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greenwitchcrafts · 2 months

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March 2024 witch guide

Full moon: March 25th

New moon: March 10th

Sabbats: Ostara-March 19th

March Worm Moon

Known as: Crow Moon, Eagle Moon, Goose Moon, Hrethmonath, Lenting moon, Lentzinmanoth, Moon of Snowblind, Moon of Winds, Plow Moon, Sap Moon, Seed Moon, Sore Eyes Moon, Storm Moon, Sugar Moon & Wind Strong Moon

Element: Water

Zodiac: Pisces & Aries

Nature spirits: Air & water spirits & Mer-people

Deities: Artemis, Astarte, Athena, Cybele, Isis, Luna & Minerva

Animals: Boar, cougar & hedgehog

Birds: Sea crow & sea eagle

Trees: Alder, dogwood & honeysuckle

Herbs: Apple blossom, broom, high John root, Irish moss, pennyroyal, wood betony & yellow dock

Flowers: Daffodil, jonquil & violet

Scents: Apple blossom & honeysuckle

Stones: Aquamarine, bloodstone, jasper, opal &topaz

Colors: Pale-green, red, violet, yellow & white

Energy: Balance, beginnings, dream work, energy breaking into the open, exploring, fertility, inner development, karma, prosperity, spirituality, success & truth seeking

For many years, it was thought that the name "Worm Moon" referred to the earthworms that appear as the soil warms in spring. This invites robins and other birds to feed—a true sign of spring.

However, more research revealed another explanation. In the 1760s, Captain Jonathan Carver visited the Naudowessie (Dakota) and other Native American tribes and wrote that the name Worm Moon refers to a different sort of “worm”—beetle larvae—which begin to emerge from the thawing bark of trees and other winter hideouts at this time.

March’s full Moon often plays a role in religion, specifically in Christianity, this Moon is known as the Lenten Moon if it is the last full Moon of the winter season (i.e., if it occurs before the spring equinox) or as the Paschal Full Moon if it is the first full Moon of spring (i.e., if it occurs after the spring equinox).

Ostara

Known as: Alban Eiler, Lady Day & Spring/Vernal equinox

Season: Spring

Symbols: 8-spoked wheel, butterflies, chicks, decorated baskets, eggs, feathers, jellybeans, lambs, rabbits, seeds, shamrocks, spring flowers & sunwheels

Colors: Green, indigo, light blue, pastels, pink, red & yellow

Oils/Incense: African violet, florals, ginger, jasmine, lotus, magnolia, rose, sage & strawberry

Animals: Cormorant, hare, hawk, rabbit, sheep, sparrow & swallow

Mythical: Dragon & Unicorn

Stones: Amethyst, aquamarine, bloodstone, moonstone, red jasper & rose quartz

Food: Dairy foods, eggs(hard boiled), fruits, honey, honey cakes, leafy greens, vegetables, pine nuts, pumpkin, sunflower seeds, sprouts & waffles

Herbs/Plants: Acorn, cinquefoil, dogwood, ginger, Irish moss, olive, strawberry & woodruff

Flowers: Celandine, crocus, daffodil, dandelion, Easter lily, jasmine gorse, honeysuckle, hyssop, iris, jonquil, linden, narcissus, peony, snowdrop, tansy & violet

Goddesses: Aphrodite, Ariadne, Artemis, Athena, Coatlicue, Cybele,Demeter, Diana, Eos, Eostre, Flora, Gaia, Hera, Idunn, Iris, Ishtar, Juno, Minerva, Persephone, Venus & Vesta

Gods: Adonis, Attis, Celi, Cernunnos, Coel, Dagda, Dalon ap Landu, Dumuzi, Green Man, Lord of the Greenwood, Mithras, Odin, Osiris, Ovis & Pan

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Agriculture, balance, beauty, fertility, growth, life, love & rebirth/renewal

Spellwork: Air magick, fertility, new beginnings & water magick

Activities:

• Go on a hike/walk & look for signs of spring

• Add Ostara symbols to decorate your altar space

• Plant vegetable &/or flower seedlings

• Decorate eggs with bright colors

• Set your intentions for the weeks/months ahead

• Start a new class or hobby

• Create eggshell candles

• Make plans & new routines for the future

• Participate in rituals & ceremonies that connect you with energy & the life force of nature

• Have a feast with your friends &/family with sprouts & leafy greens

• Bake hot cross buns or lavender/lemon flavored treats

• Clean & de-clutter your home

• Try a re-birthing/ renewing ritual

• Bring fresh flowers or plants into into the home

• Host a spring & floral themed tea party

• Make egg based food dishes & desserts

This holiday marks the Spring Equinox, which happens before March 19-22. It is the second of three spring celebrations (the midpoint between Imbolc and Beltane) during which light & darkness are again in balance, with light on the rise. It is a time of new beginnings & of life emerging further from the grips of winter.

There is much debate regarding the origins of Ostara due to the lack of primary sources about this sabbat. One theory is the name of Ostara came from the Anglo-Saxon goddess Eostre. Another theory is that Eostre is more of a localized goddess in Kent County, England. Despite the questions of her origins, Eostre is associated with modern-day Pagan traditions of Ostara.

There is no evidence that the ancient Greeks or Romans celebrated Ostara, although they did celebrate their own spring festivals, such as the Roman festival of Floralia & the Greek festival of Anthesteria. It was a time to honor the returning sun, fertility & rebirth.

Related festivals:

• Nowruz- March 19th

Nowruz marks the first day of spring & renewal of nature. It is celebrated on the day of the astronomical vernal equinox. It is also celebrated as the beginning of the new year by people all around the world for over 3,000 years in the Balkans, the Black Sea Basin, the Caucasus, Central Asia, the Middle East & other regions.

It promotes values of peace & solidarity between generations & within families as well as reconciliation & neighbourliness. Nowruz plays a significant role in strengthening the ties among peoples based on mutual respect & the ideals of peace and good neighbourliness.

Traditional customs of Nowruz include fire & water, ritual dances, gift exchanges, reciting poetry, symbolic objects & more; these customs differ between the diverse peoples & countries that celebrate the festival.

• Holi- March 25th

Holi is a popular & significant Hindu festival celebrated as the The festival of colors, Love &Spring. It commemorates eternal and divine love of the deities Radha & Krishna. Additionally, the day signifies the triumph of good over evil, as it celebratess the victory of Vishnu as Narasimha over Hiranyakashipu. Holi originated & is predominantly celebrated in the Indian subcontinent, but has also spread to other regions of Asia & parts of the Western world through the Indian diaspora.

Holi also celebrates the arrival of Spring in India, the end of winter & the blossoming of love. It is also an invocation for a good spring harvest season. It lasts for a night & a day, starting on the evening of the Purnima (full moon day) falling on the Hindu calendar month of Phalguna, which falls around the middle of March in the Gregorian calendar.

• Easter- March 31st

also called Pascha or Resurrection Sunday is a Christian festival & cultural holiday commemorating the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, described in the New Testament as having occurred on the third day of his burial following his crucifixion by the Romans at Calvary c. 30 AD. It is the culmination of the Passion of Jesus Christ, preceded by Lent (or Great Lent), a 40-day period of fasting, prayer, & penance.

Easter traditions vary across the Christian world & include sunrise services or late-night vigils, exclamations & exchanges of Paschal greetings, flowering the cross & the decoration and the communal breaking of Easter eggs (a symbol of the empty tomb) among many others. The Easter lily is a symbol of the resurrection in Western Christianity traditionally decorates the chancel area of churches on this day & for the rest of Eastertide. Additional customs that have become associated with Easter & are observed by both Christians & some non-Christians include Easter parades, communal dancing, the Easter Bunny & egg hunting.

Other Celebrations:

• Festival of Luna- March 31st

Is a feast day honoring the Goddess Luna who is seen as the divine embodiment of the Moon.

The Temple of Luna was a temple on the Aventine Hill in Rome, dedicated to Luna, the moon goddess. Its dedication was celebrated on March 31st, thus the celebration.

According to Tacitus, it was built by king Servius Tullius. However, the first confirmed reference to a temple to Luna dates to 182 BC & refers to one of its doors being knocked off its posts by a miraculous blast of air & shot into the back of the Temple of Ceres. That account probably places the temple at the north end of the hill, just above porta Trigemina. The temple was struck by lightning around the time of the death of Cinna, as was the temple of Ceres. After the destruction of Corinth, Lucius Mummius Achaicus dedicated some of his spoils from the city to this temple. It was destroyed in the Great Fire of Rome in 64 AD & not rebuilt.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

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piffany666 · 5 months

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What you favourite gba character says about you! (Based on the Eldena doubleca5t series on YouTube)

(This is a joke please do not take any of this personally)

Loyal: your probably either a black butler fan or an angle beats fan

Servos: you had a crush on Marshalllee from adventure time

Yargwin: at some point in your life you've probably been obsessed with either Jack sparrow or Captin hook from Once upon a time. That being said you do have good taste

Kalomos: you just wanted good things for kalomos and really....who wouldn't?

Lry: you need everyone in this series to just chill the f*k out for like 5 minutes

Vail: your favourite trope is a character being blissfully unaware of how powerful they are

Raspa: you are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of a mad scientist

Mortals: you have some....complicated feelings about episode 3 of space pirates

Vision: your childhood crush was garnett from steven universe

Heartburn: you still don't know the answer to the mystery of 1. Why did yargwin tell him that "him and Arkov aren't married" and 2. Why heartburn is even here but the difference is that your not mad about the second one

Kaunda: your either a lesbian or a liar

Banar: you really like full metal alchemist

The butterfly king: your OTP is fizz x Ozzmodius from hellova boss

Albus: you are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of "I can fix him" but you will inevitably realise that you can't and then promptly exept him as he is

Devlin: your probably autistic and the quickest way to your heart is somebody showing even the slitest amount of intrest In YOUR special interest

Odin: you really like God of war

Odysseus: you understand the significance of Odin calling him that...also you probably really like "epic the musical"

Tyr: you really like lore olympus

Fenrir: you are a furry that or your just a redacted fan

Okami: you were the f*kers who kept spaming "okami did nothing wrong" in that one live stream

Makkaro: you are a firm believer in the inherent eroticism of "a hero will sacrifice you to save the world but a villan will sacrifice the world to save you"

Zed: I want to use the joke used by the person this post was inspired by and say that you like "men👏 getting 👏pegged!" But honestly if your favourite character is zed you probably just really like the owl house

Mirrin: when zed asked the guardian if they used to be lovers you got your hopes up way to quickly

Frank: you had a crush on Billy butcherson from hocus pocus

Hipswich: you believe in the inherent eroticism of the song "good lookin"

Mahatma/atila: this is just the same joke as raspa but like even more so

Huginn: your favourite ship dynamic is "neurodivergent character rambling" x "could listen to them talk forever"

Muninn: your favourite asmr trope is reverse comfort

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acciotherapists · 6 months

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Little Sparrow Chapter 7

Loki x Reader Mafia AU

When Tony Stark's little sister wakes up deep in enemy territory she assumes her life is over. She'll be killed or worse: used as a bargaining chip against her estranged brother. What happens when the mafia leader, Loki Laufeyson, offers her a deal she can't refuse? No sentiment. Only revenge. What happens when the truth is revealed? Will she betray her only family or betray the man she loves to hate? Little Sparrow is an enemies to lover's fic riddled with betrayal and spice!

“Why are you letting me go?” I asked the young boy standing in front of me.

“You don’t deserve this,” he replied, tossing the chains aside as he helped me stand. “Come with me.” He held out his hand and I took it, letting him lead me out of the compound.

He led us to a house through some woods behind the compound, promising me we’d be safe there.

“My father doesn’t know about this place. Thor bought it for me when dad sometimes got really drunk and we needed somewhere to hide.”

I didn’t know what to say but thankfully he didn’t seem to mind. He tucked me in the small bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. He reached for the lamp on the nightstand but I stopped him.

“Can you leave the lights on.”

He smiled, though it didn’t meet his eyes. “Of course, little one.”

I jolted awake, breathing heavily as I took in the surrounding room and the throbbing pain in my head.

“Hey, darling,” Loki said softly, gently guiding back to the bed. “Lay back down. It’s alright.” He pressed his lips to my hair as he pulled the covers up to my chin. “Just rest. It’s alright.”

“W-where’s Odin?”

“Gone, darling. He won’t hurt you. I’m so sorry.” Something wet dripped onto my cheek and I looked up, finding tears streaming down his cheeks. I carefully wiped them as my mind clouded with memories.

“My name’s Loki.”

“Y/n.”

My eyes widened.

“You can’t tell anyone about this, Y/n. When they ask how you escape you just tell them you ran away, alright?”

“Why can’t I tell the truth?”

“You just can’t. If my father finds out the Avengers know I helped you… it makes us look weak.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

Loki was looking at me, waiting for me to say something but my throat felt dry and no words were coming out as I sat back up.

“Darling, what is it? Should I get the healer?”

I shook my head. “Does your father know?” I hissed. “Does everyone know except me?”

“Darling… what are you talking about?”

“It was me… wasn’t it?”

He said nothing.

“Wasn’t it?!” I yelled, pushing him away from me. “Is that what this is? You feel sorry for me? Like I’m that little girl again? Well, I’m not!”

“No! That’s not it! I knew you didn’t remember and I… I wanted to find out why.”

“Why does it matter to you? Why do you care?” Tears filled my eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He dragged a hand across his face, inhaling deeply. “I wanted you to remember on your own.”

“That only answers one question, Laufeyson,” I hissed. “Why make this deal with me? Why save me in the first place?”

“Because you didn’t deserve what Odin had planned for you… and I made the deal with you because I wanted to see if what I felt was real… or if it was just because I saw you as someone I could protect.”

“And?”

He finally turned to face me.

“I don’t know anymore. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. This was just supposed to be a mutually beneficial deal.”

“And what is it now?”

He sighed. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”

“I feel nothing,” I lied. “All this time I thought I was going crazy. Everything about this place seemed familiar but I thought I was losing it. All this time you’ve been hiding who you really are. Why not just tell me when you found me?”

“I wanted you to remember on your own.”

I scoffed. “Funny that it took getting slapped by your father for me to remember.”

He sat on the bed next to me. “I never wanted that to happen.” He moved his hand to my cheek. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

I removed his hand. “Yeah, well I did,” I spat.

My heart clenched as I looked up at him, finding tears in his eyes, and the guilt slowly started to seep in.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

“Darling, no.” He shook his head, lifting his hand, but he stopped, his hand hanging in midair. “May I?”

I nodded and he returned his hand to my cheek, gently wiping away my tears. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

My eyes widened as it finally occurred to me. “The little girl you said you saved…”

He nodded.

“You took a beating for me.”

“Darling, I would take any beating for you.”

“Don’t say that.”

He smiled softly, bringing his lips to my forehead. “I mean it,” he murmured. “What Odin did was nothing compared to the pain I would’ve felt if he’d hurt you… the pain I felt when I saw you lying on the ground after he hit you.” He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry I let that happen. I failed you, darling.”

I shook my head, pushing the blankets off my legs and sitting up on my knees. I wrapped my arms around his neck and I felt his hands move around my waist.

“Darling… as amazing as this feels… you need to rest.”

“Then lay with me.”

He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against mine. “You’re not still angry with me?”

“Oh, I’m seething,” I smirked. “But I find that the best cure for anger is cuddles.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

He climbed into the bed next to me, being careful not to hurt me as he pulled the blankets over us and I buried my face against his chest.

It wasn’t long before I began to fall asleep, my eyes growing heavy as I listened to the sound of his breathing.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he murmured, kissing my forehead as sleep finally claimed me.

*****

Taglist: @honeyrydernot @evelyn-kingsley

#loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki friggason #loki of asgard #marvel #lokixreader #loki odinson #marvel mcu #avengers #mafia #mafia au #marvel au #marvel x reader #avengers x reader

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spotsupstuff · 10 months

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It f*cking makes sense!!!!! Love all of your Cycle explanation!!!!

Would love to hear of the OG Gods Folks, and who was the God of the respawn mechanic? How many OG Gods where at the beginning? What was the original idea/theme of the Void and the Void Worms before it was corrupted for you?

ha yeah!!!! yeah it does!! welcome to the Spot Lore Technique where stuff makes sense because we are using My rules and my rules say we should tastefully disregard some canon bits, bullshit stuff and play Connect 4

okay so this turned out hardly organized n i don't think nor feel like helping it, so click here for brain word vomit. took like four hours to get it all down, i got excited:

the Folk Gods differed from local culture to local culture so there's different interpretations! similarly to the deal stuff with Odin/Thor, Perún and Zeus. certain themes stick together (like leading god + thunder/lightning in the examples) and connect interpretations of the Folk Gods, though sometimes a singular God can be split into more in tales cuz it fits better for their situation for whatever reason

the thing with pagan/folk gods is that they often stand behind some kind of Thing that impacts the people a lot (the seasons, the weather, stuff like that), so trynna count them all including the minor gods would be fuckin. Ouchie n there's only so much world-building my hands can take so i'mma leave that as an open number

the Folk Gods i KNOW i want to have are Gods that would match with these karma symbols

and then some nature-based Gods, like maybe for the seasons. and then, of course!!! The Anemoi!!!!! Zephyrus, Boreas, Euros and Notos are all actual Gods in the pagan believes. it's why Sparrows defaults to calling our Euros "Caper". after learning about the Folk Gods, our Euros kind of lets go of how exactly he wants to be called and mentally defaults to Caper as well. an Iterator silently worshipping the original Gods... what a puzzling, unexpected thing

(the Anemoi iterator names are- i actually threw them together hastily, but i've been freaking out about it for a bit now Specifically cuz i didn't plan this out, but the other pieces of their names (that Sparrows would default to calling them)- Caper, Abet, Blessing and Biting/Bite- actually Really well reflect their roles in the Iterators'-post-mass-ascension story and i'm SO proud of that. i just wanted to gush about that real quick, excuse me jlkgsjldkckl)

i've been actually thinkin about making a second set of the Anemoi, with Apeliotes, Keikias, Lips and Skeiron, if only to fluff up the Iterator group a bit, so we will see

they are using the greek names cuz i'm too lazy to bother with figuring out some special names for them. let's have shout outs to cultures with the god names outside of the 10 karma symbol ones

oh and they weren't originally meaning to be using actual Names in the Iterator names (-looks guiltily at the canon Ittie names-). the Anemoi iterators are just special cases. it all started with Zephyr- which is an actual normal word in the english language, That's her name, she isn't actually named after a God- but someone was like "hey, what if we do a set out of this" and now we have the Anemoi Iterators with special treatement and in leading roles of Things (Haboob is one of them but she's. kind of an outsider in their lil group- it's a whole thing, but this isn't the post for it)

the God of the respawn mechanic was most likely the God that ends up standing for the Survival karma symbol!!

other notable gods: • the God of the tenth karma, also known as The One Who Exonerates, the Reaper or, to us, known as the Saint ;D (I STILL HAVE TO PLAY THE FUCKIN SAINT CAMPAIGN but I think this take is gon stay). The Saint is an incarnation of the God, it took the form of a slugcat cuz they are all indeed extinct during that time n it's kind of the God's trademark Thing to become something like the walking dead. "this species isn't supposed to be alive anymore. why is one of them walking towards me right now?" (imagine a dodo bird threateningly approaching you with flashing eyes, bro wtf...). it came down into the mortal realm like this to sweep away all remnants of the previous civilization (the Ancients) so the life cycle of the planet may begin anew again (as inspired by the Aztec myth of Earth having multiple incarnations/live times. i could swear there's smth like this in Theosophy as well but ergh -shrugs-). i've read quite a few things about the tales of Gods or clean beings like that coming down when i was a kid (i was a strange one) and REALLY fuckin adore how Saint collecting the echoes to get its final ascension ability can mirror really well the journey that incarnated clean beings have to go thru. they may be Gods, holy things, but they still need to Learn when they come here to offer their help and love • the God of the fourth karma. it's Gourmand. shkiki kept yellin at me about how fuckin horrid this take is when i first came to this conclusion in our DMs so now it's FUCKIN canon to me. spite fuels me still. Gourmand is an ACTUAL FUCKIN GOD. he came down to the world to just chill 🤙 • the God of the sixth karma. Maybe. i'd like to poke 'em just because they are connect to Moon (that's Yet another thing- Moon is the sixth iterator ever created n the first ten mirror these gods and the Karma symbols. i want to design the other 9 at some point, i really do)

a big trademark thing for incarnations of the Gods is that they are always kind, in their own way. if it's blindly vengeful like Artificer, it can't be a God in the flesh

i'm gueesing you mean more the global religion than the void itself- the void stays pretty static n normal when compared to canon i think. it does what it does for the world, pushing the planet's cycle along by eating away at the buried physical past, the Void Worms are like guides within it. they take the creatures who fall into this dark to the light, to become everything and nothing at the same time- reach that Nirvana

the void is a way of ascension and progression for the *world*, not the sapient creatures- the Ancients played with something so much more grander than they could ever hope to be. spaient creatures are meant to have fun on top of the world and then polish themselves into godly cleanness (reachin max karma) n then ascend. the void ascension method is just plain wrong

the GLOBAL religion's initial idea was that the sins are just things one should beware not to cling on to (or become obsessed with/addicted to). clinging creates tension, it produces the fear of loss. one should not live in fear. in the constant stress produced by the anticipation of "when will i lose this. when will i lose it. when. when. when.". for example the fifth sin- do not cling to survival because if you are going to be terrified of not make it you will be unable to live your life to the fullest. it doesn't mean the exact opposite in return- one should not desire death, and, one should not fear death. all comes and goes and the best thing one can do is accept it

the Extremists of this came in and sharpened this well-meaning affable wisdom into strict rules of "You Can't Have This At All and if you DO You Will Suffer." (aka haha christianity irl). you can't fight against violence with violence even if it's your only choice, you can't feel lust and give your partner carnal love, you can't have friends and other such relationships, you shouldn't have food and ultimately- we all should not live at all. this Extremist version of the faith was the aggressive thing that colonized the rest of the world and forced everyone to look the same way towards own destruction

the Extremists are why the respawn gimmick gift of the God was turned into a curse. they made everyone look at how it hurts to die and that dying Once only promises that it will happen again. "there is never any end to it!" they whine and screech. the gift was originally seen as a good thing because it was that *second chance*... that even if your loved one will die even when they tried so hard not to, you won't have to go through the pain of losing them for good. they'll be here, they are here, you still have the time to give each other the love. it's okay

so quite literally just a case of seeing the glass half full and half empty. the Extremists brought in the negative thinking (And Therefore The Iterators Too). that was ALL especially catastrophic for the lower circles cuz the higher ones at least lived in comfort and not too much of fear of death

fuckin... poor Sparrows here almost got crushed by Euros' rain when she was like 4, has had to live in fear of the oxygen poisoning, almost being chomped by all sorts of animals and having to force herself to think that this is all okay, how it's supposed to be, because otherwise she might as well go crazy or get so emotionally destroyed she'd end up being a completely different, depression-riddled person. all the while the royals up in Ales are sipping at nectar, watching the birds fly and staring into crystal balls and other such divination things

#Spot says stuff #rain world #rw #oc tag

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heavenlymorals · 1 year

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Did The Seer Have A Name?

Summary: Sometimes, the Seer, forever this fixed point in time, wonders if he has ever had a name. A name is to dignify and some are cracked mirrors to the names of others.

I was cleaning out my documents and WIPs and found this little number. I honestly don't even remember writing it (bad sign, I need to sleep more 😞), but I figured I might as well wrap it up with three or two more sentences. And I made a shitty moodboard too to practice. All images are from pinterest (one day I'll be on the level of my mutuals). I also feel the need to say that I'm taking a little break from writing (I'll make a masterlist soon), so this will be the last 3,000+ word fic in a while. I will post drabbles and other attempts at motherboards later.

Did the Seer have a name?

A name is to dignify, yes?

Maybe. Perhaps.

Truthfully, no one knew. How could they know? Even he didn’t know. The Seer didn’t know if he had a name.

No. Maybe he did know. Not now, of course, since he cannot recall if he even had one, but maybe in the past. But what was the past, then? Time did not exist for the Seer. For the Seer, the world continued moving forever and ever, yet never moved at all. A paradox in itself, to be sure, but one that made sense to his mind, a mind which knew evil things, the slopes of madness that looked over some maledictus abyss. Before swords, men used cudgels. The purpose was the same. To kill and to harm.

Did the Seer have a name?

Who knew?

Did it matter? Surely, it should. Names mattered and have always mattered for names dignify what or who something or someone is. A creature that has feathers and can fly is too long a name. Thus, the word used to classify such beasts is ‘birds’. And birds have their own separate names. A raven is a raven. A sparrow is a sparrow. A hawk is a hawk. An eagle is an eagle.

The purpose was simple. To dignify the existence of these creatures and to dignify what and who they are.

Dogs, birds, cats, men.

A name is to dignify.

Did the Seer have a name?

If he did, it got lost in time and will never be found again. How long has the Seer existed? Was he once a child, born like any other child, from the womb of a mother who screamed in agony as her body pushed forth life? Or did he simply come to exist, a brother to the sun, a sister to the moon? Was he there when Odin and his brothers used the body of Ymir as the paints to their canvas of creating a world? When they spread his brains to be clouds and his hair to be trees? If so, how long ago was that? Would names even exist? Or would names back then only be archaic, primordial things, bestial in nature, such as grunts or bird-like clicks?

Did the Seer have a name?

Yes and no.

For as long as humankind has known he existed, his name was simply the Seer. It changed every now and then, depending on the tongue. Today he is Seer, yesterday, the prophet, but the meaning was, for all intents and purposes, the same. He is the man who in his blindness, can see far beyond anyone and anything. An effeminate trait and culture of magic, to be sure, but one that was his and one that made him who he is. He is the Seer. He is the man who could see when no one else can. That would be the closest thing to a name he could have.

He is the man whose being, if his being even existed, was one that was a slave to the Northern Gods, a slave with no chains on his gaunt, leathery wrists. He knows the other gods, the gods of the deserts, and the gods that crown themselves as the only gods, but his allegiance was with his own gods and no one else's. His gods, their puppet.

He knew the world and its darkness. The world was a wolf, instinctively a beast, and though the wolf will have its moments of gentleness, its instincts were thorough and selfish. Men were wolves. Men will always be wolves. There was a brotherhood between men and wolves, one that neither side knew of or cared for. Men will kill wolves for the pelts. Wolves will kill livestock and families will starve. Each was the same. They take for the benefit of themselves, and that benefit could be as simple as living. Life was cruel. Yes. That. Life was cruel and men are wolves and wolves are men. The same. Monsters.

Even something as unassuming and innocent such as a vine of flowers on the trunk of a tree is deceiving. The same bond that men share with wolves, they share with plants as well. The weeds will choke the flowers, rendering them husks. The vines will strangle the branches, denying them light. Seeds will spread and drop, their only purpose to multiply and take over. Conquerors. A field of flowers is pleasing to the eye but those droplets of color in a vastness of dull green wouldn’t exist if they did not maim the plants underneath them.

They’re all monsters. Nothing is innocent. Nothing is pure. For something to live, something else must die. And this is nothing more but the truth.

The Seer knew this and lived with it every day. He knew the realities of the world, he knew men and their desires, the majority of them instinctual, the rest baseless. Many people would scorn him for the way he spoke to them, the way he answered their questions and didn’t answer them at all. Truthfully, he was doing them a favor. All their desires amount to nothing. They are nothing. Nothing but beasts, insatiable and cruel. Thus, for their sake, it was better for them to speculate and hope and make their own decisions.

Hope that often leads to debauchery.

Fate. It was fate. Could they escape it? No. But let them pretend that they can.

Sometimes, the Seer wonders if he has ever cried. If he has ever cried for the plight of the Earth and humanity.

Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. For how long he has existed, maybe he had no more tears left to give, thus giving birth to his apathy, his acerbity.

There was a children’s song once, a long time ago, or maybe not long ago at all, about his outward portrayal of bitterness. It was not sung anymore, perhaps forgotten as this illusion of time maimed all those who could have known it, but he remembered a part of it.

The Seer is the Seer!

He sees and he hears!

He can cry no more!

He knows the fate of every king and whore!

Yes. Fate.

His curse. To know fate was his curse. What did they say? Ignorance is bliss?

Something of the sort, but they are right. The happiest people are those who blanketed their lives in ignorance. The most miserable were those who were far too thirsty for knowledge. They say that mankind was built in the image of the gods and the Seer could only agree, for the Gods are selfish and humans are selfish as well.

He has been here in Kattegat for a long time. Longer before it was even named Kattegat. He has been here before the days of the late Jarl Haraldson and his father and his father before him. He has seen mankind for all it has to offer and he had himself a slight chuckle when he thought of the people who reminded him the most of the Gods in this once spartan Kingdom.

The royal family. The farmer who catapulted himself to the position of a King. The fierce woman who left him because of his faithlessness and became an Earl out of blood and anger. The daughter of legends whose family’s tragedy latched onto her as well. And the King’s sons, bright, fierce, and terrible.

Ragnar Lothbrok shared the same likeness as the man with many names. The frenzied one. The flaming eye. The friend of wealth. The spear shaker. The terrible one. The blind one. Killer. Calmer. Welcomed one. Wodan. Wotan. Odin. The all-father, father of all men. The god who gave his eye to drink from a well of knowledge. The god who would travel the realms, cloaked in darkness, to know everything about anything. Odin was never satisfied with his lot. He always wanted more. Ragnar always wanted more. His gift and his curse. It made him a King, a man to be admired, but it made him miserable, a man thrown in constant limbo, never knowing what it is he truly desires. If he had gold, he wanted more. If he had women, he wanted more. If he had sons, he wanted more. The people in his life became like the things in life. Objects for him to hang as ornaments to his name. More. More. It will never be enough, for he always wanted more. If he could have the world, he would then want the stars. If he could have the stars, he would then want the universe. Perhaps even the universe wouldn’t be enough. His undoing.

And who would Lagertha be but the human mirror of Freya? Passionate, angry, confident, insecure. Insatiable. Jealous. A weaver of grain and a sheath of a sword. The queen and the farmer. Respected for her gifts, ignoring her faults. A mistress of death, a patroness. Yes. Lagertha. Freya. The goddess who is worshiped and sang for her generosity, and whose other seedy deeds are covered by the veneration of those who turn a blind eye. Don’t lie. Blind. Blind. A companion of Odin thus loved even more because of a king’s vigor. Where are their bandages? The ones that cover their eyes? Where are the parasites? The ones that feast on their eyes? Selfish Freya, still a protector of the people. Sorrowful Freya, who cried tears of gold for a husband who would come to her no longer. Angry Lagertha, whose tears became poison. Loved too much, thus she is still golden. Let her masquerade as this protector. Let her be loved. Let the people forget her cruelty, her selfishness, for nothing is fair.

Have you not heard the story of the Volsungs? A tale as old as time, a tale of any other royalty. Treachery, debauchery, greed, anger, pettiness. Was it a gift or a curse that her parents succumbed to the wrath of the mother? They are dead. Their daughter? Alone and abandoned and unloved. Aslaug would procure the likeness of Frigga. A paradox, for sure, as Frigga is surrounded by those who adore her, who love her, and would always make sure she knows she is loved. It didn’t matter. Aslaug had other things that come from the likeness of Frigga. She shared a kinship with the Seer, for they can see the suffering that no one else could. She was blessed for it to be less so. She was beautiful. She was fertile. A goddess of beauty and fertility, two cornerstones for the women of the north, for women on every corner of the earth. Her curse. Her children, her curse. Her children, her sorrow. The ballasts of her life and those whom she loved most of all, for they were the architects of her suffering that made her life’s purpose to warm the throne of the insatiable traveler.

What of Bjorn, then? Thor, child of the Earth. A brother of Thor. Thor with his wild red hair. Thor with his powerful Mjolnir. Thor, a protector of man, a warrior tied by the hearts of those under him. His strength, the most powerful God of them all. Is that not Bjorn then? A hero of his people, someone who will always be there to protect. Terrifying, huge, stalwart rock in the middle of a raging ocean, brought forth by the smarmy, slimy, ghastly withering of the serpent who hugs the world. A protector, a hero, the diamond of men. And beyond that, a glutton for the carnal. For warm flesh to lie with, for warm flesh to cut into a million ribbons, garlands on a tree. Call the thunder, hear his voice. Lord Thor! Bjorn Ironside! Sides of iron, who can pierce him? The men of the cloth? The devourers? The Jotnar? Hero of men! Blundering fool, angry fool, always quick to cast thunder on them who don't fall to his every beck and call. Angry Thor. Angry Bjorn. Would the title of a king belong to him by right? Or by strength? Or by pride? Which one is it, Thor? Ironside?

From the womb of a wise woman, from the womb of a witch, a father sees the crowning of his third child, who then opted to take all his father's features and discard the rest of the broods. He was given the name Ubbe. Unfriendly wolf. Maybe he was a wolf, determined to take his father's legacy and shatter it from its original image of insatiable treachery to be one of humble, domestic prosperity. Born a Prince yet yearning to be a farmer. Freyr. Lord of the harvest, with no sickle in his hand. Sweet, kind Freyr, who was followed by the sun, venerated for his kindness, a hearty dove in a world of hawks and eagles. Sweet Ubbe, whose tawny hair turned a Christian halo from the light of his genuine smiles. Wise Ubbe, who can sense the faults of others, not unlike a wolf sniffing a hunt. Sweet Freyr! Kind Freyr! Was it kindness when Freyr allowed his stave to terrify Gerd with curses and hexes in order for her to marry him? Selfish. Men are selfish. Even the "good" ones are selfish. Wise Ubbe, so keen to see the faults in those ought to follow him, so blind to his own. Wolf. Wolf. A wolf in the garb of a lamb.

The second of the gods' descended womb. Hvitserk. Halfdan. White garb. White linen. Not so white anymore. How do you keep a tunic clean, if your domain is filthy, purifying crimson that runs deep in all men’s blood, that keeps all men alive? Can you? Is it even possible? How does one keep a tunic clean, if his being is nothing but a glutton? Number five. Gluttony, insatiable hunger, gluttony. A sword he swings to satisfy his gluttony, far beyond food or drink, though he adores that too. Beast! Beast! Yet, still, honorable. Tyr, is that him? Who would give his arm to the wolf, knowing that the wolf is a monster? He who would trick the wolf? You, ever the stalwart champion of the gods? They love you! They look at you with hatred and fear, as they see you hacking bones like the reed. Admiration in their eyes, as they see you hacking bones like the reed. Oh, they love him, second son, forgotten son! They hate him, that patron of death! Why else would they forget him? Terrible glutton…War is his mead, treachery the key to his glee. Stop crying, fool. You are as terrible as the rest of them.

Oh, a lie that was. To say that the second of the wise woman is the forgotten son. What of the third? He, who was destined for greatness. A lindworm lays cased in the ice of his eyes. His pupil a broken yolk, dripping downwards. Unnatural. Marked for greatness. His name a marker from his late grandfather, a legend amongst many, Sigurd. Sigurd. A name of a king! A name of a legend! A name of a grave lost and forgotten and swept away by the sands of time. Who defiles his grave now? Besides the maggots and the flies? Who visits his grave now? No one, it seems. Forgotten. He is forgotten. Taken away, not too soon, not too late, as death has no time, by the ax gripped by his own blood. What is his legacy? What did he leave him with, since he died too soon? Always a more delicate thing, with his poems and his songs. Bragi then. Lord Bragi, whose vice was art and song. Nothing else is worth noting. After all, what did he do that was worth noting? Taken away, not too soon, not too late. Taken and forgotten.

The last of them, then. The last of the wanderer’s legacy. Everything he ever wanted. Everything he ever despised. The favorite, the forgotten. The loved, the despised. Bow warrior. Ivar. Genius Ivar. Boneless Ivar. Cartilage shatters in his walk, and proportionally, his mind turns to stone. Blessed son. Cursed changeling. Everything about him is a contradiction, everything about him strange. Even his visage. His visage then does not come from one god, but from two, stitched together from the womb. The elusive traveler's favorite, the lord of light, wise, beautiful, and courageous. Lord Baldur. The elusive traveler’s forgotten, the lord of night, imperfect, and cold. Lord Hodr. The one who could not die, for his mother walked to every corner of the earth, coercing the world to never kill her child. You cannot kill me, he screams. You cannot kill me, for I am Ivar the Boneless! The one who killed him who could never die, by the most unlikely thing. The second killed his better half. He will do that soon, and then the world will end. Over. It will be over. I am Ivar the Boneless, and I will live forever! No. Never. He is immortal, he is wise, and he is cruel and imperfect, the coldness and cruelty of winter ever so present in those blue eyes of his. Blue. Blue. Too blue. Cursed. Hodr was blind. Ivar was crippled. Both were imperfect. His twin, Baldur, was beautiful and wise. The two twins then, that was the youngest. The best and the worst of both of them. Wise, courageous, selfish manipulator.

The Seer felt pity for all of them. They were most like the gods. They were powerful like the gods. The Seer, however, forever this fixed point in time who knows the tragedies of the past and those that are to come so he had nothing but pity.

Pity for what, though?

They were all the architects of their own suffering. They may blame it on others, but who are they kidding besides themselves and those who are trapped in the roles that they were forced into so long ago? Not the gods, hypocrites as they are. Not the Seer, who sees and hears, who can cry no more, for he knows the fate of every king and whore.

If the Seer was to replace their names, Ragnar with Odin, Lagertha with Freya, Aslaug with Frigga, and so on and so forth, they would still be the same. Selfish, cruel people who pity only themselves and don't expect or want pity from anyone else yet yearn for it deeply.

A name is to dignify, and some names dignify the same thing.

Gods are humans. Humans are gods. Evil. Selfish. Cruel.

Bastards.

Many times, he wished he could weep for those who tried their best to crawl from and claw away at their instincts, the instincts that made them kin to wolves and plants. He couldn’t though. He had no more tears left to give. They dried out a long time ago. All he could do now is laugh at their pitiful state, of trying to change a world that can never bend to their will.

No wonder so many good men go mad. How could they not?

Many times people have scorned him for his riddles, for his poetic answers, but the Seer knows it is for their own good. He will answer their questions, sure, but what is the point of telling someone their fate if they will try, in their futile nature, to change it?

Did the Seer have a name?

Maybe, long ago, when his title did not become his name. When he did not become this fixed point in time, never a victim to the onslaughts of mortality. Maybe, long ago, when he might’ve been a man, like any other man. When he might’ve been a man whose witchcraft was not an already embedded precognition, but one that came from him trying to read fate with scattered chicken bones.

A name is important. A name is to dignify.

Did the Seer have a name?

Yes.

He is the Seer.

He who is cursed with knowing the fate of everyone and everything.

That is his name.

#vikings #fanfic #ivar the boneless #ubbe ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson #aslaug #bjorn ironside #sigurd snake in the eye #ragnar lothbrok #lagertha #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #vikings fanfiction #viking edits

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wanderlustspider · 1 year

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re: my premonition of death and crow; - I wonder if someone can help me figure this out as I have been searching far and wide for a direction about this even though my intuition is telling me what I think it might be. I will try to make this very short and brief I will put it in point form; -after a life tragedy I'm coming into awareness in terms of my connection to the other worlds, psychic abilities and more specifically connection with Raven / crows but birds in general too. -in my 20s (I'm 40 now)-, I used to go sit at the cemetery when I had a lot of anxiety from school. It was a peaceful place and one day I was sitting in my car with the window down, noticed a crow or Raven that flew in front of the car and landed on the grass by a tombstone and I was just looking at it, and my mind literally just had a flash of thought across that that literally said “, Grandma is going to die tonight”. I thought it was so random and I just thought my mind was going to weird places because I saw a crow and I know that there's a superstition about them. My grandmother was not sick and in fact did actually pass away that morning the next day. No one could get ahold of her and my uncle had to crawl in her bedroom window to find her having passed away in her sleep. I was really freaked out about this and never told anybody and they would think I was crazy or lying. 2.I am a highly sensitive person and I'm starting to realize it now but ever since I was a young child I've always been connected to animals in terms of teaching people to save them and not hurt bugs etc (scoop up spiders let them outside etc) . That was the only time that I had something pop across my head - I have had other things since (non row related) but only a few predictions that happened, including a thought telling me, "Imagine this transport truck hit you up here on this skyway"- and 3 seconds later it did and I survived a horrific accident. 3.Through a reading recently I've been told that I have connections to the druid druidic Celtic Nordic ancestral. I had a major obsession with Princesses and castle/palaces an actually figured out that I'm obsessed with what you call the "Gothic architecture"- ornate, filligree , molding.) Ever since I was little I was obsessed with the doors of churches and the door knockers and every little thing that had to do with that kind of stuff. It's interesting that there are crows in a lot of Nordic mythology. 4. In keeping up with this obsession, my favorite movie is Sleeping Beauty and I really always wanted a crow like Maleficent that sat on her shoulder and would fly on her finger to which in my 18th year I purchased a lovebird and he was my best friend for 20 years. 5. Playing in my parents pool one day in the summer on a flotation, a wild Sparrow landed right on my chest. I felt the air in my face as the wings were beating and as I looked up he just plopped onto my chest for a quick moment and then flew away. 6.most recently I walked outside to my car after I had been doing a lot of this spiritual counseling after the trauma in my life lately, and I walked out to my car and 123 crows in unison one after the other flew to a tree right in front of me I feel like I'm reading into things but this just seems like too much to be a coincidence does anyone have any idea what the heck is happening mainly about my premonition and the crow.rShow less

So... personally, while I do see congruencies with The Morrigan (specifically Babd, as She can be considered the aspect governing death with the harbinger of crows) there's also some things I see coinciding with Odin. Odin is followed by two crows (or ravens, according to some resources I've read), and has the power of seeing the past, present, and future. You said you've had premonitions, and they've come true. While Odin is a deity I have always felt a curiosity towards, I can't say I've ever had a connection to Him. So I'm definitely not the person to ask about Odin, in regards to the lessons He teaches. I do feel that He honors all battles (physical and mental) as valid reasons to be accepted into His halls, but that's my own research and feeling. So take that with a grain of salt.

Now, you've also stated a love for birds in general, and an affinity with them. I can't say this is definitely a Morrigan gift, but it is a gift. If I was going to tie a connection to it, I would lean toward the aspect of Macha. Macha is connected to nature in Her own ways. However, respect and love of nature also (in my experience) seems to grow naturally within decent human beings, whether they consider themselves witches or not. While an "obsession" with princesses and gothic architecture, castles and old buildings... while these things could have a connection to you via something like ancestry, it could also simply be that this is who you are and there's no one thing to blame.

Also, as a side note, I adore Maleficent too. But like many villains, I also believe she is a misunderstood character. Cemeteries are beautiful places, and hold a special kind of peace in their space. These are valid loves, but having them doesn't mean they have to be associated with anything. Past lives don't always have to be ruling factors on what pulls us in various directions, though there's always the possibility they could have a small driving force. They could also just be you, and that's just as powerful - to know who you are and what you love, without needing a reason of why. You just do. And that's okay.

I can't tell you "yes, this is definitely the answer," or "yes, these are absolute evidence of [insert deity here] having influence of your life." In my experience, coincidences are absolutely everywhere. Only your intuition, that soul-deep knowledge that this is this (aka your faith and beliefs) can discern what is coincidence and what is your truth. One of our human faults is trying to understand the whys and hows, "over-analyzing" to discover the truth that makes the most sense. The best advice I can give you is to pay attention to where your gut tells you to go. If you feel called by The Morrigan, want to learn more of Her and how She can help to guide you in whatever journey you hope to take, then sit and try to speak with Her. If Odin interests you, call out to see if you receive an answer. If Cernunnos (a deity of life and death, the inbetween, forests and nature in creation and decay) tickles your mind... call to HIm.

I personally have not experienced ill from expressing interest in speaking with deities. If, in the end, They offer a sort of completeness to your journey and they want to stick around for a while - there might be a lesson they have to teach you about yourself. Freyja has taught me how to love myself even when it is a struggle to do so, and Fenrir has taught me to use certain emotions to push me forward rather than allowing them to hold me back. Cernunnos has nourished my love of nature and life, and given me a renewed respect for death and stagnation as a part of existence. Jormungandr has helped me in shedding the pieces of myself I didn't enjoy, to become someone I truly am proud to be - and that change and learning is ever constant. The Morrigan was with me through it all, teaching me these same lessons - but as humans we sometimes need new perspectives in order to realize the answers have been in front of us all along. From what I can tell, Mama has found it to be one my more "endearing" traits.

I'm not sure if any of this is of any help to you, or if I touched on all of the points I needed to, but I do hope you were able to receive some sort of message from it all. If you have any questions, curiosities, or want to bounce any ideas around my messages are always open. I don't share a whole lot of personal experiences or insights on my page, but I'm always happy to discuss them. Just keep in mind they're my own experiences and revelations, and not all of them might resonate with you. And that's okay, too.

#answers

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sparrowsartistry · 10 months

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In Myth, Legend, Prophecy, Art, & Poem, it has long been told, that - "As long as the Sparrows Fly" - This World will never Fall ♱♱♱

"After blessing the bread, a raven flew in the window, picked up the bread, and flew off with it. At this time, St. Benedict left the monastery to return to his cave in Subiaco." (The Life of St. Benedict By Gregory The Great)

#Raven #Ravens #Sparrow #Sparrows #Odin #Wotan #WotansLaw #Tyr #Baldur #Thor #Frey #Freya #Blackbird #Crow #Fly

#Mountains #Forests #Rivers #Deserts

Walking by Faith Forever 🙏📿🕊

#Monk #Monastic #Monastery #Faith #Christian #Monk

#SaintBenedict #JesusChrist

#SparrowsArtistry

#SparrowsArtistryX

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jerek · 1 year

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good lord this one's a beast. heimdall oc/canon 3

Nothing had come of the incident with the raven. Except that Heimdall didn’t sleep so easy. He’d thought he had sharp ears before, but now… now, he could hear a sparrow’s wing-beats in Midgard.

One question he’d been asked a few nights ago was still rattling around inside of him: do you read memories?

He didn’t think he could. The closest he came was piecing together what happened to someone based on who they were now: he’d never outright seen an event in someone’s past. Of course, she who’d asked this question was so nondescript as to render the answer irrelevant.

He fancied the idea of reaching further with his foresight, though. Beyond momentary attacks. Beyond intent or strategy, even. The All-Father had him there, he would admit.

No, he was not particularly upset that he didn’t know where Midha came from. If anything, he wondered where she was headed. A solid plan was out of the question. If any decision was made, it would be made for her.

Their latest meeting was at the far cliff, far from the Lodge. On a low outcrop, half-shrouded in mist, one could make out a silhouette.

“You,” he said, “are going to get yourself killed.” He offered a hand, which Midha watched for a moment before taking. “I hope you’re ready for that.”

She stood. She felt even lighter than the boy… hell, she looked lighter than the boy, with all the advantage of height she had.

He sighed. “Am I talking to myself? Exactly what are you doing in broad daylight– where the All-Father can see?”

“Has he seen me yet?”

Heimdall snickered. “You’re funny. Almost as funny in the tongue as you are in the skull.” He walked in a slow circle around Midha, once again taking stock. Wasn’t too often he got to compare Aesir with mortals… and visually, when she was standing still, there was nothing to suggest she couldn’t be immortal.

He liked being behind people. Just off to their side. From that position, he put a hand on her back and looked out into the sea of clouds.

And once again, he had to break the silence. He gave her a little smack on the tailbone: “Lighten up a little!” He paused and added, “No offense.”

For a second, it looked like she might truly be offended by that. And then she smiled.

It was better than being a God. He grit his teeth inside a closed mouth. She asked him: “I guess I’m alright, then?”

“Odin hasn’t mentioned you, no. He’s forgiven mischief far worse… but I’m his most reliable. The worst I’ve ever done is see his ideas through after he forgot he came up with them.”

She made a little noise of acknowledgement. She was… quite unbothered, and it didn’t make sense. No reaction, no anger– he barely knew when she was confused, and only because she wasn’t the type to pretend she wasn’t.

“How come,” he asked now, “you know so many specifics about me, and I only know the broad strokes about you?” He turned to face her, and squared her shoulders to make her face him. “Don’t you think I’d like to hear specifics?”

“I don’t know that you’d believe me.”

There was that cold again. “Judging is my job.” He let his own offense roll over him, almost tickle him, and he let out a single breath’s worth of laughter. “In Asgard, everyone has a role. Your role is to appear to me, to nobody else, and to tell me all the things you won’t tell anyone else! Now…”

He put a thumb to the padding of her lower lip. “Use this mouth of yours. Start with… I don’t know. What’s the last thing you killed?”

She sank deep into thought. Possibilities flashed in her eyes: spectacular tales, all of them recollections of real events. “I’m waiting,” he reminded her.

“A manifestation of N’zoth.”

“Ah. And what would N’zoth be?”

Again, she was thinking of how to explain it. Eventually, though, she settled on this: “One of the first gods on Azeroth. It was… corruption embodied. Parts of it would manifest, and I was sent to cut them down.”

“So she’s a mercenary.” He curled his finger and thumb under her chin. “A living weapon.”

“I’m the part of my employer that does what the rest of him can’t.”

“Who’s the employer?”

She blinked at him. He could tell she was pondering whether or not to tell him. The walls of Asgard repeated around the secret. Don’t tell him, he could–

“Wrathion.”

Heimdall grinned. “Who?”

“Wrathion. A dragon in human form. There isn’t enough time in the day for him to do all the things he needs to do.”

He stroked his own chin, too. He’d have to take better care of his stubble. “It’s a shame you have no will of your own. Poor, boring little wallflower. All the freedom you’ve felt and you waste it living other people’s lives for them.”

Whatever they ate back there, she still had a stash. He could smell it on her breath as he leaned in. Almost like apples… but not quite.

“What is it like? Back on Azeroth?”

Midha watched the cloud-sea ripple. She recalled aloud… “People die as fast as they’re born. They’re born as fast as they die. Every culture is built on the assumption that half or more of us are willing to fight for our living, and so… it enforces itself.”

“That doesn’t sound too unfamiliar,” he said.

“I guess not.”

He tilted his head. “You’re a random, mortal woman. You are… far beyond the reach of any eye or ear of your homeland. And you’re still thinking of doing someone else’s bidding. Why? Why not run away for good?”

A bird chirped somewhere in the distance. All the reasons were swimming around in her head again.

“You know: if you don’t answer me, I might…” He looked at his hand, and watched his fingers walk back up to her lip. “I might just reach in and get those answers myself.”

“To prove not everyone ends up like me.”

Heimdall blinked. “Very noble. It must be awful there, then, but I suppose someone has to get their hands dirty.” He almost turned away then and there: leave her with her thoughts, he surmised, so she might be as hungry for his voice as…

“But you could have been a little more descriptive.” His hand clenched around the sides of her mouth. Her lips splayed in a fishlike pout.

He lunged forward and thumped her head on the stone behind them. He shut his eyes to her, holding her wrists, even as they slid up and down on the rock. Fight, he urged her. Kick like a rabbit.

His mouth ached with how she pressed her teeth. He only let up enough to ask, still halfway down her throat: “What’s that on your breath?”

Some type of fruit, definitely. Rich and dark and dry, but sober. Mortal. Mortal women, at least this one, were decadent: like the cream the cat got.

He wedged his hand between their two faces and pinched her nose. His shoulder pinned her other arm. Their strange dance spun the both of them almost all the way around. It was difficult to dodge like this, when the object was to remain in physical contact, but they ended up roughly where they were before, her skull to the rock, his elbow jabbed into her own, their opposite hands holding above their heads.

She tried to speak. She couldn’t, of course. But somewhere in that muffled, strangled sound, one she had to repeat twice for him to get it, there were two syllables. Heimdall.

His laugh was almost involuntary. He let her breathe: he pulled out and furrowed his eyebrows at the spit-bridge between them.

“It would be so easy.” He wiped his mouth. “Tell Odin myself. Better yet, summon the armies of Asgard down on whatever rift you crawled out of. After all, Midha, I am the watchman. I… am the…”

Heimdall brought his hand to his cheek. There was a tremor in his hand. His cheek was burning. Down his chest, his heart was backflipping, and his gut was twisting. He could read his own intentions too, see himself for what he was.

“Watchman,” he concluded. He stared at her for a long while, but really he was looking backward. Inward. What for, he didn’t know, because whatever it was: he couldn’t find it. Eventually, he had to live in the moment again, and when he focused on her it was as if he’d never seen her before in his life.

Regardless, he crossed his arms and rested his forehead on hers. “Think I should quit while I’m ahead?”

No answer. No thoughts to read. She might as well be his right hand.

He sighed. “You really don’t care whether you live or die, do you?” With a little too much of a shove, he turned away and began to climb back up. “If you don’t hear from me, you’ll hear from the All-Father.”

He had to tell him. Today. Before he found a reason to put it off.

#gow heimdall #midfic

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nimblermortal · 1 year

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Yngling Death Battle: Semifinals

I managed to get a tie again. Fortunately, Marvel owes me damages for ten years of crowding the Norse tag with fic that doesn't go there.

R-R-R-RECAP!

Aun didn't feel like twenty year was enough ruling time, so he sacrificed his son to Odin to live longer. And then he did it again. And again. And again. And a- eventually he was bedridden and had to have his meals poured into his mouth through a horn, so who knows where he was getting the sons at this point, but his own people decided they were cutting him off like a bartender at 2 AM, and he finally died in bed.

Alrek and Eirik were horse girls who went out riding and apparently had some sort of disagreement, because their bodies were found bludgeoned to death. The only blunt instruments in the neighborhood were the bits on their bridles, so history's best guess is that they beat each other to death with them.* The only remaining mystery: how?

Dag had a pet sparrow that brought him news from across the world, until one day, an evil farmer killed his sparrow just because it was eating his seeds. Dag laid waste to the entire country in vengeance, but as he was turning away from a job well done, a slave threw a pitchfork at him and it speared him in the head.

*As opposed to being beaten by a third party, or riding into a valley known for its large and sudden hailstorms.

#icy sagas #Yngling Death Battle #mcu #marvel #avengers #I'm probably biasing the results based on what large fandom I more-or-less randomly tag in hopes of NOT A TIE THIS TIME

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immortaltricksters · 10 months

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Remember the time Jack refered to the King of England as “Your Heinie”. Yeah, he would totally say that to Odin too. He has no care for royalty at the best of times, even less for the guy who gave his spouse an identity crisis and mental breakdown.

#Loki #Captain Jack Sparrow #Odin #Marvel #POTC #loki x jack sparrow

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beckmessering · 2 years

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not too brief thoughts on the zurich rheingold (2022)

in short: this was entertaining af.

in long:

- zurich is a very smol opera house! the decor is adorable.

- acoustics are something to get used to. they’re quite...dry? as in, you can keep apart the different orchestral melodic lines with relative ease. but the sounds does punch you in the face if desired by gianandrea noseda.

- speaking of: noseda’s conducting is very good. pretty snappy and fast, absolutely no dragging here, but he’s also not rushing the singers.

- THEY DID NOT USE A GLOCKENSPIEL FOR THE DESCENT INTO NIBELHEIM, THANK ODIN

- the production is Very Zurich. stage: minimalist, acting: maximalist. i elaborate:

- zurich’s stage is relatively small and they use is wisely. the whole set is a rotating circus of three white rooms in which characters are occasionally left along to have private conversations. that’s very convenient for these often slightly unwieldy dialogue scenes in rheingold where three characters are talking and the rest is just...sitting there, listening to them talk?!? nope, the talking people wander into another room to chat. adds a nice element of privacy.

- IT LOOKS LIKE THE CENTENARY RING. it’s been said before and i can confirm. it’s like someone threw centenary rheingold and centenary walküre into a pot and gave it a good stir. it’s very obvious with wotan’s suit, the dark furniture, the general vibe of the gods being upper-class capitalists that aspire to even more and make other people of slightly lower social standing (the giants, wearing neat but simpler clothes and feathered hats) work for them.

- the resemblance is purely aesthetic, though. it doesn’t have that same specific thought behind it. the closest i can get to deciphering where this will go is that it might be like an epic saga about the rise and decline of a family, which is...pretty close to what a Ring is. not very specific and not that modern, but not really traditional either.

- the acting is MAXIMALIST in that there is not a single fcking second of boredom onstage. everyone is in character, doing something, all the time. we love it

- this might be a Ring i’ve been waiting for for a long time: i’ve always wanted one that gives the difficult and multifaceted relationship in the Ring a very thorough look, and i don’t care how Regie it is otherwise, but i want a 21st-century ring that looks at the relationships in very thorough depth.

- they do use a few stage tricks to great effect. loge burns things and people. a large closet/wardrobe apparently has magical properties. much smoke in nibelheim

- (nibelheim is a nightmare version of the villa the gods live in: creepy lighting, burnt-looking furniture, a wardrobe with the potential to transform people (alberich) into a dragon, and alberich himself with a whip that he is quite fond of using.)

- about that wardrobe in the third scene: the dragon is OUT OF the closet, i repeat the dragon is OUT OF the closet, but the toad is IN THE CLOSET (and then they drag alberich out of the closet)

- overall fantastical vibe is there. i like it. kind of like a dark, old-fashioned fairytale book that’s both fantastic and a little gruesome and spills right into the ‘real world’.

- the singers! the singers!!!

- christopher purves is a classic howling-and-spitting alberich, but to great effect. he initially comes through the window dressed like a chimney sweep to clumsily flirt with bourgeois-looking rhinemaidens in satin pyjamas and gets worse from there. his phrasing is SO detailed! makes me think he understands every single word of what he’s singing, and he has zero accent when he sings, and that is a BIG achievement because alberich is tricky shit and purves is english and you absolutely can’t tell. (i hope this doesn’t sound weird. i’ve just noticed that with many native-english singers, german is particularly hard and tiny lapses in diction can happen even for the best. but no. this man does not lapse. 10/10)

- matthias klink’s loge is a decently drunk jack sparrow variant. i don’t find his voice very pretty and that’s a compliment because he’s a charaktertenor af, and he’s very lively in his drunk mannerisms and occasionally sings straight to the audience (the lights turn on whenever he does??!?)

- the ladies don’t have that much to do but do well. fricka (patricia barton, debut, i think) tries to reign in her husband, to...modest success. freia is pissed as FUCK at her family and doesn’t want to go back to them. “Dünkt euch Holda wirklich der Lösung wert?” was some sarcastic shit. we stan

- tomasz konieczny is fantastic. i feel a new favourite wotan incoming...first of all, he can be LOUD if he wishes, and his phrasing <3 detailed, thoughtful, varied, very fun to listen for the next sentence. (tbh i’m not surprised by that bc i knew of that before - his farewell in walküre is the only one to make me cry on the regular bc its so emotional :,) ) he has a bit of a weird voice for wotan, very much a matter of taste because it has this strong dark undertone but i looooove it. he also has exactly what you need for a character who is essentially a scheming liar 24/7: an apparent jovial manner that absolutely hates when people talk back to him, but more than that, a very cold, menacing streak beneath that just wants people to fucking do as i say or else. koniezcny definitely knows he’s singing a villain. tl;dr abt this guy: i CANNOT WAIT for walküre, i think he’ll rip my heart out

- overall, 9.5/10. had to get used to the acoustics a lil bit, a few people forgot their text (fafner and alberich). WILDLY entertaining, musically first-class, character portrayals were very clever and promising! tangible absolute dedication from everyone!! i stan this

#opera #opera review #scrambled review #das rheingold #Der Ring Des Nibelungen #ring cycle #richard wagner #zurich

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ren-c-leyn · 2 years

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Happy STS, Ren

What is a scenario, symbol or idea you never get tired of using? Something that you include in every single wip and why?

~ Leia

Happy STS, Leia, sorry about the delay in answering this. I did get the question the first time but it was really late and I was too tired to really answer it because there was a lot for me to talk about and I couldn't remember the names of half of it XD

I never get tired of playing with stories that revolve around Fate and explore what different people may do when confronted with it. The Plight of a Sparrow is one of these stories, though it doesn't really show it's hand until later in the series. The Firewalker is also a sort of variation of this concept. I've also done a number of short stories here on tumblr that revolve around different people and their different approaches to facing what they know is to be their fate. Some of them fight and kick and scream til the end, some of them face it with a grim acceptance, and then there are those who laugh in it's face.

I don't know why why, specifically, I love playing with the concept of Fate so much. The idea that your destiny is set in stone long before you ever drew breath and how it and freewill are always snarling at each other. Maybe it's rooted in my love of mythology, my love of stories like the norse pantheon whose end came from Odin trying to stop the end from coming. My love of greek tragedies where doing the opposite of your nature to try and outrun your destiny led straight too it. The fall of Camelot coming from Merlin and Arthur committing a horrible atrocity to save their kingdom from the end. But I also love the idea of looking Fate in the eye at that final moment, and saying no. Of laughing at it as you take a step back away from what had been planned for you, of defeating it instead of bowing down to it.

Writing this out makes me want to go write another story about Fate XD

Found families are another one I love dearly. A bunch of lost people finding each other and building a sort of home for all of them out of their friendship. It's something beautiful that's always spoken to me, even when I was a kid. It's made it into most of my WIPs and even some of the short stories I wrote here on tumblr.

I never get tired of dragons or elves, though maybe it's because they're all a little different in each and every one of my projects. Or maybe it goes back to my love of mythology. You have no idea how many times little child me begged my mother to tell me another dragon story. And now that I'm writer, I can tell myself all of the dragon stories I want :D

I also love worlds that are so old that there's ruins of the civilizations that died out long before the story even started. Worlds with history so long and vast no one knows most it anymore. Ruins and lost civilizations are absolutely tragic, but also so incredibly fascinating to me. There was someone there, you know? Someone had an entire life before your civilization even came to be and now all we have of them is the ruins of their house. It's also something that can be very interesting in fantasy settings ^^

There's not really specific scenarios I reuse a lot. Every WIP and character set are unique so the situations they all get themselves into tend to be really varied and different. As for symbolism, I don't know? It's not something I usually do on purpose.

Thanks for stopping in, I hope you have a nice day/evening.

#sts

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acciotherapists · 6 months

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Little Sparrow Chapter 6

Loki x Reader Mafia AU

Warnings: Odin, some physical abuse

Loki returned to the group, his hand still holding mine as he took the gun from Syf, thanking her.

“I don’t want to see you on our territory again.”

Tony scoffed. “And I don’t want to see you with my sister. So I guess we both aren’t getting what we want.”

“Just leave, Tony!” I hissed. “Shouldn’t you be talking with your old pal, Seth?”

“He’s a good man, Y/n. He could treat you far better than this idiot.”

“You may not want to insult the guy holding a gun to your head, Tony,” I replied, causing Loki to laugh under his breath. “Just leave, Tony. I don’t want to see you.”

Tony sighed as I turned to Loki. He hugged me with one arm, making sure to keep the gun pointed at Tony. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I looked up at him.

“Get us out of here… please,” I begged him as tears filled my eyes.

He smiled softly. “Of course, love. I’ve got you.” He looked at Tony. “You have until I count to five to be out of this building.”

Tony’s eyes widened.

“One!”

They quickly tossed some cash on the table for the coffee.

“Two!”

They grabbed their coats.

“Three!”

The door slammed shut and they were gone. I breathed a sigh of relief as Loki put the gun down, tucking it into his waistband.

“You alright?”

I nodded as he held my face, searching my face, though for what I wasn’t entirely sure. When he seemed satisfied with what he saw he pulled me closer and pressed his lips to mine, soft at first soft at first but slowly growing rougher by the second.

“We need to talk,” he murmured against my lips. “I want the truth when we get home.”

I nodded and we waited a few minutes before making our way out of the cafe, having Syf stay with me as Loki made sure the coast was clear, despite my protests.

They were gone.

***

The three Avengers quickly made their way to a waiting car. As they climbed inside Tony turned to Natasha. “Did you do it?”

She nodded. “The tracker’s on the inside of her jacket. It’ll lead us back to their base.”

Chapter

When we returned to the base I tossed my jacket on a chair in our room as Loki shut the door behind us.

“You sure you’re alright?”

I nodded and he moved his hand to my cheek, gently brushing the skin with his thumb.

“You gonna tell me who Seth is?”

I sighed, pulling away from him and walking toward the window. Loki doesn’t seem phased as he moves behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “I don’t want to do this right now, Loki.” I knew this conversation was unavoidable but I didn’t want it to happen so soon.

“Y/n, please… just talk to me.”

I watched as a rabbit greedily stuffed blades of grass into its tiny mouth outside the window and I smiled at the sight.

“I’m sure you can figure it out, Laufeyson. You’re a smart man.” The rabbit seemed disturbed by something in the distance and scurried away.

“I want to hear it from you.”

I sigh, turning to face him. “We’re engaged. Is that what you want to hear?” I hissed. “Tony set up the arrangement and didn’t give me a choice. An Asgardian had been spotted near the border and crossed into our territory. Seth and I were sent to see who it was and remove them. He ambushed us and Seth ran. Your guy dragged me into Asgardian territory… and well… you know the rest.”

“He just left you? He was supposed to be your husband… and he left you?”

I scoffed. “Get used to it, Laufeyson. Everyone leaves.”

I tried to walk away but he stopped me. “I know that feeling all too well but you… you should never know that feeling.” He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “You will never know that feeling again.”

“Dont.”

He seemed confused.

“Don’t say things like that.”

“I mean it…and if I ever see Seth in person… I’ll kill him.”

“Loki…”

He shushed me by pressing his lips against mine, murmuring softly against them. “I’ll kill him… I promise I’ll kill him.” He pressed me against the wall, moving his lips against mine. He kissed me softly for a few moments before pulling away, pressing his forehead against mine.

“Get some rest, little one.” He kissed my forehead and left the room, leaving me alone to get ready for bed.

****

I tossed and turned most of the night, unable to find a comfortable position as my mind swirled with worries. It was unlike Tony to be so calm. Why had they just been sitting there? Why didn’t Tony have his suit? He would’ve brought it if he’d been planning to fight.

What the hell were they planning?

****

I woke the next morning to find Loki gone, though he wasn’t gone for long as the door swung open and Loki entered our shared room bruised and bleeding.

“What the hell happened?” I yelled, rushing over to him, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

“I got word that Bruce was seen outside. It was an ambush. Banner, Romanov, and the little witch were waiting for me.”

“They were here? How?”

“I don’t know but they didn’t get far.” He chuckled but quickly stopped, hissing in pain.

“You need a doctor.”

He chuckled. “Don’t fret, little one. It’s just a couple of broken ribs and they’ll heal soon enough. I’m Asgardian, remember?”

I rolled my eyes. “Bruce, Nat, and Wanda did this to you?”

He chuckled. “Your little friends pack quite a punch.”

“Why would they do this?”

“Still so innocent… even after all these years,” he muttered.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked as he flopped onto his bed.

“Nothing, little one… Nothing.”

I sat on the bed next to him. “Can you at least let me see?”

“You just want to see with my shirt off, huh?”

“Would you shut up and be serious for once?”

He rolled his eyes but lifted his shirt, revealing his torso, littered with purple bruises.

“I’m going to kill them,” I muttered.

He looked up, his eyes locking with mine. “Why?”

“Aren’t girlfriends supposed to protect their boyfriends?” I answered playfully.

“In theory, though that was never usually the case for any of my girlfriends.”

“Their loss,” I replied as my finger gently traced the edges of a bruise. He hissed and I quickly apologized, removing my hand, but he stopped me, returning my hand to his chest.

“It’s alright, little dove. You didn’t hurt me.”

I titled my head curiously, watching as the bruises slowly disappeared. He lifted his hand, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

The door suddenly burst open and Odin entered. “What the hell is this?” he growled. “Stop being weak, boy. Get up! We have work to do!”

“He’s hurt, you asshole!” I yelled, standing from the bed as Odin approached, towering over me.

“Step aside.”

“Go to hell.”

There was a loud slap and I hit the ground hard, my cheek stinging from the impact. I looked up, finding Odin standing over me before Loki jumped in front of his father.

“That’s enough!” Loki shouted, pushing hard against his father’s chest.

“So, we’re doing this again, are we son?” Odin laughed bitterly. “You remember what happened the last time?”

“Shut your mouth!”

“Loki, what is he talking about?”

“Get out!” Loki shouted at his father.

“I’m tired of you defending that little bitch and choosing her over this family!” Odin raised his hand to Loki and I could feel my anger rising. I picked myself up off the ground and grabbed Odin’s wrist, shoving him away from Loki.

Odin laughed. “Need a little girl to fight your battles for you?”

He raised his other hand and wrapped it around my throat, lifting me off the ground.

“Father, stop!” Loki yelled as I clutched at Odin’s wrist, fighting to breathe. He suddenly threw me backward and my head collided with the metal bed frame before everything went black.

*******

Taglist: @honeyrydernot @evelyn-kingsley

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x y/n #loki friggason #lokixreader #loki of asgard #marvel #marvel mcu #loki odinson #avengers #mafia au #marvel au #marvel fanfic #marvel x reader #avengers x reader

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