leaf to be trampled on.

Sparing you no other glance, Ryomen Sukuna threw you to the side of the room like a mere toy. Your back crashed against the wall and upon impact. Air was knocked out of your lungs once again and you howled silently in pain, unable to produce a sound. Your body coiled in itself as it attempted to reduce the pain, and you coughed furiously.

Your eyes blinked a couple of times, making feeble attempts to open fully- but all you could see was a blurry mist, in which you only figured out the characteristic pink hair and monstrous build of the demon. You noticed your uncle at his feet, without really thinking, you reached out your arm to him and stretched it wide open. It collapsed on its weight. All you could do was watch the tragedy unfold.

Sukuna kicked your uncle in the gut and he rolled back a few steps. He groaned in pain. He had no time to gather himself, for Sukuna kicked him once more. This time, in the ribs.

“You dare barge into my shrine without care, shamelessly bringing up an unsolicited offer. You were an idiot if you thought you would get something out of me. An alliance, or my ‘divine’ protection?” He sneered, “ You are the fool here. At least the girl stood up to fight, coward.”

Your uncle tried to shape words with his lips, tongue and teeth, but all that came up was splotches of blood and saliva.

“Uraume,” the Cursed King called out and from the shadows, a young man made his appearance at Sukuna's side. His odd light-blue locks cascaded down as his head was bowed, and his robes draped over his legs on the floor. His arm crossed over one of his knees, it was evident that he was awaiting orders.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Help me with dealing with this trash. I am fed up with this.”

“As you say, my lord.”

When he raised up his face, a sinister grin decorated his face. He lifted his body off the floor and dusted his clothes, making way towards the poor souls in Sukuna's hall.

“This one's for me to kill, and that girl over there-” the Cursed King pointed at you “- leave her be.”

‘Uraume’ nodded once more and muttered the loyal words. Without further haste, he launched himself to the rest of the people.

You struggled to stay conscious, the dissonance of horror enveloping you, though your senses were waning. The screams of terror, the sickening squelch of flesh and blood, the bone-chilling cracks—these sounds permeated your fading awareness. However, the overwhelming cursed energy in the air compelled you to regain consciousness. As if it kept your body awakened with its sheer presence.

Your tear-blurred vision flickered as you blinked repeatedly, attempting to adjust your eyesight to the scene before you. Regret – instant and churning painfully your heart – flooded your thoughts as you took in the gruesome scenery.

The room was a nightmarish maelstrom of chaos. Blood pooled around lifeless bodies strewn across the floor. Limbs and entrails laid in grotesque disarray. An overpowering metallic stench overtook your sense of smell, assaulting your nostrils with the unmistakable scent of iron.

You longed to turn away, to escape the horrors unfolding before you, but your body remained unable to move itself. You were far too hurt. Wide-eyed and trembling, you observed that many bodies lay headless, including your uncle's.

His severed head stared right at you, a loud but silent testament to the brutality of the carnage. The weight of the guilt sinked deep within you, the cold look on your uncle’s corpse blaming you.

Your shoulders slumped, and despair welled up, but your body lacked the strength even to shed tears. You clenched your fists so tightly that your fingernails dug into your palms, an agonizing reminder of your helplessness.

"God... please," you whispered, your voice a desperate plea in the midst of the macabre scene. The last remnants of your clan, the servants, the soldiers, your own blood—their lives had all been snuffed out.

The once-proud [L/n] clan, now reduced to a memory, stood on the precipice of extinction. You were the sole survivor, a solitary heiress to a lineage of nothingness. The weight of this grim reality pressed upon you, though it felt like mere seconds separated you from joining the departed.

Alone and vulnerable, you embraced grief and awaited death.

"Wasn't that quite refreshing, Uraume?" Sukuna's voice rang out, his presence looming closer.

"It certainly was, my lord," Uraume responded, his words dripping with sadistic amusement.

You remained ensnared in your misery, dry tears long gone, your throat raw from unspoken anguish. As Sukuna drew near, his laughter filled the air. He crouched before you, his posture languid, his gaze filled with a sadistic fascination that thrived in your torment.

“Now, what will I do with you…” A reminder that you were at the mercy of the King of Curses. As he hummed with closed eyes, searching for answer in his evil mind, his clawed-thumb supported his chin as he tilted his head, his other arms resting over his knees. He was unfazed, lacking any remorse or guilt, he was amused. He truly could not care less about what he had done.

“Ah, yes!” he clapped his hands, eyes wide open along with a bright smile. He sought to meet your gaze, but your head hung too low to notice, and without warning, he raised it with his hand. He pinched your chin, puncturing his claws in your (color) skin. Perhaps, it would leave a scar, but that would heal. Unlike your heart, which would certainly have one– a nasty, deep one, for sure. One that would never heal.

Even though he lifted your head, your gaze refused to meet his. Your (e/c) were dull and empty, your eyelids were swollen and you were crestfallen. His red-eyes went to the side. It slightly irked him, he despised the weak and that face you held was the epitome of weakness. Yet, he could put you to greater use.

“Hear me out, girl” Ryomen Sukuna spat. His eyes glinted with malevolent intent, “You haven’t been the only one to come up to my shrine and be offered as a pretty human bride. But I fear there is just no more space in my harem and I have just enough servants… But I am missing a priestess for my shrine, someone to worship me and pray in my name. A human to set as an example for the rest, a shepherd for these pathetic, weak sheep.”

His tone holds mockery and his eyes hold mischievousness, an egotistical and narcissistic abyss that wants to be filled to the brim. He is asking you to strip off any remaining pride and honor, just to serve him.

“So what do you say? Who knows… if you do your job well you might get to live a little bit more…”

The King of Curses looked back to your face, you were bewildered and your features scrunched in disgust. Of course, Sukuna knew you would hesitate, you just need a little pushing around, “And if you don’t accept my kind offer, well, I could just have my fun with you before ripping you apart and ending your miserable life.”

You gulped. The implications of his word, ‘having his fun with you’, it sent shivers down your spine. It could mean anything, and nothing good for certain. You do not wish to die such a horrible death, what choice do you have? Being used by Ryomen Sukuna like a doll would be humiliating and atrocious, but serving him like a priestess would betraying your morals– yet, you’d live.

You would live to see another day.

You grimaced, a silent tear slipping down the corner of your eye, ‘I am sorry, Mother, Father, Uncle… everyone’

“I don’t have all day, girl”

“I accept”

Sukuna’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise as a cheshire grin spread on his face. He chuckled upon your despair, what more could the weak do than take the slightest chance to be spared? If you were stronger, you could have attempted to resist him, but you were not, you were at his mercy.

“Then bow your head to your new god and present yourself”. The sentence came in the format of a command, one so powerful it instantly made your elbows seek the ground and plummeted your forehead below.

“I am [Y/n] [L/n], heir of the [L/n] Clan.”

On the back of your head you felt a sudden pressure being forced, its flat surface made you believe it was one of his feet. “That name…”

The pressure intensified as he sank his foot deeper and rubbed it against your skull, his next words only aggravated the pain “Ah, yes! The [L/N] Clan, yes, I got word I killed two of their most powerful sorcerers, the heads of the clan nonetheless. It made it all the more funny, they were weakling scum. Pathetic really how the remains of their oh so proud clan, barged into my home pleading for mercy and now I have their daughter right at my foot to serve me.” His laugh was loud and boisterous, as if someone had told him the best joke around, his four eyes holding disdain and madness. His laugh continued to echo across the room, before dying down as he inhaled and exhaled, a smaller smile painting his face.

His four eyes looked down at you.

“You are now solely [Y/n], after all, no [L/N] remains… Stand up.” he removed his foot.

He ordered you to stand up and although your knees buckled, you managed. However, you remained your head low, avoiding eye-contact.

“Well, then. You ought to begin, your first task will be to clean up this mess. Leave this place spotless.” He said without a care of the bodies, without acknowledging the value of the lives he had taken. “Uraume, after she finishes give her further instructions, show her how things work around here.”

“As you wish, my lord”. The man with light-blue hair and peculiar robes showed himself again, this time, right by your side but not at the same level, a step in front.

“And [Y/n]- I despise incompetence”. His eyes shot daggers at your form and his voice rid itself of any sarcastic or ‘humorous’ tone, it was a very real threat. You gulped and nodded, bowing your head in an instant, but something about the way he said his words unease you– the gears in your head began shifting rapidly and you were quick to reach the conclusion, for your sake.

“Y-yes, my lord.” You copied this ‘Uraume’ man, and bowed your head further. The King of Curses chuckled.

“Very good, you are a fast learner it seems.”

Without further ado, Ryomen Sukuna walked away along with Uraume, who later came back to toss you cleaning supplies, a bucket of water and a broom and a rag- he disappeared with a twisted smile too, much like his lord.

You stood still there with the broom in your hands as by your feet, the severed head of your uncle kept staring at you. You rolled the sleeves of the ruined hanfu, and began to mop.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #self insert #yandere blog #yandere writing #yandere jjk #yandere sukuna #yandere sukuna x reader

507 notes · View notes

lunarlianna · 1 year

Text

Asteroid Circe

Now, moving on with our normal program of astrology and asteroid content. Here we have asteroid Circe and how I would interpret here in a natal chart. <;3

Asteroid number 34, Circe in a natal chart usually represents our inner which, our magical gifts and also can show where you feel isolated (this type of isolation can be from the outer world or self-imposed), also where do you fall in love to quickly. If conjunct the Asc, you can be quite intimidating. If conjunct the MC you can be seen very enchanting and be attracted to the occult. If conjunct the Moon you may prefer being a night owl and prefer the company of animals.

Asteroid Circe

Circe in Aries/1st house: If you are into witchcrafts, you most probably work with fire and red candles. You may attract people because of your leadership skills, your energetic aura and fun-loving attitude. Otherwise with this placement you may notice that others are intimidated maybe even scared by you.

Circe in Taurus/2nd house: If you are into witchcraft, you most probably are a garden which. You have a cosy like aura and people feel very comfortable in your presence. Usually, you may cook consciously or unconsciously with intention. You may like to collect crystal or river rock and be a pretty good manifesto for abundance.

Circe in Gemini/3th house: You may be very good at story-telling and have a really charming voice. Usually, you’ll be attracted in learning tarot and lucid dreaming. People are attracted to you because of your knowledge and intelligence. This placement might also indicate feeling isolated from your relatives or impose a self-isolation from them.

Circe in Cancer/4th: People are drawn to you because of your sweet nature and the sense of familiarity that they have when meeting you. Usually if in the 4th or conjunct the IC is an indicator of witchy lineage and you probably work a lot with the Moon energy. Otherwise, you are a healer and can help others heal their mother wound.

Circe in Leo/5th house: You may be attracted to meditation, energy healing and may practice specific manifestations technics. People usually are attracted to you without knowing exactly why. They feel you warm and shiny aura, they just want to revolve around you. You may also like to collect occult objects.

Circe in Virgo/6th house: You may be interested in homeopathic medicine and alternative healing. You may have a specific everyday routine regarding manifestation or working with crystal or herbalism (ex: You drink a specific tea every day or put cinnamon in your coffee). Circe here can also make you feel isolated in your work life and with your colleagues or you may isolate yourself. Animals are really attracted to you or you may like to have pets.

Circe in Libra/ 7th house: You have a light hearted aura and people are drawn to you. You may be very good at identifying good romantic matches between people or you may work with tarot, astrology etc in order to help others navigate their relationships. If conjunct the DSC, people will have the tendency to be obsessed with you. As a witch you may want to be part of a coven. Also, you may tend to fall in love pretty fast.

Circe in Scorpio/8th house: You may be into really dark occult art and work with divination/entities etc. People are attracted to you because of your loyalty and determination. You can be an energy healer or a shaman due to your transmutation power. Sometimes people may exclude you or you can exclude people because of your practice.

Circe in Sagittarius/9th: You can be a living human lie detector and have a very good intuition. You attract people due to your optimistic aura. Astra-projection may come easy to you and you may astral project from a young age, try to ground yourself very good before going to sleep. You can be a great mentor or a teach for those that are willing to learn under your guidance.

Circe in Capricorn/10th: With this placement you may be prone to be highly influential and very keen to success. As a witch you probably make great spell-jar for money or you manifest money without trying to. Sometime this placement can indicate feeling lonely in a room full of people. If conjunct the MC you’ll be recognized in the occult world very easily.

Circe in Aquarius/11th: This placement can indicate a passion for astrology or working into astral world. You attract people due to your intelligence and creativity. Sometime you may isolate yourself from your close friends. This placement can indicate an interested in being on social media platform talking about the 1000 ideas you have in your head.

Circe in Pisces/12th: This is a very spiritual place for Circe. Here she is highly empathetic, dreamy and highly intuitive. You know immediately if someone changed their energy towards you. You may have lucid dreams and have a great connection with the spirit realm. You tend to escape a bit to much in the astral world and also isolate yourself. You may dream of your partner before meeting him.

Do not copy my posts or you will be sued for copyright infringement. All it takes is copying me a few times and it is considered illegal due to the copyright claim written at the bottom of my posts

Do not rewrite/copy my observations and post them to your Tiktok, Tumblr, Instagram

#astro notes #asteroid #all signs #astro placements #astro observations #astrology #astro community #astronaut #astro posts #circe goddess

536 notes · View notes

nobrashfestivity · 10 months

Text

Inuit carving of a tupilaq (spirit), from Argnagssalik, East Greenland, 1931–32. National Museum of Denmark.

In Greenlandic Inuit religion, a tupilaq (tupilak, tupilait, or ᑐᐱᓚᒃ in Inuktitut syllabics) was an avenging monster fabricated by a practitioner of witchcraft or shamanism by using various objects such as animal parts (bone, skin, hair, sinew, etc.) and even parts taken from the corpses of children. The creature was given life by ritualistic chants. It was then placed into the sea to seek and destroy a specific enemy.

The use of a tupilaq was considered risky, as if it was sent to destroy someone who had greater magical powers than the one who had formed it, it could be sent back to kill its maker instead, although the maker of the tupilaq could escape by public confession of their deed.

Because tupilaq were made in secret, in isolated places and from perishable materials, none have been preserved. Early European visitors to Greenland, fascinated by the native legend, were eager to see what tupilaq looked like, so the Inuit began to carve representations of them out of sperm whale teeth.

Today, tupilaq of many different shapes and sizes are carved from various materials such as narwhal and walrus tusk, wood and reindeer antler. They are an important part of Greenlandic Inuit art, and are highly prized as collectibles.

#inuit art #tupilait #tupilaq #tupilak #demons #spirits #inuit religion #carving

333 notes · View notes

mcmuerteflurry · 1 year

Text

Lobo/muerte/death handlers HC-GN victim reader- muerte speech

!CW: suggestive and possible NSFW and google translate!

Whistling will be one of the most common sounds you’ll hear in a daily basis

You have to either be the most interesting being in existence or a Cupid must’ve used their most powerful arrow and ran out along the way

Perhaps one of, if not, the most dangerous in the Shrek universe

Would commonly call the victim conejito (bunny in Spanish) in a mocking tone

Running only motivates him to chase

An example you tried escaping him

“He will cling on to you like a demon in love with a religious woman”

Possibly going to any religious professional or spiritual professional such as a shaman or a fortune teller would all have their thoughts and astral minds clouded on your situation

It is merely impossible to escape the images of muerte wether it’s paintings, cards, cups or even posters the victim will see him everywhere

No tailsman or any religious or protective relics can save you from the personification of fear and death

The victim should get use to being in a continuous state of fear

The first time the victim hears those answers they’re at the state of confusion or laughter either way it doesn’t end right

Victim’s first time hearing the whistle placed them in the state of panic attacks or even anxiety attacks for their words are true

“Do not indulge with him for his appearance is most appealing”

“Mi amor engulf yourself in my aura for there would be eternal safety” he would announce with open arms that he has completely not recited for hours before introducing himself

“Do not feed to the delusion of his for it will consume you”

“I am indeed your one true love”

Mirrors are the reader’s worst enemy because muerte can watch them via the mirrors (like how some Jinns and demons can watch through the mirrors)

Tú pensamiento pobre conejito

Think someone can help nope! Not even witchcraft or a guillotine would get that wolf’s tongue out of your ass for as long as you cease to exist

Would destroy any form of communication with others because he believes “he knows better, he’s been on this planet since the beginning of time and knows every scenario by the”

He would hold the victim in his arms as a “protection” mechanism to make the victim feel safe in his delusions

“Mi amor, mi conejito I know what’s best for you, you don’t even have to repay me like those friends of yours just stay in my arms is all I’m asking for”

Any time you deny his assistance he would always find a way to get you to lean to him

Would purposely cause casualties to make sure you’re entirely dependent on them

“Mi conejito… I always knew they didn’t care for you only I care for you in the highest of levels because I am the only true love for you”

His sickles tallies the amount of family he has killed and is craving for many more to envelope their victim into isolation

I HC that he can interact with animals like how in some demonology books some demons can interact with someone via animals or revive and give messages

He says as the animal souls gave him the signal that your friend’s and family soul has reached the river to the ferrymen

Animal souls become a common visitor wether it is a message with gifts or regular message

You haven’t touched your drink you okay mate

The victim is either avoiding some pubs or finding hidden ones

The victim attempted to stand up and walk away but was soon stopped by a pair of arms gripping the side of their waist

Muerte’s breathe brushes against the victim’s ears

“mi conejita donde pensaste que podías correr” (my bunny did you think you could run)

Muerte would coo nothing less than sweet things whilst their hand explore the victim’s body

The victim’s breathe hitch as they try to stabilise themselves causing the bartender to question them in concern

“No one can see us so why don’t we continue this somewhere”

I don’t want to do this to you but you need to learn

If the victim managed to run that’s a miracle but disguised as a curse (Some NSFW)

Scenario A

The victim’s back has been slammed to the wall of an alleyway late at night during a festival

The victim’s hands above their head and Muerte’ touches teasing the victim under their cloak

The area getting steamy with huffing and yelps

Scenario B

The victim cannot find a proper disguise thus steals the poncho/cloak to hide in the crowd

The victim finally arrived to the back of a building to rest their breathing with their palms on the walls to avoid showing their face

“mi conejo, no puedes esconderte de mí, estoy tan en tu mente como en el área en la que resides” My rabbit, you can't hide from me, I'm as much in your mind as I am in the area in which you reside.

Was the last thing the victim heard before a leg was lifted and muffled moans escaped

“You look adorable in my poncho/cloak we should continue doing this for our ‘little sessions’ hm?”

Conclusion

“All I want from you is to act obedient and submissive under my rule is that too much to ask” he complains

He would throw the victim onto his back and walk back to an area where you cannot run nor hide

#death puss in boots #muerte x reader #pussylicker #puss in boots #puss in boots wolf #death x reader #puss boots the last wish #yandere #muerte yandere

384 notes · View notes

huramuna · 5 months

Text

selkie's song - chapter 3.

night's watch aemond x wildling shapeshifter ofc work is 18+, minors do not interact, lest ye be smited.

this is wholly inspired by lonelymagpies depiction of Night's Watch Aemond. please go check out their beautiful work here!

more worldbuilding and a deeper delve into aemond and euna's ever changing dynamic + a battle! i'm terrible at writing combat so i hope it isn't too egregious. one of the songs of this chapter is "skinwalker" by robbie robertson. i used to listen to this to fall asleep as a kid, hehe.

previous | next chapter

word count: 3.7k

content: smut (eventually, specifics will be under the cut of chapters with it), enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, canon divergence, ofc is a menace to Aemond and he kind of likes it, graphic depictions of violence (this chapter)

(you're the) devil in disguise - elvis presley • skinwalker - robbie robertson

A swim always did well to clear her mind, her fur slicked back against her skin. Her nostrils were plugged close, taut against her muzzle as she bobbed and weaved through the kelp forest.

Breaching for air, the moon began to rise above the horizon, shifting the tides as it did every day. She needed to shake the exhaustion of the day by running herself even more ragged, testing her limits and gliding through the water like a falling star, the water swirling and flowing past her streamlined body.

Euna tried to delve deeper into the animalistic part of her brain– the part always there, scratching and screaming to be let free for every moment she was in her human skin. The sea called to her even when she was only feet away from it, even when she was miles inland where she couldn’t smell the salt any longer. A skinchanger always teetered the line between animal and human, an unskilled skinchanger could be stuck in their animal skin forever. Euna had been warned about this so many times by her father, but she didn’t see the harm in it. She wouldn’t totally mind being a seal forever, eating fish and swimming the expanse of the sea.

Her mind wandered back to the purple-eyed crow. She quite liked his scent, it was warm and heady, musky. It reminded her of sitting close to the fire and mayhaps singing the skin of her fish a bit too much under the flame, but it was still delicious and comforting nonetheless. Euna had met other crows before– some of them even lived at her tribe– but none of them were like him. Aemond. He even had a peculiar name. Ae-mond. She spoke it under water, bubbles whizzing out of her mouth and traveling to the surface.

His scent was warm and comforting, but his eye told a different story. His scar paired with his sapphire eye was unusual to her and she wondered how he lost it. When they had stared each other down earlier in the day, she could see shadows dancing past his iris, his pupil dilating in turn as he observed her, as if he was measuring her worth. Euna had stared into countless eyes, living and dead, but none entranced her so like his, reminiscent of a beautiful lavender flower that she liked to put in her tea or braid into her hair during the warmer months. Just past his pupil, the very edge of pain could be seen and she wondered if he saw ghosts dance just beyond his vision, taunting and haunting him just as she did. Could he remember their faces or were they just smudged, out of focus and just out of sight like her family was?

She still thought of them– her family, even if she couldn’t exactly remember. When they lingered in her peripheral and she would whip around to see them, they would disappear, dawdling just behind her. Over the years, she had come adept at shutting them out. Her papa told her she was sensitive to the afterlife just like their shamans were, but her power was untrained and rampant. She could quiet and dim the specters by swimming and overwhelming her other senses. She never saw them underwater and was ever grateful to the Gods that she could skinchange and escape them. But, every so often, Euna would smell something on the wind, something long locked away that would spring them back to life, their voices whispering to her– those would be times she would sleep in the kelp forest, hugged against stalks of algae, curled into herself and forgetting everything, turning off the human part of her mind and just living as she felt the Gods truly intended her to be.

Bobbing to the surface and taking in another gulp of air, she saw movement on the hilltop near the crest of the camp, overlooking the entirety of the valley. She smelled the air, expecting to inhale the familiar scent of her own tribe– a mixture of sea air and musk– but a pungent smell filled her nostrils. It smelled of burned bones and pervasive cracked pepper, mingled with stinging pine nettle. This wasn’t of her tribe, someone else was on the hill, observing. She blinked her eyes profusely, grumbling at the way her seal eyes couldn’t focus well outside water, everything above the surface. Even with her poor eyesight in this form, she could see multiple figures.

Diving back down, she plunged towards home, towards the sea door. It was a cave connected to her and papa’s house which led directly to the sea. It was built by Atohi for Euna to constantly have a way to dip in and out of the water with ease. She bursted out of the opening that filtered to the sea in the cave, drenched with water. It pooled at her feet and squished against the rocky ground as she flung open the sea door.

Aemond and Atohi were sitting around the fire, turning towards her direction as she all but barreled into the home.

“Euna? You look spooked– you see a whale?”

“No, papa,” she murmured, pushing away some of the wet hair sticking to her forehead, “Saw people. Smelled them. Those Haunted Forest fuckers are here– they must’ve followed,” she took a breath, her hands shaking slightly. Usually after a swim, she needed to eat profusely to regenerate all the energy burned– but there wasn’t time for that. Looking to Aemond, who’s cheek was puffed, fish cake in hand, “Can I trust you, crow?”

He swallowed the piece of cake, putting the half-eaten food down. “Unsure. Can I trust you?”

Euna groaned, pacing towards him. The sea water dripped from her body onto his leather clothes. “I don’t know– probably! That whole… killing you business, I didn’t mean it– just wanted to…” she growled, taking the Catspaw dagger still stashed at her hip, offering it to him, hilt first. Her hand was quivering against the handle, “I trust you. I probably shouldn’t– but I don’t have time to whine and moan about it. Please,” her voice was a hushed whisper, her mismatched eyes wide, her pupils trembling slits. “Help us.”

Aemond regarded her carefully, looking to the offered blade, then back to her. In his eye, she must’ve looked quite pathetic. She was soaked from head to toe, hair plaited to her face, her coat sticking to her like a second skin, eyes wild. Cautiously, he lifted his gloved hand and took the blade from her. “Very well. I’ll offer my assistance– only because your father has been courteous to me and given me the best meal I’ve had in moons. You are still a hellion.”

Euna let out a puff, nodding slowly. She turned to her father, “Papa–”

“I got it under control, Euna,” he responded gruffly, his hand going to his cane and twisting the bottom half from the top, revealing a sharpened dragonglass core. He laid it across his lap, crossing his arms over his chest. “I ain’t helpless yet.”

Aemond had a glint of amusement in his eye at the old man’s resilience, offering a hand to Atohi. “Thank you for the meal.”

“You’ll be back for another, son. Go kill some of those fuckers n’ I’ll make you up some of that fried venison we talked about.”

“You told him about fried venison– with gravy and rice? That’s my favorite!” Euna whined, then snapped back, “Not the time– let’s go, Aemond. You know how to wield a blade?” she asked as they stepped out of the abode, propping a stone against the corner of it.

Aemond gave her an unamused look. “Of course I do– I trained with the finest of knights in the Red Keep. My mentor is… was Ser Criston Cole,” he twirled the dagger in his hand, furrowing his brow, “... those words mean nothing to you. In short, yes, I can wield a blade. Mayhaps better than… what, those ‘Haunted Forest fuckers’?”

“Mmm, always encroaching. If you don’t know ‘bout us free folk, most are warmongering, always wanting what others have. We down here at the coast are pretty happy with what we’ve got– don’t want more than we need. All tribes aren’t the same, and many of ‘em are happy to kill and pillage and take and take and take…” her voice trailed off as she unsheathed her dragonglass dagger. Nodding her head to Aemond, they pressed down close to the cliff wall, making their way up to the hilltop overlook. “... not sure how many, be prepared, watch my back,” she whispered, “... please.”

Aemond gave her a stiff nod in return, wishing he had more than just the dagger to defend them– but he made do. Not only that, he had a small wish to show up the tiny wildling woman and show her that it was a fluke that she caught him in the first place. If she was only wielding a dagger, then so was he.

Finally reaching the crest of the hill, Euna saw five figures ahead, their torches snuffed into coals. They were about four feet away, the closest one crouched with his back turned. She slunk over the incline and lunged at the closest one, sinking her dagger into the base of his neck.

Aemond watched with a wide eye as she went feral, the tip of her weapon poking out of the front of the intruder’s throat– he made a sickly gurgling noise, falling to the ground before he could even grab his weapon. One of his companions looked over, hastily sparking flint to try and light their torches once more, but was met with a swift end by Aemond’s Valyrian steel, sliced vertically up his throat.

One of them managed to light a torch, whooping and hollering– there were more than five, at least four more filtering out from the sparse forest twenty feet away. Aemond reached down to the bleeding out wildling, grabbing the glinting steel at his waist. It was castle-forged steel, a shortsword no doubt pilfered from a crow– no, fucking Night’s Watchman, why did he think to call them crows?

Twirling the blade, he stowed the small dagger at his waist and steadied his form, his right leg behind him as one of the other wildlings came towards him. Their weapons clashed, steel against bone spear. The sheer strength of the man caught Aemond off guard slightly and it’d definitely been some time since he actually properly fought. Staggered, he whipped backward and parried the next attack, sending the pommel of his shortsword into the man’s nose, hearing the bone and cartilage crunch. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, his blood felt like it was on fire. He split the man down the middle, kicking him back to dislodge his weapon. He felt fucking good, he hadn’t felt like this since… since…

His mind flashed back to Storm’s End and he lost his train of thought, not prepared for the next opponent to barrel at him, broad-axe raised high. Aemond held up the length of his sword horizontally to parry or stagger– it did more damage to himself than his attacker, his weapon skidding off to the side. Everything felt in slow motion as he reached for the Catspaw dagger once more, only having seconds to spare before the axe cleaved him in two–

A flash went past him. It was white, furry and huge. The light of the fallen enemies revealed one of the largest wolves he’s ever seen– no, the largest wolf. It was a fucking direwolf. He’d only read about them in the stories, how Northerners kept them as pets until they went extinct. He watched the direwolf tear into the man’s neck, ripping sinew from bone until his screams died down. Then, it turned towards Aemond, padding slowly to him. Was he really about to get mauled by a wolf?

It sniffed him, a glint of recognition coming over its gaze. Aemond still had the dagger raised in a defensive position when he heard Euna yelling to him. His head swiveled to her– she was grappling the back of a wildling almost two times her size, drenched in blood and dirt.

“Ours, Aemond– wolf’s ours, n’ any other animals!” she shouted before sinking her teeth into the man’s shoulder, beating on his head with her fists.

Ours. Ours? What in the Seven hells did that even mean–

The wolf stood on its hind legs, taking the shape of a woman. She was older, hair peppered with white. She offered a hand to Aemond, “Smelled Atohi’s fishcakes on you– knew I didn’t have to rip your throat out too, eh?” she was wearing the pelt of a wolf, no, the wolf that she just was.

Cautiously, he took her hand, his eye wide.

“Euna ain’t told ya? Shit– it’ll be real clear in a minute, crow,” she gave a laugh, howling and wild, reminiscent of a wolf. “Arms up, more are comin’.”

Aemond watched as more men filtered out from the forest– but for every man that came out of the forest, at least two animals descended on them. His heart was thrumming in his chest, blood screaming in his ears. He watched two bears cleave down four men at once, a bison gore a man from the abdomen up, an eagle swooping from the sky and gouging out the eyes of an enemy, a mountain lion descending from a tree onto the back of some poor fucker.

His head was swimming– he must be going mad, surely. That must be it, he must be in some sort of bad dream and he would wake up at Castle Black again and be served shit slop for breakfast. His vision became fuzzy as the battle came to a close– their side was victorious.

“Aemond?” Euna called out to him, her voice sounding far away, “C’mon.” she interlooped her arm with his and pulled him up. “Ayita, will you tell papa everything’s alright? Crow’s moon-eyed, gonna get us cleaned up.”

“Sure thing, Euna.” the wolf woman from earlier nodded before shifting back into her wolf skin, dragging a lifeless corpse by the arm like a ragdoll.

Euna lead him up the cliffside to a rocky outcrop against a higher palisade, where there was a cave opening. Inside, it was lit up by some bioluminescent mushrooms, leading to a pool of water in the back. It was warm inside of the cave, like it had been at Euna and Atohi’s house– except there was no fire. Glancing at the pool, Aemond saw the steam rising from it. It was a hot spring of sorts, somewhat like the ones that supposedly were under Winterfell.

She placed him down against the cool stone wall. “... so,” she hummed, placing her hands behind her back, “... what do you think?”

He ran a hand through his hair, sitting against the wall with one leg out and one propped up, his knee bouncing. “‘What do I think?’ About what, exactly? That your tribe is full of skinchangers? That skinchangers are real?”

She shrugged her shoulders innocently. “Something like that.”

“... well. It is certainly a shock seeing a wolf turn into a woman and back again like its nothing– but… considering my family’s unique traits, it isn’t much of a stretch.”

“Unique traits?”

“We’re dragon riders. We have the blood of the dragon running through our veins and can bond with a dragon.”

“Dragon… riders,” Euna repeated, almost a little dumbfounded, “That’s weird.”

Aemond scoffed. “Your people turn into animals! That isn’t weird?”

“Nope.”

“Gods– okay, so do you turn into an animal, too? I didn’t see you tearing someone limb from limb as a… weasel.”

“Yes, I do. I’m not a fucking weasel,” she growled, crossing her arms over her chest, “You can quickly learn who in the tribe turns and what they turn into,” slowly, she peeled her cloak from her body– she was absolutely stained in blood– and showed it to him, exemplifying the webbed feet and small snout, “by the cloak they wear.”

Aemond stared at her for a long moment. Then, he burst into a fit of laughter– genuine, heartfelt laughter. His raucous chorting ricocheted off of the walls of the cave, booming around them. A tear formed at his eye. “Is that a… seal? A fucking seal– so, what do you do? Throw fish at your enemy? Splash water at them? Gods, that’s the most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

Euna glared at him, placing her cloak aside gently, making sure it was safe before she descended upon him, pounding her fists against his chest, growling and screeching. “Don’t be rude! I’ll fucking scratch your other eye out too, Aemond!” she hissed, her face contorted into a rage, her teeth bared and gnashing near his face.

He was still laughing, finding her rage amusing. He let her pound her fists on his chest until she exhausted herself. He grabbed both of her wrists and stilled them, earning him an agitated growl from her. “Calm down, pipsqueak. It ‘twas only a jest. I’m sure that… seals even have their uses amongst direwolves and cave bears, hm? Like bringing back tasty fish for your father to cook up– like a dog.”

Euna slammed her forehead against his, dazing them both for a moment. “Maybe I will kill you– you’re fucking rude, Aemond!”

“No, I don’t think you will.”

“Let go and I’ll show you.”

“Hmm. No.”

“Aemond.”

“No.”

Their faces were inches apart and Euna was snapping her teeth at him like some kind of rabid animal– she would be better suited as a snapping turtle than a seal, mayhaps. Aemond encapsulated both of her wrists in one of his hands, his other one coming under her chin to still her head, staring at her.

Her face was splattered with blood and dirt, her mismatched eyes staring daggers at him. Her chest heaved up and down from the exertion of her fit, the tension in her body relaxing as her breaths evened out. She sniffled slightly, pouting out her bottom lip. “I won’t kill you. Papa would be cross. He likes you.”

Aemond perked a brow. “He’s known me all for about four hours.”

“He is a good judge of character, I guess– I still don’t like you. But you can live.”

“Oh, I can? How gracious of you, little seal.”

“Don’t call me that. I will bite you.”

“Hm,” he hummed, letting go of her chin, but not before giving it a little tug and rasping his thumb over her bottom lip. “So how does it work? The… skinchanging?”

“It’s inherited– the pelts,” she explained after giving a little bite to his thumb before shoving off of him, pulling the leather cord from her braid and undoing it, her fingers parting her locks, “Passed down from generations, leading all the way from the children of the forest, who gifted a pelt of each animal to our ancestors.” she thumbed the drawstring to her shirt, undoing it and promptly taking it off, tossing it aside, leaving her bare chested.

Aemond’s eye widened, the tips of his ears warming before he looked away. “Fucking hell– have you no shame?”

Euna looked at him, puzzled. “... shame? About what? Baring my body without clothes?” she snorted, kicking off her trousers and throwing them at Aemond– they landed with a wet slap on his chest. “You kneelers are something else. A naked body won’t kill you, Aemond. Come on,” she dipped her toes in the warm pool before slipping in. She hung at the edge, elbows over the side, “You’re dirty and you smell like shit. Wash.”

He didn’t move.

“I won’t stare at your cock if that’s what you’re worried about, don’t matter if it's small or nothin’.” she giggled.

“You’re a fucking menace, you know that?” he growled, giving in to her goading— mostly because he was covered in blood and dirt and probably did smell like shit. He stripped out of his Night’s Watch garb, the cool air from the outside of the cave wafting in and chilling his skin. He was bare before her, and she kept her gaze above his abdomen, thankfully. As far as he saw anyway, she snuck a few glimpses between his legs out of sheer curiosity.

He sunk into the water, feeling the warmth wash over him. It was cleansing and calming, the heat permeating through his skin and bones to his very core. Aemond let out a drawn out sigh, as if some great weight had been lifted. His thumb hooked under his eyepatch and he tossed it towards where she had her coat. His head thrummed slightly, the weight of the sapphire pressing against his skull. Throwing all proprietary to the wind, he pried the gem from his socket, rolling it in his palm for a moment before setting it aside.

Euna watched him carefully, most of her body submerged in the water. Her nose and eyes were the only things above the surface, her hair floating out around her in flowing tendrils.

They locked eyes for a moment and the world fell silent as she slowly waded towards him, her gaze wide.

He looked back down at her, feeling an odd stirring of something within him— the same thing he felt when he first saw her. His hand floated towards her, pushing her head above the water, his thumb grazing over her bottom lip again.

She bit it again, but not hard this time. It was soft, the pad of his thumb pressing onto the tip of her tongue as they came closer together. He smeared the wetness onto her lip before their breaths both hitched at the same time, lips melding together. They both didn’t know what sparked it, mayhaps the heat of battle, their blood cooling, but neither of them questioned it as their mouths moved against one another, the heat rising in both of them, the sound of the water swirling and the wet smacks of their lips and tongues dancing echoed in the cave.

Little did they know, lost in their sudden passions— they were being watched.

taglist: @heavenly1927

#aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #selkie's song

100 notes · View notes

tonythr · 6 months

Text

Sometimes you are so sad you turn into a game construct, and that's ok

Part of the reason I love Hollow Knight is that you never know when a certain phenomenon is a part of the game's actual lore or simply a gameplay convenience, but most of the time it's up to you to decide anyway. Like, yeah, I know that looking too much into what should be just a game mechanic and/or a simple animation effect makes you more of a clown than a lore master, but, honestly, at this point the entire fandom wears rainbow wigs and squeaky red noses in order to forget about the pain of no Silksong, so no one has the right to stop me from having fun with some observations I made and how they might be intentional lore pieces. So yeah, what I'm trying to say is that this theory might be a bit of a stretch, but I think it's neat, so I'm gonna post it anyway.

Now, here's the question: what do you think these two have in common?

Both are very sad because they lost someone who was close to them.

2. Both give the Knight a Mask Shard when they die.

My theory here is that these two things are connected.

Now, Mask Shards are weird, lore-wise. The locations where they are found don't always... make much sense. Like ok, aside from the two that I mentioned above, we have ones that are found on top of ancient black statues — this implies that those shards are connected to (and probably were made by) the Ancient Civilisation.

We also have some shards that we get from various NPCs (Sly, Bretta, Seer) — those also make sense, since there's nothing wrong with those weird bugs possessing some ancient artifacts. But then we have Mask Shards that just kinda... float there.

No ancient pedestals. No reason to suggest someone actually owned them. No reason for them to be there aside from the game wanting to reward the player for something.

This is also true for some of the Vessel Fragments.

Although the fountain one is exceptional. The fragment is actually a part of the Pale King's statue, but it detaches once the needed amount of geo is reached. It looks like this statue actually 'gives' it to the Knight once it puts enough geo in the fountain. It could be something that has to do with PK's magic, or with the whole 'sacrifice' theme that's going on with him. Anyway, it's not hard to come up with an explanation for how that one works. What is more interesting is how these shards and fragments are created.

Because apparently this mf can just materialize them out of thin air.

Now, I KNOW this is probably just a nice animation to emphasize how cool of an award a mask shard is, but it also wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that what happens here is Grubfather actually manipulating Soul to create this shard for the Knight. I mean, Grubs do possess some sort of 'holy strength' that was never properly explained to us (that's why I'm hoping to see some grubs in Silksong), and one of the two charms created from their power is something that straight-up gives the Knight extra Soul. If we don't count the Shaman charms, which were used only to extract and use Soul more efficiently, the only other charm that does that is Kingsoul, the embodiment of the union between two Pale Beings. So yeah, the Grubs are totally OP, and Grubfather probably does create a Mask Shard out of Soul here.

Which only proves the fact that both Mask Shards and Vessel Fragments are made out of Soul. I mean, come on, the Knight literally consumes them just like it consumes each of the spells and the Soul of its enemies, AND it takes Soul to restore broken masks. I think it's safe to assume that those ancient masks that the Knight is using to strengthen its shell are made out of Soul, or at least some material that is heavily tied to Soul in some way.

Another fact is that those masks and vessels have big connections to the Ancient Civilisation. Aside from the obvious things like the fragment/shard statues that I mentioned earlier having clear similarities to the Soul totems, there's this whole thing with the engravings on those masks and vessels having a bunch of connections with magical secrets of the Ancient Civilisation...

What I'm getting at here is that the bugs of the Ancient Civilisation probably knew the secrets of manipulating Soul and used those secrets to create masks (for protection) and Soul Vessels (for containing Soul), as well as Soul Totems. It means there is a way a Mask can be created out of Soul, aside from what we see the Knight do when it heals (which is an interesting process, btw - when a mask breaks, the Knight can restore it using Soul, but it can't create new masks to have infinite HP, so the masks it collects must have unique properties that prevent them from being completely destroyed and instead allow them to be recovered after breaking). And maybe that process was already shown to us.

Ok, now I'm actually talking about my theory again. See, the reason I think there's more to these two moments than just a simple reward being given to us by the game is because there's some overlapping philosophical (symbolical?) motifs that connect Brooding Mawlek and Grey Mourner AND possibly give us a glimpse into the secrets of Soul discovered by the Ancient Civilisation. I'm talking about what Soul itself might represent as a sorta metaphysical concept (I don't know how to say that properly... Just bear with me pls).

In the world of Hollow Knight, there are many philosophical concepts that give depth to the nature of various in-world phenomenons. For example, the Void is heavily tied to regrets, perhaps dark memories that keep us from moving forward. That's why it makes sense that, ultimately, Pale King faced his demise at the hands of the Void - he sacrificed thousands of his own children in order to save Hallownest and failed anyway, so there is no way he could avoid (pun intended) being overwhelmed by his regrets about this whole thing.

The Soul is the power that contrasts the Void.

It's implied by Jiji that, when the Knight leaves behind its Shade, it starts to drain *hope* from it.

This line was probably left there to explain this game mechanic:

When the Knight dies, it can no longer fill its Soul meter to the full, until it finds and defeats its Shade. This implies that Soul represents *hope* in contrast to the Void representing regrets.

If we accept this assumption, we can see that it makes sense how:

The White Palace is shown as a beautiful, calm, hopeful place despite it being filled with thorns and sawblades (that might or might not be a metaphor for the PK's pain of trying to hide his mistakes and regrets).

The shamans' dying thoughts are often their last hopes of being free, being heard etc.

The Soul is literally what gives the bugs' bodies the energy to move.

I feel soulless when I wake up at 7 a.m.

All things considered, it's easy to see how Soul is something that might represent such things as hope, motivation, faith - all those feelings that make a person feel whole.

And when the fate forces someone into situations where those things are lost, their inner self breaks. When something separates us from our loved ones for a whole eternity, leaving us as lonely, empty shells of our former selves, our soul hardens.

We already know that masks in this game directly correspond to the person's self, their ability to define themselves as who they are. A mask is literally the core of the person's mind.

And when a person breaks, when their hope becomes eternal sadness, when the essence that animates their body becomes a solid rock, their mind shatters, leaving only a single shard of what should have been a whole mask.

Perhaps, something like that also happened to the bugs of the Ancient Civilisation? Or maybe they found a way to control that sadness, just like they found a way to manipulate the power of regrets? They look like a bunch of cool goth bugs, so I wouldn't be surprised if that was their thing.

TL;DR: ancient masks that the Knight uses are made out of Soul, and Soul is a power that represents hope. When a person experiences a feeling of strong loneliness and hopelessness, their mind literally breaks, and their Soul literally hardens, resulting in the creation of Mask Shards. The bugs of the Ancient Civilisation might have known this.

Kinda edgy.

I like it.

#hollow knight #hollow knight theory #hollow knight lore #silksong #grey mourner #brooding mawlek #grubfather #mysterious ze'mer #hollow knight ancient civilization #hollow knight masks lore

112 notes · View notes

talonabraxas · 6 months

Text

Huginn and Muninn Odin’s Ravens

Not merely perched by Odin’s shoulders, I believe it’s fair to say that Huginn and Muninn are fylgjur of Odin. Acting as extensions of Odin himself, they were his eyes and ears across the nine realms.

The fylgja (plural fylgjur) is the concept of the companion spirit, often in animal form, following you through life. The Norse believed everyone could have them, but at least for humans, they were mostly spirits. For Odin, arguably the most powerful Seidr shaman of Norse mythology, it seems only natural he would have fylgjur with him.

Acting as Odin’s eyes and ears, Huginn and Muninn would travel the nine realms every morning, gathering information for him. When riding into battle, they would also go with him, just like his wolves Geri and Freki followed him.

However, different from Sleipnir for example, they were much more than just animals associated with Odin, they represented him. When seen on a battlefield, ravens were seen as there on behalf of Odin or being him in raven form.

Odin was so closely associated with his ravens that one of his many names was actually Hrafnagud, Raven God. This is found in the Gylfaginning, part of Snorri’s Prose Edda.

95 notes · View notes

bestiarium · 17 days

Text

Taqqiq, the moon spirit [Inuit mythology]

Ever-present in the night sky, the moon plays a central role in countless folktales and myths from around the world. In native Inuit religion, the moon is inhabited by an Inua (supernatural spirit) named Taqqiq, which literally means ‘moon’. This enigmatic but benevolent creature watches over humanity and is responsible for guiding the souls of the dead to the afterlife. He once was a mortal man, and his transformation into the moon spirit is the subject of several different stories. Details differ, but a common version has it that he lusted after his own sister, Siqiniq. According to one tale, he made his advances at night, when it was too dark for her to recognize him. But Siqiniq was clever and smeared her body with black soot. The next morning, she saw Taqqiq’s face was blackened with soot and realized that it had been him. He chased her and she fled into the heavens and turned into the sun spirit.

Taqqiq, still chasing after her, followed his sister into the sky and eventually became the moon spirit, ironically reflecting his sister’s fate. He deeply regrets his actions and tries to make up for them. Perhaps because of this, he is said to sometimes descend to the Earth when women are abused and then saves them. Sometimes, he takes them back with him to the moon, where they live happily as Taqqiq takes care of them.

His outfit is made with gorgeous white fur, and Taqqiq himself is said to be particularly handsome. In some stories, he is said to travel with a troupe of dogs. It is unclear to me where these dogs came from, but they are particularly powerful and large.

The moon spirit is also associated with the hunt: the Polar Inuit believe Taqqiq brought wild animals to the world of the living so that humans could hunt and eat (hunters would sometimes offer prayers to thank him), and in the belief of the Inuit of Baffin Island, these animals are specifically mentioned to be caribou and seals. Iglulik Inuit believe that Taqqiq would bestow good fortune on seal hunters, whereas the people from eastern Greenland believe him to bless whale hunters. Taqqiq is often depicted with his signature whip, which he uses to hit young boys, as it is his role as a spirit to harden them into strong hunters. While this is a harsh (and presumably very traumatic) way to teach a kid a lesson, Taqqiq is regarded as a protector of young boys and defender of the weak.

Source: Taylor, J. G., 1997, Deconstructing deities: Tuurngatsuak and Tuurngaatsuk in Labrador Inuit Religion, Études Inuit Studies, 21 (1/2), pp. 141-158. Christopher, N., 2013, The Hidden: a compendium of arctic giants, dwarves, gnomes, trolls, faeries, and other strange beings from Inuit oral history, 191 pp, p. 178-181. D’Anglure, B. S. and Philibert, J., 1993, The Shaman’s Share, or Inuit Sexual Communism in the Canadian Central Arctic, Anthropologica, Canadian Anthropology Society, 35 (1), pp. 59-103. (image source: Christopher Stevens, painted for Pivut Magazine, Copyright Inhabit Media)

#Inuit mythology #spirits #mythical creatures #mythology #world mythology #myths

33 notes · View notes

thejournallo · 6 months

Text

Explain the basic: The various practices

Let's dive into it right away!

Disclaimer: Everything I will talk about in this post is all information gathered from books and online research on affidable sites. Please be aware that when reading and learning about witchcraft, you have to have multiple sources of information to learn from. I will always be here teaching, but out there are people doing the same things! (have multiple sources to learn)

In my last post about witchcraft, I talked in a general way about what witchcraft has in itself and what there is to study and know. Now we are going to talk about the many ways a witch can practice, discover, or try along the journey of becoming a witch;

Wicca: Wicca is a modern pagan witchcraft tradition founded by Gerald Gardner in the mid-20th century. It involves the worship of nature and a dual deity, the god and goddess. Wiccan practices often include the use of rituals, spells, and the observance of the Wheel of the Year.

Traditional Witchcraft: Traditional witchcraft is a term used to describe various pre-modern and folkloric practices that have been passed down through generations. These traditions often focus on practical magic, herbalism, and working with spirits and ancestors.

Kitchen Witchcraft: Kitchen witches focus on magical practices that revolve around everyday activities, such as cooking, cleaning, and gardening. They believe that magic can be found in simple, domestic tasks.

Hedge Witchcraft: Hedge witches often work with the spiritual world and practice divination, trance work, and shamanic journeying. They are known for their ability to "hedge ride" or travel between realms.

Eclectic Witchcraft: Eclectic witches draw from various traditions and practices, creating a personalized and unique path that suits their beliefs and needs. They may combine elements from different traditions and adapt them to their own practices.

Shamanic Witchcraft: This combines aspects of shamanism with witchcraft. Practitioners may work with spirits and totem animals and engage in journeying and spirit work.

Ceremonial Magic: Some witches incorporate elements of ceremonial magic into their practices, including the use of complex rituals and symbols and the summoning of spirits or deities.

Solitary Witchcraft: Many witches prefer to practice alone and are known as solitary witches. They create their rituals, spells, and magical practices without belonging to a specific coven or tradition.

Green Witchcraft: Green witches focus on herbalism, plant magic, and nature-based spirituality. They often work with the energies of the Earth and its natural elements.

Hereditary Witchcraft: Some individuals claim to have hereditary witchcraft in their family, passed down through generations. These practices can vary widely but often emphasize the importance of family traditions and rituals.

Chaos Magic: Chaos magicians embrace a more experimental and eclectic approach to magic. They often believe that belief itself is a powerful tool for creating change.

Modern Witchcraft: In recent years, witchcraft has experienced a resurgence in popularity, with a focus on self-empowerment, feminism, and personal transformation. This modern form of witchcraft often incorporates elements from various traditions.

Obviously, as there are many types of practices, there are many types of magic:

Black Magic:Black magic, also known as "dark magic" or "left-hand path magic," is often associated with practices that are considered harmful, malevolent, or morally objectionable. It is believed to involve the use of supernatural forces or rituals to bring about negative outcomes, harm others, or achieve selfish or destructive goals. Examples of practices associated with black magic may include curses, hexes, necromancy, and invoking malevolent entities. These practices are often intended to cause suffering, illness, misfortune, or even death.

White magic: White magic, also referred to as "light magic" or "right-hand path magic," is typically associated with practices that are viewed as benevolent, healing, and morally acceptable. It involves using supernatural forces or rituals for positive and ethical purposes. White magic includes practices like healing spells, protection rituals, divination for guidance, and benevolent energy work. It aims to promote well-being, positivity, and the greater good.

Blood magic: Blood magic is a form of magic that involves the use of blood, either the practitioner's own blood or the blood of animals or other individuals, as a powerful and symbolic component in rituals and spells. Blood is believed to have a strong connection to life force and vitality. In blood magic, it can be used for various purposes, including sealing oaths, making pacts with supernatural beings, enhancing the power of spells, and connecting with ancestors or deities. (NOT EVERY DEITY WILL ASK YOU FOR BLOOD. THIS IS A TYPE OF MAGIC TO LOOK UP BEFORE YOU START. Blood is a POWERFUL intrusion.

Candle Magick: This type of magick involves using candles of different colors and inscribing them with symbols or intentions. The flame and wax are used as tools to manifest one's desires.

Sigil Magick: Sigil magick involves creating a symbol, or sigil, that represents a specific intention or desire. The act of creating and focusing on the sigil is believed to help manifest the desired outcome.

Crystal Magick: Crystal magicians work with the energies of crystals and gemstones to promote healing, protection, and other intentions. Each crystal is believed to have unique properties and energies.

Elemental Magick: This form of magick focuses on the elements (earth, air, fire, water, and sometimes spirit) and their corresponding energies. Practitioners invoke and work with these elements for various purposes.

Moon Magick: Moon magicians align their magickal practices with the phases of the moon. They believe that the different phases (new moon, full moon, etc.) have specific energies that can be harnessed for different purposes.

Divination: While not traditional magick in the sense of casting spells, divination practices like tarot, runes, astrology, and scrying are often used for seeking guidance and insight into future events or understanding the present.

Necromancy: This is the practice of communicating with the dead or working with the spirits of the deceased. It can involve mediumship, seances, and rituals aimed at contacting or influencing spirits.

As said before, you are in complete control of your journey to try and practice whatever type of magic, but be respectful of the ones that are religions or traditions like voodoo or hoodoo.

Hoodoo and Rootwork: These are African American folk magick traditions that blend African, Native American, and European influences. They often involve the use of herbs, candles, oils, and other materials for practical magic.

Voodoo and Vodou: These are Afro-Caribbean religions that incorporate magickal practices. They involve working with spirits, ancestor veneration, and ritual practices.

I added a little more of what I should have added as a priority, but I think this is all for now. In case I find anything new, I will add to it and try to explain as well as I can.

As always, have a wonderful day or night! I will love to know your thoughts, and I will be here in case you have any questions.

102 notes · View notes