The wood box was carved w/ runes. The lock opened w/ a word & the witch’s blood. After 13 moons, it was done. She cut out her own heart, locking it in the box. Later she’d hide it leagues away. Let the witch hunters come now. W/out her heart, they can’t harm her
#vss365 (31 July)
The first lash burned through her, & she sunk into the pain. Coliu was skilled at wielding the spines, traveling up & down Setch’s back. Finally Setch began to purge. She cried over what she felt was a betrayal of her goddess, and she spoke of shame. #ThruLineThurs
The moon was starting to set, and the bonfire was only embers. #Storyin12
Coliu began the invocations to Itz, begging he purge the supplicant of her wrongdoings. The incense burned, and great clouds of the sticky, sweet herb filled the room. She chanted and prayed, while she selected her tool. Every altar room held a basket of fresh scourges
Sometimes Herne leads the Wild Hunt, sometimes a Queen of Faery sometimes Woden, sometimes Archangel Gabriel, and sometimes the devil himself. Once the Queen old Elphame who lead the hunt and lost her mortal lover Janet.
In the US, witches are using today’s fireworks for spells.
#hangtenstories 580 fireworks (4 July 2018)
At the sabbat, Grace wore a crown of purple aconite. She danced naked, skin slick with flying ointment and sweat. Her purloined penis, attached to her mons, pointed its purple head at Amity and Mercy, and both witches twined their ointment slick arms around Grace.
Witches had a variety of familiars. Charity’s favorite was Reverend Burroughs’ purloined penis. She’d stolen it from him in the woods one night. She kept it in a cotton lined box feeding it milk every morning. Every night, she took it from its box to play.
Araceli came from a long line of brujas. Her abuelas for generations passed down their spells & recipes in one box because the two are the same. She squints at a scrap of paper, covered in faded ink wondering where she could get a black llamas at this hour.
The chalice was filled wine. As the moon rose, the witches began chanting. They poured their energy into the cup until it brimmed with magic. They drank, each taking a mouthful before falling writhing on the ground. They found their feet, now four, not two and howled.
At the feast of Lammas, witches celebrate with singing ballads to John Barleycorn. They broke bread and sang long into the night. The bonfire flames sank to embers while their passion flared. with couples and groups slowly laying before the fire in lust and worship.
The Queens of Faery could not tell lies. Yet the words of the Døkkálfar and Ljósálfar, the Summer and Winter, even the wild Fey could never be trusted. When Eufemia, Queen of the Døkkálfar, spoke a prophecy of a fey ending war, no one knew what to make of it.
Grace called Greymalkin, as she lit the candle. They both knew what was coming, and both were excited. Grace stroked the cat as she spoke her spell. Her consciousness shifted and she was inside of the cat. She padded on borrowed paws into the night.
Samantha walked to the small cemetery. Under the light of the full moon, she watched the rabbits dance. They leapt and rolled and somersaulted in lapin rapture. She watched in utter delight, waiting for their revels to end so she could collect their fur for her spell.
As she watched Anubis moving behind Colin, his erection still glistening with Colin’s spittle, she understood. Colin closed his eyes as Anubis began pressing his cock into Colin. Vicki bit her lip, both aroused by what she watched and concerned for Colin.
The Queen of Elphame selected a slice of honeydew, feeling the juices run down her fingers. She held the melon to the lips of her mortal lover. “Eat my love” the Queen purred. Lizzie, with tightly closed lips, shook her head. She knew to eat in Elphame was death.
She shuffled the cards, feeling the slick squares pass through her fingers. Then she cut the cards and started to draw. She laid each card in its place, and then set the deck aside. She flipped each in turn, reading her future. The Moon, The High Priestess, & Strength
The chains that bound Simargl bit deep, and threatened to strangle him. He stared out from between the stars, the bars of his cage. He paced its length while the music of the sea tides reached his sensitive ears. He watched, waiting for Zorya to blink. She never did.
Zorya stared into the night sky. Her eyes tracked the constellation where Simargl, the winged dog who was sometimes a winged lion, was bound. She watched through the cold night as the stars wheeled above her and the music of the spheres rang in her head.
She sits in the cemetery, back resting against an old gravestone. Her notebook open as she scribbles her spells and thoughts and ghostly whispers. She insists she’s not a
#writer, and only shares her scribbling under a pseudonym. #vss365
Scholars and laymen alike seen more interested in her life than in her poetry. Was she? Wasn’t she? Did she? Didn’t she? All the exquisitely crafted verse and meticulously selected words reduced to watercooler gossip. Was she? Wasn’t she?
She shuffled the cards, feeling the slick squares pass through her fingers. Then she cut the cards and started to draw. She laid each card in its place, and then set the deck aside. She flipped each in turn, reading her future. The Moon, The High Priestess, & Strength #vss36
Deep within the woods, there was a chimney and the corner of a stone wall. It was a ruin, a forgotten place that was once someone’s dream. Yet under a dark moon, it found new life as a lover’s meeting place, a witch’s church, and a place of childhood dares. #vss365
The chains that bound Simargl bit deep, and threatened to strangle him. He stared out from between the stars, the bars of his cage. He paced its length while the music of the sea tides reached his sensitive ears. He watched, waiting for Zorya to blink. She never did. #vss365
Zorya stared into the night sky. Her eyes tracked the constellation where Simargl, the winged dog who was sometimes a winged lion, was bound. She watched through the cold night as the stars wheeled above her and the music of the spheres rang in her head. #vss365 #myth
When Queen Mab called her court to attention, she would brook no disruption. No, the eternal machinations, intrigues – the ceaseless gossip and shifting loyalties so conveluted and complex not even the Queen could sort out allegeinces. #vss365
There’s a door at the end of the universe, and there is one key and many keys. All the psychopomps and deities of death hold the keys. They ferry the fallen, the forgotten, the dead through the door. And they wait until the end of the universe. #vss365 #sunscribbles
I can read the future in tea leaves or tarot cards. I can see tomorrow in smoke and candle wax. I can read my past in my face and eyes. I can see yesterday in missed opportunities and failures. When I see the moon, I only see now. #vss365
As she said the prayer a third time, her voice rose, carrying over the courtyard. She finished her prayer her eyes trained on the altar. She stared at its stained surface, and raised her hand over it. The stone was smooth, but the edge sharply cut. #WIPWordSearch #amwriting
At twilight, as the moon begins to rise and sun behind to set, the liminal doorways open. They open at the edges of woods, between sea and sand, between stone and sky. And after the war, they began to open between city and wilderness. #vss365
Inside her #Keep in Hades, Persephone laughs. The common story casts her as being taken against her will. But there is another story. One where it was her will to so utterly reject the role of Spring Maiden that she choose to the Queen of Death. #vss365 #myths
She dropped to her knees on the stone floor and waited. She served her goddess in this act, and that thought filled her with glory. She felt the wetness between her thighs, a religious ecstasy. #Thurds #amwritingfantasy Like this? Read more Temple of Twilight
Samantha scooped the mandrake flying ointment with one finger. She smoothed the herb and magic infused balm over her inner thighs and across her eyelids. Tonight, she would see through the veil and join her sisters at the sabbat. #vss365 Like this? Read more “Full Moon”
The beach was empty on the cold morning, but Sigli shed her shoes and what she little wore beneath the sealskin coat. When her bare foot touched the icy water, the coat cleaved to her. She was reborn. The seal vanished into the frothing sea. #TuesTropes Like this? Read more “Dressing Up”
Caroline had thought her confidence was an act. She used to feel like she was wearing a costume, even when she was nude. But it wasn’t an act at all. She’d finally found herself. #SockItTueMe
With her kingdom in the #Holloway Hills , Queen Mab weaves intrigues that span centuries. Without Tam Lin, her schemes grew darker, more cruel and lacking the temper of his humanity. #vss365
Samantha danced around the altar. The drums matched the drumming of her heart. Her blood grew fevered as she caressed and was caressed. She fell into the arms of another witch, kissing him passionately. Her blood thrilled as she felt a hand between her thighs. #vss365
The tides of the season turn, & the Queen of Elpham feels the winter chill leaving her blood. A blush colors her cheek, & she orders her attendants to cloth her in pale silks. Adorned, she crosses the veil into spring searching for a mortal lover. #vss365 #ostara #SpringEquinox
In a circle on the sand, they raised their arms, their nude bodies shimmered in the cold light, as they began to dance. One threw #sage upon the fire and another added mugwort. They twirled through the smoke, their thoughts expanding as the smoke filled them. #vss365
Slipping on the clawed gloves was the start, the shifting of her mind from human to other. She pulled the hood over her face. The heavy bird beak was at once familiar and alien. She cocked her head from side to side, growing used to the feeling. Then she flew. #TalesNoir
Setch listened to the flow of drums from the Temple of Midnight. It pulled her toward the Temple, but she found herself pausing at the threshold. Once again, she wanted to step onto the glimmering obsidian tiles. Once again, her goddess forbade her. #vss365 Like this? Read more Temple of Twilight
Hekate’s origins are lost to time. Those of Thrace or Lagina never cared about her questionable parentage – her Anatolian or even Egyptian heritage. She carries the keys to sorcery and witchcraft. At the crossroads, she both locks and unlocks the gates to the underworld. #vss365
Her parents, born decades to late to be hippies, had named her Aura. The new age resurgence in her teens changed her from outcast to embracing the world of crystals and vibes. Which lead to an adulthood of pulling rabbits from hats, never letting anyone see her real magic. #vss365
Everyday the light and dark grew closer together. Everyday the Earth grew a little warmer, and that warmth seeped into her blood. Pale jade plants inched their way out of the ground, and her desires inched their way out of hibernation. #vss365 #SockItTueMe
Standing barefoot on the cold grass, her naked skin is pale in the moonlight. Lighting a single candle upon her altar, she raises her arms to call upon the moon. She whispers her dreams to the gods. #vss365
Low cost DNA tests had made everyone obsessed with discovering their #roots. Lilith couldn’t care less where her DNA came from; her family had already rejected her. Knowing her chromosomes were shared with Nubians, Gauls, or even Martians wouldn’t change who she was. #vss365
Cupid’s mother, Venus goddess of #love, wasn’t in #love with her son being in #love with the mortal, Psyche. So she sent Psyche on an impossible quest to prove her #love. #vss365 #ValentinesDay2018
On Imbolc the clouds rolled in, and the moon gleamed behind the #patchy clouds. She stood nude in the cold darkness invoking the old gods. Those gathered began the dance around the circle. She felt the energy build, and at its peak she directed it forth. #vss365 #pagan #imbolc
Sitting in the yard, a small fire crackles in the cold. I am at #peace #vss365
The damp grass tickled her bare feet. Her cloak slipped off her shoulders and her skin
glowed in the moonlight. In worshipful song, she called her goddess. As a cloud drifted across the moon, she pinched out the candle. #vss365 #amwriting #goddess #fullmoon #magic
She slowly filled the cauldron, watching the liquid reach right to the #brim. She was careful not to spill a drop; Ceridwen had made that mistake before. #vss365 #amwritingfantasy #pagan
Samantha shrugged out of her cloak and stepped into her place in the #circle of witches. The woods seemed to hush for a moment as she raised her arms, and began the ritual. The gathered witches began their dance, naked bodies gyrating and twisting. #VSS365