#but I had pagan veiling in mind

[entinullbutno]

I’m bored at work

[awen-born]

My Experience With A Death Goddess

Blessed Be

🐦‍⬛

I want to start with letting you all know that if you have personal experiences with Hel I’d love to hear it! Is she scary to you? Loving like with me? I’m so curious what everyone’s experience is!

🍂🌒🌕🌘🍁

So i started deity work early. It began with Sekhmet. She’s since stepped away, since I don’t need her guidance and protection anymore since I’ve boosted my spiritual team. Or at least that’s my theory!

Black dogs (and dogs in general) had become a sign to me due to some strange experiences. At first I thought Hecate but it didn’t click with her. But Hel? Absolutely. The moment I began with her it clicked just right. I made an alter and did lots of research. Quickly falling in deeper and I’m more of a devotee now to her.

So I began worshipping her. It began with veiling. I’d felt called to do it in general and really love it. And now it’s become something I do for her. I’ve also got a wolf pendant, however I wear this for both her and Ares (who I’ll discuss in another post).

She’s quite serene and almost motherly to me. Though her presence is still cold in a way. I have a lot of trauma and I feel working with her has helped. Her presence in my life has comforted me many a time.

Honestly, I was a bit freaked out. A death goddess seemed so intense to my fresh out of Christianity self. But honestly being basically a devotee to her right now, has vastly improved my life. Her presence is wonderful. Almost like she holds my hand as I process the dark traumas in my past.

This is meant to ease minds if one is afraid of her and just share my experience. I’m by no means an expert. I just want to share my journey as a pagan witch!

[rev-wrath]

Dropping by your inbox to ramble about my OCs (cause, the tag function lets me somewhat keep track of what I've written about them when I rb this from you) bc they're my blorbos that not many people know about.

So, as I've said before, it's a story mainly revolving around a god (Ares), a human (Genesis), and an angel (Samzaya). Basically, Gen moves to live her life as a lighthouse keeper (even though the job is mostly done by machines in modern times. but divine intervention pulled her there) and on her first night, a terrible storm brings Ares and Samzaya into her 'new' home. Somehow, neither of them can leave.

Originally, I imagined Ares to show his face from the very beginning, but looking at lore/myths, I figured it would be better if his face was hidden. By a motorbike helmet or a veil of a kind (to shove in the fact that he's not human). Samzaya's an angel who has watched humanity from afar, but never interacted or was close to them. They're a type of angel called a Watcher and those types of angels were the first to fall in love with humans and produce nephilims. They don't know shit about humans, and Gen + Ares (the most human god, as I like to call him) have to teach them how to act around humans ('don't go in all divine light ablaze, don't talk in that staticky way, etc')

Gen is... She's human. But she's also kind of not? Her mother was a Korean shaman and her father Catholic priest but before he officially became one. But she's also blessed by Diwonuso (which really shouldn't happen, and it's related to the apocalypse)

As said, the first half of the story line I have for the trio is them developing a relationship with each other, and the other half is around the mish mash of pantheons forcing hunters/exorcists/deities from different beliefs banding together to stop the angels and demons from making their own pantheon the sole one in the world.

Oh yeah, the three of them also drop into Tartarus at one point, and this results in trauma for everyone!

Have some snippets (+ some random footnotes and comments) of a WIP I was working on like three months ago.

“Not really.” Her voice sounded off to her own ears. Maybe she was dissociating a little bit. “My family’s religion is Buddhism.” “Thou dost not feel of the essence of Buddha.” She flinched at the trilling, high pitched sound coming from the incomprehensible entity’s general area as well as the sensation of their words being slammed into her mind instead of her ears. “For the love of Hades- put on a form that wouldn’t hurt the mortal’s fragile body-” the man said a word that she didn’t quite understand. But she could tell that it was an insult from the way the man’s lips curled and the way he all but spat out the last word. The incomprehensible entity seemed to turn their gaze directly to where the man was sitting. “Watch thy tongue, pagan god, lest I deem it fit to rip it from thine mouth-”

The Fates were bullshit, and Ares[1] could not care less about the children of Nyx. He hated the fact that he was all but thrown into the middle of his uncle Poseidon’s domain. He hated that he was all but fished out of the ocean by the mortal and the angel. And he hated that out of all his fellow Olympians, he was the most intimately intertwined with the mortals. Not Aphrodite. Not Hestia. Not his mother or his father. Him. Maybe Dionysus[SK1] . But his half-brother was of mortal origin, so he didn’t really count. He was Ares, God of War. He had died a thousand deaths with the soldiers on the field. He will die a thousand more. Unlike Athena, who strategized and commanded, only fighting with mortals when she deemed it needed, he had always been there. Had felt spears and arrows and bullets pierce and end the lives of soldiers. Out of all the Olympians, his ichor was the most mingled with red. The moment the angel unleashed their warning, he was shrugging off the towel- it was in Athena’s colour- and he was lunging for the mortal who had been surprisingly unperturbed in the presence of a god and a servant of ‘the Lord’. He covered the mortal’s ears with his hands, and he couldn’t help but pause momentarily when he felt how soft she was. He had forgotten how soft mortals were. Had forgotten how fragile their body and soul was. [1]Epithet to note; Ares Gynaecothoenas, the god feasted by women. The women of Tegea in Arcadia defeated the invading Spartans to defend their city, capturing the Spartan king whilst they were at it. Whilst the depiction didn’t show Ares’ involvement and seems to focus on the ability that Marpessa showed to take initiative. The women later partook in a feast that only women were invited + to honour Ares. And babe, he was literally the patron god of the Amazons.  [SK1]Do I want him to be Zagreus too? He’s also Diwonuso… A god that was once mortal is such a tasty idea, no matter how many times I’ve seen it done. Maybe Gen could mimic it to a degree? She could be the immortal cursed with mortality… Cursed to reincarnate over and over and over again?

Have I told you lately you’re cool? Because you are. I love this so much. Absolute patchwork relationship with three different beings from three different backgrounds. The absolute care Ares has for Gen? Oh, I love it. Samzaya’s a “I am so far removed from humanity, I know much and so little at the same time” which is fantastic. I love them already and look forward to hearing what the fuck their apocalypse is all about.

[midwestbramble]

The Three Souls

Many witchcraft and pagan traditions have a conception of multiple souls. Understanding these ideas can help in your understanding of why we are able to do things we normally couldn’t in soul flight. Plus having a background knowledge if you want to look deeper, beyond my posts, knowing what these mean will help in your comprehension of more “advanced” texts.

⛧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⛧

Contents:

Historical Beliefs

Middle Soul

Fetch

Upper Soul

Conclusion

⛧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⛧

Historical Beliefs

According to Claude Lecouteux, professor of medieval literature and civilization at the Sorbonne, in his book "Witches, Werewolves and Fairies," there has long been a belief in a tri-part soul in northern Europe. Medieval Scandinavia and Germany had three names for different aspects of the human soul: Fylgja, Hugr, and Hamr. Thou he explains in that book as well as his book "The Return of the Dead," that "soul" is not a perfection translation for these three concepts. Even further back we see Plato's theory of the tripartite soul. He believed that every person had different amounts of each soul within them: reason, spirit, and appetite.

The 1600s saw a boom in the curiosity of the body. Doctor's who were just beginning to understand the human body, through rather morbid means, were beginning to link the soul to the brain; leaping off of classical ideas of the soul such as Plato's. Here we see the soul divided into three parts again: the rational soul, the sensible soul, and vegetal soul.

The triple soul, as a concept, has a long and varied history. It continues today as a concept in witchcraft traditions as well as a few religions.

⛧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⛧

Fetch

The fetch is also known as the lower soul. Generally it’s thought to be our survival instincts and the part of us that connects more easily to children and animals. This is the part of the soul that is thought to leave a witch’s body and travel the worlds. It’s also known as a double as there is a history of people seeing a person in one place (their fetch) and the actual person in another around the same time. Also thought to be döpplegangers.

⛧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⛧

Upper Soul

This part of the soul is thought to be connected to divinity, if you believe in that. Mat Auryn, in his book “Psychic Witch,” postulates that this part of the soul comes from a mix of past lives (why so many people can claim to have been Cleopatra in a past life). It’s this part of the soul that receives divine messages, that the lower soul then transcribes into symbols and messages that the middle soul can more easily understand.

⛧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⛧

Middle Soul

This part of the soul is reading this post. Meta. This is the part of you that talks, walks, tastes, smells, feels, and creates magic. It’s a mix of the upper and lower souls and uses the other two to interpret life and meaning. This is the part of you that’s deciding if this post is full of shit or not. This is you.

⛧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───⛧

Conclusion

Technically, all three are you. In much of the folklore surrounding soul flight, the witch can be alive and breathing, sleeping soundly in bed, and still be off galavanting at the devils sacrament. So how are witches able to separate one of the souls and continue on living? Stay tuned and I will explain in another post.

Images:

Title image made on Canva

References:

Witches, Werewolves, and Fairies: Shapeshifters and Astral Doubles in the Middle Ages by Claude Lecouteux

The Return of the Dead: Ghosts, Ancestors, and the Transparent Veil of the Pagan Mind by Claude Lecouteux

Ancient Theories of the Soul

The Tripartite Theory of the Soul

Method in the Madness exhibit: The Three Souls

[thehistoriangirl]

The Tides Have Veiled [Nine]

This chapter is calmer than last one,

Or is it?

Viktor x Fem!Reader---Gothic AU: Spooky Sea---2.3K--SFW

> MASTERLIST <- Previous // Next ->

Synopsis:  Piltover the Old has an old lighthouse that looms over an abandoned port. From the house in the wailing cliff’s edge, the lighthouse owner watches that the beacon is being lighten up each time darkness arrives, so that monsters wouldn't dare to crawl inland, or so legends say. Both buildings are haunted, maybe even the man himself, by both past and present ghosts. Surprisingly, the keeper’s work is beyond turning on the beacon every night— but the rest is on you to discover.

Chapter Summary: Upon your return to Piltover the Old, you discover that the strange happenings aren't only bound to you, but to the whole town...

Tags: Strangers to Lovers | Ghosts | Mermaids/Sirens | Slow Burn | Bonding Time | Forced Proximity | Mystery | Dark Magic | Spooky (?) imaginery |

Taglist: @lunar-monster @bittercyder @local-mr-frog

Nine: Curses Trapped in Whirlpools

The wind near the beach was lighter, the marine breeze stealing all the free space inside your lungs to reclaim you, the sand trying to glue you to become one with it, dragging you to the ground.

“It had rained heavily.” An obvious statement to try to break the tension settled between the two ever since you climbed the carriage on wobbly legs.

The beach soaked, with the sand more like mud, tinted a darker shade of brown. Tiny pools scattered across the coast, all filled with dead specimens, amorph from the tearing tides and the unmerciful wind, and yet, too strange to belong to this world.

Hollow-like eyes, blobs of black substance resembling skin, teeth so sharp for belonging to such a tiny fish.

“Probably a waterspout," Viktor signaled, his skin regaining some color under the evening sun. The tip of his cane poked one dead fish. "These don't belong to the surface."

The lighthouse was still on, the beacon concealed with the sun’s brightness.

"What is that?" Your finger pointed to a strange mass near the cliff's wall. Without thinking, you walked toward it, feet sinking in the sand, chilling your feverish skin.

Viktor called your name, hand extended as if to stop you. But you couldn't see him clearly, looking at the sea swinging lazily, almost taunting for you to get closer to the thing only to snatch it out of your grasp.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

You stopped a couple of meters away, where there was a toppled basket, moss already growing from the vegetal fabric the basket was made of. Inside, there were wet pages of what seemed to be letters, the ink ran over by the water, eating the words away. Photographs of people you had never seen, weddings, funerals.

“What’s this?” you muttered, too scared to bend down and see it closer.

“Memories,” Viktor told you, his hand over your shoulder. “Come on. You’re going to get sick with your feet all soaked.”

“Why do people put them here?” The stone staircase was seeped in water, with you carefully walking behind Viktor, ready to help him in case any of his feet slipped from a step, but he was just as impassible as the lighthouse itself against the wind starting to blow over. “Isn’t it easier to burn them if they wish to get rid of them?”

"They're not trying to dispose of them.” His golden gaze tracked back at you from the corner of his eye, like another lighthouse casting its glow over your wandering mind. “It’s an offering.”

“An offering? I thought all the people here had shifted from pagan beliefs.”

A noncommittal shrug. "You can't get away from the belief when it's rooted in the ground you walk," Viktor commented, the exhibit at the museum coming back to your mind, the image of the lighthouse alongside the legends, the shadowy figure of a monster you didn't want to see. "This was one of the main coastal towns to seek the favors of mermaids, after all."

The sea’s roaring lulled you, eyes drifting over the never-ending blue of sky and water merging. It was a world of their own, so close and far from your grasp at the same time. “Viktor, do you believe in those stories?”

“People do that around fall, praying not to have any major storm hitting the coast.” Viktor walked with a steady pace, his hair shining between honey and copper. "I do not see the harm in amusing people's beliefs, Miss."

Knowing that it would be the best answer you could get out of him, you continued the path ahead.

"How's that I haven't seen one before?" Your breath was getting agitated, and you didn't know if the reason behind the steep climb, or Viktor's story.

“They only put them over the cliff wall, nearer as they can to the maelstrom in front of the cliff.”

You fidgeted with the handle of your suitcase—well, the one Viktor had lent you. “Do you know where the maelstrom leads you?" you asked, biting your lip at listening to how childish that question had sounded.

“’Where?’” Viktor raised an eyebrow.

"Yes! Haven't you heard that story?" you said, excited to tell the knowledgeable man next to you a new piece of information that may serve his research. “That if you fall into a whirlpool, you end up in the mermaid’s realm?”

He chuckled, a wry smile that could outshine the sun. "That's why you shouldn't throw rocks or logs inside them." He rummaged inside his pockets for his keys, and now, you could walk side by side, the house welcoming you like an elongated shadow, with no lights or curtains drawn, all its eyelids closed, as if dormant.

“Or the mermaids will come for you while you’re playing on the beach!” you finished the shared thought, happy to have made him smile, for once.

His eyes twinkled. “Do you think that ghosts can get trapped in the mermaid’s realm if they get caught in the whirlpool, Miss?” Viktor sounded as if he was about to give a dissertation, his voice almost reverential. “Sometimes, I wonder if that’s the reason why the cliff cries.”

The entrance door opened without noise, the bright light outside devoured by the foyer, stains covering your eyelids, black and red with each blink.

You were following Viktor’s white shirt, when suddenly you didn’t see it move anymore, your head bumping into his back.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Your hand flew toward his arm to steady him.

“I’m—It's… it's fine," Viktor muttered, tapping his cane on the floor. One. Two. Three. As if knocking.

You peeked from over his shoulder, feeling the blood pooling down your feet.

“What… what happened here?” you uttered, so quietly that it was a miracle Viktor could hear you over the rapid beat of your heart. The furniture was toppled, pages scattered over the floor, some glasses broken, crunched under Viktor’s unrelenting steps as he scanned the room. “Someone broke in?”

Could it be your family? Trying to coerce you into their will and find you gone?

Anger bloomed inside of you, tensing your jaw, and feeling a pit in your stomach, as if someone had forced you into swallow stones that would only drag you deeper into the current you wished to outrun. One not even the terribly adventurous trip to the city, not even the golden band on your finger could make you float away.

“I’m going to look for them,” you huffed, surprised at how cold your voice sounded. "This is unacceptable. To drag you into this mess…" It���s my fault, your mind echoed, another infuriating truth.

“Wait.” This time, Viktor did hold you by the hand, his fingers brushing your palm and wrist in a motion so light, for a moment you thought you would’ve imagined it. “They weren’t the perpetrators. Or I believe they weren’t.”

Looking up at him, you copied his frown. “Viktor, you don’t have to excuse them…” you started, words getting trapped in your throat at seeing how the light filtered from the entrance to the stairs in a familiar pattern.

Muddy footsteps.

Viktor saw the fear in your widened eyes, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Miss. Go to the lighthouse. I will sort this out."

You grimaced, looking at the house torn to shreds. "I can help you clean—"

"No. It could be dangerous for you." His eyes searched for yours. "Please go to the lighthouse. I promise that everything will be alright."

Opening the rusty doors of the lighthouse felt almost like coming home; the familiar, newly painted walls received you, with the smoky smell of the hearth. Away from that house, for whatever lurked in there.

Shaking your head, you went to the beacon room to check on the electrical panel, finding it only slightly heated from working incessantly for almost three days. The longest Viktor or you could go with having nausea and headaches, hallucinations mixed on top of it, or so you thought, when you woke up in Viktor's bed, with him laying on the couch, the plate where you had put his meds empty.

You couldn’t turn it off, as night was already settling its black blanket over the waves, fog creeping into the surface to blur the limits of the familiar world to turn them into a ghostly landscape.

A chill ran down your spine at remembering the silhouette, white yet solid enough to pierce through the veil and stare right at you, freezing the blood of your veins with its ominous greeting.

Would you see it again? Just as you had seen the mud footprints.

Your teeth nibbled on your thumb’s nail, mind rummaging as to find an explanation.

Someone had broken in, it had to be that—perhaps someone lived inside Viktor’s house, using the owner's usual absence to their advantage. That's why they had appeared in front of your room, as a threat to draw you away.

But… who would dare to live in a seemingly haunted house? Maybe it was the reason behind the strange sensation of someone watching your every step, of all the silences charged with expectations of something breaking it.

Almost as if you could remember it from your days cleaning the house; the gazes from the corner of your eye to double check the hallways, that the creaking wood may not have been the aging house hit by the wind, but rather, a careless step right next door.

That perhaps Viktor was hiding another person from your view if he was distracted enough not to notice such things. Because it must be signs, like objects moving, or disappearing, the footprints, of course, or some noise.

At least you didn’t have to spend more nights there. Little mattered if you were husband and wife, you were only his lighthouse keeper. Occasional friend, at best.

Minutes poured into hours, the sky grey inside that another realm that seemed to be an unfinished sketch, with its sharp edges and grey backgrounds all ornamented with the cliff’s haunting cries, ones that in a twisted way, you had missed.

In the city where everything seemed to be a dream, the cliff’s real screams grounded you in the sick reminder that this was real.

That the muddy footprints were, too.

Your skin got covered in goosebumps, the constant thumping of raindrops against the ceiling drowning any outside noise, except the clear of the entrance door slamming close.

The chair you were sitting on creaked from your jump, feeling your heartbeat thrashing against your ribcage.

By paranoia, you looked back at the beach, where the female-looking apparition was already standing as still as a statue, her bony and deformed hand raised in a greeting.

She turned her head slightly, and the dead algae clung to her remaining black hair covering one of the hollow sockets where her eyes were supposed to go. Instead, from the holes ran putrid blood, almost as black as tar, that the rain couldn’t watch.

Her smile was too wide, showing her too-sharp teeth. And then it clicked in your head. She looked like those strange fishes from the deep sea.

Was she a mermaid?

“Miss.”

You screamed, and Viktor almost fell from the last step of the stairs, his knuckles white from balancing his body on the rail. Miraculously, the thin balustrade was stronger than it looked. “My—are you alright? I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I could frighten you so badly.”

He had an awkward smile on his face, eyebrows knitted in worry.

“Viktor… what are you doing here?” Your question didn’t help to diminish the blush covering his cheeks despite the wet ends of his hair poking around his ears.

“I suppose I couldn’t sleep.” With little, shy steps, he approached the uneven table, sitting atop it while pressing his cane against the ground to balance its legs. “Not after… well,” he sighed.

When you looked at the beach again, it was empty.

“Had it happened before?” Your voice was barely audible over the incessant rain.

His graceful fingers outlined every line of the wood. “A couple of times,” he sighed, the hollows of his face accentuated with the single bulb atop your heads. Viktor looked exhausted. “But never… like this.”

He shrugged. "It's rather a risky strategy to get me out of the house."

You gestured toward him. “Well, it worked today, so,” you said, trying to alleviate his focused frown for some minutes.

Viktor chuckled, his eyes twin to the beacon brightening the night outside. "Julio used to see me napping in the cot when he returned from his duty. He must have forgotten to tell you."

“I don’t mind the company.” You stood up, returning from the panel room with one of your blankets. Viktor smelled like the burned wood of his hearth, to old books and coffee, when your hands brushed his shoulders as you wrapped the blanket around him. “You’re shaking,” you muttered with a smile. “Do you want some tea?”

Viktor was about to nod. “Only if you’re having one, too.”

You felt your stomach lighter, and suddenly, it was very tempting to start playing with your unkept hair. “I will be back.” You could feel his gaze burned on your back as you walked toward the stairs. “Can you keep watch meanwhile?”

Viktor called your name, your feet hovering over the edge of the step. Turning to see him, slowly walking toward your unoccupied chair, gaze cast over the coast as his elbow leaned against the window to support his chin.

“I know we didn’t meet in the most… ideal circumstances. But… but I’m happy that you’re here, now,” he muttered, looking back at you with a smile. “Thank you.”

You smiled, looking at the ground. "I think I should be the one thanking you," you said, hands interlaced over your stomach. "You helped me break out the cursed destiny it had been traced for me.”

Viktor hooked the cane in the crook of his elbow, looking out the window, pensive.

“I like to believe we both are helping each other to break our curses.” Viktor looked at you intently, his gaze freezing you, mid-step, suspended in a void.

[monstersinthecosmos]

Your Marius playlist is so good ‼️‼️‼️🫢I never would have thought of wardruna and heilung for him but it’s perfect 100/10

dgdsgaklsd thank you !!!!!!!!! I'm really excited that you like it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Marius playlist if anyone is curious (: )

Sometimes people think I'm crazy because I don't really hear lyrics when I listen to music so all my playlists are built on VIBES ONLY. Marius playlist is like: Music That Could Be the Score of an Existential Crisis When You've Lived in Centuries of Darkness and Also Have Trauma From That Time You Were Murdered By a Pagan Cult. Any time I'm listening to music in the wild and I hear this vibe, it gets dropped into this playlist, regardless of lyrical content LOL.

The neofolk half of it speaks for itself, I think. I've also written meta about how I think black metal feels tonally appropriate for the Ancients. And like neofolk is one of those genres where like, so many of the fans are metalheads LOL. (I mean i got into Wardruna because of Gaahl haha it started there). And like I absolutely lose my mind over like pagan black metal/blackened folk metal where they bring in all the historical instrumentation into the metal like HJDKALGDS THE TEXTURE, I DIE, it's my fav genre of music. And it's just so incredibly bleak, but also so patient. It feels so heavy and existential and full of dread!!!!!!!! 😍 And thinking in a vampire context it's like ANCIENT OLD TRAUMA!!!! Bad memories from CENTURIES AGO. Idk man it just feels so good.

It's frustrating because like all the EXTREMELY SPOOKY ANCIENT MOOD MUSIC tends to be Nordic and I wish I could find some what had more Italian influence (this is a thinly veiled rec request if anyone has any) because every time I do go down the rabbithole and look for Italian neofolk it isn't what I'm looking for. I need like that deep terrifying Wardruna sound you know? It's gotta be out there, I will keep searching!!!!!!!!!!

There's some Balkan & Greek bands in there which are so great (Negură Bunget & Rotting Christ lol) and I have to go back and drop in more Karl Sanders for Akasha vibes lol. There are some really cool Middle Eastern metal bands too that use cool instrumentation (thinking of Melechesh) but they're not gloomy enough LOL. I need to go take a stroll and see if I can find some spooky stuff. And there's some really great Greek pagan/folk which probably is similar to what I'm trying to find but I'm looking for like the more neofolky half, like I need Greek Wardruna LOL.

But I really love most genres of music as long as it's gloomy and like the overlap of neofolk with pagan/black metal is like the perfect type of gloomy for me hasdkjga AND LIKE WHEN IM DAYDREAMING ABOUT MARIUS IT FEELS REALLY GOOD BECAUSE THE SOUNDS FEEL SO ANCIENT. And bands like Wardruna and Heilung give me so many God of the Grove feelings it just makes me think about the cult trauma. 🍿 (even if the regions are a little inaccurate please let me live, I'm doing my best with what I can find.)

[teawiththegods]

Hello again! First off, thank you sooooo much for replying to my question about Hades so quickly! I'm wondering about making him some peppermint tea and writing him a letter, but what should I do with those offerings? Do I pour the tea into the earth and then bury the letter? Or do you think just putting it on my altar would work? I've never made an offering to an Underworld deity before so I'm kinda unsure about what to do lol

But I also have another question if you don't mind. The main Hellenic God I work with is Apollo, but I'm like 98% sure that Hestia is also reaching out to me. Donkeys have randomly become my favorite animal (maybe because I saw a cute picture of a donkey but it still feels pretty random) and I've had this random urge to veil my hair too. I actually went out and bought an entire collection of bandanas just so I can veil, which I've heard is a common practice among Hestia followers. And I've just been really focusing on domestic stuff lately, I've become very attached to my house and honestly all I really want out of life is a nice house (like a cottage or something, not a mansion) which I feel is a sign from her. So if you put this all together it just feels like Hestia is reaching out to me.

How do I ask Hestia if she wants to work with me? Do I do a tarot or pendulum reading, or ask aloud and then wait for a sign. Sorry, I'm still a fairly new pagan so this is all still rather new to me. I really appreciate your help. Stay safe hun!

Hello again! <3

You're very welcome! I think the tea and letter are perfect offerings! Idk why but I feel like Hades especially would appreciate a letter. Traditionally offerings for Underworld deities were poured out into the earth or buried since they were tied to the earth. However, modern worshipers aren't required to do this and its also not always recommended. It ultimately depends on the offering because you don't want to harm the environment or the wildlife. Leaving the offerings on an altar is a great alternative! Just make sure you let Hades know the offerings are for him (a simple prayer will work fine!).

Its my personal belief that the majority of the time the gods are always down to acquire new worshipers. Yes, there are cases (even in my own experience) where a god might turn down a worshiper. However from what you're describing it sounds like Hestia has already given you the answer to the question you want to ask. I think instead of looking for additional confirmation you trust in your own instincts and start working with Hestia!

If you do really want to ask her directly you can do any of the options you listed. I just advise you go with the method you're the most comfortable and perhaps experienced with.

Hope that helps! Take care, love!

[whoreofabaddon]

you know, you said a while ago that everyone is incredibly quick to drop their religion and spirituality and no one is really loyal, for lack of better word, and im starting to understand what you mean. first it was ceremonial magic, then everyone suddenly became a traditional witch, then pagan, now everyone is slavic. taking a couple steps back makes all these trends obvious and i think its really sad.

It used to really make me furious to see everyone bounce between their supposed beliefs, trying loyalties on and then tossing them to the side when they were no longer fashionable in their social circle. I'm grateful that the trend of "being a Satanist" while failing to know the differences between Satanism and Luciferianism (let alone the various branches) is over. Because of that, I'm able to see it as almost comical now. We could get into a whole conversation about how each trend ties to current events, but I don't know if I have space on this ask. That being said, does anyone else remember the pagan veiling trend? I'd already experienced watching that come and go with several Christian groups so I knew it inside and out, and I made some post about the downfalls related to doing it for vain reasons. I remember people losing their minds shouting about how they were not doing it just to prove how "holy and spiritual" they were to other people around them but that their gods had "called" for them to do so. I can't name a single one of those people who still veils...

[egressparadox]

THE AMERICAS

INTRODUCTION

It is in the way of man, especially one segregated from the true modern, labor ridden, and unfulfilled way, to hinge to something greater than ones self, the legends.

In the face of science, those shaken against the legends and the lore delivered through the church, the reverence perpetuated by the distracted mind, until it is cultured for the distracted mind

man will hinge himself upon the epics, make himself into a symbol. Here more than any, the last frontier of the earth, what is here will never be on mars.

They exist only amongst the elite, those separated from labor, genetically predetermined to be smarter than the layman or the rope Frayer.

they become bored. and they have been procured to understand the especially heavy handed game of Normandy, the capital economy. a food stamp to the average man, and so , a ballot in itself, for things unruled, for the elite. desperate for culture, these elite, or made elite, will not only hinge to the epics, but will screw themselves into the wall, until they think of something entirely brand new. a new epic. a bust, of a champion in the new world.

SUMMARY

cowboys and Indians

the railway tycoon, The robber baron THE Vanderbilt

the saints, Samson, and Christ

Mr. Alister Crowley . perhaps, the only imported intrigue

America is somehow predetermined , to worship only its own legacy , to recognize only its own legends save for the legends of Abraham, and the Jesus Christ. a bastardization brought upon by the dehydrated and the hysterical , stolen to become taxed by the crusading Vatican, the same state which had him crucified, that legend then sold to Europe to secure the power of kings, and stolen again, by a monk, an asocial. procured again, by angry and existentially terrified serfs. who pilgrimed to THE AMERICAS.

TAKEAWAY

Jesus Christ, the revolutionary, spoke against the state of the then pagan Rome, on no behalf of their religion then , but against the nature of their occupation, which sponsored their glorious wealth, shadowed only in the bible, by Christs whipping of a merchant in the church.

The founding fathers of America, freemasons, an overshadowed portion of their lives, something stolen, when it is said that they are "god fearing" implicit, that they fear god just as you and I when it seems as though their position was in science, especially in mathematics. perhaps, positioning themselves towards a more calculated form of worship, in deeds done rather than wealth. The very same "founding fathers" who generaled armies under the flag , "join or die" , who led war against the masters, to save their brothers, and their new corner of the earth. was it taxes? the foreign police? the expansion of the church? it is evident in our founding laws that it was all of these tiny things, which stack high against their own new freedom, the struggle , for the last unruled lands. ruled now not by kings, but by wealth, Ruled over even higher, are not new kings, but lords and barons, essentially permanent, made by the kings who come and go like trees before a mill.

there is such a potential for balance there, true power, over the true power in the dollar. a bargain between our permanent masters, in wealth , and in agency. who certainly all run amok beneath the curtails, of our kings, anointed old, and dethroned, for and by the best of our medicines, which allow only the elite, to rule from their wraps like mummies. they are only totems of wealth to be bore upon the backs of their underlings, like, mules.

the maintenance of wealth and this permanence of power, tragedy in itself, is not the bargain, it is assured, untestable. for at least a generation, pending the failure of the veil, the true conspiracy. it must be dozens of tiny things, they must be pinned into these totems of the elite, their mummies, all of its short comings. the veil is freedoms assured, above all else. they will impede upon them , a trial,

in this coming of ages, a new epoch and an era, brought by the bargain, the maintenance of new development. of competition. against the world which might impede on this new free world. (which has become its own old country.)

the fall back for the designated martyr. to become a legend, in our new and un-inked epic legacy

our new legacies in epic. beyond the grandiose and the obvious , the artistic and the biblical. the new mode of legacy, for a man to have a law drafted in his name. not by his demand, but by his act.

it is inherently unamerican , that the castle here, in D.C will not ever topple over. It is inherit in our culture that it should shudder at itself today. these bricks will not peel themselves back.

///

this new legend, our epic in America. brought upon in the unknown state, the underworld, perpetuated by the orgiests, the dionysiac's, the wealthy, the elite, the wick and the righteous. wrapped itself around a child, for him to cloak itself within it outright, entirely. Our warden of Evil, the young gamemaster.

///

reforging a legend, when all unknowns, his power, as well as confusions are made known

the new child soldier scheme:

OSIMOV . the mentally ill child soldier, against the scientific death cult at war before and with a myriad of states. FORTITUDE in grand designs

the living saints . . . (the court at the time of Samsons anointment)

BINGO . the agent savant, a permanent actor. perpetuation of the act, always ahead of himself. CONFUSION RAMSKULL . drafted into slavery and emerging through his chains , to die a powerful death, a martyr, and a warriors messiah. COURAGE PLUTO . the eternal veteran, who's discipline has eroded in the face of the enemy , who is reduced to become a beast and so must live amongst them. TEMPERANCE IASSAC . forever the confused child, all too trusting , until the final second, when hands are laid. who regards himself to be an angel, contained. YOUTH CLOVER BO . the serial killer who acts in 3's . who makes them confess, a constant spectator of this epic, beneath of a god he knows he will never achieve in knowing. PATIENCE

mask tribes saints of practice . who's covet will anoint "Sam's son" the horror that only laughs. HUMOUR

[hexehaus]

About Me

Just some old crone. Grave dirt worn around my neck & Santa Muerte on my shirt.

I'm no pretty young thing. I've been around a long, long time. The only pack I run with are wolves. I spew every thought without a care, my mind is open like a bear trap. Once it closes, yer dead and bloody. Ha!! I'm not that mean spirited, but I mostly think of myself. Could be an opportunist, or maybe a sociopath. Dunno. I'm a complicated bird.

I'm married. Have a 24 year old physicist son named Aleister. Not after you-know-who, but rather a classical Scottish name I chose to please my ex. His middle name is mine - Wilhelm - after my German great grandpa.

My son is brilliant, though he inherited some family traits that I had wished very hard he wouldn't. Serious mental illness - though it can be easily controlled with medication. Mine is, but as others on my other blog know, I'm an electroshock patient.

Ppl nowadays don't know what that is. A procedure in which you are put under anesthesia and one or two (2 for me) electrodes are placed on your head. You then get shocked with 120-250 joules of electricity to cause seizures. This can cure depression. It did for me, when pills & therapy all failed. When I told my son about the joules of electricity that they used on me, he went completely silent for 2 minutes on the phone.

So, that is my baggage! Why do I spill the beans? So ppl understand the methods behind my madness. I had a lot of hospital stays (think "Girl, Interrupted," but not posh & elite) and got nothing out of those except fun arts & crafts therapy.

I always found a tag along too. Sometimes my roommate, but often not. Mostly men, older ones. The hospital staff hated this!! It made my 15 minute checks uncomfortable for them. Dunno why, i have a husband. I was just talking & joking with these fellas. 😂

Anyway, stupid illustrious past! I could probably write a autobiography, but I'm not full enough of myself to think that it would be of interest. It wouldn't be very saucy or hot, though this stuff burns very brightly. I'm a Venus in Capricorn. So is my husband. We have hard times describing what we wanna do together because we are both so reserved! We just have to DO! Lol! 😆 And we do!

I am a little manic, but it's good. There's a lot of uniqueness about this old Aquarius crone. My other blog is mostly about my necromancy practice, or rather my practice, Muerteria. I work with muertos, but one in particular. My sweet Rodolfo. I say this because he is sweet to deal with me!

I should probably say this in my other blog (nfumbewalk.tumblr.com). But something happened on my holiday night. My holiday day, Sensain, was on the 29th. It isn't based on pagan holidays or Christian ones, but i acknowledge the fading light and thinning of the veil. It is the dying time. Well indeed! I was in ritual and who appeared in my mirror, a regular glass mirror? Rodolfo's face - totally clear! I'd only seen it looking obscured or in shadows. HOLY shit! I finally saw him! I almost fainted. I wish i could draw. Rodolfo has been busy making noises too. Footsteps and its like I hear his clothing moving.

Muertera/o/ists wear the humble but mighty Amethyst because no matter how tough the energy that passes through it, it can be cleansed and charged with HTDE. And yes, grave dirt can cleanse your crystals!! The more you know...

My hypothesis, HTDE, or Highly Transmutable Death Energy™ it is called. It contains the spiral of life, or what some may call deoxyribonucleic acid (no spell check!) Or DNA. People contain DNA. They still do after death. Can a grave have DNA? No. But cremains (ashes) still *technically* do, even if you're burned, you can still identified. Crematories just put you in a pine box.

My hypothesis takes me deep into death and what surrounds ppl when they die, where they go, what they do, etc. If you like this stuff and my rambling here, nfumbewalk is for you! I'm just making a long one here as an example. Lol! 😊

My book on Muerteria is definitely gonna take some time! I'm researching the stores of knowledge that have been made to me by my spirit guide. Lorkane has given me so much to learn and has opened doors that I never would have imagined. This is NOT the same channeling like "Seth" from the 70's. Shit be coming true that he tells me!!

i talk at length about channeling both of my grandpa's. More on my other blog. I didn't know either of them. One died, and I met one of them at a young age, and he died right afterwards. They gave me detailed information that I knew nothing about. I researched online & found out it all existed. Never heard shit about Machinists or Grain Elevator Inspectors. He called my grandma an old hag and he said wanted to jet back to Missoula after WWII, but she got pregnant with my mom. 😅 Didn't know that. Lol! My other grandpa is where I got my gifts from. Ben. Cool grandpa, he calls it the Thorp Family Power. It originally was passed down to boys. My brother didn't get it. I did. Aleister, he's so sciencey I dunno. Kinda doubt it.

Lorkane has alluded to something happening during this part of the year. He said early October. Hmm.

Anyway, sorry for this long windy post. Back to spells & herbs!

M.M. 💖💀💖

[candlelightcrackle]

Witchy Questions pt. 2

Q12: Sun sign?

Leo

Q13: Moon sign?

Capricorn

Q14: Do you have a familiar?

I don't.

Q15: Thoughts on the afterlife?

To me, life continues and is not defined by the mortal realm. To many here, this is the primary worldview they base their understanding of. To me, it is flipped in the sense that I view my spirit eternal and mortal lives akin to dreams.

Q16: Have you had any paranormal experiences?

I guess you could say that. To me the extrasensory stuff may bleed into the mundane at times. As if I'm watching two realities overlapping temporarily and briefly. "Peaks from behind the veil."

Q17: Are you out of the broom closet? How do your friends/family feel about it?

Not explicitly, my brother knows I'm more liberal with my beliefs than Christianity or its sects and cults. He knows I do tarot and have pagan altars. But the rest of my family doesn't know for other reasons. Also my acquaintances aren't explicitly included in this knowledge though couple of them joke about me being a witch.

Q18: What is something that inspires you?

Connection. To other people and the spirit. Seasonal changes. The ability to create.

Q19: Do you have an altar?

Yes, I have a couple of altars for different functions and other sacred spots.

Q20: What is a spell you have done?

One of the first ones I did was self-love spell. It was a jar spell and made me happy every time I shook it.

Q21: Do you have an animal? What is it?

No, currently I don't have any pets.

Q22: Favorite pagan holiday you celebrate?

I don't follow any public holidays. I have attempted celebrating Yule. But mostly I follow the seasons and involve the natural elements in my home life across the seasonal changes.

Q23: Do you meditate?

I have challenges in meditating, but I do take music based breaks, like listening to yt meditation music or the enn of King Belial at times to bring myself back into myself and allowing myself to disconnect from the daily life.

Q24: Have you gone to a psychic, tarot reading, reiki master or healer?

I have gone to both paid and free psychics and tarot readers and offer tarot/oracle myself.

Q25: What witchy books have influenced you?

I am terrible at reading but some of the books I have purchased for that purpose are Psychic Witch, Mastering Magic by Mat Auryn. Draconian Ritual Book by Asenath Mason. The Horned God of the Witches by Mankey. Goetia Pathworking by Corwin Hargrove. Miller's Consorting with Spirits.

Q26: Favorite Websites?

I have very little patience for websites :D so I don't usually browse the web very much outside of social media's like the discord, or some select subreddits. I tend to look for a wider scope of information than any one select website for information when I look something up to get a consensus of the topic/theme and make up my own mind based on the information procured.

Q27: Favorite Witch Movie?

I don't have one.

Q28: Favorite mythological animal?

I like the experience I had of an astral plant that was like half plant half animal. Plant and stationary but with sentience and interactive behavior.

Q29: Favorite season?

I love winter, but also I tend to like the transitioning times from one of the four seasons most. The journey from Winter to Spring, or Summer to Fall.

Q30: Favorite herb?

Jasmine, perhaps. I like Jasmine tea a lot.

[princeofgod-2021]

LIGHT OF LIFE 377

John 1:4

UNDERSTANDING PROPHETIC MANDATES 11: SECRETS THINGS 11

Amo 3:7 CERTAINLY, THE ALMIGHTY LORD DOESN'T DO ANYTHING UNLESS HE FIRST REVEALS HIS SECRET TO HIS SERVANTS THE PROPHETS. GW

So, now beloved, if you are not living above sin, filled regularly with the Holy Ghost and crushing the devil’s deeds, you are not living fulfilled.

You must acknowledge the full benefit of what Christ did for us all.

Heb 2:11 JESUS, THE HOLY ONE, MAKES US HOLY. AND AS SONS AND DAUGHTERS, WE NOW BELONG TO HIS SAME FATHER, so he is not ashamed or embarrassed to introduce us as his brothers and sisters! TPT

Sadly, I hear too many arguments these days, from Muslims and pagans, about why God had to send His son to die for us if He is a loving God and could forgive us without the Blood Sacrifice.

I realize that satan has blinded many from seeing this truth, which are no more secrets, because he paid dearly for his own ignorance and wants as few person as possible to ever realize it too.

2Pe 1:8-9 If you keep growing in this way, it will show that what you know about our Lord Jesus Christ has made your lives useful and meaningful. BUT IF YOU DON'T GROW, YOU ARE LIKE SOMEONE WHO IS NEARSIGHTED OR BLIND, AND YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN THAT YOUR PAST SINS ARE FORGIVEN. CEV

More shocking to me is the discovery that many Christians don’t know the answers to the questions we raised in the last 2 lessons.

I watched a tiktok video of a lady who became an atheist because she asked the questions, but nobody in Church could give her answers.

Wow! I even saw a debate on tv between a Muslim and Christian, who seemed confused by the question.

2Co 4:3-4 BUT IF OUR GOOD NEWS IS VEILED, IT IS VEILED FROM THOSE WHO ARE ON THE WAY TO DESTRUCTION: Because the god OF THIS WORLD HAS MADE BLIND THE MINDS OF THOSE who have not faith, SO THAT THE LIGHT OF THE GOOD NEWS OF THE GLORY OF CHRIST, WHO IS THE IMAGE OF GOD, MIGHT NOT BE SHINING ON THEM. NET

This Gospel is not hidden anymore; whatever Jesus spoke in Parables back then, He stated clearly that it was only for a time, and the truth will soon be made known.

Mar 4:21-22 Jesus continued, "DOES ANYONE EVER BRING IN A LAMP AND PUT IT UNDER A BOWL OR UNDER THE BED? Isn't it put on the lampstand? WHATEVER IS HIDDEN AWAY WILL BE BROUGHT OUT INTO THE OPEN, AND WHATEVER IS COVERED UP WILL BE UNCOVERED. GNB

It is that simple beloved. Will God send His son to die for all men but keep that project secret to the same men?

That is senseless really.

Mat 10:26-27 Don't be afraid of anyone! Everything that is hidden will be found out, and every secret will be known. WHATEVER I SAY TO YOU IN THE DARK, YOU MUST TELL IN THE LIGHT. AND YOU MUST ANNOUNCE FROM THE HOUSETOPS WHATEVER I HAVE WHISPERED TO YOU. CEV

Only the devils have to be kept in the full dark. If any man is kept in the dark still by God, then he is an agent of darkness too.

Isa 60:2 FOR, BEHOLD, DARKNESS SHALL COVER THE EARTH, AND GROSS DARKNESS THE PEOPLES: but the LORD shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee. RV

Psa 88:11-12 Shall Your loving-kindness be declared in the grave? Or Your faithfulness in ruin? SHALL YOUR WONDERS BE KNOWN IN THE DARK, AND YOUR RIGHTEOUSNESS IN THE LAND OF FORGETFULNESS? MKJV

These are end times and these things must be revealed now, otherwise, they are useless to us.

Dan 12:9-10 He answered, "GO ON ABOUT YOUR LIFE DANIEL. THE MESSAGE IS HIDDEN. IT WILL BE A SECRET UNTIL THE TIME OF THE END. Many people will be made pure—they will make themselves clean. But evil people will continue to be evil. And THOSE WICKED PEOPLE WILL NOT UNDERSTAND THESE THINGS, BUT THE WISE PEOPLE WILL UNDERSTAND THEM. ERV

Meanwhile, we who have been made to understand, have the mandate to profoundly declare these truths in details to all and sundry, so that they may take caution and get serious.

1Ti 4:6 YOU ARE A GOOD SERVANT OF CHRIST JESUS WHEN YOU POINT THESE THINGS OUT TO OUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS. Then you will be nourished by the words of the Christian faith and the excellent teachings which you have followed closely. GW

We must admit that if we don’t realize the CORE VALUE of this MYSTERY, by whose discovery we got a vibrant and superseding edge over satan, then the devils will yet bare rule over many in the fold and keep them blinded.

I Jn 2:8 Yet it is also NEW, Jesus lived in the truth of this commandment and you also are living it. FOR THE DARKNESS IS DISAPPEARING AND THE TRUE LIGHT IS ALREADY SHINING. NLT

May God flood our lives with the full Light of the Gospel and make us excel, IN JESUS NAME.

Join us on Wednesday, for progress in this enlightening and explosive Subtopic.

Keep Shinning!

Brother Prince

Monday, July 10, 2023

08055125517; 08023904307

[thinlyveiledlokean]

Greetings from a pagan who covers his hair!

As far as the first question goes, any kind of precedent for how you feel You would like to show or cover your body is nice to have but ultimately unnecessary. Having one is going to depend on the specific path that you follow, I know I have seen many Hellenic individuals cover their face with a historical precedent for the style that they wear. I believe I have seen one kemetic as well, But if there is historical or cultural precedent for it, I'm not one to know. I follow a primarily Nordic path and there isn't really much of a precedent for me covering, But syncretism and eclecticism is a thing and many are just more comfortable expressing devotion in this way.

Although these examples that come to mind are usually in tandem with covering the hair and more of the body, do what feels right to you and for your expression of devotion!

As far as acquiring a religious accommodation, I would first first figure out what style I would be actually wearing at work and start wearing it outside of work first to make sure it's what feels right. But most places will have religious accommodation. Unless you are working somewhere that requires protective equipment to be worn over the nose and mouth, hopefully bringing it up to your supervisor is enough. For me when I started veiling I kind of just... Started. If anyone asked then I would answer, and I am blessed that I have been met with well- meaning curiosity. Although of course, depending on your area that may not be the case. Listen to your gut and make sure you are safe!

Another thing I wanted to add is that you should not have to out yourself specifically as pagan. Simply stating that it is religious should be enough, as no one has an encyclopedic knowledge, of sll religions and all ways to practice them. I have never come into a situation where I had to defend or points to any sacred text or history to justify the practice

Hey, for all you pagans out there on tumblr who follow me or might see this post, I wanted to ask some questions to you all! See, I've been wearing a mask every day out in public since covid times, and a couple years ago I thought about potentially covering my face as a statement of faith. I was inspired to do so after hearing about people covering their hair in pagan faith. I've spent the year or so working up the confidence to wear a face veil in public, bc I'm kinda tired of just wearing disposable face masks all the time. So I wanted to pose some questions to fellow pagans who know more about veiling than I do:

1. Is there a precedent for those of pagan faith covering their faces? Do people tend to use face coverings in addition to veiling, or are there people who just cover their face? (The latter is what I've worked out with my deities thus far. I find my hair to be gender affriming and also a way to connect to my deities.)

2. How do you get religious accomodations for this sort of thing as a pagan? Since paganism isn't an organized religion, there isn't really any kind of religious texts I can point to that tell me to do it. It's really just a call from my deities to do so, but I'm not sure that reasoning would fly in places with dress codes.

Even if you don't have any answers or resources, a reblog would be appreciated to help this find the right people! Blessed be, and thank you for your help!

[oh-for-fic-sake-library]

The Saxon Heathen

Masterlist

Summary: jarl geralt is excitedly awaiting the return of his raiders, aboard one of the longships was his gift from the allfather. His vision was of a saxon heathen, a woman. His intended. Butlittle did he know that this woman would eagerly butt heads with him , for she belongs to no one, least of all an albeit handsome brute.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of brutality, viking AU,

A/N: so a little au jarl viking geralt and a crazy pagan saxon for you.i always wondered what a a viking would have done with a saxon heathen. Anyway i hope you enjoy my little slice of madness.

Caution not beta'd ignor the typos because i am.

Four days. For four days the jarl had been on the dock watching the horizon. Waiting for the sails of his clan to break through the thick autumnal fog, the grey that muted the blue of the open sea. He was like a statue, unmoving, patiently gazeing out in to the distance with purpose awaiting the arrival of his gift.

The jarl was not built for this longing. He conquered, argued and roared in the midst of battle. He was true to his clan, fought and bled for them, re-emerged from deaths grip countless of times. Others called him a gods champion. A chosen of odin, which spurred his own clans feirce loyalty to him. Especially when his hair had turned into the brilliant white before his ageing. His eyes had always fascinated the others in the village , the light amber akin to that of wolf. Earning him the title of White wolf. Yet now with his hair he truely looked otherwordly. Some called him asgaurdian others uttered he was and odinson. But truth be told he was unsure what caused such looks. He never questioned the gods, never asked for reasons, only ever wprshipped them.

And now his unyielding love and loyalty to them had brought forth a boon. Geralt jarl of Rivia had been granted a vision, a premonition from the very gods he adored. The seer of the clan had shared in his minds sight, it would seem the gods did not see fit to give the wolf privacy on such matters.

The vision told of an arrival, a great boon from the gods. A warrior. A woman. She will step on this shoreline with a fierce fury that only the valkyrie should know. She was a roaring fire that would know no taming, a force to be reckoned with. A strangly familiar saxon, who was not a weeping wisp of a thing. He dare say she was a a distant cousin of his own kin. For in his vision he felt a pressence similar to a sheildmaidens.

All he knew was this female entity was intended for him. She was a gift from his gods. His treasure from a distant land, she was here for him. He would captivate her and lure her to his side. Like a flame beckoning a moth he will become irresistible to her, she will come to him even at the risk of peril. And once he insnares her she will birth him his heirs, gift him his own batallion of fierce warriors to conquer new lands.

Geralt knew it was close, his warriors were returning home and would land anyday. So he sat and watched, sometimes fished to pass time, showing the younger ones how to cast a net properly to keep them from under their parents feet. But mostly he was still, gazing out into the fog that thickened each day, the autum veil signalled the return of his clansmen. He needed to remain and see this woman as she set foot on his dock.

It was the deep bellow of a horn that alerted him. He drew a deep breath, steeling himself as he heard their call. The resounding long drawn low sound of his clansmen and their yells as they took to the oars and began sailing through the small estuary towards thier home. Others came to the beach and the once quiet dock became a hub of excitement. And with swift stroke along the water the long boat peeled through the fog, the mast sliceing through the smoke like tendrils of ashen coloured sky. He grinnedmfeeling his chest tighten with an odd relieved anxiety. He couldnt wait for them to moore.

You screeched as a rage youd never felt before engulfed you like the very flames that curled around your home those weeks ago. Your battle cry drew the attention of everyone on the docks and long boat's. Saxons and norsemen. Before anyone could stop you, youd jumped the side of the boat and thundered down the dock towards the priest whod dared to comment on your mothers passing. Curseing you and her with scathing words as he exited the boat in shackles with the other Christians.

You had enough of his shit.

You tucked your head and shoulder slightly as you colided with one of the large norsemen that had tried to stop your assault. The huge male had shuffled quickly, widening his arms and bent his knees ready to capture you before you could damage any of the others. But his strength and size did not best your utter rage and you somehow managed to barrel into him sending him off balance and into the cold frigid water below.

Years of rage and hate for the male before you seemed to gift you with the power of something greater. And without a second of hesitation you ducked and body slammed the now yelling, quivering preist sending him to the ground. Your hands may still be tied but you were going to kill him. You were going to kill him!

Your scuffle drew a crowd as you began screaming at the priest who was crying out for help. But the norsemen watched in amusent as you headbutted him cracking his nose drawing a high cry from him. He fell flat on his back and you clambered over him pinning and kneeing him, stomping and kicking where you could. All the qhile screaming like a banshee at him, taunts and curses a-plenty.

The norsemen had noticed on the voyage that you were different. The other saxons spat at you naming you a heathen. A pagan. Two words they didnt fully understand but were used to describe themselves. From what theh could understand you did not worship the saxons god. And the saxons hadnt known you were in the woods, you were belived to be a myth.

Your cabin was hidden away from the settlement they had plundered, decorated in bones and feathers with oddities placed around the door. Carvings and cut stones littering your tiny homestead. You were almost like them in a way.

"Ill be sure to send you to your god! You vile fuck! She was my mother! My mother!!" You yelled tears burning your eyes as your rage flowed freely. You rolled around twisting your hips and captured the preists head between your thighs and hooked one ankle behinde the other.

The norsemen laughed clapping and whistling ,uttering praises as you coiled around your victim like a snake, and much like a snakes prey, the preist could do little more then squirm and squeak. But you paid no mind instead concentrated on popping this snivelling man head clean off his shoulders.

"How does it feel to be sent to your god from between a heathens thighs!?" You shouted hooking your ankles together and clenched your thighs tighter. He flicked his feet out in desperation but nothing would distract you from your task. Not even when the crowd parted letting a huge silver haired male step to the front and watch the show. You felt his arrival but did not pay any mind. You were too preoccupied with attempted murder.

Geralt watched with a sense of pride.his woman was spirited, wild and beautiful. Her thick mane of glossy hair whipped about her as she wrestled on the ground with the poor male. Hecouldnt help his cock twitcing at the sight. Her skirts hiked up around her knees as she captured her prey. The thick mud painting her skin as she tried to murder the man.

Fuck. his eyes locked on the supple yet strong thighs clamped around the males neck. He was almost jealous of her victim, he wanted to feel the sliken skin of her inner thigh caressing his own face. Though when it was his turn to test the strenght of her leg it would be for an entirely different reason. She would tense them around him in ecstasy, not anger.

"Gods above, they did not lie." The seer hummed almost as entranceed by the seen as his jarl was. He didnt bpdare look away from the valkyrie before him, instead only speaking when he felt his jarl stand beside him.

"Indeed she is truly magnificent, to grow with such ferocity in a land full of cowards and piss ants" geralt replied a grin crossing his face as his female began taunting the godly man. She was ost definitely a heathen.

"Huh? Oh what your speechless?! Nothing to preach whilst being strangled by skirts!?"your qords drew laughterfrom all of the northmen some even calling out silver coins betting on how long the preist would survive such an assault.

"She has a wit about her as well as fire. You are truly blessed" the seer chuckled along with the others. He knew she was ging to fit right in. And possibly give their jarl a challenge, the next few ,onths were going to be amusing. Though the allfather granted geralt this delightful boon, the jarl was still going to have to work for it. Afterall the gods need to create their own entertainment occasionally. And this was certainly entertaining.

"Jarl- should we intervene?" One of the men asked growing weary of the priest now beginning to change colour. A deep red fading to purple.

"No, for now let her have her fun." Geralt uttered still enjoying the sight of his half bare queen rolling around in the mud attempting murder.

"She will kill the slave, you know this" the seer utters knowingly. There was a slight displeasure. Geralt had swore the next priest caught would be gifted to him. The seer wanted to toy with one of the saxons. To try and break them ad convert them to their own gods.

"It would be a good death, to die between such supple thighs" another clansmen spo,e up with a deep laughothers joined his laughter agreeing with him. Gerlat stiffened and shuffled on his feet. He did not like that one bit.

"I doubt the preist feels the same."

"It is not death i shall obtain between them, but perhaps a taste of valhalla-" the first man began but didnt get to finish his statement as geralt snarled feeling a wave of possessive jealousy risewithin. He turned on the man so swiflty the later almost staggered back defensively.

"She is not to be touched. Any who try will loose more then their hands" geralt sneered at the crowd of men thatwere clearly planning on trying to have his woman for themselves, perhaps all at once.

Gerlat panted in rage, eyes darkening a growl boiling in his chest frightening those around him. It was rare to see the jarl so enraged outside of the battlefield. They all looked away averting their eyes from their jarl and the woman on the ground. None wanted to cross him, or risk his anger by eyeng the beauty.

It was when geralt was sure he made his point that he looked away from the men. His amber eyes found his woman oonce kore. He grunted, as much as he enjoyed the veiw of her bare legs he did not li,e that the others could also appreciate the sight her supple skin. Her body was for his eyes. Not theirs.

"Jarl? You are considering a slave? You never; its unlike you to take intrest in the saxons past their gold" one male dared speak up when he noticed his jarls attention was back on the woman.

"Slave? No. She is much more then a mere saxon slave. She is a gift All father sent me visions. A ferocious saxon beauty would arrive. My own woman to tame, and when i do the clan will prosper. We will all enjoy the favour of the gods!" He declared, trying to ignore the tense few moments he'd had with his own clansmen.

The crowd cheered as the jarl promised the blessing of the gods. He smiled, but his eyes peered at the two warriors who had tried to taint his new found bride with there mocking words. They each shrunk under the predatory gaze thwt earned him his name. And then nodded back off letting theier jarl know they would not interfere with the gods plans.

Geralt smiled befor stalking up to the woman and blue priest. He chuckled it was both arousing and adorable the way she trapt him so thoroughly. He couldnt wait to get her wrapped around him. Though he may hav to wait some time before letting her mount his own shoulders, she had a good grip and even he may have some trouble pulling her off if she decided to suffocate him with her thighs.

You ignored the way everyone around you seemed to quiet down, or the footsteps that halted beside you. Two muddy leather boots stopped by your head, your eyes flicked up the pength of male and found a truley magnificent man. The odd silver hair and amber eyes addedto the godly ethereal look. Not that he was slight in any way. Taller then all saxons youd seen, and wider too. Not that he was fat, no his size wasnt a result of greed and there was no typical beer belly. He was solid, strong as an ox.

"Release him woman" he grunted down at you tapping you with the toe of his boot lightly whilst crossjngnhis arms and smirking down at you amused. You snarled at him wordlessly before drawing a muffled yelp from your victim tensing your legs once more.

"I said release him" the man repeated his voice stern and deep, full of warning. You shuddered unable to stop the strange wave of heat washing over you. You thighs stiffened pai fully, trying to clench from his growled words. You frowned you didnt li,e thatat all. No man had ever effected you in such a way. It only fueled your rage.

"Not untill hes dead! He thanked his god for my mothers painful death! Celebrated her burning alive! Cursed her soul! Tried to condemn her to an eternal suffering!" You yelled up at the tall pompus ass. You were trying to be angry at him, but something was stopping you. Attraction maybe? No. Somthing else, something deeper. Your soul recognised him, seeing him was like kin who had been astranged finally reuniting. His mere presence felt like thick blankets on a cold day, safe and warm.

"He is a valuable slave and will serve us well in the coming winter. Now release your thighs lest i pry them open myself woman" You faltered for a moment, you tummy tightening.our pussy fluttered at the insinuation. Your eyes flicked to his large hands. God's yes. You wouldnt mind being handled by him, thats for sure. You shook your head ridding yourself of the momentary weakness and bared your teeth at him.

"Try it old man and youll be next!" No geralt was definitely not letting you enjoy his mouth for some time. A punishment youd not know he'd given you untill you had given in to him. Though if he had done his job right by that point youd rather ride his cock each night.

"I warned you woman" he shrugged before ducking down, bending over you scalding you with his hands as they descended on your bare legs. You yelped out loud and cursed him as he slotted a palm between your tights, the other hand encircled one ankle. And with a sharp shucking motion as if flicking out a damp towel the preist was free.

"Agh? Hey wait no! Let me go: get off im almost finished!" You screamed wriggling, kicking as the huge man held you up by your thigh and ankle. He laughed at your curses and vengeful cries. As you saw the deathly blue priest scrabble away from your reach gasping for air.

You squeaked as the amber eyed asshat swooped you upright, throwing you around like you were a tiny weightless child. And without any care to you or the onlookers you were pressed against his crotch tightly. Legs instinctively locking around his waist, and arching towards him afraid of falling back. He hummed and held you, supporting your entire weight with one hand under your bottom. You shuddered as the other still held your ankle behind him. The hot palm slowly rubbing across your leg in teasing feather light caresses.

"There now. Doesn't this feel much better?" He boasted, teasing you by arching his hips into yours lettig you feel his manhoods delight at havingmyour heat smothering him. Your face flamed as the others around you laughed at their jarls supposed victory. You werent having that.

"Id rather have my thighs wrapped around the preist if im honest" you sneered at him drawing even louder laughs from the crowd. You grinned as he frowned quickly, a wave of embarrassment rushing over him,he was unprepared for that.

"We'll see about that when you are astride me." He replied, archign up into your heat once more only thing time he made a show of rubbing you against him, grinding you over his bulge with the hand on your rump.

"Doubtfull" you stuttered trying to keep the pleasure from your voice as your body ignited in a blaze of wanton need. Your warmth clenching tightly urging you to wlecome this barbarian into your hidden depths and discover true rapture.

"Shall we put it to the test?" He tried again to subdue you in a battle of wills. But you were determined to be more then a sodden hole for these savages! Youll be a force to be reckoned with!

"Oh so not even you know the outcome of me atop of you? Not a promising start" you countered, your stubborn pride far to precious to forgo for a decent fuck.

"As good a start as you trying to murder a preist in the dirt with your thighs seconds of entering my village"

"Atleast mine was effective"he scoffed at you before capturing your neck firmly. Tucking his hand tightly below your jaw making you whine and melt against him. He smirked inching his face closer to yours slowly, seductively. Tilting your face up to his and brushed noses wih you as if you were intimate lovers.

"Not that effective. Afterall you didnt finish. But i assure you once your seated on me you will most definitely finish" his tease took a turn, making you flush brightly and gape at him. It wasnt his words that affected you, but the intensity. The way he held you so firmly, held your gaze with his own half lidded hungry eyes. And the way his cock throbbed against you, teasing you with sharp pulsing tremors that made your own needy center weep. You squirmed trying to dislodge his thick member that had crept between your parted legs. His own breeches were the only thing that seperated his need from your own quivering sex. You swallowed dryly trying to think of anything other then the strong male's club poised at your womanly seam, or the way you dampened his breeches with your deceptive arousal.

"I appear to have subdued you quickly enough with little more then words and collar. Do not look so vexed, it is a good thing to know when you are outmatched bu your betters; FUCK!" His victorious words were cut off with a pained yelp as you did the only thingmyou could to shut him up. Used your head. Litterally.

"Im sorry did the big bad barbarian, who clearly outmatches me not see that headbutt coming?" You teased ignoring the pain blossoming in your fore head after hittingnhim so hard with it. You smiled at the sight of blood pooling behind his now fattened lip. If you go down you'll go down swinging.

"I dont see how you didnt see it? I am six inches from your face;HMMFFT!?" Gerlat lunged forward with a growl pressing his lips against yours before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. For a moment you lost yourself, closing your eyes and relaxing as the taste of honeyed mead met your tongue. You lapped at him in a iitten lick seeking more only to pull back yelping as his teeth locked onto your lip and he bit down. Hard.

"YOU FUCKING BIT ME!?" He smiled at you hungry licking his lip, drawjng the bead of red from it. Tasting you with a pleased growl. You could only stare at the erotic sight.

"Blood for blood woman. And now ours is mingled. We are bound by it." His words made you weak. You werent sure why, or what he meant exactly. But you were not something to be taken claimed and owned.

"Bound by blood? Are you fucking crazy?! You drew blood!" Your anger boiled in your bones as you began to understand he thought he had just earned himself a prize. Instead of denying you claims he grinned showing off red glazed teeth.

"I did, id not let a woman so Fiesty escape me, your fire will bode well for our sons" he preened, flaunting his new claim proudly. He couldnt care less if you disagreed. And oath in blood was unbreakable. And it had been you to initiate it,He had simply retunred inkind seali g the deal. He had won.

"Sons? Hell no! Put me down-unbind me! Now you fucking savage!!" Your aggravation ignited once more into a loud display of rage. You swore at him , squirming and lunging at him, yet did not bite in fear of binding yourself to him a second time in some odd barbaric custom!

"I will unbind you once yoou when you yeild to our bond and not a second before" he anounced casually

"Then i will die in these shackles!" You declared with a snarl.

"I very much doubt that. But fear not drakeling. I shall tend to your every need in your bound state. You will succumb the gods have foretold your submission" he promised both soothing and baiting you. He enhjoyed your rage, especially the way you squirmed in the throes of anger, rubbing and grinding across his fornt unintentionally milking his cock in his own clothes. All the while his teaseing had achived his desired effect he found himself granting you the title of a dragons young. Drakeling was fitting, small and mighty. Something that will grow into a powerful, fearsome beast, but for now was a mere sliver of its own greatness.

"Absolutly not! Put me down you asshole! UNBIND ME NOW!" his reply was a swift open palm to your backside, loud and booming making you rise and squeak as your ass burned.

"My my such a demanding thing you are~ so aggressive. Perhaps you need feeding? Tell me drakeling, should i see to your cold empty tummy? Would you like me to fill it for you?" He teased turnng towards the long house paying no mind to the way you yelled and kicked at him. He laughed and held you tighter. Deciding in that moment he really would keep you bound. Youd be fed by his hand alone, he wouuld tend to you, wash and dress you, cater to your every desire until, you bend to his will and sought him out for your own pleasure and comfort.

Thats not to say he wouldn't pleasure you in the mean time, he would. His nights would be spent worshipping your body, toying with you for hours on end untill you are a quivering woman panting in a puddle of your own makeing, though youd never finish, or have the honour of warming his cock. No, he would withold that final pleasure untill you were his mind body and soul. And he couldnt wait.

"Come let us feast!" He called out to his clan. The crowd cheered excitedly. The night would be one they would all remember. Even if it was just because of the blood bound saxon heathen putting on a show for all to see, their jarl was certainly in for a long courtship.

[imaginmatrix]

the gods are real (and so are we)

A Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase Fanfiction

In a world where Gods and Monsters are known by everyone, Annabeth Chase feels entirely alone. That is, until a missent text turns her life upside down, and she finds herself pining for a boy she's never even met! Between mystery texts, her mother’s expectations, and her desires to outdo the resident golden boy, Percy Jackson, can Annabeth still achieve her grand plan?

Art by windbyfire

The Gods are real. And the world knows it.

The world forgot for a while, of course, with the popularity of certain other belief systems temporarily suppressing any faith in those old, pagan Gods. However it was only a few centuries before celestials of all cultures made their presence undeniable. They didn’t like being ignored.

And so the Mist, the ancient veil created by the Gods to protect mortal eyes from the monsters, the deities, and the powers that be, was lifted. 

The Greek Gods ruled the West, naturally. Or at the very least, it had been that way for so long no one questioned it. But the mortals were free to worship any pantheon they wished, and the children of the Gods lived among them. The Demigods, as they were known, attended the finest universities, were lauded for their abilities, and spent their time protecting mortals from monsters and other evils. 

Annabeth was one such demigod. But unlike some, she had no interest in being worshipped for just existing- no, she had plans. Plans to build, to restore, to create. She wanted to make new Universities, new Temples to the Gods, rehabilitate the dilapidated structures in modern Greece, maybe even travel the world offering her services to numerous Gods and cultures. She could easily get there with just her mother’s name alone, but she wanted it to herself. No one else would have a claim to her accomplishments.

She was ready too- not necessarily ready to build the next Colosseum, but ready to study, as she did most nights. New Athens University had a fabulous architecture program, and as a scholarship student with such big plans, this Friday was to be spent in the same manner as all Fridays- a cup of tea close by, her blonde hair pulled to the side in a braid, the books opened, and pencil on paper. 

And it was right when the pencil hit the paper that Annabeth’s phone buzzed, disturbing the start of a wonderful nightly ritual and causing her to huff her bangs out of her face in annoyance. 

7:34PM XXX-XXXX hey grover, how do u stop hydras from doing the head thing again???

Hydras?

So it was a wrong number. One directed towards a Grover, a name Annabeth already knew though she doubted it was the same Grover, and she gnawed her lip, fingers hovering over the keys, debating if it was worth correcting the mystery texter.

7:34PM XXX-XXXX its kinda an emergency like life and death 

7:35PM XXX-XXXX like RIGHT NOW!!!!!!

7:36PM Burn the stumps after you chop off the heads. Be careful of their venom.

She sent the text and tossed her phone aside, satisfied with her assistance and now, ready to get back to her evening.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Annabeth couldn’t help it when her eyes kept glancing back at her phone nervously. 

Nothing.

Was he dead, then? Death by hydras sounded particularly awful. She felt a little twinge of sadness for whoever was on the other end, hoping they went quickly at least-

bzzt!

She lunged for the phone, tucking some blonde strands behind her ear as the notifications came pouring in.

7:59PM XXX-XXXX WOO yeah that did it!!! thanks a lot man i owe you one!!!! drinks tomorrow???? u can bring juniper, i dont mind

So it WAS the same Grover- unless there was another satyr out there with a girlfriend named Juniper. Annabeth typed fast, trying to cut off whatever overexcitable person was on the other end.

8:00PM  I’m not Grover. You have the wrong number.

8:00PM XXX-XXXX wait  seriously??? shit sorry man, but thanks for the help!!!

8:01PM I’m not a man either.  But you’re welcome. 

8:01PM XXX-XXXX haha now i feel like a dumbass

8:02PM Well you DID apparently enter into a Hydra battle without knowing how to actually kill a Hydra.

8:02PM XXX-XXXX …so youre calling me a dumbass?

8:03PM I’m just saying you could have been better prepared.

Annabeth knew the type. A 20-something year old demigod who thought he was invincible, going monster hunting every weekend without so much as a plan. Typical. If it weren’t for people like her, people like him would die at much higher rates than they currently did.

8:04PM XXX-XXXX alrighty then, miss know it all ...er it IS miss, right? im not wrong about that too?

8:04PM Yes, I’m a girl. And a “Know-It-All”.

8:05PM XXX-XXXX haha at least you admit it!

She rolled her eyes. Now that she knew whatever idiot who had interrupted her focus was safe, she could get back to her studies. But still… something felt weird about the whole exchange. Familiar, even. The person obviously attended the same school, or maybe lived in the area if he was friends with Grover, but something about their laid back attitude annoyed her. She’d faced her own share of monsters and they were nothing to scoff at, even if your godly parentage did gift you fantastical powers. 

8:08PM XXX-XXXX so… who are you?

She dropped her phone to the side, ignoring the text even though she burned to give a snarky answer. The daughter of Athena didn’t need any distractions.

It had been a long 3 years already, but they were a blur of studying, classes, monsters, and little else. Of course, she had friends- Grover, who she’d known since she was young, was acquiring his Searcher’s license as well as a degree in ecology. His girlfriend, Juniper, was nice enough to hang out with. Luke was always there for her. Thalia too. And then there were other Athena kids- not many, but a few who had made her feel welcome, and the mortals who attended the school were kind even if they kept their distance from most Demigods. If she could hide her parentage, she would, but something always gave it away.

8:12PM XXX-XXXX hellooooooo

The buzz snapped her gaze from the pages of her book, where the words were floating off despite the dyslexic friendly font, and she snatched the offending cell phone back up. Phones were generally considered dangerous for Demigods upon invention, their signal attracting monsters and other unsavory persons, but utilizing one every once in a while in a safe space wasn’t too bad. At least, that’s what Demigods used as an excuse when they wanted to skip the inconvenience of wet, expensive Iris messages.

8:13PM Some of us are trying to get work done, you know.

8:13PM XXX-XXXX hey it was an honest question! im busy too but maybe i want to get to know my ‘rescuer’

8:14PM Busy chasing monsters for bragging rights?

8:14PM XXX-XXXX no! i mean thats a perk but i ran into it on accident! well mostly accident

8:15PM How do you run into a Hydra by “mostly accident”?

8:15PM XXX-XXXX bad luck? ok its a long story come on you helped me out, let me at least say thanks properly

8:15PM I’m nervous to learn what you consider to be a “proper” thank you

8:16PM XXX-XXXX hey now im not some weirdo or anything i guess u have no way of knowing that tho well, whatever! thanks! night!

8:18PM Goodnight.

That was that then. Mission accomplished. Annabeth turned off her phone and tucked it into the desk drawer, already testing the Fates with how much she had used it tonight, and returned to her studying for real this time. She probably wouldn’t be hearing from him, whoever he was, again, and so it was best just to put the whole situation behind her. 

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Unholy Matrimony: A Sham in Four Acts (Pt.2)

Notes: norse and thoughts are in cursive / Part 1 / this was also posted on Ao3 :)

TW: dub-con, violence

Act II: Marriage

The next morning, you were led into the room you had stayed in before the pagans arrived. Two guards stood outside as a frightened woman was led inside, together with a girl that definitely wasn’t scared.

 While the girl that you were sure was Viking started to look around uninterested, the Saxon woman started laying out things in your room. A man carried a wooden tub inside and the Viking woman began filling it with water.

 Quietly, the Saxon took out a bar of soap while the other disappeared.

 “The pagans have requested that you take a bath, princess.” She said. You considered refusing for a second, but you feared the consequences and only hoped the guards wouldn’t come inside.

…

 You looked at the beautiful dress in wonder as the woman braided your hair quietly. She looked disgusted as the Saxon maid gave you a cross necklace with shaky hands and placed a lace veil over your face. You imagined your face going white at that moment.

 Which one of them would marry you?

 The church was filled with Saxons and Vikings, clearly divided in the middle. Father Matthew stood at the altar, shaking with fear. The walk down the aisle was lonely.

 You always imagined your father or brothers handing you over, but you were alone as you approached your future husband.

 Ivar was leaning on a crutch and had metal braces that you’d never seen around his legs. You did not listen to Father Matthew as he spoke. Your ‘I do’ was deafeningly quiet. You did not hate Ivar, but you were still afraid of his brothers. You didn’t want to be with him in that way either.

 It’s still much better than the old man that Aelle suggested once. A voice whispered in your head. You tried to shake it, but another unbidden thought came into your mind. He is sinfully handsome, isn’t he?

 You ignored it and lifted a hand as Ivar placed a chaste kiss on your lips. Before you could touch him, he left you, and the church. As the day grew old, you could hear a feast going on., but you were once again confined to your room.

 …

 You were almost asleep when he came and took off his vest. You turned away, unsure of what to do. Finally, he settled into the bed, scootching away from you. You sat up abruptly.

 “Aren’t we supposed to…” you began but trailed off.

 “Do you want to? With me?” he sneered.

 “I- I just thought- “ you began, but he interrupted you.

 “Let me sleep in peace. I still have time to put an heir inside you.”

 …

 When he did consummate the marriage, it was methodical. You did not speak, and he didn’t look at you. He left the room afterwards. The next morning, you found out why he’d finally consummated the marriage: your family was on their way to York, an army at their back.

 Somehow, you weren’t sure if you were happy at that. Ivar wasn’t that bad when the two of you played chess or you tried to learn more Norse. He was respectful when you did not speak of your Faith or family and didn’t hurt you. The two of you had learnt to accept each other.

 You searched for Ivar in York, wanting to convince him to make a deal with you father but it was like he had disappeared. Finally, you found him in the church, speaking to the Viking woman with light hair that had prepared you on your wedding day.

 Despite knowing of both your father’s and your mother’s infidelity, your jaw clenched with anger as the woman let her dress fall to the ground and kissed Ivar. Angrily, you stormed from the church out of a side door, slamming the door behind you. On the way out, you ran into Ubbe.

 He looked at your face, marred with anger and raised his brows in confusion. You had only shown very few emotions. Fear, interest, and confusion mainly, but never anger.

 “What happened?” he asked.

 “Why don’t you ask Ivar and his slave whore.” You spat back. Hvitserk, who had joined you two, let his apple sink and sniggered.

 “The princess is jealous of a slave.” He mused. You made a frustrated sound and left for your room. You were desperate for comfort, something to distract you from the loneliness of your daily life. While Ivar had let you read the few books in York, not having a single friend was painful.

 The maid that had helped you was not a friend. She cowered away, frightened of you and your marriage. Ivar had let most Saxons go, to let them carry the news of your marriage into the land and no Northman was willing to spend time with you.

 That evening, the guard summoned you from your chamber to have dinner with the brothers. Normally, they let you eat alone, but with the Saxons approaching, they probably wanted to know everything they could from you.

 They were already eating, tearing their food apart with their hands when you came and barely looked up from their food. You took the empty seat next to Ivar and began cutting your meat quietly.

 “The Saxons are coming in great ----. We have prepared the -------- so a direct attack from them will likely fail, but if they ------- to starve us out- “Ivar began, but you interrupted him.

 “Can’t you make a deal with them? You didn’t marry me for love after all.” You pleaded in English. He looked at you angrily, and you feared you had spoken out of place.

 “I won’t make a deal with Christians.” Ivar spat. “I will have my revenge on your family.”

 You were angry at that. He had married you and ignored you, isolated you from your friends and dammed you to hell, but he couldn’t leave your brothers alone?

 “Why can’t you think about anyone but yourself?” you replied, clutching the cutlery in your hands. Ivar pulled himself up and leaned over to you.

 “I am thinking about my people and what your grandfather did to them.” He said. You slammed the cutlery on the table.

 “You are talking about killing my brothers! The brothers that I took care of, and I love more than anything in this world.” You yelled. “Haven’t you let enough Saxons suffer under your wrath?”

 “I have treated you better than most Saxon lords would, and yet you are so ungrateful. Worry not, Aethelind I have a lot of wrath left.”

 “You have treated me well? Running off with your whore? I can’t blame you for forgetting something in all your plans.” You said. Ivar laughed at you.

 “And what would that be?”

 “What of my wrath husband?” you spat. You weren’t sure if they were laughing at you or silent as  blood rushed to your ears as you stormed outside.

 When you arrived in your room, you summoned the Saxon maid.

 “Bring me a pack and prepare to leave.” You ordered. She nodded, and quietly departed from the room.

 When she returned, you had already laid out the few things you were taking with you. A spare dress, some necklaces, a cross and a knife. She brought some bread and dried meat which you took and quickly put into the pack.

 “Hide this under your cloak. Do you have everything?” she nodded. “Good, we leave now.”

 You walked past the guards leisurely, pretending to return to dinner. Your heart pounded with fear and anticipation as you approached the southern city gates, which were still in repair and loosely guarded.

 Suddenly, a voice sounded from above. “Where do you think you’re going, wife?” Ivar mused as he sat on the rubble of the wall. He shook his head.

 “Run.” You told your maid, as she hoisted the pack over her shoulder. You weren’t going anywhere, but perhaps she could still make it out. Otherwise, she’d be condemned to die.

 Ivar shook his head. “I thought you Christians weren’t allowed to kill, yet you just --------- her to her death.”

 The metal of the knife flashed in the light of the setting sun before it embedded itself in the maid and she fell into the mud, dead.

Tagged: @gcdofchaos​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @punkrocknpearls