— FOXLUNAR.
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@foxlunar
— FOXLUNAR.
home. ask. navigate. boundkrp.
— lesson 001.
a practical exercise on proper form and focus when casting protective enchantments in a group ritual. part of the INTERMEDIATE RITUAL PERFORMANCE course. [ feel free to use this as a base for your own solos, or reply for a thread! ]
“it’s imperative that you don’t lose focus”, she walks around the circle of witches, her voice echoing through the trees. the sun is almost completely set, and a couple students look visibly concerned. despite this being a very safe environment for a basic multi-layered protective ritual, not everyone feels safe in the forest at night, after all.
in the center of the circle rests a family of squirrels, blissfully unaware of their surroundings. the magic shield around them keeps them safe of environmental hazards, but leaves them open to receive the benefits of the ritual still. a little trick she was happy to pass along — one of those things that is so obvious in retrospect, but that you may never have thought of on your own when under pressure.
she looks at her clock once more, then smiles. “it’s time. in ten seconds, we will begin. keep your form and start your incantations. in three, two, one...”
with a wave of her hand, the sigil underneath them glows a bright hue of yellow. the students begin chanting the words they’d previously practiced in class, albeit a little hesitantly; hyejin has to walk behind a couple and help correct them so they’re in perfect unison.
once they’re halfway through with the enchantment, it’s time for the real test.
another swift movement and a few words under her breath, and she casts a massive wave of leaves and branches to hover over them, as if ready to attack. understandably, a couple students react instinctively to it and stop the chanting. “do not stop!”, she encourages them, “you must stay focused or the ritual ties will be broken!”
she can sense annoyance and frustration coming from some of the others, and she can’t help but laugh. she’d be lying if she said this wasn’t very funny to her.
the leaves and branches swirl into a new form in front of them, an arrow pointed directly towards the small animals still asleep.
“again!”
ensconced by haeun’s arms, nari’s mind retreats past the briary coppice that they’ve repurposed into their personal sanctuary. she lingers very straight and very still in unperturbed silence. the dwindling sunshine and the storm her contemplation foments. somehow it’s all so dense it shrouds even that aforesaid horizon, its twilight that nari had been waiting for.
“i want to tell you something about me.” nari says. her voice sounds revelatory, or maybe resuscitated. like she had gone somewhere else to look for whatever she was looking for and now, she had come back. empty-handed, of course. there is never really any journeying beyond the boundary she imposes upon herself in that mind of hers. never any leaving. elucidate a passageway where there is no exit and time is a circle the same way the sea is. there is no here to there or there to here. it is only there to there and here to here. the cyclical and cannibalistic ouroboros eating its own tail. grief then and grief now.
“i’m a killer, haeun.” nari’s confession is simple and meek—unbearable too, for some reason. she hurriedly interjects before haeun can respond. “somebody has died before because of me.” her intoned softness doubles somehow apologetically, dutifully: she tries to make it lighter than it is. lighter than she feels. perhaps the tenderest of all feathers refuged so closely like this, hopefully one of haeun’s better burdens. “my parents abandoned me when i was born and it’s been haunting me ever since. everything that’s happened.” quiet befalling them the same way earthly shadows do. still, nari has very sharp eyes with which she searches for haeun's face.
"what do you think of that?"
ah.
there it is. the reason behind nari’s intensity, and why her flight is so weighed down.
it explains so much, really. and for a split second, it does take haeun by surprise. everyone has secrets, of course — and she’d like to believe she’s gotten skilled at prying them out over the years — yet very few can make such claims. even fewer want to say such words aloud. it takes a certain brand of courage to do so. perhaps it is only possible when strongly tied to desperation.
past the initial shock, she finds that there is something within her tingling. it’s the excitement of knowing your prey is right where you want it, the certainty that preludes the leap aiming for the kill. haeun never imagined herself so addicted to this, but every little step that’s brought them closer together has been exhilarating, and this confession feels like they’re dangerously close to their destination.
in truth, haeun wants nothing more than for nari’s wings to spread wide, for her to soar past the ghosts of her past and the inevitability of her eventual binding. she wants the same for herself, and she will stop at nothing to set them both free.
her gaze lingers on every feature, one by one, studying how each muscle in nari’s face twitches and pulls the longer she holds the silence between them. her voice comes at last, as quiet as it is relentless, resonating with unbridled desire. “i think i could eat you up.”
their noses brush together. despite how hard she tries to keep her emotions in check, haeun can sense her own body begin to tremble. to see nari in front of her like so, to see her bare her soul like so...
intoxicating.
she wants to make her claim. but it is not time. not yet.
her grip tightens. her thumb runs across the other’s lower lip. “it’s not your fault.” she lets her words hang in the wind for a second before they’re taken away into the fading light around them. “it’s not.” she hasn’t heard the whole story, yet she knows that much is true. call it fox intuition.
instinctively, she wraps herself more around nari. “tell me. everything.” she finally breaks eye contact, only to breathe in the other’s scent at the base of her neck and up along her jaw. “don’t hold back.”
“i want it all.”
— unwanted.
with @glassmorphisms ! takes place two years back.
no.
haeun’s steps lead her back through the school gates as they’ve done so many times before, but she can feel in her soul that things are different now. there’s a new weight in her chest — or is it the same one as before, tugging her along as it’s always done? she’s not sure. she’s stuck in a trance. her limbs don’t feel like her own.
she’d heard from others that there were new students arriving. some of the familiars were happy about it; maybe this time they’d have a chance at a complete life, after all. haeun, on the other hand, hated those days and what they could possibly represent for her and her future, so she often hid away in the forest or even further away, in the small town nearby.
there’s no hiding now, though.
she spots a silhouette in the distance, one she’s never seen before, one she is drawn to like a moth to a flame. every sense in her being is screaming: part of her cannot wait for the figure to turn around, and the other part is too trauma-ridden not to be terrified.
the witch moves. his face comes into sight.
and then it happens.
simple as that. powerful as that.
tears begin to form. she wants to scream, but her voice is caught at the back of her throat. she wants to turn away, to run into the forest and burrow deep underneath the soil never to return, yet her body is frozen in place.
no.
there’s no stopping it. no going back. she can feel her life force shifting and changing within her. a warmth she doesn’t recognize spreading through her veins.
as she stares at the man in front of her, the undeniable truth in his eyes stares right back at her.
haeun is bound.
— SYLLABUS
hello and welcome to my class! i am proud and honored to be a teacher for this fine institution for yet another year. you know, i started out just like you, a student, a long time ago. i’d like to think i know a little bit more about magic now. i will guide you in your path to the best of my abilities. please never hesitate to ask for my help!
nowadays, most everyone has hyejin as a teacher at least a couple times during their stay at the academy: she’s in charge of the initial classes on ritual performances, a core skill that all students must learn. at the moment, she does not teach any expert-level classes.
in general, her magic isn’t thought of as groundbreaking or overwhelmingly powerful — though she can absolutely harness power from the moonlight to achieve great feats, her style is usually mellow and supportive of other strains of magic instead. she prefers casting magic that adds positive effects to targets, rather than removing (or adding) negatives. hyejin has no interest in seeking further empowerment for herself at this time, but she will gladly aid others in such pursuit!
— reminiscing.
with @pasdchat ! takes place a few months back.
haeun hates reminiscing.
it’s a waste of time, in her opinion. the past is the past, it’s gone, forever — there’s no point in dwelling in it. no matter how hard her nightmares might try to prove otherwise, she is and has always been adamant on marching forward on her own accord, leaving behind anything and anyone she doesn’t deem useful.
and yet, despite her best efforts, every now and then she finds her steps leading back to that same grocery store. echoes of the past plague her senses as she stares at it from across the street, her short red dress in stark contrast to the beige and grey tones of the small town near the school grounds. once upon a time, she would’ve proudly bragged about knowing every inch and nook of those streets.
haeun doesn’t know why she’s there. well, that’s a lie; she knows it’s because she misses him, but again, she’s not one to linger. “you’re being silly”, she scolds herself under her breath. and just as she is about to leave, the impossible happens. the past catches up to her in the form of a human man, walking out of the store, a bag of plum hard candy in hand. the same candy they used to share, hidden from the moonlight on random rooftops, all those years ago.
her heart skips a beat. it’s rare for her to be this taken aback.
“...wind?”
TAEYEON ‘Panorama : The Best of TAEYEON’ Prologue
WHIM with ...? open starter ( up to two )
free will exists, somehow. known by everyone, but forgotten all too easily to be used with abandon. he decides to use his at ass o' clock in the communal kitchen, forgetting time and place in pursuit of the usual rituals to start the day. on the stove, the kettle hums with each rising tick of the temperature; his hands busy with impatiently rummaging through the third line of cupboards.
so far, he's found: crumpled coffee filters, tinseled holiday favors from last year, a variety pack of stale granola, the lone pine cone (?), and not a single tea bag in sight. so concentrated he is in his unfruitful search that the distant-turned-not-so-distant steps pattering into the open space barely registers. moving, moving still until he zeroes in on heavyset canister sitting on the topmost shelf—aha!—remaining fully blind to the new presence. that is, until eunho turns around, and nearly jumps straight out of his skin, only the metal can beats him to the leap. it hits the floor with a louder than necessary clang, but not without bouncing off of his big toe in the process.
ow? would be the sanitized thing to spit out in the presence of proper company, but he hisses sharp against the pain, forgets better language completely. "fuck!"
it’s not uncommon for hyejin to be wandering the school grounds at night.
by now, no one bats an eye at it — not that they should, anyway, considering the entity that granted her her magic. once upon a time many years ago, a newcomer student could swear they saw in her a ghost dancing in the moonlight in the old lecture halls, before they had really learned about the true nature of life, death, and all that. the student was so adamant, however, that the rumors caught on. mostly as a joke by senior witches than anything, but still. that was a fun week for hyejin.
this time, instead of haunting a part of the school due for remodeling, she is simply looking to soothe herself after completing a particularly complex ritual. funny enough, she might as well be a ghost with how devoid of color and energy her complexion is. the night is still feisty, lingering magic threads from the blood moon event making it harder for her to tune in and hone its powers without great effort on her part. the ringing in her ears is particularly bad, too.
though it is briefly overpowered by a loud thud followed by a curse word.
hyejin is still standing towards the entrance of the kitchen area as it happens, and she watches it with tired eyes, barely registering the presence of another being until a few seconds too late. she can’t help a soft laugh before finally letting her gaze adjust to properly see the other. “i wouldn’t be surprised if the birds in the forest woke up from that,” she teases him before stepping closer, her expression turning sympathetic.
it had always been in her nature to care for others, and that only became more apparent once she graduated school and chose to stay there and teach. “that sounded like it hurt. would you like me to take a look at it?”
her reciprocity is gentle in kind. a single finger unfolds to caress the end of the vixen’s jaw, nari herself heretofore unfazed. the memory of haeun begins itself like waxing moonlight and perseveres just as timelessly, an everyplace radiance, permeating and somehow epitaphial, remembering: she knows her. in turn, haeun is known. what more is there than seeing and staying? could there be anything?
“... you are so shrewd.” nari murmurs, alight with the heartwarming breath of a short laugh that simmers. “as always,” her addendum; her same, solitary finger that traces the edge of haeun’s right eye. “for what, though? i’m sure it must exhaust you. i don’t particularly care for it either, you know.” that haunting shadow opens itself up like a gaping maw. nari envisions herself in a hapless plummet and when this moment passes, her tangible body refuges within the bounty of haeun’s own chest.
nari’s head is tucked tucked against her and a contemplative silence suddenly heralds a devastated gasp. her head creaks backward in a very slow tilt. “haeun,” nari says. “i want to show you. if i do, you have to promise that you won’t think of me differently. you are my friend, haeun. you know that? friends stay together. you know that. so,” nari says. she comes in even closer. “i have to trust you, haeun. can i do that? say yes.”
haeun finds it hard to follow through with the logic chain of the other’s response, as she would much rather just focus on the feeling of nari caressing her face. “nothing you do could exhaust me so”, she replies in that same tone coated with warmth. she hears more birds ruffling their feathers as they huddle up in their nests. then, for a second, it’s like time itself holds its breath for the two of them.
and all of a sudden, nari’s semblance shifts, as if she’s heard or seen something only available to her. it’s mesmerizing, to watch her delicate features shift into horror as she seeks solace into haeun’s embrace.
her intensity is intoxicating. it’s what keeps haeun coming back for more.
for a little while, all the fox does is hold the little bird closer. it’s not really her aspiration in life to be someone else’s safe haven like so, but she’s smart enough to understand these moments are necessary in order to break through to nari and get her to see the light for herself. then, as the other speaks, it’s haeun’s turn to run a finger over her face, playfully tracing the outline of her jaw, reveling in the anticipation that her own silence creates once the question is asked. she ends the teasing by gently bopping nari on the nose, and smiles. “yes.” she answers as simply as her gaze is fierce, her own face lingering as close as possible to nari’s without making direct contact.
...nothing bad has ever come from trusting a fox, right?
— recovery.
open starter with jung hyejin. takes place the day after the blood moon hunt.
the ringing in her ears is particularly dreadful today.
it’s like the moon itself has been torn to shreds and pieced back together by faulty magic, and its agonizing screams are being broadcast directly into her skull. it’s not the first time hyejin has to deal with the hangover of a blood moon, yet it hurts just as if it was. if not worse.
her light coat is barely enough to keep her warm, but her body would feel too heavy with any other layers. so she seeks the comfort of a beautiful sunny day, legs sprawled out in a comfortable chair outside. in the distance, mostly silence; a few students practice celebratory spells in a dorm room a few buildings over, staff members do their rounds around the school grounds, and even from so far away she can feel the forest animals breathing in relief after yet another successful hunt.
hyejin enjoys the fresh air while noting down what all supplies she’ll need to replace during her next trip into town. she’ll have to return to her duties soon, however, as there are a lot of ingredients to prepare before nightfall. being a moon witch means you are stuck brewing pick-me-up potions well past midnight for the handful of students that don’t handle the blood moon well.
well. does anyone, really?
before she realizes it, she is lost in thoughts again, the annotated notebook on her lap now mostly forgotten. and she only realizes it because she finds herself suddenly very aware of a set of eyes fixated on her. how long have they been staring? she’s unsure.
she bids her time. gives them a chance to move. ends up making a move herself. “you can come say hi, you know.” she is not angry — in fact, she’s mostly used to this kind of stuff by now. her smile is soft. her eyes never leave the horizon and the trees. “i’d love the company.”
“i don’t want to leave,” nari murmurs, her voice barely rising above the other voices. “not yet.” the indecipherable chatter between wind-rustled trees has only gotten louder in the hours that they have been outside here. in another place, still close enough, a stream stammers over bedrock to reply to those leaves. the woods are a good place. the woods are a living place. living like they are. she watches the boundary of the clearing because she won’t be able to soon. the sky is blushing. that means night is coming.
“besides,” she protests with just the hint of a smile betraying her pout. “you said you’d help me out and we still haven’t found anything.” not that nari herself has helped, anyway. the grass she’s laying in has been the same green cushion to sustain her as time dawdles on and her contribution amounts to really nothing but deleterious scrutiny. well, sometimes curiosity too. with her elbow nestled into the ground she builds a nest for her head inside of her palm.
an insect skitters by. she sits upright.
“don’t you think we should keep looking? i do.”
though her body is limp against the forest floor, haeun’s gaze is as sharp as ever. she is used to watching — always watching — she is at her most alert when she seems relaxed. in the distance, she can hear the last of the birds settling into its nest for the evening. soon, the soft rays of sunlight seeping through the trees would be entirely gone. it benefits her. nighttime, that is.
“we don’t have to leave.” her voice drips with honey-like comfort, her tone low and barely audible. “not yet”, she repeats after the other, the corners of her lips curling in amusement. she props herself up on one arm to mirror nari, taking the time to pour her eyes over every detail of the other’s face. haeun is pleased with the lack of malice that stares back. not real malice, anyway.
and haeun is equally displeased with the lack of spark in nari, that seems to always haunt her like a shadow.
“i am helping”, she retorts with a protest of her own, her playful smile dancing like the leaves above them. “i am here for moral support. plus, i am a better hunter than you. but you have to point out the prey first.”
nari sits up. haeun simply turns slightly in her direction. “lead the way, little bird. i’ll follow.”
— AHN HAEUN, THE FOX FAMILAR.
aaaaand here is the second intro post, this time for my familiar muse, ahn haeun! she is a 26 year old korean red fox who strives to be independent and fierce but is actually very afraid of what the future holds.
i'll also have some basic info under the read more cut for her, but please like this post if you'd like me to jump into your ims to plot more things out!!
— JUNG HYEJIN, THE MOON WITCH.
hiiii everyone! i'm so excited to be here!
my name is sun (30+, he/she) and i bring you two muses, a witch and a familiar. i'll make separate intro posts for each one!
this one is for jung hyejin, my witch with lunar empowerment and a looooooot of thoughts she's too afraid to share. she is a 36 year old teacher at the academy, naturally focusing on moon affinity spells and rituals. i'll have some basics for her under the cut, but please feel free to like this post and i'll hop into your ims to plot!
The prettiest Maknae 🖤
Do not repost