WITCHCRAFT

SON OF HECATE | FOR ICHORHQ | WRITTEN BY CROW

[wixcrafting]

CASIMIRO LADRON | SON OF HECATE | WIZARD.

ARON PIPER, SOME WHAT OUT HOMOSEXUAL, CIS MALE& HE & HIM — well met ! as blood demands CASIMIRO LADRON has answered the call ! they have been chosen and are now claimed as the CHILD OFHECATE. the adventure has just begun and they must now train hard in the ways of the WIZARD. while their INTELLECT, CURIOSITY, & AMBITIOUSNESS can be an asset to the god’s cause, their ANXIOUSNESS, TACTLESSNESS, & DOGMATICISM could create some tension. only the fates will know in the end, but now their thread has been woven into the tapestry of myths and legends !

name: casimiro ladron. nicknames: cas, ladron. date of birth: october 26, 1999. age: 25. face claim: taylor zakhar perez godly parent: hecate. height: 6.0 dominant hand: left. education level: college. occupation: student.

parents: hecate — biological mother | elonzo ladron — father. | delia ladron — 'mother'. siblings: other sons of hecate, probably. two siblings post camp, a brother and sister. pets: a black cat and a dobberman.

astrological sign: scorpio sun, taurus moon, sagitarrius rising. positive traits: intellectual, curious, ambitious, magnetic. negative traits: anxious, tactless, dogmatic, brooding, secretive, manipulative. habits: tends to clench his jaw when irritated, stays up late, wakes up early, coffee first thing in the morning. quirks: maintains eye contact when talking, takes up space with his aura, tilts his head when in thought or when someone challenges him. pet peeves: slow walkers, sloppy chewers. hobbies: baking, cooking, exploration, reading, writing, learning.

sexual orientation. somewhat out homosexual.. sexual position. fuck around and find out.

clothing style: typically dresses well, shades of grey, black, and hues of dark blue. gold jewelry, if any at all. form fitting. prominent features: lips, bright eyes, tattoos that he keeps covered, the scar that goes from his left eyebrow down below his left eye.

class: evoker wizard. inspirations: yennefer, wanda maximoff, powerful witches throughout history.

[stressed-b]

[victorydriven]

⟣  ─  ˑ 🏆   ۫ " dangerous ,  huh ? "  he  steps  further into the room ,  closer . just  enough  to  feel  the  weight  of  the  moment ,  but  not  enough  to  close  the  distance  between them entirely .  russet gaze  flickers  to  casimiro ’ s eyes — and those lashes :  so  long  they  make  him  look  almost  unreal .  it ’ s  hard  not  to  linger  there .  to  not get  lost  in  that  gaze .

" well ,  i ’ m  not  exactly  known  for  shying  away  from  danger .  or  opportunity , "  he  adds,  the  teasing  edge  turning  a  little  sharper ,  a  flicker  of  intent  in  his  eyes  as  they  trace  over  casimiro ’ s  features .  the  smile  that  curls  his  lips  is  warm ,  but  there ’ s  something  more  beneath  it — something  daring .  " keeps  things . . .  interesting . "  he  lets  the  words  hang  in  the  air ,  his  gaze  dipping  for  a  heartbeat  to  casimiro ’ s  lips  before  meeting  his  eyes  again .  subtle ,  but  deliberate .

“ i ’ m  good  at  taking  orders ,  you  know . ”  he  lets  his  smile  stretch  wider ,  his playful tone giving way to something softer , warmer .  dylan steps  just  a little closer — close enough to almost touch , but not quite .  “ so ,  tell  me  what  you  need . ” 

[wixcrafting]

he can't help but roll his eyes.

casimiro understands dylan, his charms and his playfulness, the way he'll work himself beneath someone's skin just to make a home there. it's warm, could be comforting, but there's always a time and place for it. when casimiro is trying to do a spell is not the time or the place. he huffs a laugh. "we'll see if you say that after we're done." the son of hecate offers a smile and lifts a hand, snapping his fingers as the door closes behind them and candles flicker on throughout his room.

he steps back and leads the man further into his bedroom. it feels as if it goes on forever, long halls filled with bookshelves, spines of spell books glistening golden in the candlelight. comfortable sofas and chairs are nearly in every room they pass, well lit for reading and studying. dark blue paint and wallpaper line the walls, making the space feel cozy, but infinite. when they get to another room, he opens the door, ushering dylan to step inside.

"how are you with meditating?" he asks dylan, walking beside him, arm almost grazing the son of victory. "your head will need to be completely clear for this to work. you're going to be a conduit, a vessel, for my magic to fill." he moves to stand in front of him, eyes locked, gaze intent. his voice is more serious now. "and if you aren't an empty vessel, if you have thoughts that can interfer with the magic, it could...be devastating for you." there's a hint of a smile at the end. "but i'm sure someone who likes to succeed so much can handle clearing their mind."

[ofgxdsandmen]

An  eyebrow  instantly  shifts  up  at  the  suggestion,  but  a  confident  smile  follows,  "I'm  sure  you  would.  Fortunately  for  the  both  of  us,  I'm  smarter  than  I  look,"  he  says  with  a  playful  wink.  Was  it  his  attempt  at  flirting?  All  was  fair  in  love  and  getting  this  shit  figured  out  as  soon  as  possible.  He  slid  into  the  seat  beside  Cas  as  the  other  demigod  spoke,  frowning  in  thought.  "So  rumors  and  word  of  mouth  are  important  in  that  sort  of  thing?"  Everything  in  regards  to  spells  and  magic  was  foreign  to  Aaron,  though  he  did  understand  the  importance.  It  was  why  he  even  considered  swallowing  his  pride  and  asking  Casmiro  for  help.  "Yeah?  Those  curses  seem  to  be  pretty  easy  to  name  for  you,"  he  couldn't  help  but  point  out to the son of hecate,  but  it  wasn't  important.  He  huffed  to  himself  before  offering  a  grin.  "How  difficult  are  they  for  you  to...  you  know,  counter?"

[wixcrafting]

"are you?" casimiro says flippantly, his tone pointed but unbothered. the last handful of interactions he's had with aaron haven't been the most positive, this might be different, but casimiro doesn't hold out hope for others—he believes in himself and his ability and when he sees capability in others, he believes in them, too. unfortunately for aaron, that's lacking in casimiro's eyes. "it would depend on the spellcaster. their intention for the spell being used is important. if they're still alive today, the spell most likely is still working. if they're dead, it would have probably faded away over the years naturally." most curses would work that way, in cas' opinion, unless they were being fueled by something else. "i'm the son of witchcraft. magic in general is easier for me than most." he feels like he's made of it, feels like it's burning through his veins like wildfire. "if it's the fae curse you all looked into and found out about, i doubt i could. archfey are almost equivalent to gods among their people, some of them even are gods. it'd be impossible for me to break through that kind of magic."

[ofgxdsandmen]

Aaron  was  a  lot  of  things,  but  scared  was  far  from  one  of  them.  Unfortunately  for  him,  that  meant  his  restraint  when  it  came  to  certain  people  was...  shit.  From  the  moment  he  met  Cas,  he  knew  the  son  of  Hecate  was  not  his  vibe,  yet  still  he  tried  to  make  an  attempt  at  peace.  Whether  that  meant  bonding  over  games,  holding  one  another  accountable  for  random  bullshit,  or  just  competing,  he  did  have  a  sense  of  respect  for  the  son  of  witches,  wizards...  or  whatever  the  fuck  he  was  considered.  The  guy  was  smart,  so  even  now,  after  all  the  bullshit  he'd  gone  through,  he  still  gravitated  toward  him.  "So...  fae  aren't  shit  apparently,"  he  quipped  as  he  move  to  slide  beside  the  other  demigod,  as  casual  as  possible…  which  wasn't  much.  "Have  you  heard  of  a  curse  that  prevents  an  entire  race  from  spilling  actual  tea?"

@wixcrafting

[wixcrafting]

casimiro's eyes move from his book, side eyeing the man sitting beside him now. he closes the book, bookmarking the page he was on, before he turns to face him. his head lists to the side, his eyes evaluating the other. "i'd like you to say that to an archfey's face and see what happens." the outcome, to cas, would be entertaining at least. he taps his fingers against the book, sighing. "if someone is powerful enough, they can curse blood lines, cultures, and more. so it's not surprising. they probably started a rumor about someone else and that didn't go over well. fey creatures are rather prideful." he arches an eyebrow toward aaron. "there's curses for minor things, too. i could make it so that every time you wore shoes, your feet itched or any time you went to pick up a utensil to eat, it would melt in your hand." he shrugs his shoulders, laughing. "curses aren't too difficult to cast."

[wixcrafting]

@queenxspade

the son of witchcraft stands in the open door that leads to the son of hera, a new arrival, a new chosen. he unfurls one arm from being crossed over his chest to knock against the door. "how are you settling in?" he asks when he spots the new chosen. he knew of malik back from his time on the island, he hadn't thought he'd be chosen.

but casimiro didn't think any of the chosen demigods would end up where they are—he didn't even think he would have been, he'd hoped, but never thought it'd be a reality.

"i'm on the next floor up, the last door on the left of the hallway." he lets malik know. "i cook pretty often, too, if you ever want to join in on the dinner nights or have left overs, feel free."

[wixcrafting]

"i think i have everything." casimiro says to himself as he looks over at the ingredients and tools necessary for the spell he's going to be working on. he is still a little shocked that dylan offered to be a volunteer so easily, without even asking what might be necessary from him. he assumes it's just because the son of nike wants to fuck him again and thinks this will be a good way to get into his good graces.

casimiro thinks that he's going to be a little exhausted after the spell, so it might not even get to that portion of the night.

he opens the door when he hears the knock and offers dylan a smile. "you know, it's not too late to back out. being a conduit of energy for a spell can be...dangerous." there's a wicked gleam in his eye, almost a challenge. "i'd understand if you're not up for it." he closes the door once the other steps inside and walks through his room, until he's in a small room with windows for one of the walls, looking out toward the wooded area of the island. "do you need me to go over what i need you to do?"

@victorydriven

[wixcrafting]

— PROMPT 002 ; THE BEDROOM.

filled with rich colors in blues and greens, accented with copper, gold, and dark woods. casimiro's bedroom is a dream for an academic. comfortable seating to spend hours reading, a study filled with books and plants, a 'lunarium', or what he calls a moon room, and a bedroom filled with windows to let the light in, surrounded by plants, books, and comfortable linens and blankets.

[wixcrafting]

location: hot spring area. for: open. warning: nsfw beginning, it doesn't need to stay that way. accepting: 0/3 open replies.

above him, the sky is a blanket of star speckled darkness, twinkling down upon the island of ogygia. it's a comforting thing, the night sky, a familiar friend in sleepless evenings. casimiro is no stranger to insomnia. he's a child of the moon, the night is when he feels the most alive, the most in tune with his power. it's when he feels the most himself, even after all this time of coming into his own.

the camping trip had been a mild success. there wasn't much team building, but he learned things about others. he learned things about himself, too. since the night at the club he's had an untamed desire flooding through him and he gave into that more than he'll admit. he's still sore. there's still marks on his skin—bruises and scratches and bites—but he gave just as good as he got.

he wonders if this is what the ambrosia does to them. if it ignites their divine ichor, their blood, and causes something hungry to unfurl its wings and want and want and want. he never wanted as much as he does now. he never needed it.

he doesn't know. he doesn't think he'll find out, either.

right now, he's sitting outside of the hotsprings, his legs are inside the water up to his calves. they're spread, hard cock in one hand as he leans back on the other. the thoughts of the camp, of the times before that, of what he has done and what he wants to do, rip through him as he lazily drags his palm along his aching shaft. his eyes close for a moment, lips part.

he hears the sound of a twig or a rock being shuffled under feet and he opens his eyes. he doesn't move. he's glad his back is, mostly, to the walkway that leads to the hot springs. he begins to say something and has to clear his throat, his words were coming out hoarse.

"warning whoever's there now, i'm going for a skinny dip. hope you don't mind nudity."

[yrsonpurpose]

Taylor Zakhar Perez | Behind the Scenes for Lacoste

[wixcrafting]

— casimiro ladron / a study in magic / taken by ???

[goldenbals]

casimiro arrives to find a man with compression shorts and a mat -- and nothing else. his clothes and shoes were tucked away in a bag, the wooden floor mostly open, one wall a sunny window and another a mirror. co-opting one of the dance rooms was easy, as one of the only chosen on the council who would use it.

"I'm here, aren't I?" said with a grin. even if he'd meant to warm up a bit, himself, to make sure he looked fully beyond-capable when putting the witch-born through his paces. "let's see where you're at, first, though."

rising from the sitting near-split strike was resting in, he then moves over to cas, helping get his mat laid out and flattened. "first thing's first -- butterfly. feet in, knees on the floor, if you can."

if cas looks up at strike, his grin is....mostly kind. maybe more than a little ready to see someone go further than they've gone before, and earn that extra inch or three.

[wixcrafting]

his expression says it all: casimiro ladron is impressed by the limberness of the other man. his body stretches in ways that he knows his own can't, at least not yet, and the ease in which strike shows off sends a bolt of heat rolling through him. cas does enjoy competence. once strike helps with the mat, he kicks off his shoes and socks and does as instructed. he never through of this as a yoga pose, he remembers doing it throughout his life to stretch his muscles. he puts his feet together, and then pushes his legs down, knees to the floor. "did this one since before camp." he admits, shrugging. "one of the stretches chiron used to have us do." he rests there in the butterfly pose, eyes trailing over the athena-born, smile on his face.

[wixcrafting]

casimiro wakes up in stages. at first, it's a small ache in the core of his being, like he'd been hollowed out and filled, before being completely empty. it isn't a feeling he's afraid of, it's not one that scares him. it's almost a feeling of satisfaction, of wholeness in a sense that he'd not known until recently.

then it's the sensory feeling of being in a bed that isn't his own. the sheets feel different, the weight of the blankets on his naked body feel off. the pillow isn't as cold as he's used to.

then it's the feeling of warmth around him, not from a blanket, but from a body. it comes back to him in pieces, hazy, dream filled memories of the previous night, only hours ago. he yawns, stretches, and turns to see samael there. "good morning." he says through the yawn, grin spreading over his features. there's only the smallest wince as he moves—he had told sam not to hold back and the son of madness didn't disappoint. "what time is it?"

@ichabodsam

[wixcrafting]

tucked in a comfortable corner within one of the many libraries that the house provides, casimiro balances a book on his knee, eyes scanning the pages, his free hand taking down notes. every now and then, he'll spin the pen between his fingers, humming to himself when he finds something exceedingly interesting. let's face it, most of the books in here are interesting to him. knowledge is power and power is something that he likes.

he turns the page and yawns, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth when he looks up and notices percy walking into the room. he grins to himself. matteo keeps a lot close to his chest and, as he's experienced, misinterprets a lot of information through a lens of his choosing—mostly one in which people only want him for one thing.

"hello, percy." casimiro says when the son of apollo is close enough. "need a study buddy? i'm just reading books on love and sex magic and how to counter it."

@sibyllicson

[wixcrafting]

the son of witchcraft wakes up early and does some preliminary stretching. it's not much, just enough to wake his sleeping limbs so that he doesn't make himself look like a fool during the pre-game yoga session. he packs a bag to change after, but dressed in shorts and a tank top, nothing special.

he doesn't know why there's some nerves lingering in his system. maybe it's the boldness of asking if what strike had said was true, if he meant it. the straightforward answer he got was good, easy, enjoyable.

with the bag thrown over his shoulder, a yoga mat under his other arm, and what he'd need afterward to go to the high school, he knocks on strike's door. when the door opens, he offers a smile, combing a hand through his hair. "sorry if i'm too early." he offers another smile, apologetic. "felt like we might need a bit more than an hour before we leave, just in case."

@tactiiical

[mystxcmxn]

Mateo was not sure if Casimiro was coming over so he moved around his room like he was going to shower after training. Music playing from his tv as he walked out of his closet with a towel on his shoulder. The knock on the door makes his brow raise, looks like he will have some fun after all. He doesn't need to flex the strain his body had just been through making his build pop out. "if i ever say no without a proper reason understand that it's not me."

He moved his body to the side letting the other in. His place was spartan, not barren but everything in it had a use. Simple couch and tv. The bed was tukcked in a corner but again didn't really draw any ones eye. It looked like Matty lived in an Ikea catalogue. The only things that showed who was was the spear he had left out "should probably put this up" he spoke placing it on the wall. "not what you expected huh."

[wixcrafting]

the son of witchcraft steps inside once matteo makes room for him. if he's still moving too close to him, that's on purpose. he smirks at him, the corners of his mouth barely shifting into the upside crescent moon. as he's walking, though, he does grab hold of the towel from over matteo's shoulder and tugs it free, twisting it around as if he's going to turn it into a whip. he doesn't. this time. "good to know that's how we'll be able to tell if you've been replaced with someone else." he jests, rolling his eyes.

he looks around the room now, taking it in. he really did think that matteo would live like a straight bachelor. "huh, your bed is actually off the floor." he turns to look at him, eyebrow raised. "feels very cookie cutter, though. you don't want it to feel like yours?" he watches as matteo puts the spear on the wall and he hums to himself before he moves to sit on the bed. "how do you want me?"

[wixcrafting]

for: @matteofares

"hm." casimiro is looking down at his phone. the exchange of text messages is pointed and, well, he can't say he didn't enjoy it the first time or the second time. he drums his fingers against the back of his phone and, once he gets confirmation that matteo is in his room he tosses his phone on his bed and leaves. it takes no time to get to the son of ares' room. it's on the floor above, sure, but he remembers where. he knocks, three simple, quick raps.

he waits, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet and when the door opens, he raises an eyebrow. "delivery for matteo, one blowjob from casimiro ladron." he gives him a smirk, looking down at matteo's crotch and then back up to his face. "still interested?"