#honey folklore

[foodandfolklore]

The Queen Bee ~ Honey and it's associations

Honey is a staple is Kitchen Magic and Witchcraft. Honey jars and sweetener spells have become very popular in recent times. You fill a jar with the tag locks of a person you are aiming the spell towards, and their attitude towards you sweetens. Helpful in times when you may be feuding with a neighbor or have a problem colleague who just refuses to cooperate. Makes them more likely to be agreeable to reasonable requests.

That's also what honey can do in the kitchen. Add it to foods so when consumed by people it'll improve relations, strengthen friendships, and invoke peace. Honey is also heavily associated with Love, Passion, Healing/Health, Happiness, Prosperity, Spirituality and Wisdom.

Ancient cultures all over the world believe honey or bees were connected to the Gods. In Greek mythology, Zeus drank honey as a baby while his mother hid him from Cronus. The muses put the ability to sing in honey. Egyptians believed Bees carried messages from the Sun God Ra, and we've found honey in Egyptian tombs. The Celtics from Europe also had a similar belief that the bees carried messages from Gods; going back and forth between our world and their world.

Greeks, Romans, Norse, and more all considered Honey and Mead (An ale made from honey) to be nectar of the gods. Some cultures believed if you could consume enough of both, it would equate to ambrosia. A food that would grant you God like immortality and eternal youth. Even the book of Exodus could not deny how amazing honey is. As God promised the Israelites to free them from slavery and deliver them to a land flowing with Milk and Honey. Then while in their wandering limbo, God rained down a white snow for food that tasted like honey. This idea of Honey being tied to divine existence and better being is so tightly woven into our cultures. When Canada was trying to get more people to move from Europe to settle, they advertised with the tagline: Canada; a land of Milk and Honey. Honey is also a common term of affection for people in relationships or close family members.

But the Story I'm about to read has little to do with honey directly. It's just probably one of the more well known fairytales that has bees and honey in them. A Brothers Grimm tale, of course. But it showcases a lot of classic aspects of the effects honey can have, such as sweetening the demeaner of those around you, attracting love, and living life happy. Interestingly, this is a case where a character described as a 'Dwarf' does not seem to have a thick beard and lives in mines. Instead, we have a story staring a legitimate Little Person, which I thought was pretty cool.

The Queen Bee

Two kings’ sons once upon a time went into the world to seek their fortunes; but they soon fell into a wasteful foolish way of living, so that they could not return home again. Then their brother, who was a little insignificant dwarf, went out to seek for his brothers: but when he had found them they only laughed at him, to think that he, who was so young and simple, should try to travel through the world, when they, who were so much wiser, had been unable to get on. However, they all set out on their journey together, and came at last to an ant-hill. The two elder brothers would have pulled it down, in order to see how the poor ants in their fright would run about and carry off their eggs. But the little dwarf said, ‘Let the poor things enjoy themselves, I will not suffer you to trouble them.’

So on they went, and came to a lake where many many ducks were swimming about. The two brothers wanted to catch two, and roast them. But the dwarf said, ‘Let the poor things enjoy themselves, you shall not kill them.’ Next they came to a bees’-nest in a hollow tree, and there was so much honey that it ran down the trunk; and the two brothers wanted to light a fire under the tree and kill the bees, so as to get their honey. But the dwarf held them back, and said, ‘Let the pretty insects enjoy themselves, I cannot let you burn them.’

At length the three brothers came to a castle: and as they passed by the stables they saw fine horses standing there, but all were of marble, and no man was to be seen. Then they went through all the rooms, till they came to a door on which were three locks: but in the middle of the door was a wicket, so that they could look into the next room. There they saw a little grey old man sitting at a table; and they called to him once or twice, but he did not hear: however, they called a third time, and then he rose and came out to them.

He said nothing, but took hold of them and led them to a beautiful table covered with all sorts of good things: and when they had eaten and drunk, he showed each of them to a bed-chamber.

The next morning he came to the eldest and took him to a marble table, where there were three tablets, containing an account of the means by which the castle might be disenchanted. The first tablet said: ‘In the wood, under the moss, lie the thousand pearls belonging to the king’s daughter; they must all be found: and if one be missing by set of sun, he who seeks them will be turned into marble.’

The eldest brother set out, and sought for the pearls the whole day: but the evening came, and he had not found the first hundred: so he was turned into stone as the tablet had foretold.

The next day the second brother undertook the task; but he succeeded no better than the first; for he could only find the second hundred of the pearls; and therefore he too was turned into stone.

At last came the little dwarf’s turn; and he looked in the moss; but it was so hard to find the pearls, and the job was so tiresome!—so he sat down upon a stone and cried. And as he sat there, the king of the ants (whose life he had saved) came to help him, with five thousand ants; and it was not long before they had found all the pearls and laid them in a heap.

The second tablet said: ‘The key of the princess’s bed-chamber must be fished up out of the lake.’ And as the dwarf came to the brink of it, he saw the two ducks whose lives he had saved swimming about; and they dived down and soon brought in the key from the bottom.

The third task was the hardest. It was to choose out the youngest and the best of the king’s three daughters. Now they were all beautiful, and all exactly alike: but he was told that the eldest had eaten a piece of sugar, the next some sweet syrup, and the youngest a spoonful of honey; so he was to guess which it was that had eaten the honey.

Then came the queen of the bees, who had been saved by the little dwarf from the fire, and she tried the lips of all three; but at last she sat upon the lips of the one that had eaten the honey: and so the dwarf knew which was the youngest. Thus the spell was broken, and all who had been turned into stones awoke, and took their proper forms. And the dwarf married the youngest and the best of the princesses, and was king after her father’s death; but his two brothers married the other two sisters.

[ghosttrainstation]

Little idea thats been bopping around in my head.

Sebek gets really cold really easily, and other first years take note and help him out. They bring him warm drinks/food, blankets, knitted clothes, etc.... especially during winter and noticing that Diasomnia is probably the coldest dorm being an unheated castle + cloudy. With a bit of angst being the Dia 3 not really noticing due to being more used to and less sensitive to cold in general + sebek trying to appear strong in front of them while struggling. Just assuming he needs to tolerate it and be stronger.

Like imagine

Ace and Deuce expand his tea options and inviting him over for pastries with the tea parties.

Jack inviting to savanaclaw to work out know darn well how warm his dorm is being based on the savanah. Or just on morning runs together.

Epel with the knitted blankets, sweaters, and scarves from the old folks in harveston. Lots of knowledge on how to deal with the cold. Also, warm apple cider anyone.

Ortho chilling around him asking questions while acting like a space heater or bringing him heated blankets to "test out."

Yuu inviting him over to Ramshackle to study despite it being one of the cooler dorms (still warmer than diasomnia) just chilling on the couch in front of the fire place. Books on the table or in hand, blankets wrapped around themselves, and warm mugs of milk with honey and cinnamon. Grim probably just curled up on someone's lap radiating a calming purr.

Maybe luring him into a sleepover that ends with a big cuddle pile to keep warm and ward off nightmares.(the overblots definitely left plenty of trauma on all of them)

Just the first years knowing there's a problem and helping in quiet little ways and showing they care for each other.

[henryshakesmear]

Modern fae must be so pissed at the poor quality of the average store-bought honey

[rrcraft-and-lore]

Soma, the divine plant and drink of the Vedic gods. Confers power, vitality, wisdom, healer of ailments, and bestower of riches.

A divine drink. But, what was it? The stories tell us it was a drink made from honey likely and a plant that had to be distilled.

Soma in fact means in Sanskrit: distill, extract, sprinkle. Sounds like words to brew up a...brew.

Interestingly enough, though, scholars theorize that part of the drink was most definitely honey, and....magic mushrooms. Magic Mushroom wine, in fact.

Now, another interesting tidbit is that the Zoroastrians had a similar drink called Haoma - which scholars also theorize was made along the same lines and had the same benefits.

Does divine honey wine sound familiar? <Mead has entered the chat>

Then there is the Greek Ambrosia, nectar of the gods (NECTAR) that can grant immortality, just like some of the drinks I mentioned from other myths.

Here we get into some actual comparative mythology stuff as the concept of immortality linked to drinks exists in written in the Greek and Vedic with the word ambrosia being semantically linked to amṛta - concept of immortality -- food/drink to reach that path. This makes sense because the words come from the proto indo european: ṇ-mṛ-tós, "un-dying".

Many of the early epics seem to feature some kind of overall divine healing plant or divine drink that empowers its heroes. Why is that?

Simple as people just loved booze and the idea of super magic special booze? "Honey, I'm not drinking...I'm communing with god to make the strongest of our bloodline!!!! I SWEAR."

Or...was it something else? Is there a shared older story beat that all these epics draw from?

Right now? People still figuring that out. But there are _some_ connections. And they're fascinating.

(As I don't drink, you'll have to tell me if getting sloshed on honey wine has given you power, magic, healed you, or let you see god.)

In the Vedic stories, the Artisan and craftsman god, Tvashtr, creates this magical drink, along with Indra's lightning bolt (that myth sound familiar?), the creator of forms, living wombs, and oh, he creates vritra, the three-headed asura dragon that captures and holds hostage the waters of the world and is slain by Indra. Vritra becomes so dangerous and empowered by, you guessed it, drinking all the Soma at Tvashtrs house.

Man found the unlimited rare candy glitch. -_-

[starry-skies-tell-no-lies]

Birdie and their relationship with religion (version 1)

One of the things I really want to dig into is Birdie's relationship with religion. They were raised Roman Catholic, and that always came with some questions.

Then they started to realize that maybe secretly something over the course of time had started to chip away at their faith. They start to think about how if there's a plan for everyone then plans include other people doing bad things and it affecting you, and that can't be right.

It only gets worse when they start to realize that they are a they and don't fit nicely into the binary the church enforces.

For awhile they reject all religion. Yes, it is important to other people, but its only for other people. They don't really find meaning in any of the religions that they've heard of. The closest thing is maybe maybe witchcraft

(but they don't want to work with gods or spirits, and they don't want to cast spells, and slowly they come to realize that what they really like about it is taking time to slow down and think, and sense, and pay attention to the world and what makes you happy.)

They like the little rituals, not because they believe that it will work yet, but because they don't and sometimes 'just in case' is enough of a reason. And because it keeps them present and in the moment. It's just making a reason to actually enjoy life.

So, they decide that religion is allowed to be what they make it. They decide that it matters how they do things sometimes. They decide that sunrises are spiritual, and the stars are holy. They decide that sometimes talking to the moon in their head to thank her for light is a worth while thing to do.

They decide that all the things that catch in their chest and remove just a little bit of weight, the things that make them smile, well they can be religion too.

(and if its all the placebo affect, well the placebo affect works doesn't it? and they are so much happier having decided that things matter)

So they don't really believe in a god or gods, and they don't really believe in spirits, but they decide that they can treat everything like its alive like a stuffed animal. They may know that a tree won't really hear if they apologize when they bump into it, and that the moon will shine whether or not you thank it, but it feels like they have company if they acknowledge it, so they do. (and its just nice to be nice to things so there's that too)

[louthegreatfurrry]

Thirty

30. what would you like to write next year?

I would like to write whatever brings me joy <3

In all seriousness, I really want to figure out how on Earth to balance my PDP infatuation with my original works. I have a fantastic story I want to tell, and it's really hard when my autism has so heavily latched onto PDP. I don't want it to latch onto my original story instead, because PDP means the world to me and I don't want to stop writing it, but I've been struggling with having the two coexist for a year already, so who knows what'll happen!

Considering next year is so very very soon, I guess I can also say I want to write stuff that explores one of the PDP characters, Dust's, powers a little more. I have many great ideas and they all involve rituals and old Norse. teehee <3

Thanks for the ask!!

Ask game here.

[proofread]

gonna try to not say anything else abt the album before i actually hear it when it drops lol but i'm sure i will have many things to complain abt

[thefireflowermoonchild]

Book Recs Based on Taylor Swift Songs

I spend a silly amount of time listening to music and pairing songs with characters. Of course out of all the artists I listen to, Taylor writes the most lyrics that cut my heart into a million tiny pieces perfectly capture the characters of the books I’m reading. The song The Lakes actually is a track I associate with one of my OCs and I love it so much. I had a lot of fun putting this together,…

[dionysianivy]

𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐞

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What is Beltane?

Beltane is a fire festival celebrated on the night of April 30th into May 1st in the Northern Hemisphere, and around October 31st into November 1st in the Southern Hemisphere. It marks the midpoint between the spring equinox and the summer solstice, honoring fertility, passion, and the sacred union between the divine feminine and masculine. Traditionally, it signals the beginning of the light half of the year, a time of growth, abundance, warmth, and blooming life. Beltane celebrates freedom, love, lust, creativity, and the return of life to the natural world, bringing with it new, flourishing beginnings. May 1st is a day of joy and play. After a harsh winter, it becomes a celebration of renewal, of aliveness, and of nature’s wild rebirth.

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The History of Beltane

The name Beltane comes from Old Irish Beltene, meaning "bright fire" or "The fires of Bel". Some people link it to the Celtic god Belenus, a solar and healing deity, while others have drawn comparisons to Baal, a fertility god, though that idea is debated and not widely accepted.

Historically, Beltane was celebrated in Celtic regions, most notably Ireland and Scotland, as a pastoral festival. Bonfires were lit on hilltops, and cattle were driven between two of them to protect them from disease and ensure fertility. People would jump over the flames, not just for luck, but as a way to connect with sacred fire and invoke fertility, health, and courage for the coming summer season.

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Beltane and the Fairy Realm

Beltane is a liminal time, one of the two key points in the year (along with Samhain) when the veil between our world and the Otherworld grows thin. While Samhain leans into the realm of spirits and ancestors, Beltane belongs to the fae.

It is said that on the eve of Beltane, the Fair Folk wander freely, drawn to laughter, music, and offerings left with care. In many old traditions, people avoided disturbing fairy mounds or sacred groves during this time, choosing instead to leave gifts like milk, honey, or sweet bread beneath hawthorn trees. These offerings were meant to honor the fae, invite blessings, and protect against mischief.

Wearing a crown of bluebells on Beltane Eve is said to help one see the faeries, as bluebells are sacred to them. A ring of blooming bluebells is also believed to be a favorite gathering spot for garden faeries.

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Beltane and the Hawthorn Tree

Few trees are more sacred to Beltane than the hawthorn. Often called the “fairy tree” in Irish and Scottish folklore, it is said to guard the entrances to the Otherworld. Blooming right around May 1st, its soft white-pink blossoms carry the energy of protection, love, and the unseen.

In Celtic tradition, hawthorn trees were deeply respected as portals to the realm of the fae. During Beltane, it was common to tie ribbons or small offerings to the branches while making heartfelt wishes, not demands, but gentle hopes whispered like prayers. Damaging or cutting a hawthorn tree, especially during this sacred time, was believed to bring terrible luck or stir the wrath of the Fair Folk.

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The Sacred Fire

Fire is the central symbol of Beltane. The festival’s original name literally refers to Bel’s fires, honoring the sun and invoking purification and fertility.

Traditionally, two large bonfires were lit at Beltane, and people, along with their animals, would walk, dance, or even leap between them for blessings, healing, and protection. In some regions, ashes from the sacred fire were scattered over fields to encourage fertility. Couples, especially newlyweds, often passed hand-in-hand through the smoke as a symbol of unity and renewal.

The fire wasn’t just a ritual, it was a living spirit. Lighting it the old way, through friction rather than matches or lighters, was seen as a sacred act, calling upon the raw elemental force of nature itself.

Even today, many Beltane celebrations honor this ancient custom through bonfires, candle magic, and fire rituals. You don’t need a blaze on a hilltop, even a single flame, lit with intention, can carry the sacred spark of Beltane into your home and heart. :D

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The Maypole

The maypole is one of the most central symbols of modern Beltane celebrations. Though it has roots in English May Day traditions, it’s been beautifully woven into Beltane for its rich symbolism of life, fertility, and union.

The tall, phallic pole rising from the earth represents the God, masculine energy, vitality, and the spark of creation. The colorful ribbons and flowers spiraling around it, often held by dancers weaving in circles, represent the Goddess, the womb, fertility, and abundant life. Together, they form a sacred spiral: a dance of harmony between the masculine and feminine, of earth and sky, movement and stillness.

As dancers move around the maypole, their steps create a living mandala, a spell in motion, tied with laughter and bright ribbons.

The dance itself is a celebration of harmony between forces, of weaving ourselves back into the rhythm of the land.

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Beltane x Handfasting

Beltane is also a favored time for handfasting, a traditional pagan betrothal or wedding ritual where a couple’s hands are bound together with ribbons, cords, or braided threads to symbolize their union. In ancient times, a handfasting ceremony could last for a year and a day, after which the couple had the choice to stay together or part ways. Today, many modern pagans choose Beltane as a powerful and romantic time to make such commitments, drawn to the fertile energy of the season. Handfastings are often held outdoors, in nature, near fire, under blooming trees, or surrounded by loved ones in sacred space. The vows exchanged during these rituals can be traditional or deeply personal, as the magic of the ceremony lies in the heart connection and the intention to walk beside each other, bound by love and commitment.

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Magic Correspondences

Planets: Venus

Season: Midpoint between spring and summer

Element: Fire

Time of the Day: Noon

Tarot Cards: The Strength, The Lovers, The Sun, Three of Cups

Colors: Green, Red, Pink, Yellow, Purple, White, Sky Blue, All Pastel Colors

Herbs: Mint, Rosemary, Thyme, Ivy, Nettle, Sage, Basil, Juniper, Clover, Mugwort

Fruits: Strawberries, Blueberries, Raspberries, Bananas, Lemon, Cherries

Vegetables: Cucumbers, Carrots, Garlic, Lettuce, New Potatoes

Crystals: Emerald, Bloodstone, Rose Quartz, Carnelian, Red Jasper, Green Aventurine, Moonstone, Fire Agate

Runes: Kenaz, Wunjo, Ingwaz

Trees: Hawthorn, Elder, Willow, Birch

Goddesses: Artemis, Diana, Brigid, Aphrodite, Flora, Gaia, Hera, Astarte, Venus, Juno, Freyja, Epona, Bastet

Gods: Pan, Cernunnos, Belenus, Dionysus, The Green Man, Bacchus, Priapus, Faunus, Eros, Ra

Dragons: Sairys, Fafnir

Flowers: Lilac, Bluebells, Daisy, Lilies, Foxglove, Lily of the Valley, Marigold, Tulips, Violets, Primrose, Peony, Poppy, Honeysuckle

Animals: Frogs, Swans, Cows, Deer, Squirrels, Sheep, Ducks, Cats, Bees, Rabbits, Swallows, Leopards, Lynx, Hares

Magical Powers: Love, Sex, Fertility, Protection, Cleansing, Transformation

Symbols: Maypole, Ribbons, Phallus, Bonfire, Flowers, Faeries, Sex, Floral Crowns, Frogs, Celtic Knots

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Activities to do:

🌸 Make flower-shaped biscuits

🌸 Do candle magick

🌸 Find a local hawthorn tree and make a wish to the faeries

🌸 Wear flowers in your clothes, hair, or as bracelets

🌸 Leave offerings for faeries, as this is the season when they’re most present, you can leave them honey, milk, or biscuits

🌸 Go out for a walk in nature and feel the arrival of summer

🌸 Make a fire in the yard and dance around it (only in safe circumstances, of course); if you don’t have resources, you can light candles in your room (again, be careful)

🌸 Eat anything with oats, as it’s associated with Beltane, such as oatmeal, oatcakes, or other oat-based foods

🌸 Do a tarot or rune reading in the morning of Beltane

🌸 Take care of the trees in your yard or nearby by watering them

🌸 Honor all deities associated with fertility

🌸 Practice faerie magick

🌸 On the morning of Beltane, open your windows or door to warmly welcome the energy of the sabbat.

🌸 Make a Beltane magick jar

🌸 Water your flowers

🌸 Listen to music and dance :D

🌸 Celebrate life, fertility, love, and union

🌸 Take care of your garden, plant seeds, clean dried leaves, and prepare for summer

🌸 Make special Beltane treats

🌸 Casting your circles with oats around this time of year is also a good idea, as oats are a traditional Beltane grain for good luck

🌸 Have a picnic with your loved ones, or organize a gathering with food and grilling

🌸 Honor your ancestors

🌸 Place decorations in your garden

🌸 Plant a tree with any intention you want and take care of it

🌸 Draw runes and specific symbols on paper and burn them

🌸 Do self-love activities

🌸 Practice sex or love magick

🌸 Look for hawthorns in your area and honor them with water and offerings for faeries

🌸 Make a maypole

🌸 Collect flowers

🌸 On the morning of May 1st, wash your face with May Dew or natural spring water

🌸 Connect with the fire element

🌸 Read about the fair folk

🌸 Have a bonfire with your loved ones

🌸 Place ribbons or colored thread in trees with intentions for each, you can use color magick to attract what you need in your life right now (pink for love,

🌸 Meditate

🌸 Make flower crowns and wreaths

🌸 Perform spells for fertility, purification, and love

🌸 As this is a day of love, if you are of an appropriate age, comfortable, being sexually active is part of the celebration

🌸 Buy seeds and plant them in your garden, welcoming the growth of new life

🌸 Create a Beltane altar

🌸 If you don't have a maypole you can dance around your favorite tree <3

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Food and Drinks:

Oats in all forms (oatmeal, oat cookies, oat bread, oatcakes, bannock), strawberries, blueberries, honey, whipped cream with oats, strawberry biscuits, oat and honey bread, blackberry pie, lavender cake, cheese (including Swiss), seasonal potato dishes, fresh fruit salads, tomato and cucumber salads, dairy or plant-based milks, vanilla-flavoured foods, ice cream, grilled food, BBQ, spicy dishes to honor the fire element, May Day wine, white wine, regular wine (with a strawberry placed at the bottom of the glass if you wish), tarts with cheese, mayonnaise.

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[lalunearts]

well i was supposed to be getting homework done, but i zoned out and i have a clean desk but no reading of folklore has been done

[buriedpentacles]

Low-Energy Ways to Work with Nature and her Spirits:

Look outside. That's it - just open the curtains and see the sunlight, find the trees outside your window and watch the birds.

Put on a documentary or youtube video about a cool animal, ecology, the natural world etc

Talk to nature - whisper, talk out loud, say it in your head - just talk. Compliment pretty flowers, chat about how creepy but cool you think spiders are, picture light dancing off morning dew.

Trace the shapes of leaves/flowers/animals etc on your bed sheets or skin - try to see how many different shapes make up the natural world, find the patterns and fractals within them

Learn the name of one new local plant a week! Just one a week! If you have the energy, research a little about their ecology, history or medicinal uses

Make a flower crown/daisy chain/leaf crown

Take up nature photography - you don't need a fancy camera, jsut your phone!

Collect some shells/rocks/bones etc!

Just sit outside! can be just outside your front door, next to an open window, or in the woods (whatever you can manage)

Take your daily activities outside!! Read in the garden, eat your breakfast under the sun etc

Create art from nature - paint rocks, press flowers, create patterns using feathers or leaves as paintbrushes/stamps

Cloud watching!

More High Energy Activities:

Go for a walk or hike outside and take some offerings. Introduce yourself to the trees and plants and streams and leave them a gift.

If there's one nearby, visit a local farmer's market and buy some local produce; honey, meat, vegetables, fruit, etc! Chat to the sellers and talk about their practices and produce

Do a small spell outside! Find a secluded, comfortable spot and invite the spirits to observe your spellwork - let them get used to your energy and way of working

Make a small diary of your time outside! Don't worry about filling it in regularly, just whenever you have the energy! Write down when the bees start coming out or leaves return after winter. What plants stay during the cold season?

Research local plants and come up with your own correspondences based on their ecology/medicinal use/folklore etc

Go on a walk to see what plants and animals exist in your area! Research them - are they native? Invasive? What is their ecology? Medicinal uses? Even the most urban areas tend to have some wildlife!

Join a local facebook group for birdwatching!

Research your area and figure out what plants or animals would be native, or used to live there - create artwork or something to honour and remember them

Research gardening groups nearby - some cities will have volunteer gardening projects or local groups that help maintain natural spaces! See if any would be feasible for you to join and get out there

Join a local allotment or community garden if you have the means - do some weeding, plant some tomatoes, say hello to the coal tits nesting in the old shed!

If you have the means - invest in a hardy houseplant! Name it, research its care and talk to it! Make a ritual out of watering and talking to it.

Take an online ecology course! Free courses exist and can be super interesting!

Watch youtube videos on a favourite taxa and make notes - build your own knowledge at a pace you're comfortable with on the things you're interested in!

Invite some nature spirits in for a meal - cook something you enjoy and set the table (if you can) for the spirits. Enjoy a meal with them.

Please add any suggestions you have below and I can add them! Everyone has unique energy levels and capabilities, but I hope that I've given people a quick idea of things they can do, if they want!

[auroralwriting]

𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯

pairing: finnick odair x reader

summary: at a lavish capitol party, you reunite with finnick odair—the victor you've loved in secret, the one who knows you like no one else ever could

it is recommended you listen to this song while reading for best immersion

warnings: smut smut smut! dni if you are a minor, vague mentions of finnick being used sexually by the capitol

: ̗̀➛ masterlist

The lights of Capitol parties blind you. The shining, shimmering hues reflecting off the glass and the polished floor would be overwhelming to anyone from the Districts who wasn’t used to this sort of lavish lifestyle. The music was enchanting. The sort of music you’d envision in your wildest dreams.

You find him when the light turns honey-thick. The world burns orange, soft as silk, and Finnick Odair leans against the railing like he owns the place. Of course he does.

He’s all salt-kissed and golden brown, the very hue of dusk and desire. Muscles lean, taut as ropes on a sailboat, shadows curling like fingers across the planes of him. His eyes catch on you—sea-glass green, sharp, knowing. His flowing, white shirt and deep brown pants remind you of sailors you’d imagine from folklore stories passed down through the generations. 

He sees you before you’re ready for it.

Leaning into the curve of the marble archway, you think you’re part of the scenery, just another piece of decoration in a party too grand for its own good. But Finnick’s gaze slices through the glitter and music like a knife. His lips curve, slow and knowing. It’s the kind of smile that feels like it was carved just for you.

And gods, it hits you like the tide. That smile. Like he’s already undressed you in his mind, memorized the way you move, the sound you make when you sigh his name. There’s a magnetic pull in that gaze, a gravity that wraps around your ribcage and tugs.

You shouldn’t look at him like this. Not here. Not in the Capitol, where everything you do is watched, weighed, recorded in the minds of people who love their victors too much and not at all. You shouldn’t. You know the rules of this place. What it means to want in the Capitol. But Finnick’s never played by rules unless he’s breaking them with elegance.

You make your way towards him. Because how could you not?

The glow catches on his cheekbones, gilds the line of his throat. His shirt billows slightly in the artificial breeze, hinting at the strength underneath. He looks like he stepped out of a dream, an old story told by candlelight, a sailor who wandered too close to the shore and caught the eye of a god. It’s hard to say, in this scenario, who was the sailor and who was the god. 

He raised a glass to you—champagne, no doubt, something delicate and expensive—and tips it ever so slightly in your direction. His eyes never left yours. It’s a challenge. An invitation. A warning. You took the bait.

Your heels echoed against the marble as you crossed the floor, weaving through drunken elites and the sharp scent of Capitol perfume. The air hummed with electricity, the kind that exists between storm clouds and waves. When you reached him, he said nothing. Just watched.

You stopped beside him, hands on the cool railing, gaze fixed out over the cityscape. The skyline sparkles like it’s been dipped in jewels. “You always haunt the edges of parties like this?” you ask, voice soft, the kind meant only for him.

His smile deepened, eyeing you in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Only when I’m waiting for something.”

“Or someone,” you said.

He chuckled low in his throat. “Touché.”

There’s a pause, filled only by music, laughter and voices, and the distant clinking of glasses. You feel him lean in slightly, just enough for his shoulder to brush yours. “You look out of place here,” he murmured.

You glance at him sideways. “So do you.”

He smirked. “That’s the trick, isn’t it? Make them believe you belong until they forget where you came from.”

Your breath caught. “Do you ever forget?” you asked.

He turned to you fully then, the city lights catching in the green of his eyes. “Not for a second.” It’s the truth. You felt it in your bones. And suddenly, the Capitol didn’t exist. The music faded. The people vanished. There’s only the warmth of his body next to yours and the steady rhythm of his voice, like waves brushing against shore.

“Come with me,” he said, barely above a whisper. You don’t ask where. You just follow.

You let your eyes trail over him, slowly now as he guides you through the marbled halls. The sea-slicked hair. The shirt unbuttoned just enough to hint at collarbones and the edge of a secret. His skin kissed by sun and storm, that warm, golden brown of driftwood and firelight. He’s a thousand stories wrapped in silk. Dangerous. Achingly beautiful.

Once you were far enough from the party, far enough from the prying eyes of the Capitol’s nosey citizens, Finnick delicately pushed you against the wall. “When I said “out of place”, I meant ethereal.” His voice is hushed, and not because he’s worried about anyone hearing. Niot when he had a stolen, secret moment with you. 

“I could say the same for you,” you let your fingers dance over the frill of his shirt, tracing the lines and edges like they were a puzzle you were piecing together. His finger softly caught under your chin, raising it so your eyes met his sea-green ones once more.

“You’re dressed like royalty,” Finnick commented. His adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke, his pupils blown and hazy. His tongue slowly emerged to wet his lips ever so slightly. “You’re dressed like a princess.”

You smiled softly. “Would that make you my prince?”

“Far from it,” Finnick chuckled, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb softly rubbed over your cheekbone. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget this. The way you look right now. I don’t think I could ever forget this in my life.” His words hold so much weight that you believe him fully without a doubt. You never questioned his loyalty to you.

Your lips parted slightly, and Finnick’s gaze dropped, lingering there. His thumb still grazed your cheekbone, slow and reverent, as if he was afraid you’d vanish. “I thought nothing in the Capitol felt real,” you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

He exhales, a sound like surrender. “You do.”

Your heart stuttered. You couldn’t tell if it’s the wine you’d had or the way he said it, like it hurt to admit. His forehead pressed gently to yours, and for a moment, the world held still. The golden light pools in the hallway, casting shadows that swayed across your skin, across his chest. The distance between your mouths is a breath, a heartbeat, a choice.

He made it for you.

Finnick kissed you like he was afraid it was the last time. Like you were something rare he’d been given just this once, and he didn’t intend to waste a second of it. It’s not rushed. It’s not showy. It’s soft, velvet-soft, and far too honest. His lips moved against yours with a gentleness you didn’t know he possessed, and when his fingers slipped from your cheek to your neck, to your waist, you melted into him without hesitation. The kiss deepens. Not frantic. Not needy. Just hungry in that quiet, aching way, like he’s been starving for something more than touch.

When you finally part, breathless, your hands rest against the center of his chest. His heart is thundering beneath your palms.

“No one can know,” Finnick mumbled, his touch both gentle yet tight, as if he couldn’t fathom letting you go. “No one can know that I have you. No one can know I’m yours.”

You shake your head. “No one will. It’s just us. Always and forever, just you and me.”

He didn’t waste another second. He took your hand again, threading his fingers through yours. His hands engulfed your own, but it felt so right, so safe, so warm. 

He untied the sash at your waist with a tenderness that shouldn’t have existed in a place like the Capitol. Every inch he revealed, he studied like scripture, observed like a painting, worshiped like prayer. And when you returned the favor, pulling at the buttons of his shirt, brushing your fingertips down the ridges of his stomach, he trembled just once beneath your touch. He kissed you again. Slow, deep, deliberate.

His hand gently squeezed down from your waist, hooking beneath the plush skin behind your knee. He gently raised your leg, wrapping it around his waist, pushing himself impossibly closer to you. Your hands threaded through his bronzey hair, scratching softly at his scalp. 

He groaned softly at the touch, low and guttural, like it had been pulled from somewhere buried deep inside him. His mouth left yours only to travel lower—your jaw, your neck, the sensitive hollow just beneath your ear. Each kiss was unhurried, reverent, like he was trying to memorize you through taste and touch alone. Maybe he was.

“You’re…” he started, but the words caught in his throat. He didn’t finish the sentence. Maybe he didn’t have to.

The leg he held around his waist tightened instinctively as he pressed you harder against the cool marble wall, a sharp contrast to the fire building between you. His breath came faster, warm against your collarbone as he hovered there, waiting. Not for permission—he could read your body well enough to know it was already his—it always was and will be—but for something else. A sign. A moment. A beat in the symphony where everything aligned.

Your forehead touched his, your noses brushing, and in the golden hush between your exhales, you whispered, “I love you.”

The shift in him was electric. Still careful, always careful, but deeper now, his movements more urgent, more sure. Like he’d been holding back the tide and finally let it crash. His hands explored you like a man mapping unfamiliar terrain, slow at first, then boldly, reverently, like every inch of you answered some long-burning question.

The sounds between you grew softer and heavier. Breaths, gasps, the whisper of silk, the creak of the wall behind you. Time stretched out and folded in on itself, and nothing existed outside of the heat curling through your core and the way he moved like he knew your body already, like it had been calling for him long before tonight.

You couldn’t remember the last time Finnick had the chance to get his hands on you, or you him. Your time in the Capitol was limited, and you were separated by Districts. These rare chances were little wrinkles in time you wished to keep forever. To freeze time to be with him longer.

Your dress was bunched up around your hips, one of his hands squeezing and caressing the skin there like he was memorizing it. The thought of someone walking by didn’t even cross your mind. Your thoughts were solely focused on Finnick and Finnick only. After all, it was hard not to keep your attention on him when he looked the way he did, styled to perfection.

His name tumbled from your lips in a breathy whisper that made his grip tighten ever so slightly. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, mouthing at your skin with a hunger he didn’t bother to hide anymore. “I missed you,” he breathed, and it wasn’t a line. It wasn’t part of a game. It was truth, stripped bare and trembling almost like you were right there in that hallway.

His fingers dug into your thigh, the other hand braced above your head, steadying you both against the cool marble. You clung to him, arms looped around his shoulders, nails dragging lightly down the curve of his back, leaving promises in their wake. You could feel the tension in him, the restraint barely holding him together. It wasn’t just lust. It never had been. You were something else to him. Something dangerous. Something safe.

Your fingers made quick, nimble work of undoing his pants, just enough so he could take himself out. Your eyes, however, never left his face. Because it wasn’t about that, it was fully about him. He must’ve felt the same; his eyes bore holes into your face. He moved with precision, knowing full well where to move and how to do it.

There was no foreplay for this moment. Your time apart was enough to make your desire palpable whenever you saw each other again. Finnick pushed in, the two of you making your own sets of strangled noises at the feeling. Relief, pleasure.

“I love you, I love you,” Finnick mumbled, taking your face in his hands like you were a glass sculpture. You pressed a kiss onto his lips, a silent echo of his words.

Finnick’s hands dropped to your hips, holding you up so he had better access to thrust up into you. Your arms draped around his neck, keeping yourself propped up. Your feet were just off the ground, your toes barely grazing the ground, but you paid no mind to that.

Your bodies moved in tandem, a rhythm built not just from want but from knowing—knowing the shape of each other’s pain, the stretch of absence, the cruel hand of distance that always pulled you apart too soon. This was more than just a reunion. It was a reclamation.

Finnick's grip was tight enough to bruise, and you welcomed it, needed the reminder that he was real, that this was real. That for however long this moment lasted, he was yours, and you were his. Even when separated by Districts, you would always belong to each other, and these stolen moments were just proof. A gentle reminder of your desire and passion. His mouth found yours again in a kiss that was all heat and desperation, teeth and tongue and the soft, broken sound he made when your walls clenched around him.

He thrust harder, deeper, and you gasped against his lips. “God,” he breathed, “you always feel like home.” You wanted to cry at that. Because you knew what home meant for someone like Finnick, something stolen, something mourned. And yet, here he was, making one out of you.

Your hands slid down his back, fingers curling into the fabric of his half-removed shirt as your bodies rocked together. He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes squeezed shut like the feeling was too much—too good, too close, too honest.

“I don’t care how long we’re apart,” he said, voice cracking, “I don’t care what they make us do. This—you—you’re the only real thing I have left. You’re everything. You’re my world and my stars. I'll do anything for you. I'll do anything to protect you, to keep you safe.”

You kissed the words off his mouth, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. His thrusts grew more erratic, deeper, needier, the kind of pace that said he didn’t want to finish, didn’t want this to end. You held him tighter, burying your face in his neck, breathing in the salt and sweat and soft remnants of expensive Capitol cologne.

The moment shattered around you in heat and light, a white-hot surge that stole the air from your lungs as you came, clenching around him, taking him with you. He groaned your name, so wrecked it sounded like prayer, and spilled into you, his hips stuttering as he held you impossibly close.

Then silence. Not awkward, not empty, but full. Like the hush after a storm.

Your legs trembled around him, his body still flush with yours. Neither of you moved, unwilling to let go, unwilling to believe the night might already be over. Too soon. Not enough time together. You never got enough time together.

"Just love me. That's all I need from you."

His fingers brushed your cheek, curling a stray piece of hair behind your ear. He looked at you like he was memorizing the exact way your lashes touched your skin, the way your lips curved even when you were trying not to cry. Because even when you cried, you were still the most beautiful thing Panem had to offer. At least, to him.

“I’ll find a way back to you,” he whispered.

You smiled faintly. “You always do.”

[c0wboylik3m3]

don't worry guys, it's from a male's perspective

Taylor Swift gayest comments in MySpace Part 3

our baby dyke in High school cute af

[exhaustedgayjew]

#vent okay but can we talk about the awkward silence and the way leftists get uncomfortable when i mention anything to do with my (((culture))) like yes im making challah, yes i lit candles... why does that bother you so much? why do leftists get so uncomfortable when i talk about my experience being jewish????? (its rhetorical because unfortunately i know why) like im in a gc with around 5 leftists (non-jewish ofc) and quite literally every time ive mentioned something like rugelach and they asked what it is, or i said i was making challah and they asked what is is and ive told them, or them talking ab golems in fantasy and me saying hey those are from jewish folklore, they literally every single time either dont say anything or change the subject.

tbh the ignoring honestly just feels worse than blatant antisemitism, like damn sorry for existing as a jewish person!!!! the indirect silent antisemitism is what pisses me off the most. and its not like them not knowing my cultural dishes or history is what bothers me, im more than happy to educate ppl! its the fact that they'll be, for over an hour non-stop, talking in the gc and then when i mention something to do with being jewish, the entire gc will go dead silent and not talk till someone changes the subject or they'll skip over my msg!!! being jewish and trying to exist in non-jewish spaces is so fucking hard and i am tired!!!!!!!

(this is also why dating as a young person is so fucking scary cause literally everyone in every political side hates jews and i feel like im only ever going to feel 100% safe in a jewish relationship but i also live in an area where i am 99% sure my family are the only jews and its sooooo fucking isolating. and also the nearest shul [which is quite far away btw like i have to train for over 2 hours to get there] only has old people or like extremely young people, even on holidays!!! i even went there for rosh hashanah and not even one njb my age!!!! [also all the honey cake was gone by the time i got through talking to everyone who greeted me and im still upset ngl] i also had to change unis cause the only uni nearby was flying the palestine flag everywhere and saying genuinely the most awful fucking things ab jews and israel(is) and i couldnt go there without having a panic attack so now im doing online uni and i literally never leave my house and i feel like im going a little insane #nothavingagoodtime)

#iamnotproofreadingthiscauseiamtiredandhungryandmildlyupset

thank u for coming to my ted talk

[seneon]

ALL THAT MATTERS ──── suna rintarou × figure skater¡reader. for @heartkaji my pretty pink baobei 🖤

suna rintarou serves as the middle blocker of inarizaki high’s volleyball team. blessed with visuals that seemed to be favoured by the fox spirits of japanese folklore.

it was as if they moulded him from their fingers to create a man so perfect that all the women in inarizaki high fawned over him.

but none of that matters to him, for rintarou couldn’t care less about the cheap attention from anyone else all around him. why would he care when he already has a gorgeous woman who currently skates her routine on ice?

“look at my girl, she’s so beautiful, isn’t she?” he tells the twins for what seems like the umpteenth time as the three of them watch your figure gliding across the ice.

rintarou has stupid and silly hearts in his eyes as you carried your soul with grace. it's quite pathetic, actually— the way he has seen you figure skate on ice a million times ever since he was a child yet he never fails to fall in love with you all over again.

never did he ever dared to put his mind into the thoughts of him being connected to you in some way. yet here he is, present as your boyfriend who is absolutely sickeningly smitten with you that it makes the miya twins grimace in nothing but pure disgust.

tchaikovsky played in the speakers of the arena. the music is ever so elegant and soft that it creates an atmosphere beautiful. but in rintarou’s foxy eyes, you were the one that stands out as a swan so tantalising and simply so alluring.

it tugs at his heartstrings that no matter how many times he watches you skate after his volleyball practices, he forgets all about his game strategies. all on his mind is you, you, and absolutely only you.

you are all that matters to him.

when the music ended, you skated off the ice and immediately put on the skate guards to cover the blade. upon finishing the covering of your blades, you looked up to see rintarou already waiting for you at the bench next to you, holding up a bottle of your favourite drink.

“hey pretty.”

a smile carved itself at the corner of your lips at the sight of your boyfriend. without taking off your skates, you walked over to him in a funny way and buried yourself in his arms, relishing in the feeling of his broad body against your delicate one.

“hi rin,” you responded with a smile as he chuckled at your silly walk and placed a chaste kiss at the top of your head. after holding you for a while, he twisted open the bottle and gently held it to your lips.

“you are absolutely fucking gorgeous on ice again. and will always be,” rintarou praises, and his voice filled with so much honey and sweet affection that it made your insides twist at his simple praise.

your fingers curled around the bottle to drink for yourself before you let out a content hum. “thank you rin. you flatter me too much.”

he grins down at you, smile almost fox-like you swore he came from the forests a few centuries old. it was so enchanting that you almost forgot his friends followed him here today.

not like they matter to you, for whenever rintarou is around to pamper you like a deserving princess after your figure skating training, he is all that mattered to you.

“now, shall we eat out, order takeout, or i eat you out?”

“rin!” you flushed red and slapped his arm, emitting a roar of laughter before he decided on his own question, tucking a strand of hair behind your ears to admire the red that paints your cheeks a field of roses.

gosh, he is so in love with you.

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[lay-z]

Another Johnny blurb :) A bit of folklore in this.

After barely surviving and recovering from a gunshot to the head by Makarov, Johnny is sent on medical leave, back to live on his elderly parents' farm in Scotland.

Now blind in his left eye and with the decline of his hearing, he keeps himself busy as best as he can helps taking care of the farm animals around, tends to the large pond in the spacious backyard and catches up with some old friends.

However, now suffering from nervous anxiety, Johnny picks up hiking as his new favourite pastime, needing to get away from the hubbub of his hovering family more than ever; his injury causing him excruciating headaches and, if he's particularly unlucky, panic attacks.

He takes his new journal on his hikes, buys a few more pencils (in case one breaks while he's out again), and finds the most bonnie places to catch a break and either sketch away or write down his memories because he doesn't quite trust his brain anymore.

One day, after hiking down a new path he found on a yellowed map from his late gran'da, Johnny finds a dale straight out of a fairytale.

Honey-bright rays of sunshine break through the surrounding treetops of willows, rowans, and copper beeches, shrouding the scenery in a myriad of shades of yellow and green while the local fauna goes about its merry day, ignoring Johnny like he's just another lost intruder stumbling upon the place.

And Johnny feels drawn to the overflowing creek after the earlier summer downpour, finds a cluster of moss-covered rocks, and decides to take a well-deserved break until his good right eye catches sight of someone already occupying the spot.

A woman clad in something he can only describe as... historical. The dress she wears is dripping with water, her wet hair sticking to her equally dewy skin, an aura of mystery and sorrow surrounding her as she sits there all by herself.

"Oi, miss? Ye shouldnae be around here by yerself. Ye need help find yer way back?"

You glance at him over your shoulder, and Johnny bristles, pulled forward, and screamed at to run by his most primal instincts simultaneously. At first, he doesn't even notice the sudden eerie silence surrounding him, blames it on his bad ears, but there is no more chirping and bird songs only the trickling of the nearby stream gently rushing in his ears.

Steamin' Jesus, she's beautiful. Hauntingly breathtaking that one. A wee bit strange perhaps, he thinks, but

"Death clings to ye, lad," you tell him matter-of-factly, tilting your head as you regard him with murky yet curious eyes, "and he'll come fer ye again."

Your nonchalant remark, spoken so sweetly, nearly knocks him onto his knees like a physical blow. The grip on his leatherbound journal tightens, knuckles whitening as he takes panting breaths to rid himself of the bile suddenly rising in his throat.

It's then he knows what you are, and while Johnny has lost his youthful wonder and believe of his own countries folklore, he can't help but believe that you must be a bean-nighe, a washerwoman.

An omen of death.

"N-no," Johnny croaks out, eyes widening with disbelief and fear before shaking his head so harshly, it worsens the headache already sneaking up on him. "Tha's not true! Tha's not Tha's not possible. I'm home! I'm safe here!"

Then, the softest smile lifts the corner of your mouth, and your buried maternal instinct makes you want to reach out to soothe his worries while he's already scrambling clumsily to get a grip.

"You'll see, sweet man," you snicker, standing up to watch him run, leaving your valley. "We will meet again."

And how was Johnny supposed to know that you simply wanted tell him about missing Simon's phone call? He didn't even give you a chance to clarify.

Ghoap x spirit!Reader ? Or perhaps I should make her a pixie :)