A list Of Closed Or Semi-Closed Practices, Objects And Religions
White sage: A sacred herb used in Indigenous American practices and currently endangered. Used in smudging rituals.
Palo Santo: An aged wood that is burned in South American practices and currently endangered. Palo Santo is important to Hispanic/latinx culture and is currently endangered. Commercial buying of this wood is generally looked down upon by those not belonging to this group of people.
Dream catchers: A hand-made woven willow hoop adorned with sacred items made by Indigenous Americans. Any that are not made by an indigenous American is not a true dream catcher.
Sweetgrass: Considered sacred to Indigenous Americans and is used in smudging rituals. Also is currently endangered.
Smudging: A sacred, elaborate, exclusively Indigenous American ritual using smoke. Very different from smoke cleansing an area.
Spirit Animals: A purely Indigenous American belief/ part of the religion of certain tribes. Nobody not belonging to this group simply does not have one.
Egg Limpia: A South American practice to cleanse oneself using an egg.
Karma: A Hinduism belief/concept that the energy someone builds in their life (good or bad) affects how their later lives turn out.
Chakras: A term specific to Hinduism and Buddhism referencing various focal points on the body used in meditation practices. Within Kundali yoga breath exercises, visualizations, mudras, bandhas, kriyas, and mantras are focused on manipulating the flow of subtle energies through chakras
Sour Jars: A spell belonging to hoodoo and vodou and various other closed practices using a jar to hex.
Haitian Vodou: A polytheistic, syncretic religion coming from west African (Yoruba and Fon) Roman Catholicism. Developed among Afro-Haitian communities amid the Atlantic slave trade and the main religion in Haiti as well as Catholicism.
Hoodoo: A syncretic religion created by enslaved Africans, this religion is practiced in the Caribbean and in southern America, an amalgamation of spiritual practices, traditions, and beliefs that were held in secret away from white slaveholders.
Santeria: a polytheistic, syncretic religion originating in Cuba and combines Yoruba and Roman Catholic beliefs. Also developed during the Atlantic slave trade.
Many Native American cultures
Many African cultures
Saami (in Finland)
Shinto (There are branches of Shinto practice that are open, but this kind of practice should be approached with a high level of respect, and some branches are definitely closed. Jinja Shinto would be to most prominent example of an open denomination)
Druidism (proper not neo)
Gardnerian and Alexandrian Wicca
Haitian Vodou
Hawaiian
Some parts of African Vodou (It depends on the section/group/family etc.)
Hinduism (There are denominations of Hinduism that are open and available, just as there are sects that are closed. Some of the “open sects are highly problematic, and so it does one to be very careful when looking at joining a sect of Hindu faith. Dharmic law is part of what makes this a little sticky to navigate, so best to be approached with deference and caution. )
Hopi
Inuit
Judaism (You must earn the right to be called Jewish)
Raastafari Movement
Tribal (almost all)
Voudon
Zoroastrianism
Kemetic Orthodox- This does not require an initiation per say, but does require a rite of passage of sorts and there is a series of coursework that should be completed.
Tibetan
polynesian
Indian
Russian
Aztec
Aryan
Maori
When in doubt, ask yourself: did white men/Christians attempt to erase it? If the answer is yes, then it’s a closed practice.
summary: around the campfire, the men start teasing sandor about his size, and as the crude jokes fly, you can’t help but sneak a glance at him. when you catch the outline of him beneath his clothes, your heart races, and you can’t look away. sandor notices, and the tension between you two is almost too much to handle. you’re left wondering what will happen when the camp settles down for the night.
warnings: nsfw, sexual tension, sexual attraction , reader’s smutty thoughts, alcohol, objectification, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing , public sex kind of.
word count: 3.2k
the campfire crackled and spit, casting flickering shadows over the circle of men gathered around it. the air was thick with the smell of sweat and woodsmoke, the chatter growing louder as the ale flowed. you sat just outside the circle, not part of their bawdy camaraderie, but close enough to catch every word, and gods, how you wished you weren’t.
“clegane,” one of the younger men drawled, a drunken smirk plastered across his face. “bet you’re hiding something fierce under all that armor, eh?”
the others laughed, quick and eager to latch onto the joke. sandor, seated across the fire, didn’t so much as glance up.
“reckon it drags behind him in the snow,” another chimed in, slapping his knee.
more laughter, rough and raucous. your stomach twisted as you pulled your cloak tighter around you, hoping to disappear into the night.
sandor’s lip twisted into a mocking half-smile, his gaze sharp as it swept over the group. “keep talking about my cock,” he growled, the words a low, gravelly threat, “and I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you ever get to look at.”
that earned a chorus of hoots and hollers, none of them taking the threat seriously.
“you hear that?” the first one cackled, slapping his thigh. “big man’s got a temper to match!” he leaned forward, squinting at you. “what d’you think, girl? you’re always hovering around him, eh? got an eye for—”
you choked on your sip of water, quickly lowering the cup and staring at the ground as your cheeks burned hotter than the fire.
the thud of steel slicing into wood made you flinch. when you dared to look up, sandor’s knife was embedded in the log beside the man’s head, the blade gleaming menacingly in the firelight. the man froze mid-laugh, his face blanching as though all the blood had drained from it.
the men fell silent for half a beat before breaking into another round of laughter, though it was more nervous this time, the kind of laughter that comes when you’re not sure if someone’s joking.
“aye, no need for that,” the first one said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “just a bit of fun, clegane.”
sandor leaned back against the log, his long legs stretched out and his lips curling into something close to a smirk. He didn’t say another word, just shook his head as if they weren’t worth the effort.
you tried to focus on the cup in your hands, but the conversation around the camp was impossible to ignore.
the men roared, and you dared a glance toward sandor. he was still as a stone, sitting against a log, legs stretched out in front of him. His bowl of stew rested in one hand, the other dangling lazily by his side.
but it wasn’t just his size that drew your eye. It was the way he carried himself, like he was more than aware of the effect he had on everyone around him.
the long lines of his legs, the thick muscles visible even under layers of leather and wool. your gaze drifted lower before you could stop yourself, there, was the unmistakable outline of him, large and thick, pressing against the fabric of his trousers. your heart pounded in your ears as you realized just how much of a hold he had over you.
you tried to tear your eyes away, but the way he filled out his clothes, the way he made you feel. you wanted to touch him, to feel that strength, feel the weight of him, his size, pressing down on you. the image of him, thick and demanding, burned into your mind, refusing to leave.
when you glanced up, you found sandor watching you. his eyes were steady, sharp, like he knew exactly what had been going through your mind. there was no judgment in his gaze, only that intense, unblinking stare, like he was daring you to admit it. To admit just how much you wanted him, how much you needed him.
slowly, almost lazily, he tilted his head.
“enjoying the view?” his voice was a low rasp, just loud enough for you to hear over the chatter of the men.
your heart raced, and you looked down, fumbling with the crust of bread in your hands like it held the answers to your embarrassment.
he huffed a quiet laugh, deep and rough. “thought so.”
the sound of his laughter, knowing, made your pulse jump. you risked a glance up, only to find he was still watching you, his lips curling into something between amusement and triumph.
you tried to gather yourself, but your body felt light, almost dizzy from the weight of the moment. but then, as the world around you came back into focus, you realized you weren’t the only one who had noticed.
the men around the fire had been watching too. they’d seen, heard everything. you could feel their eyes flicking between you and sandor, their glances filled with anticipation, like they were waiting for something to happen.
one of them, who’d been watching intently, couldn’t help but chuckle. “well, looks like you’ve caught the big man’s attention, girl.”
you could feel every set of eyes on you now, watching, waiting for something, anything to happen. and you knew that whatever had just passed between you and sandor wasn’t going to be forgotten.
-
some time passed, and you were finally alone. you had been chosen to set up the camp, and for once, you weren’t mad about it. the embarrassment still lingered, heavy on your body, but with this task, there was no one around to remind you of it.
the dirty thoughts still lingered in your mind, persistent and unsettling. it was the way he looked at you, like it didn’t bother him at all. there was something strange between the two of you, an unspoken connection that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.
lost in the depths of your thoughts, the sudden crunch of boots on the ground behind you pulled you from your trance. you didn’t dare glance over your shoulder, but the shadow cast by the moonlight told you everything you needed to know. his presence loomed large, unmistakable. it was sandor.
he stood there for a moment. then, in his usual gruff manner, he spoke. “you’re alone out here.” his voice was steady, not a question, but a statement. the air between you felt thick, but his presence, though imposing, didn’t seem to demand anything more.
you glanced at him, trying to hide the slight amusement creeping onto your face. his expression was unreadable, his eyes dark as always. he was standing too close, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence, but still, he didn’t move, didn’t push.
“well?” he asked after a long pause, his voice rough, yet tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “you gonna stand there all night? ain’t you got a camp to set up?” his voice reeked of alcohol.
you blinked, suddenly realizing you were still rooted to the spot, caught in the strange tension he’d created. his tone had been flat, but there was something in the way he looked at you, like he was waiting for you to say something.
“right,” you muttered, shaking your head as if to clear it. you turned away from him, reaching for the bedrolls and stakes you had set aside, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat had quickened. “I’ll get to it.”
you could feel his presence still lingering behind you as you bent down to fasten the stakes into the ground, the weight of his stare making the silence awkward and thick. every movement felt too deliberate, like he was watching your every action, even though he hadn’t said a word since his last remark.
suddenly, you felt a hand press against your lower back. startled, you flinched and glanced up at him. without warning, he yanked you to your feet by your pants, pulling you tightly against his chest, your back to him. “don’t make me do all the work” he murmured low, his voice thick with intent. you held your breath, feeling the undeniable pressure of his body against yours. his hips subtly thrust forward, the hardness of his bulge pressing into your lower back.
your pulse quickened, a mixture of nerves and something else you couldn’t quite place. you shifted uncomfortably, trying to create some distance between you, but his grip was firm. “sandor,” you whispered, unsure of what you wanted him to do. “this isn’t right.”
without answering, he lowered his mouth to your neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below your ear. the warmth of his breath sent a shiver through you, and before you could react, his hand moved down your body. with a sudden, forceful motion, his fingers grasped the fabric of your shirt, pulling it taut before ripping it open. the sound of fabric tearing filled the air, and your breath caught in your throat.
you gasp, instinctively crossing your arms to shield your chest, but he seizes your wrists and firmly pulls them behind your back. sandor smirks, his voice low and rough as he says, “hiding won’t save you now.”
he pulls you back into him, your ass pressing against his bulge. sandor chuckled, a sound that reverberated through you. “is that what you want?” he growled low, his voice thick with desire. you could feel the tension in his body, the way he stiffened behind you as you pushed back into him. his groan followed, deep and unmistakable, as his hips involuntarily thrust forward.
“keep pushing, and you’re only going to make it worse,” he whispered against your ear, his voice a mix of amusement and promise.
but you couldn’t stop. you pressed back into him again, your body moving against his in a way that left no room for hesitation. his breathing hitched, and before you could react, sandor spun you around with brutal force. you fell to the ground, the air knocked from your lungs, and you gasped in surprise.
you now sat on the floor, hands pushing up your body to regain some balance. your breath was shallow, heart racing, and as you looked up, you saw sandor towering over you, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.
he took his time, slowly unbuckling his belt as his gaze never left you. you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and fear, the way his eyes held you in place, his every movement calculated.
he noticed the excitement in your eyes, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. a low chuckle escaped him, the sound rich with amusement. “you’re eager,” he murmured, his gaze darkening as he took in your reaction.
you were frozen, not knowing what to say, your words lost in the heaviness of the moment. all you could do was sit there, heart pounding, waiting for him to move, unsure of what would come next.
without warning, he unzipped his pants and slowly takes out his cock. you stared in disbelief, you couldn’t help but notice how much larger he was than you’d expected. his gaze remained locked on yours, and with a slow, almost indifferent smirk, he muttered, ‘didn’t think you’d be this quiet. thought you’d have more to say.’“
his words stung, challenging you, and without thinking, you pushed yourself to your feet. you met his eyes, you didn’t know if you were trying to prove something to him or to yourself, but you took a step closer, your breath steadying as you faced him head-on.
you stared at him, the silence heavy between you. neither of you needed to speak to know what you both wanted, but the words failed to form. uncertainty gripped you, but something inside urged you to move, to take the first step. without thinking further, you leaned in and kissed him.
your lips met his, the kiss harsh and impatient, filled with undeniable desire and lust. you felt his tongue push past your lips, exploring your mouth, his hand tightened his grip on your thigh, finger digging into your skin. "answer me”, he said, his voice low, “you think you can take all of me, huh?” his other hand quickly yanked your pants down to your knees, the urgency in his movements making your pulse quicken.
you looked up at sandor, meeting his intense gaze, your voice barely above a whisper. “do your worst.” the words were edged with hesitation, but there was something else there too, a quiet challenge. he smirked, clearly appreciating the boldness beneath your uncertainty, before he spun you around and shoved you face-first into the tree.
his grip on your wrists was rough, pulling them behind your back and holding them there with unrelenting force. his breath was hot against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. as reality set in, so did a rush of nervousness, your breath quickened, your heartbeat pounding in your chest.
he chuckled, feeling the tension in your body. “you’re not getting cold feet now are ya?” his voice gravelly, “it’s too late to back out now.”
you feel the cold breeze on your legs and chest, and you try to arch your back slightly, as if to invite him in. you feel his hard presence against you, waiting impatiently.
when all of a sudden you felt sandor’s thick fingers attach themselves to your pussy. his other hand stil holding on tight to your wrists. “let me see” he mutters, his fingers brushing against your folds, stroking up and down.
you desperately tried to clamp your legs shut, the humiliation heavy in your chest, too much to bear. but his hand, strong as usual, forced them apart. the weight of it settled heavy on you, the sense of being exposed, vulnerable, naked in a way you never thought you’d be, especially with sandor, your usual companion in the mud and blood of battle, seeing you like this.
sandor, clearly tired of you already, grabbed you by the neck with a cold, firm hand, his grip locking you in place. you were shoved hard against the tree, your body pinned to the bark. there was no hesitation in him now, he didn’t want to wait any longer.
“quit fightin’,” he growled. “you’ll give in, like it or not.”
you were so overwhelmed by his actions that your mind went blank, unable to focus or think clearly. he noticed, of course he did. “please, sandor,” you murmured, desperately trying to create some friction by swaying your hips, but he held you down firmly, laughing at your attempt.
sandor is so smug about it too, groaning just quietly enough while his hands grab your ass, pulling you further apart so he can finally enter you. “been waiting for this,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with satisfaction.
you turn your head towards him, glancing over your shoulder just to see how big he looked as he loomed over you, pulling you closer while gripping the base of his cock as he slips his tip into you. the sharp, overwhelming pain makes your body ache. you cried out in desperation, you close your eyes and try to relax every muscle in your body as he slowly fills you up, little by little.
sandor furrowed his brows as he holds still for just a moment, his rough hands were all over you. “fucking hell, don’t tell me you’re a virgin” he growls through his teeth.
“not that,” you finally managed to whisper, releasing the breath you were holding. “i just- it’s been a while.”
"you’re so fucking tight”. he grunted, finally feeling your cunt stop clenching, he immediately pulled back and thrust into you forcefully, causing you to cry out, your arm instinctively reaching back to hold his hips back from the overwhelming sensation. he ignores your protests and starts thrusting into you quickly, your body responding to his every move. you whimper with each thrust, moving in rhythm with him, your hand still holding his hip in protest as he drives into you relentlessly.
he grabs the arm that’s gripping his hip and pushes it behind your back, gaining a better angle as he thrusts into you. “c'mere,” he growled, his grip tightening on your arm. “let me feel you, all of you”.
the eye contact, his words, it’s almost enough to make you tap out. sandor’s eyes never leave yours as he pushes into you roughly.
as the rustling of footsteps grows closer, you freeze, heart racing. sandor’s grip tightens on you, his eyes scanning the surrounding woods. the sound of your men moving through the trees grows louder, and you can feel the tension in the air.
“stay quiet,” sandor murmurs, his voice low and commanding, as he pulls you closer, putting his hand over your mouth. almost covering your whole face with just one hand. neither of you can be fucked to care, the pleasure building low in your stomach as he keeps on pounding into you.
the men approach, oblivious to your presence, and you hold your breath, hoping they don’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
you can hear their voices now, but they pass by without a second glance, the danger passing as quickly as it arrived. sandor lets out a low grunt, picking up his speed, fueled by frustration. his hands find your hair, pulling it harshly, causing you to yelp.
you choked on your moans, your aching pussy taking him whole, sandor leans in close as he pushes you back and forth on his cock. loving how you whine everytime he slides inside of your pussy.
he can’t hold back anymore, his control snaps, and all that’s left is brute force and raw lust. he grips your hips tightly, his hands holding your ass as you let him take control. his touch grows bolder, sliding up your sides, skimming your stomach, and grazing your chest until they rest just above your throat. he pulls your towards him, looking for you eyes.
you look at him and find him staring at you, his lips parted, his eyes moving from your face to your ass, watching as he splits you open, again and again.
“oh gods” he mumbles under his breath, still staring at where you bodies keep on meeting together with his brute force. his breath quickens, short, guttural growls of pleasure escaping his mouth, you nod, sandor immediately knowing what you mean, his fingers dig into your hips even harder, his breathing becoming faster and more labored, as he picks up the pace. the sound of slapping flesh becoming even louder in the forest.
before you know it, you’re cunt is filled up with his seed, you cum and his name keeps on falling of your lips. “that’s it girl.” he thrusts his seed deeper. it’s quick, the way he eases himself out of you, how you feel it flowing down your inner thighs.
you try to stand secure on your wobbly legs and it was you who finally said something. “y- yeah, you’ve made your point.”
sandor just watches you with a grin on his face, cocky bastard.
english translation of ’maldivas’ bc every sapphic in the world deserves to know what ludmilla was singing for her wife in front of 100,000 people on stage at rock in rio 2022
