#gwarch

[lailoken]

Gwarch Charms (For Sale)

"A Gwarch—Welsh for "What encloses or shuts up," andcpronounced like Quark, but with a G at the beginning, and a χ at the end—is a basic form of Spell, unique to the Wending Way. It shares similarities with a Cantrip Purse (also called a Charm Bag or Spell Sachet,) and can be used for a variety of purposes, though it serves best when it comes to acts of Healing, Blessing, and Protection.

During the central corpus of the rite, the working space is cleansed and aligned, pertinent powers are invoked, and the caster's intention is encapsulated using a Sigil or composite-sigil on a small slip of paper. After the petition has been completed, it is folded into a tight strip that can be inserted into the opening of an ethically sourced Snail Shell, before stuffing the remainder of the shell’s interior with materials appropriate to the context of the pertinent Gwarch. Finally, the talisman is physically sealed by melting wax from a Hallowed Candle over the opening of the shell to properly secure the contents, and is then fumigated with specialized incense blend while the programming of Gwarch's given task is energetically fixed.

I currently offer three kinds of Gwarch, intended as talismans that help to promote Protection, Luck, and Healing, respectively. Upon receiving it, the recipient is instructed to carry the Gwarch with them for Nine Days and Nights, before burying it at a crossing of ways in order to bring the magic worked to fruition.

Be advised: Gwarchs are best used target mild to moderate tasks, but not particularly complex or dire situations. Additionally, since every shell is wild-gathered in a ritual context, no two shells look just alike. However, if you have a particular preference of some kind, please feel free to inquire about it by contacting me."

Anyone interested in purchasing one or more of these lovingly crafted Spell Catalysts may do so on my shop for $18 each: ☆

#Gwarch #the snail #snail shell #traditional withcraft #folk magic #pellar #wending wares #wending way #cantrips #healing #luck #protection

[vacantwoodsenthusiast]

I'm making a couple of small charms for a friend who is having terrible luck as of late. The snail shell will become a small Gwarch inspired by @lailoken post on the subject, and the bottle will turn into a necklace charm that they can wear.

#folk magic #charms #traditional witchcraft #folk witchcraft #herbalism #gwarch charm #snail shell

[ravenofthefandoms]

The Path of the Bear

Word Count: 2690 (nice)

Pairing: Leofric x Reader

Characters: Leofric of Wessex, Uthred Ragnarson/Uthred of Bebbanburg (brief), Mildreth (brief), Iseult (mentioned), King Peredur (mentioned)

A/N: First TLK post! They gave us a sassy, badass warrior that is absurdly large and slightly too old for me and since that’s exactly my type, I had to write about him. I want to make this a series as well, but I’m gonna start my Beric request after this and then my modern!Aemond fic/series to be hopefully. Also also, there’s a Grenn x reader sitting in my drafts rn. FYI, in this one I use italics for thoughts, which is new for me, so tell me if you like it! Also, I mention Grian who is, according to my five minute on Google, a Celtic/pre-Christian goddess of the sun, and specifically the winter sun. Since reader is Iseult’s sister in this, I imagine she would be a pagan, just not a Danish one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned. They belong to Bernard Cornwell and the producers of The Last Kingdom. I do not own any gifs used. They belong to their original creators.

The farmstead you had been camping near for the past few weeks was quiet. There was only one man who you ever saw near the house, and sometimes a woman was with him. Workers tended the fields and took care of the animals nearby, but they were always too busy with their daily chores to notice. You did not necessarily need to hide yourself well, typically just spending your days in the woods foraging or hunting if you could and your nights sleeping in the barn on the grounds. Once the workers all left for home after their day, the farmstead was empty save for the animals you roomed with.

It was not luxury and it was nothing like the life you grew up with. The life you had up until two months ago almost felt like a sweet dream. There was much of it you missed, like your sister and a day filled with nothing but chores and gossip. Then your sister left, married off to some king in Cornwalum for her skills as a gwarch. A mother’s gift, as your own mother called it. Something she inherited from her mother, who received it from her mother, and so on. Only you did not receive it. Your older sister, Iseult, did and she was quite powerful. Her bride price was very valuable, more valuable than you could have ever dreamed of bringing to your family. That did not stop your father’s efforts. It took two more years for him to find someone who would pay a good bride price for you. The day he told you that he found you a husband was the day you ran.

The bleating of the ewe drew you from your thoughts. A small smile formed on your lips as she stared at you, annoyed that you were laying in one of her favorite spots. You could not blame her. The hay was a nest, keeping you comfortable. “I can make room for you, but I will not move.”

Scooting over, you grinned and patted the ground next to you, as though she could understand your jest. Instead, the ewe seemed to glare at you before settling down in another little nest on the other side. Shaking your head, you settled back down into your little nest of hay before closing your eyes and drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 

                                                             —

You awoke early, as you have done everyday since you started sleeping in the barn. The workers woke early too, so you needed to leave the barn before any discovered you in your attempts to hold the sheep. 

The trek back into the forest was quick, your surroundings becoming easier for you to manuever. Your first stop was the brook that ran through the country side. The cold water helped to pull you from the last of your sleep, waking you completely. You wanted to bathe soon, but you had not followed the brook far enough to find a spot deep enough. Instead, you began to forage for food, checking the traps you had set, smiling to yourself when two of your traps had successfully captured two rabbits. Two was too much to eat for just one meal but it would be just fine if you cooked them both now. Starting a fire later would not be smart, the workers on their way home would be more likely to see it.

                                                            —

Night begins to fall, watching from a ridge as workers began to go home. Once they were all gone, you snuck your way into the barn quickly, the final rays of sunlight twinkling through the trees. The sheep and the cows were in their stalls, along with a few new horses. You looked through a crack in the wall towards the hut. There was light coming from the house, but you did not worry. Surely it was just the lord and his wife who lived here. 

It was easy to shrug it off as you made your way to a spot towards the back of the barn, where you could watch the doors with ease. As you tore into your rabbit, your mind drifted back to the last days you had with your sister. 

You had wept as your elder sister held you, learning that she was leaving soon, and you were not prepared for the separation. Though you were 18 years old at the time, she was the only one who took care of you, loved you. She was always so gentle with you and always understanding. When her gifts came to her, she became your family’s jewel. Your parents preened over her constantly, your mother nurturing your sister’s gift. The work paid off and your sister’s abilities were soon sought after. It was a long time before they were sold. During that time, your sister taught you what she could, more about healing and herbs than seeing. When she did go into the woods to see, you went with her. Silence was kept between you, but you helped her as much as you could.

The last thing she said to you will always ring through your ears. “We will meet again, sweet sister.” She tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “But you cannot marry, not who father chooses. You simply need follow the bear. He will bring you back to me.” You nodded through your sniffles, holding onto her as tightly as you could. Moonlight shone on the two of you, raven hair shimmering beneath it. 

Two years later and you still had not found the bear that was meant to lead you. Though you were also not entirely sure how a bear would take you to your sister. Nonetheless, you trusted her sight and would be ready to follow.

The creak of the barndoor snapped you from your reverie. A tall shadow appeared and you cursed, scrambling to a stall. The resting cow looked up at you, lowing  as you approached in a crouch. You held your breath, drawing the dagger that you had tied to your waist. “Who’s in here?” A deep voice called, the signature hiss of a sword drawn from its sheath following, “I saw you. Come back out.” You cursed again before swinging out again, taking a low stance with your blade.

The man was much closer than you expected, with a torch sitting in a sconce between you. The flickering light revealed the scarred, though quite handsome, face of a very tall man. “What are you doing here?” His blade was level, though he did not appear to be very worried.

“Sleeping. The sheep make good company.” He scoffed at your answer. “What are you doing here?” You straightened slightly from your stance, trying to relax the tension. It was quite obvious to you that this bear of a man would have no trouble disarming you, let alone killing you. But there was still a chance you could talk your way out of it.

“The same, by invitation of the lord of this farmstead. Don’t think I can say the same for you,” he stated. You answered only with a shrug. “If I put away my blade, you will as well.” It was not a question, but you nodded your agreement anyways. He began to sheath his sword and you rose, putting your own blade away. “Been here long? Seem to know the locals quite well.” He nodded to the barn animals who had returned to their resting.

Another shrug from you. “A few months. They cried when I tried to leave.” He chuckled at that, looking you up and down.

“What’s your name?” You turned to look at the ground where the rest of your rabbit laid, tossed in your panic to hide. A beat of silence as you picked it up, brushing the hay and dirt from it before taking another bite.

“So many questions. I thought Saxons were supposed to be Christians and gentlemen.” You held out the rabbit to him, a peace offering. Despite having already eaten himself, he accepted.

“I’m deciding if I should tell the lord that you are here. He is not happy, and I do not think you would wish to cross paths with him this night.” There was a small twinkle of mirth in his eyes despite the serious sound of his words.

“(Y/N). Of Cornwalum. You?” He raised a brow. A Briton was not something he had expected to see in Liscumb but here you stood. 

“Leofric of Wessex. Can’t save I’ve met a Briton before.” He tossed the rabbit back to you before moving to sit in what looked to be a decently comfortable pile of hay. “How’d you get out here?” 

You finished the last bit of rabbit before tossing it into one of the back corners of the barn. “I walked, mostly. Ran a little bit. Even got to ride a horse for a while. Though the horse and the running were on the same day.” He chuckled at the mischievous grin on your face. “What is a warrior of Wessex doing sleeping in his lord’s barn?”

Leofric’s eyes followed you as you paced slowly, more out of boredom than nerves. He couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to. Here you were, silver-tongued and beautiful, with full hips that were hugged by the pants you wore and alluring eyes that seemed to call to him from the very depths of his soul. For a man like Leofric, you were a sight to feast on. Though a God-fearing man, the ancient and arcane feeling that washed through him when he met your eyes had him questioning. “It’s my lord’s wedding night.” He smirked at you slightly. “I cannot say that I wish to be privy to it.” His eyes flicked back up after their southward expansion when you stopped, sights locking on each other. There was a beat of pregnant pause.

“Then do not worry, Leofric of Wessex. You shall have a silent night to rest.” A twinkle mirroring his own caused the great warrior’s heart to falter a moment. Though not entirely unfamiliar, the stutter was not something he had felt in quite a long time. With a final small smirk gracing your lips, you slipped into one of the nearby stalls where you were met with a small bleat of an ewe. “I told you, they missed me.” A soft chuckle was met to that.

“If you are to hold the sheep for warmth, then whom should I?” His flirtatious words made you grin, though he could not see it.

You responded without missing a beat. “The cow seemed lonely.” He gave another bark of laughter at this, and you couldn’t help the small laugh you let out. Laying down, you made yourself cozy in the bed of hay. Snow was falling that night, and a freezing wind blew through the cracks of the barn. A shiver ran through your body as you tucked your knees into your chest, another attempt to keep the warm in. After a while of silence, you were able to finally fall into blissful sleep.

                                                            —

Grian emerged from her slumber and the early rays of her light began to illuminate the sky. Your eyes fluttered open with a yawn following quickly. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes before rising quietly. Soft snores carried from the other side of the barn, affirming that the man from last night, Leofric, was still in the barn though sound asleep. With a final stretch, you stood and made your way out of the stall. Leofric leaned against the wall in the same place as last night, his head fallen to the side in his slumber. A soft giggle escaped your lips as you looked down at him. Such soft and small noises from a man so big were nothing short of amusing. 

Quickly and quietly, you slipped from the barn. The gray dawn of morning held the chill of the long winter night. Soon, you were free, traipsing through the woods as you began your day.

                                                            —

It wasn’t long after you left before Leofric woke. In fact, the soft knock of the barndoor closing was what roused him. It took a moment for him to truly wake, but when he did, he shot to his feet. Leofric took a few partially stumbling steps towards the door before yanking it open. To his dismay, you had disappeared before he could call out your name. The slight ache in his heart had nothing to do, he told himself, with the fact that you left before saying goodbye or anything else. 

With a sigh, he shut the barndoor again and leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes as he waited for the fog within his head to abate. One breath, two and then he righted himself. She would have been a good hump, he thought to himself almost forlornly. Deciding to give no further thought to it, he exited the barn and started for the hut where he hoped to find something to break his fast.

                                                            —

The day passed as any other, Grian warming the sky as much as she could. Her journey across the sky was unmarked yet unchanged, descending the same as it had ascended. As night fell, Leofric thanked Mildreth for the dinner in his hands, ready to make his quick escape to the barn. Pale dusk began to settle outside and, standing in the doorway, he could’ve sworn he saw a figure disappear near the barn. The air in the room was a bit… tense between Mildreth and Uhtred, but not in the way they had been when he yelled at her the day before. This was the tenseness of a wedding night, and Leofric had no intentions to find out if he was right.

“You do not wish to sleep in the house, Leofric?” Mildreth inquired politely.

“No, lady. The sheep will be missing me.” Uhtred snorted with laughter, eying his friend mischeivously. 

“Taking extra with you tonight, Leofric?” There was a gleam in Uthred’s gaze that reminded Leofric of why he had wanted to knock a tooth or two out of the arseling’s gleeful smile when they first met. “Worked extra hard today, I hope.”

Leofric glared at the arseling, tilting his head at the playful challenge. “Aye lord, I did. So hard, in fact, that I think I deserve this as well.” The taller man grabbed the horn of ale from Uthred’s hands before taking a long swig. “Well, I’ll bid you good night lady, arseling.” He gave them a curt nod before making his way to the barn.

Opening the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see you sitting across from where he had slept. “Missed the sheep?” he questioned teasingly.

“Aye. The one in the back, I’ve decided to call her Veldicca. She has been too great of company for anything else.” You were lying, of course. What you should have done was find somewhere else, gone anywhere else, but you didn’t. You came right back to this barn, and the reason for your return was now sitting across from you. 

Leofric chuckled as he stretched out his long legs in front of him. Grabbing one of the extra chunks of bread that he had taken at dinner, he tossed it to you. “Have you been thinking of me, Leofric of Wessex?” A shiver ran down his spine at the teasing tone of your voice. 

“Not at all.” Lie. You have haunted my thoughts all day. “I was extra hungry tonight, but I will be a gentleman and share my food with the lovely lady.” He gave you a small wink, which only made you return it with a small smirk.

You opened your mouth for a retort when the barndoor opened. Startled, the both of you jumped to your feet, hands flying to the pommels of weapons. “Leofric, I wanted to tell yo-...” Uthred stood in the doorframe, his words faltering mid-sentence when his eyes landed on you. A confused and somewhat concerned look graced his features, eyes flicking between you and Leofric. “Who is this?”

#the last kingdom #leofric #leofric x reader #leofric the last kingdom #leofric ltk #uthred of bebbanburg #uthred ragnarson #mildreth #mildreth the last kingdom #mildreth tlk #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #leofric fanfic #the last kingdom fanfiction #iseult #iseult the last kingdom #iseult tlk #iseult the shadow queen #shadow queen

[ivyandbone]

That last reblog's a cool idea but I'm not sure if that's what gwarch actually means... I'd have to ask someone that knows Welsh(i was able to sign up for Welsh classes again and the first one is tomorrow, if I remember i should ask my instructor) but looking it up i haven't found gwrach as a word on any of the translator sites i use or the Ap Geiriaduron dictionary.

Gwrachod on the other hand does come up as a verbnoun that can mean protect, shield, babysit, conserve, conversation, guard, safeguard, cover-up, and ward.

#rambling thoughts

[oathkeptroxas]

Death Wish.

(written for jayroyweek17 day 4 “scars” & day 7 “any au”)

summary: Loosely based on the Welsh folklore of gwarch-y-rhibyn (witch of death/death witch).The powers that be are not impressed with a certain death witch. He just can't seem to do it, for the first time in his existence, Jay has found a life he just can't take.

additional tags: Based on Welsh Folklore, Based on Celtic Folklore, Mild Horror, Discussions of Drug Abuse & Overdose, Creature!Jason, Forbidden Love, Suicidal Thoughts, Angst with a Happy Ending

Roy’s fingers were outstretched, and flexed as if beckoning the creature forward. If this was his death, then Roy would embrace it. He waited for the man to step forward, wondering briefly if it would be painful. The stranger’s face softened, became almost fond, nearly remorseful. Roy didn’t understand what that meant, wondering if the man had an opinion of him at all, considering he’d clearly been following him for some time and seen him at his worst. Roy couldn’t understand why there wasn’t any fear in him, he felt an unbelievable calm.

read on ao3 here.

this is only a quick little thing for the week, i would appreciate it if you could check out my other, better executed jayroy aus.

soulmate au here. zombie apocalypse au here. high school au here. (wip but nearing its end, hoping to update soon).

#jayroyweek17 #jayroy #my fic #posting a little early cos i'm too busy tomorrow

[paolaillustrations]

I drew my friend Soizic today (ressemblance=0 lol she s prettier in real life)(sorry Soizic) @gwarch

[papesatan]

mon amour Gwarch y Rhybin

Il fatto è che soffrendo e non trovando pace, mi pare almeno d'adempiere rispettosamente alle funeste volontà d'odio di tutti coloro a cui ho provocato del male, che avvelenerebbero per me qualunque sonno ingiustamente tranquillo.

[currentbalochistan]

A renowned Balochi poet goes missing in Balochistan.

6'March 2019

*(Current Balochistan)*

Current Balochistan has received some alarming news about Nazar Dost going missing overnight. The victim is the author of the books, "Koh Tawar Anth","Rooch gwarch", "Math Hoor Sara Enth" and 2 other books. Nazar Dost was harassed and abducted by the Pakistani forces in his hometown in Turbat.

Our correspondents revealed that Nazar Dost had been serving the Muscat army since several years and was only visiting Balochistan for a 2 month vacation when he was abducted and taken away to an undisclosed location.

Nazar Dost has dedicated a lot of thought and effort to the Balochi language through his impeccable writings in several books and articles through out his life.

We want to highlight the fact that Nazar Dost is not the only Baloch writer who has gone missing like that. There have been several other writers of the Balochi language who have been abducted and later killed and dumped for daring to write about Balochistan. This is the reason why several Baloch writers have been forced to flee Balochistan seeking refuge elsewhere.

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=302208070442308&id=132825120713938

[lailoken]

hey lailoken, i hope it's alright that i reach out here seeking advice on personal issues. with the holidays coming up, i'm looking to create a gift for my little sister that will offer spiritual protection. she is currently at a clinic recovering from a recent suicide attempt and is clearly still going through a hard spiritual battle that leaves her feeling exhausted and lost. i would appreciate advice if you think it appropriate. i was thinking something small and wood carved she can hold in her palm. for context, i'm not a ritual practitioner, i only feel i am on the path (said in the vaguest possible, but genuine, terms)

Hello there, and thank you for trusting me enough to reach out about this.

If you wouldn't be averse to messaging me directly, off of anonymous, I would be glad to try and help. In particular, I would be glad to send a Gwarch designed specifically to help protect and soothe her during this time of criss, free of charge, should that be something you'd be open to.

I am so sorry for the pain your sister is going through, as well as the pain all her loved ones are experiencing as witnesses to her suffering. My heart and prayers absolutely go out to her, and to you all.

#anonymous #ask #tw: suicide #cw suicide

[lailoken]

The Gwarch

One element of the magic worked in the Wending Way, which I decided would be worth sharing here, is what my partner and I call the “Gwarch” (pronounced like Quark, but with a G at the beginning, and a χ at the end.)

In Welsh, Gwarch translates as “What encloses or shuts up; a cover or lid.” Derivative words in Welsh include:

Gwarchad—“A covering over; guarding, securing, or protecting.”

Gwarchan—“What secures; an irresistible influence; a talisman or enchantment.”

& Gwarchawdyr—“A warden, conservator, or guard.”

In concept, a Gwarch is very akin to a charm bag and other similar magical devices, with particulars of operation unique to the workings my partner and I undertake. They can be used for beneficent and malefic magics alike, though they seem particularly potent when it comes to protective measures.

To elucidate the subject a little better, I thought I would document and explain the creation of a Gwarch meant to promote joy and ease after a period of grieving.

—

The first step in creating a Gwarch is to obtain the freely given shell of a snail, either terrestrial or aquatic. It must simply be abandoned, found by your own hand, and big enough to suit your purpose.

During the rite proper, the space is cleansed and aligned, pertinent powers are invoked, and then the caster's intention is encapsulated using a Sigil or composite-sigil on a small slip of paper. I’m not free to share any details about the specific sigil used here by my partner, but I included a picture of the paper mid-inscription, to give you an idea of the size of paper we used.

After the petition has been completed, fold it tightly into a strip that can be inserted into the opening of the shell, with as little paper as possible sticking out. Next, stuff the remainder of the shell’s interior with materials and items appropriate to the context of your Gwarch. Herbs, spices, and/or gums serve as the most common interiors. For this particular example, the shell was stuffed using a mixture of Rose, St. John’s Wort, and Chamomile.

Once the shell has been thoroughly packed with paper and plant materia, proceed to physically seal the charm by melting beeswax over the opening of the shell (of a color with meaningful correspondence to the practitioner and the working at hand) to properly secure the contents, while fumigating it with Dragon's Blood Smoke and energetically sealing the programming of Gwarch's given task.

In the case of this Gwarch, the target is to carry it in his breast pocket for nine days before burying it on the premises of his home. If we were to use it surreptitiously, then we would place it somewhere innocuous on his property, before returning nine days later and burying it ourselves.

#wending way #the snail #charm #gwarch #magic #witchcraft

[lailoken]

i was thinking about your post about incorporating snails into our practice during a walk on the lakeside, and i happened upon 5 tiny snail shells washed up on the shoreline. they're too small and damaged to use to make Gwarch, and i was wondering if you would mind sharing more suggestions for including them in our Work?

There are certainly ways to incorporate damaged shells into practice, though they can be slightly more labor-intensive. For instance, one thing that Ido when we find snail shells that are too damaged for stringing or Gwarch-making is crush them into a dust. I am currently in the process of steadily collecting snail shell fragments for use in a basic Luck Powder I've come to call ‘Dodman's Dust’, which I can share here.

—

Crush a number of freely given snail shells using a mortar and pestle. Some snail shells, particularly of the marine variety, are harder to powder than their terrestrial counterparts, so I suggest using a sieve to separate the harder bits from the more easily crushable material of need be. Once you have gathered an amount of snail shell powder you deem sufficient, place it somewhere auspicious (ideally, within a garden) and move on to the next steps.

On the night of the Full Moon, locate a fern plant that is sporulating. With most varieties, you can find small orange bumps of some kind lining the underside of leaves, which house the spores. Using a Hazel Rod, thoroughly scrape and shake these bumps to release the “Fern Dust,” allowing it to collect within a pewter dish. Once you have gathered a sufficient amount of Fern Dust, thank the fern and take the spores you’ve collected with you.

On that same night of the Full Moon, particularly under the auspices of Jupiter when possible, mix equal parts of the Fern Dust and Snail Shell Powder, adding one pinch of Hearth Ash , while reciting:

“By the fecund Moon that illumines the Night,

I ask the receipt of the Snail and the Fern;

That I might walk on a prosperous path,

With the wisdom of ease and the cunning of growth.

By the tapestry of starlight holding all the worlds together;

Sīe.”

Use it thereafter as a Luck Powder, to aid you in achieving success and/or avoiding trouble in a pinch. Sprinkle it on the shoes of a loved one who is going on a big trip; scatter it over the envelope containing a job application; dust your throat and forehead with it before going in for a presentation you’re nervous about; etc.

#anonymous #ask #the snail #luck powder #traditional withcraft #magic #wending way #hood work #hood working #powders

[lailoken]

I know I made a post recently talking about the Gean/Hag-Berry/Mazzard tree, but I wanted to give a quick shoutout to another variety of tree: The Tibetan Cherry (also called the Birchbark Cherry or Paperbark Cherry.)

Along with being, what I believe to be, one of the most gorgeous trees on Earth, I love Tibetan Cherry for its simple, but meaningful, use in magic. The bark of the tree, which peels off naturally in thin, spiraling sheets, is easy to collect without doing harm to the tree, and can be used as petition paper (for things such as Gwarchs) or a form of red ribbon (for things like love magic.) I even think I’m going to try and use ribbons of the bark as ritual cordage for upcoming Housels we undertake.

#personal #Tibetan Cherry #Cherry #trees #magic #red meal #housel #hood-feast

[lailoken]

I am making this post to let my followers know that, while I will remain ongoingly open for divinatory commissions, I will be unable to fulfill any commissions for physical items, such as charms, rosaries, or tools, from March 30th - April 15th. As such, if you are hoping to commission me for something like a Dodman’s Chain or a Gwarch in the near future, I highly suggest you put in your order in the next several days.

#personal #magical services