Hus of Crow

Tag: Healing

Opening to Fire

By

On November 4, 2026

In Healing

“The flame flickers and wraps in its own self, unaware of its light,” he says.

I open to Loki’s fire, peering into the exposed voidance of my wounds. I cry until mucus trails from my nose with the tears. My body heats up and reminds me I was badly burned and scarred through an abuse of power.

I learned temperance of my own flame.

Desire flashes, and my heart reddens, lit by Loki’s name on my tongue, down my throat, swallowed in tears of devotion.

And I realize the consequences of not burning at all. Of not opening to him or myself, or to love. The drought that left me a husk of myself and tried to claim me just as violently. Either way I turned, there was devastation. Loki returns me to myself.

I can trust myself.

Remaking Intimacy

By

On November 2, 2026

In Healing

“My introduction to my own sensuality was the Kama Sutra. I soaked up the rituals of relationship and mating,” I tell Loki as we walk through my memory together.

“There was one section about making a sort of love sachet from scented wax and flower petals, and another about the male growing specific nails longer to pinch half-moon marks on his beloved. I thought that was the most romantic thing I’d ever consumed. I immediately pinched half-moons on my hand, as described in the text. It was a ritual for lovers separated by distance, and I used it to close the distance between myself and my own sensuality.”

I realize this under Loki’s supervision.

Together, we watch my younger self enact the ritual.

“A lot of sensation in that canonical text,” Loki acknowledges.

“Yes. The sensations to be had were gorgeously detailed.

I chewed mint leaves to discover the moment right before kissing for myself.

I remade intimacy then, creating a different experience of it than I’d previously known.”

I watch her with him as she picks up the pieces of heartbreak, one instruction at a time.

“Magic comes from the self.” His words wrap me in new confidence.

The Damage to Her

By

On October 31, 2026

In Healing

“I didn’t ask to ascend, Loki.”

“You didn’t ask to descend either,” he answers, sharp and sincere.

My heart falls onto the floor between us, and I scoop her up carefully, aware of the damage to her.

You Are Free

By

On October 26, 2026

In Devotion, Healing

“You worry too much about what others think of your privacy and mine. I gave you the green light to do as you wish. I only said I would not stop your growth.” Loki slices through my self-cherishment.

“You think I don’t have my fucking boot on your ex’s neck? I do, sweetheart. It’s personal to me. Me, not you. What I do is my responsibility. You are clean. You are free.”

“You are ready. You just doubt yourself as a reflex, a second nature,” he spits.

My fear shrivels as Loki shakes me from its grasp.

A Process

By

On October 26, 2026

In Healing

“Nature creates and takes away,” I say wistfully to Loki, watching leaves fall gently from the trees.

“No, dear love. Nature simply is and holds no perceptional motive.” His chin rests on the top of my head.

“A process.”

“Yes.”

“I am a process.”

“How does that feel?” he asks.

“Better.”

Salting

By

On October 23, 2026

In Ritual

Salting myself, coarse friction,
dissolving granules
of earth and sea.
My skin hums, exposed to sensation.
My heart burns.
My mind intent on simple ritual and result.
I hum a funeral song for the departed
and the blessing of what once was.

Be Petty

By

On October 3, 2026

In Devotion, Power

Tied with soft leather strips to the headboard. A cute little pink vibrator between my legs, clamped shut around it, softening its jolting just enough that I can’t be satiated.

Loki acts nonchalant, like he’s not in the middle of torturing and teasing my pleasure. I squirm and wiggle, twisting this way and that. His attention, his eyes watching intently, suddenly catches me off guard, and I give up the struggle.

“You didn’t think I would let you so soon, did you?” he says with the slightest smirk, deep lustiness in his voice.

“No,” I whimper in confession.

“Not until you are mine,” he says gently.

“Please,” I plead.

He strokes the hair from my eyes, leaning over to kiss me, warmth flooding my senses.

I can’t seem to get the vibration on my sweet spot, and my frustration comes out in grunts and groans. I’m aware of the part of my brain in love with the process, with my vulnerability, with my desire, with my want of him, and with my submission so beautifully unfolding.

He grins, pulling on a black latex glove, and proceeds to fill me with his middle finger.

“Fuck you, Sweetheart,” he says adoringly.

I love the double entendre. It makes me further his that he engages my mind. His come-hither motion pulls me into him, soul first.

“My soul is so slutty!” I squeal shamelessly.

He chuckles, wearing a wide grin, then clears his throat.

“I’m your God. Your husband. Your Dominant, if you’ll have me.”

Surprise tears break me open.

“Yes!” I yelp.

He kisses me as I fall apart to let him in.

“Good. You’ll break up with him.”

I agree. I already knew it was needed.

“How?”

“Exactly how he left you. Do you hear me? Give nothing more to him. Not an explanation, not your time, nothing. Be petty.”

Loki helps me up from my restraints, both past and leather, darling strips that forever now will remind me of his love.

Loki’s song choice: “Strip me” by Natasha Bedingfield

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