#summer solstice is supposed to be midsummer

[flameraven]

Since it's the winter solstice... does it bother anyone else that modern society considers this the FIRST day of winter when for centuries it was much more sensibly considered Midwinter? I think about this every year and it always bugs me.

[benjamikaela]

This is an older piece, but I just realised I never posted it here! It's inspired by Finnish legends and superstitions around midsummer. Virvatuli or aarnivalkea are mysterious floating blue flames said to be a sign of buried treasure–or a spirit leading you astray...

Hyvää Juhannusta!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Magic-Related Vocabulary

for your next poem/story

Amulet: An object worn, carried or placed to guard against negativity or other vibrations. A protective object.

Astral Projection: The practice of separating the consciousness from the physical body so that the former may move about unhindered by time, space or gravity.

Bane: A poison; that which destroys life. "Henbane" is poisonous to hens.

Banish: To drive away evil, negativity or spirits.

Beltane: An ancient folk-festival day observed by Witches that celebrates the fully blossomed spring. April 30 or May 1.

Censer: A vessel of metal or earthenware in which incense is burned. An incense burner.

Chaplet: A garland or wreath of flowers or leaves worn on the head, as in the chaplets given to classical Greek heroes as symbols of honor.

Clairvoyance: Literally "clear seeing." The ability to perceive facts, events and other data by other than the five "normal" senses, unaided by tools.

Curse: A concentration of negative and destructive energy, deliberately formed and directed toward a person, place or thing.

Divination: The art of finding things out through means other than the five senses, using tools such as tarot cards, crystal balls, and so on.

Enchant: "Sing to." Magically speaking, a procedure whereby herbs are aligned with your magical need prior to their use.

Evil Eye, The: Supposed glance capable of causing great harm or fear, once almost universally feared.

Fascination: The art of placing other people under one's power through sounds, gazes, colors, etc.

Hex: An evil spell; a curse.

Incubus: A male demon or spirit which was believed to sexually tempt and abuse women; the succubus was the corresponding female demon.

Infusion: An herbal tea.

Lughnasadh: An old harvest festival celebrated on August 1st or 2nd in Europe, reverencing the abundant (harvested) fruits of the Earth. It is still observed by Wicca.

Magic: The practice of causing needed change through the use of powers as yet undefined and unaccepted by science.

Magic Circle: A ritually-created circle (or sphere) that offers protection to the magician during magical rites.

Magician: A person of either sex who practices magic.

Magus: A magician.

Midsummer: The Summer Solstice, usually on or near June 21st, one of the Wiccan festival days and an excellent time to practice magic.

Pendulum: A tool of divination which consists of a heavy object suspended from a string or cord. The end of the cord is held between the thumb and forefinger; questions are asked and their answers divided by the movements of the pendulum.

Pentagram: A five-pointed star which has been used in magic for centuries. Highly symbolic, it is also a protective device.

Poppet: A small doll made of various substances to influence a person's fife. In herb magic, either a carved root or a cloth image stuffed with herbs. The use of poppets is known as "image magic."

Power Hand, The: The hand you write with; the dominant hand. This is a magically potent hand.

Samhain: An ancient festival day marking the beginning of winter. Also known as "Halloween" and All Hallows Eve. It is observed by Wicca with religious ceremonies.

Scry: To gaze into a pool of ink, fire, crystal ball, etc. to awaken and summon psychic powers.

Spell: A magical rite.

Talisman: An object worn or carried to attract a specific influence, such as love, luck, money, health; as opposed to an amulet which keeps forces from its bearer.

Wicca: A contemporary religion with spiritual roots in prehistory that worships the life-force of the universe as personified as a God and Goddess. It is sometimes erroneously referred to as "witchcraft."

Witch Bottle: A bottle or jar containing herbs, pins, shards of glass and other objects, designed to protect a person or area from evil and curses. Usually buried or placed in a window.

Witchcraft: The practice of natural magic, as that of herbs, stones, and candles. Spell-casting. Still used by some to refer to the religion of Wicca.

Wort: An old word meaning "herb." Mugwort preserves the term.

Excerpt from Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs More: Word Lists ⚜ Esoteric Vocabulary ⚜ On Magic

[edennill-archived]

Utúlie'n Aurë!

A little late in the day to say this, but today (June 21st, or the Summer Solstice/Midsummer's Day) is the date the Fifth Battle of Beleriand began.

(-- not the Nirnaeth, yet; it would only be called that from the moment things began to go wrong, that is on June 24th, but I shall keep you updated)

I do not suppose this calls for a celebration but the Les Mis fandom does do this...

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

how do you know how bright you shine, unless the darkness has touched you?

elriel month prompt five: darkness lets the light shine

“Where do we go, once we die?”

Azriel’s eyebrows shot toward his hairline. The question had come out of nowhere, surprising him in the way only Elain possibly could. The juxtaposition of her morbid question posed against the truly wholesome surroundings they currently lay within also did not go unnoticed. 

It was mere weeks before the Summer Solstice, the balmy days growing longer and warmer making way for the hottest season. Enamoured by Elain’s genuine excitement for the arrival of midsummer, he had told her there was a little place he had wanted to take her one day whilst they were enjoying tea in her garden. He’d seen her quiet intrigue and immediately made the arrangements. 

Just four days later, Azriel had told Elain to await him in her rose garden at the river house, which she had done so, looking positively stunning adorned in one of her jewel coloured dresses. Gathering her in his arms, Azriel had flown Elain out toward the eastern outskirts of Velaris, to a field of wildflowers he’d soared over countless times on his way to the Steppes.

The valley was isolated, not another soul to be found for miles, and the long grass of the sloped plain danced in the wind as clumps of colourful wildflowers dotted its façade. 

Elain had silently stared in awe as they flew over the secluded glade, Azriel soundlessly landing them within it moments later.

Sure, he could have winnowed, but how else could he have relished in hours of having Elain held in his arms, the smooth pass of her fingers playing in the short hair at his neck. He may have taken a slightly longer route to get there, his wings only beating at not even half their usual speed, languidly sailing them through the warm breeze under the guise of not wanting to ruffle her hair or clothes too much.

As soon as Azriel had reluctantly placed Elain on her feet, she had promptly hitched her skirts in a fist and was immediately wandering about the valley, picking an array of wildflowers or simply stopping to inspect others. 

She had fashioned a crown of sorts out of some of the flowers she had picked, her lithe fingers braiding the stems skilfully as they sat knee to knee in the tall grass, basking in warm sun.

Resting the crown atop his head with a satisfied smile, she’d then scanned his face as if she wished to memorize it, before nodding just once, and proceeded to recline in the tall grass. Folding her hands over her stomach and crossing her ankles, she’d made herself comfortable, Azriel soon following suit and stretching out on his back beside her. 

So, when she had voiced her query about a subject so grim, she had certainly caught him off guard. Of course, he could appreciate that her mind was indeed diverse— other, even— so it made sense she contemplated such things that those without the power of Sight often wouldn’t. He knew her visions spoke to her in mysterious ways, the oracular nature of them perhaps awakening dark thoughts she may not have previously contemplated too closely.

Generally, the Fae abhorred talking about death and the afterlife. For long-lived creatures such as themselves, it often struck him as odd that they would avoid the topic of death as vehemently as they did.

It wasn’t taboo, per se, but it was wildly unpopular conversation material and generally regarded as morbid and inappropriate. Funny, where the fae decided to draw their lines.

He wasn’t sure if the attitude of the Fae toward the topic was born from a sense of arrogance, believing they were indeed the all-mighty, ever-enduring creatures that were impossible to kill that featured in the tales humans told their young, or, alternatively, if it simply stemmed from fear. He surmised that arguments could be made for both.

Azriel supposed, as a former human, mortality was a more commonplace thought for Elain. And besides, she didn’t shy away from discussing difficult topics. At least not with him, not lately. Her penchant to open such conversations and discuss them for hours with candour had become a favourite pastime of his.

The hard ground pressed into his back, the blades of grass tickling his wings as the breeze tousled his hair. One of his shadows braved the sunshine and darted out to twine lazily in Elain’s hair beside him.

“Why do you ask?” 

Instead of answering, he’d decided to prompt her further, unsure where her train of thought was headed. Seeking further explanation seemed the safest route before delving headfirst into such heavy discussion.

“Well, you- we, all live for so long now. As a human, we believed we would spend the afterlife in heaven to live out eternity in everlasting peace. Away from the threat of the fae above the wall,” a corner of mouth tugged up at the irony before she continued, “but, when your life spans for hundreds or even thousands of years… well, I suppose- where would you possibly want to go, after all that?”

Azriel paused, thinking on Elain’s question. Only to a former human would the thought occur that an immortal life may be enough. Humans were granted only a fraction of what the Fae may have, and yet they still greedily wanted more. Yes humans, with their seventy, eighty, maybe ninety-year lifespans— if they were lucky— seemed much more content with that. 

“After a faeries death, it is said they pass into the Land of Milk and Honey,” he supplied simply.

He heard Elain shift beside him. “And what is that, exactly? Is it like heaven?”

“It is our promised land. The souls of the worthy are sent to that paradise to enjoy the spoils of abundance and endless comforts. Infinite bounties and peace.”

Elain paused again, before continuing. “And how does that differ from what we have now?”

Azriel blinked. He supposed she was right. The life they were fortunate enough to lead, was extremely abundant. It is true, it had not always been this way for all of them. Not him, certainly not Cassian, and even the Archerons had lived in impoverishment for years before Feyre was taken above the wall. But now, they wanted for nothing.

Truly, they were beyond comfortable and happy.

“I suppose, any stress or anguish dissipates there too.”

Elain hummed, sinking back into quiet contemplation. She stared up at the sky, the clouds lazily drifting by in the breeze making shapes that depicted nothing at all.

“Where do you think I’ll end up?”

Azriel snapped his head toward her, the grass beneath him poking into the side of his face as he stared over at Elian.

Her face was still tilted up toward the sky, her profile lovely and cheeks flushed from the warm sun. But her brow was furrowed slightly, as much dissatisfaction as Elain’s pleasant countenance would allow to show in a moment like this.

Was she anxious about her mortality? Had she Seen something of concern? His shadows skittered restlessly in the shelter his wings provided from the sun.

“Well, I suppose that would be up to you.”

Elain blinked slowly before rolling over onto her side to face him fully, her legs curling up toward her belly, her bare feet skimming the tunic of his leathers. Her slippers lay discarded a few meters away, having kicked them off earlier, sinking her toes into the soft grass.

“How so?”

Turning his face back toward the heavens he inhaled slowly before answering her.

“Well, how do you feel? Inside- in your soul? Do you feel more human, or fae?”

Her eyebrows twitched as his question registered in her mind. “Are you saying I would get a choice? When the time comes?”

He didn’t want to think about a world without Elain Archeron in it. He hoped he would be long gone before that day came.

“I don’t see why not.”

A little contemplative noise drifted from her throat. She was silent for several moments before her next question bubbled from her lips.

“What do the Illyrians believe? Where do they think they go?”

Azriel’s expression flickered, his eyes glazing over at the mention of his heritage.

“The Illyrians are a war mongering race whose beliefs reflect as such. They say that if you die an honourable death during battle, you are worthy of spending the afterlife with Enalius and his battalion, feasting and drinking with all the greatest warriors in Epidamnos’ golden palace, forever more.”

Again, Elain went silent, twisting her face toward the clear blue sky once more. The lines of her face were contemplative, thoughtful.

“So then, you would have a choice too. Illyrian, or fae.”

She spoke of such things so simply, so matter-of-factly. As if she were merely commenting on the weather. How her sunny disposition managed to innocently seep into a topic as dark and morose as death and discuss it so simply was a true testament to Elain’s innate goodness.

“By those standards, I suppose you’d be correct.”

She turned to him again, poking him in the arm with a slender finger.

“Well? Would you choose the fae afterlife? Or the fancy Illyrian one?”

Her doe eyes were wide, eager, bright in the afternoon sun. Not a hint of jest on her lovely face. Just pure curiosity and genuine interest.

Snaking his hand through the long strands of the soft grass he reached for her, threading his fingers between hers. Her skin was smooth, soft, warmed from the waxing summer sun.

He held her hand within his, her small palm engulfed in his large one, and he marvelled at the feel of it. Her slender fingers curled between his, squeezing his hand gently in return.

Locking his gaze on hers, he found his breathing slowing, his mind quietening, his body thawing as if it were melting into the earth in her presence. He always felt like some cosmic puzzle was clicking into place, some unanswered question was finally finding its solution when Elain stared at him like that.

He finally felt whole, complete. Like the Armageddon of dark and light clashing and the war of those two sides melding to create something entirely new; something precious and terrifying and rare. A perfect, equal blend of the two. Of Dark and Light.

Bringing her hand up to his lips, he pressed a tender kiss to the unblemished skin of her palm.

“I’ll go wherever you go, Elain.”

*******

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[madeleineengland]

✨KUPAŁA NIGHT

Kupała Night is a Slavic holiday associated with the summer solstice of the Sun, celebrated during the shortest night of the year, which falls around June 21-22 .

In Anglo-Saxon countries it is known as Midsummer.

Kupalnocka is devoted primarily to the elements of water and fire, which have a cleansing power. It is also a celebration of love, fertility, sun and moon.

The Slavic customs and rituals associated with the Kupała Night were to ensure health and harvest for the saints. Bonfires were lit in which herbs were burned. Various fortune-telling and dances took place during joyful games.

Girls put wreaths with lighted candles into the currents of the rivers. If the wreath was fished out by a bachelor, it meant that she would get married quickly. If he was swimming, the girl wasn't going to get married soon. If, however, it got on fire, drowned or entangled in the rushes, it was foretold of this old age. They are probably the remains of the old spring magic rituals ending the enchantment of the "good beginning", referring to the soulful rituals and the coming harvest.

In some regions it was believed that you could not bathe in rivers, streams or lakes during the day until Kupala Day, while bathing after dusk or before sunrise cured various ailments, as water was then a healing element belonging to the moon.

The Kupala Night celebrations began with the ritual making of fire from ash and birch wood (some sources mention only oak wood). Jumping over the fire and dancing around was supposed to cleanse, protect against evil powers and disease. According to beliefs, aquarians, waterlines and drowners, as well as most other water demons, liked to lurk for summer-thirsty people who unreasonably take a bath before Kupała night. Only after this holiday, swimming in water became relatively safe.

Photos from Roskosh Model

[thenightling]

Wiccan Holidays

Wheel of the Wiccan Sacred Holidays and what they equate to.

Note: I'm writing this out for non-Wiccans.

Disclaimer: This is extremely simplified.

Samhain (October 31st) Overlaps with Halloween. This is a time when the veil between worlds is thin and also the Ancient New Year and harvest. Magick is supposed to be strongest at this time of year. It is also a time to honor and respect the dead.

Yule (Jol) Winter Solstice - Equatable to Christmas (in fact Christmas is called Yule in many parts of the world). Longest night of the year. Shortest day of the year. A time for feast and exchanging gifts. A time to remember love, kindness, and charity. This is supposed to be a very magical time of year.

Imbolc (February 1st) Overlaps with Groundhog Day and Candlemas. Also Overlaps with Saint Brgid's Day. Celebrates the slow return of spring.

Ostara - Celebrated at the Spring equinox. Equatable to Easter (including the colored eggs). Celebrates the start of spring. Also a day of balance. Day and night are perfectly even.

Beltane - May 1st. Overlaps with Walpurgisnacht and May Day. Celebrates the approach (or start) of summer. The half-way point to Samhain. The veil between worlds is very thin. Supposedly this is a night when faeries and other supernatural entities can be found to barter with, trade spells and potions, or just have festivals. It's a magical time and spring equivalent to Samhain.

Litha (Summer Solstice) Also called Midsummer Day / Night. In Ancient Greece (Before there were four seasons) there were just Summer and Winter. And this was the half-way point through the Greek summer. This is also the scientific start of summer. Longest day of the year. Shortest night. This is a magical time of year.

Lughnasadh (August 1st) the start of the Gaelic harvest season or Spooky Season (though for Halloween collectors that's actually July 5th). It's a celebration of the return of cooler weather.

Mabon (Autumn equinox). Equatable to Thanksgiving. Day and night are perfectly even. It's a day of balance. And the veil between worlds starts to thin, and magick is on the rise. This will reach its peak at Samhain. Mabon is a time to Feast and give thanks even though it's roughly one month before Canadian Thanksgiving and two months before American Thanksgiving.

[donnerpartyofone]

Sometimes life takes on the thematic consistency of a movie, and this is always thrilling even if you know intellectually that all of your impulses and machinations have to come from the same subconscious place.

At the beginning of the week I saw an interesting horoscope prompt to write an obituary for your past self and bury it in the ground. I decided to do this, perhaps because I have been burning for change for several years now on a level that has been making me much more insane than I already am. I thought it would feel forced and pretentious to write the obit, but it was really easy, particularly easy to see what the "past self" consists of when I notice all the things I do now that I couldn't before. It was a good feeling, that it was so obvious to me what to write. I buried it where we spread our lizard's ashes, a place where there is a view of the Statue of Liberty. Sometimes I hang around there and analyze what "liberty" means to me in a culture where we often take it for granted as a foundational principle, even though this isn't very true in practice.

It happened to be the summer solstice. On midsummer's eve I had been strangely full of energy. Someone posted a section of coptic midnight praise music, so I got out of bed and listened to that on repeat for about an hour before getting two or three hours of sleep. I woke up around dawn feeling refreshed and experienced no fatigue for the rest of the day. Then I did the writing, and the burial. Oddly (or not), I would spend the next two days finally-finalizing my married name change on every outstanding account. Becoming a different person.

In the night I'd found myself looking at pictures of snakes, my favorite animal since childhood. In the morning I vaguely remembered something having to do with snakes and midsummer; in fact there is a Lithuanian grass snake entity that is supposed to protect the home and bring good fortune, and it is connected with a sun goddess who is naturally celebrated on the solstice. I even remembered that I had some Zaltys-themed perfume in my collection, so I dug that out and enjoyed it, a sunny and snakey smell. My seemingly random snake meditation was well-timed, not only calendrically but because my husband and I have been desperately searching for a new home. We got one the next day.

In less than 24 hours, we viewed an apartment in our (really MY let's be honest) favorite neighborhood, applied to lease it, and were accepted. Of course nothing with me is ever as cut and dried as that, and in reality it took several hours to get my application materials together and do banking bullshit and just stop fucking everything up. I started a post yesterday detailing all this, but now I'm too exhausted to fix it up and post it. Suffice it to say that almost every adult activity is almost Too Hard for me, I wish I understood the world better and I really do try but it's beyond my intellectual functioning, but every time I have to take care of some administrative nonsense I'm like a goldfish passing the same plastic castle like it's brand new. Sometimes it feels like everything I do is the hardest thing I've ever done, and my only source of pride is the willingness to keep doing it.

The apartment is only slightly too expensive, which we will trade for slightly more space in a much nicer neighborhood. We've been sitting on each other's heads in a hilariously small place surrounded by toxic waste (literally) for ten years, and in the last few years it began to feel like something that was holding us back, as people, in life. Like I needed so many things to change about my health, my job situation, my daily routines, my worldly possessions, and it just didn't feel possible for anything to shift in this little place that seemed to be shrinking every day. I became convinced that moving house would trigger all of the other changes, no matter how unrelated they might appear, and I still think this may prove true.

It may not be surprising that I started going to church during this time of constriction, when I could only expand my mind. I find it easy to love the intense fetishism of Catholicism, and its enormous pantheon of different guys with different attributes. It's got more guys than GI Joe, all with cool little backstories. Somewhere I read that you can bother St. Joseph for domestic needs. He is a guy who we know very little about, which is curious because the holy family is such a big deal; it seems that he died sometime before Jesus turned water into wine, but no one knows how. There is an incredible statue of him in Star of the Sea that is epically sad and exhausted-looking, I need to get a picture of him. I actually said a novena to Joseph for the new apartment...so now I guess I'm on the hook! Good thing I confused things by also asking my favor of the Lithuanian snake entity, so I don't have to just become a fanatical Catholic. I'll have to make a little joint altar in the new place for Joseph and the serpent.

While I was changing my name on the last bank account down in the financial district, my husband texted me to say we got the apartment. It was about an hour after we submitted our application. When I stepped outside, I realized I was around the corner from St. Paul's Chapel on Broadway, an ancient-feeling place surrounded by modern steel and concrete and glass. The cemetery that wraps around the building has a view of the Oculus, which presents an extremely strange view that I couldn't get a representative photo of, so all these exteriors are stolen and you'll have to try to imagine what I mean. I did go in, though. The atmosphere is very powerful, a center of oldness and spirit and allegorical thought in the center of this futuristic business orgy. I think that I'd like to be wealthy because of course that's what everyone wants, but also because it would increase my ability to be helpful and contribute to changes I want to see around me. I thought about this while I put some money in the offering slot and lit a candle.

In esoteric thought there is something called an egregore, which is sort of like a large-scale tulpa, an entity that arises from people's collective mental and emotional investment in it; Wall Street has an egregore, and the NFL, and Broadway, and Disney, and so on. St. Paul's Chapel does a great job of announcing itself as the seat of the egregore of New York City. I regret that I couldn't get a picture of this painting without the glare in the middle, although that does add a certain amount of drama. But anyway here we are, back to the concept of Liberty. Here's hoping the new apartment brings lots and lots of growth and change.

[primordialsoundmeditation]

Happy Summer Solstice!

"Solstices and equinoxes mark the four movements in a celestial score. The older I get, the more I aspire to tap into the symphonic song of nature. To harmonize with the flow of seasons, the cycles in our landscapes, and the larger universe. This year, on June 20, Summer Solstice arrives in the Northern Hemisphere. Summer Solstice marks the time of the longest day and the beginning of summer. Where I live, it ushers in prime growing weather and a magnificent rush of flowers and produce to enjoy and share. In centuries past, Midsummer’s Eve was seen as one of the times that the fairies were supposed to come out and dance. Today a fairy house movement plays off this theme, inviting children lost in the pretend world of blue screens to take a closer look at nature and play for free in an outdoor world of imagination. For families it’s a time of garden salads, strawberry shortcake, picnics, and summer vacation.

Gardeners and farmers are perhaps tied to these cycles as much as any of us can be, living in the modern world. And as a gardener still crafting a life and livelihood from the land, I am touched and heartened by our human impulse to mark the seasons together with earthly and celestial rites and rituals that help us celebrate our circles around the Sun.

*(Excerpted from an essay on seasonality in my book "The Heirloom Gardener - Traditional Plants and Skills for the Modern World) 'Midsummer Eve' by artist Edward Robert Hughes #heirloomgardener #Summersolstice #midsummereve

The Heirloom Gardener John Forti

[nuovamagia]

Summer celebrating

I rarely manage to celebrate witchy holidays. But so far it looks like I will this Summer solstice/Midsummer/Litha. Tonight I had a bath, which i rarely do. Had a peach (both color and scent)pillar candle and a bath bomb that was labeled as galactic vanilla berry. Accompanying me were celestite, phantom amethyst, citrine, moldavite, an aquamarine fox, pink aventurine, the emerald in my engagement ring, clear quartz, fluorite (really: all my tiny or small crystals because i have them all in a tiny cute clear treasure chest. lol) Happy Solstice everyone, Enjoy the summer!

Tomorrow’s plans:

Baking bread. I’m thinking a rosemary garlic one I just came across.Making Sun teaCollecting harvestables including from my garden. Maybe weeding and other garden work.Starting a painting I sketched a couple days agopossibly cleanTry to get out and just sit and enjoy the sun, which i rarely do because I hate the humidity Maybe some divination

So it rained so my mom didn’t wanna make bread. But I ate cornbread from yesterdays dinner.

Went grocery shopping this morning, My local grocery store had an OLIVE TREE!!! So i had to buy it. $19.99 though.I transplanted in a slightly larger pot when i got back from the store.

 Then I got some lottery numbers and decided to grab a scratch off, only a 5 dollar one but won 10 buck. the section that says 2x a $5 dollar win, which i dont think ive ever seen when doing scratch offs lol.

I did wear my emerald necklace my fiance bought be for my birthday last year, Added a citrine pendant to it too, wore phantom amethyst and celestite bead bracelets.

Opened my strawberry hibiscus green tea kombucha. No sun tea.

Bought ice for my mom, and decided to grab some non alcoholic guinness, which wasn’t great but i suppose not bad. then got a discounted coffee almond vanilla stout 4 pack.

Had one of each as I painted. Watched Midsommar with my mom. I had seen it already but thought it would be fun to see what she thinks. I told her it was creepy.

[ninevehsage]

The Bard of Eve - The Hare and the Moon

I'm eagerly waiting for June, since there's Litha, Summer Solstice and Midsummers's eve & day fest. And I've also been creating a photo series about Witch's Summer and I'm excited to start posting my new photographs next month (which begins on Saturday). I also plan to update my blog's playlist for something a bit more magickal, kind of like this song here and the whole album 'Wood Witch' where this song is from. Something's up despite of this heat that tires me and makes my mind fuzzy. It's only 26,5°C in the shadow outside and inside, but with no air conditioning... it is too hot and it is supposed to get even hotter on this weekend. Yet it is no way near as hellish than for example what they had in Delhi on last Tuesday. 49,9°C is inferno!

[mi5014tomberry]

Norse Parade - History & Celebration

Before I made a start on character design I needed to figure out what my festival was about, how could I tie together my research so far into a festival/parade of my own. SUMMARY OF NEW IDEA AT BOTTOM.

I started by looking into actual Norse holidays and their Pagan traditions of the past. The link above gave a great insight into the many celebrations of the past most of which are seasonal celebrations like Jul (Yule) at the Winter Solstice and Lithasblot (Midsummer) at the Summer Solstice. They all celebrate the Norse Gods and in some way pay blót (tribute/sacrifice) whether it be through burning effigies/sacrifices or a banquet and fiery spectacle as a means of pleasing the Gods.

After summarising the types of celebrations in festivals and parades from all of my research on this module, I simplified the key attributes which make up a festival (top half of the notes above). I then scribbled down a few of the more interesting traditions I found when looking into the Pagan traditions with the idea of creating a parade celebrating a God that best suited the seasonal celebration - Jul time Parade for Hel, ruler of Niflheim or Lithasblot tribute to Surtr, ruler of Muspelheim.

Walpurgis stood out to me when browsing through that website and as I read about it, it is a nine day long nocturnal celebration of the AllFather when he momentarily sacrificed himself 's noble self-sacrifice. On the ninth night, he clutched all the Runes and ritually died for an instant and was then reborn at midnight returning light into the world with dazzling brilliance. Today it is celebrated on Walpurgisnacht (April 30) using bonfires to honour this famous tradition, despite the dissimilarities of their origins, both Walpurgis and Up Helly Aa make use of a burning effigy in their celebrations.

Waluburgis night is also celebrated in Sweden, Finland and Germany each of which having their own name for the celebration. This brought to mind the idea of how this celebration could spread between nations slowly changing from place to place each adding their own tweaks to the festival just like how messages are distorted in a game of Chinese Whispers. When first reading Waluburgis I thought it could be some sort of typo as the first thing that came to mind was burgers and that somehow, Walpurgis could have been translated erroneously and themed around burgers by the Germans and I could splice it with Oktoberfest and make up some burger themed event within Oktoberfest. This was a silly tangent my mind briefly wandered down before realising that I am supposed to be tying all of my research together, not overcomplicating things with more research into yet another celebration.

I took a step back and had a think about the different avenues that I could take this idea down with many possibilities. One of which could have been linked to this nonsensical translation of a Norse festival which now became a unique Pagan festival celebrated by European peasants. This would have a certain aesthetic and visual them which has a lot of room to explore in terms of character design and still retained some sort of link to the tacky costumes as they would only have limited supplies to celebrate with forcing them to improvise in creative ways. Maybe hearkening back to the flaming tar barrel as their own effigy. I thought that a modern day celebration similar to Up Helly Aa was a little bit too boring so I decided to have a think about how I could tie in the theme of cosplay and bad costumes to Viking themed parades and Norse mythology, there had to be some sort of crossover in this Venn diagram which could satisfy all three.

I needed some sort of backstory to these characters and some sort of theme that could tie it all together with a parade like event that my characters could take part in. I was initially planning on creating some sort of Norse conventions with some lazy enthusiasts making their own costumes and celebrating at some sort of convention. I discovered that Sweden has its own Comic Con and this setting could tie together the costume design element and Scandinavian theme. The issue with this is that I didn't have some sort of parade like event which could be the focal point of the festival, all festivals have some sort of sensory spectacle whether it be music or a visual display I needed something people could take part in.

I thought that there could be some sort of a fight outside the convention which could splice the tradition of battle re-enactments with the outlandish and extravagant range of costumes seen at conventions.

I had also recently learned about these two events when listening to a podcast both of which could influence an interactive event for my festival similar to the Bull Running in Pamplona. The two videos above showcase some really outlandish sports one in Japan and one in Italy and I liked the idea of having some sort of fight/sport between the convention goers and the people of Stockholm.

At this point I liked the idea that the Swedes could have some issue with the amount of people clogging up the streets with ridiculous costumes and a brawl could start with an altercation between someone dressed as Thor or some other Norse-inspired costume and a Swedish citizen who got into a silly argument which became a fight which ultimately expanded into a large scale fight of Nerds VS Nords. The article above is about someone being stabbed in the eye with a ballpoint pen after an altercation broke loose which is just the sort of ridiculous fight that I would imagine at a convention similar to the scene from Anchorman 2 above.

Summary: It's a stupid event held annually at Comic Con Sweden where angry Swedes get into a drunken rage and fight against the bumbling convention attendees dressed in costumes inspired by Nordic culture. Patriotic Swedes representing their country fight against the characters that are taken from or mock their culture. Picture drunken Swedes in Viking Dress brandishing flat-packed IKEA swords brawling against the Dovahkhiin, Two Hobbits, the Swedish Chef and Kratos. The event is a friendly annual brawl in honour of an actual minor brawl that happened a decade prior and became a tradition ever since as a part of the convention. A firelit brawl at dusk between the Nords and the Nerds who settle their differences at midnight with a bonfire honouring the coming together of both groups, something like that. I can tweak things to better suit the brief if I have gone too far astray but it lends itself well to character design because I can design either the ramshackle costumes for convention attendees who come in all shapes and sizes or the furious Swedes in Viking dress or expand it to other cultural references like IKEA, Abba, Pewdiepie and Alfred Nobel with his dynamite to finish things with a bang.

[maypoleman1]

18th June

Bawming The Thorn

Source: Adam Everett/ Warrington Guardian

On the last Saturday before the Summer Solstice (in 2023, actually yesterday), Bawming the Thorn takes place at Appleton Thorn, near Warrington in Cheshire. Originally a raucous Midsummer festival, the bawming is now rather more quaint. An old hawthorn tree, (the Appleton Thorn) now fenced off and protected, is garlanded and decorated by the townspeople and then a ring of schoolchildren, dressed in uniforms of red and white, dance round the tree before taking part in a procession leading to a gala and summer fayre. The original thorn was allegedly descended from the Glastonbury Thorn which itself was supposed to be the progeny of Joseph of Arimathea’s staff. That tree sadly died in 1967, but its replacement is still going strong. The ceremony is a great watch for the tourists but is a genuine pagan survival, harking back to tree worship - the most ancient of the pre-Christian religions.

[homunculus-argument]

This time of the year, I really enjoy informing people that I'll be unavailable for the rest of the week and back to work next monday, as it's summer solstice, like they're supposed to know what the fuck that means. Midsummer night celebrations are non-negotiable and everything that doesn't involve lakeside bonfires or wilderness magic can wait.

[soundsfaebutokay]

That's it. I need it. And I demand that you must give me ALL of your Geraskier fic recs. I keep wandering the tags aimlessly looking for good shit and not finding nearly enough.

(Special addition of please gimme some completed/one-shot recs because I am not a patient person and I need the feels NOW.)

Never let it be said that I don't know how to take responsibility for dragging you onto this ship. I gotchu, fam.

Abby's Long List of S1 Geraskier Fic Recs

(because s2's got me in a Geraskifer mood and I haven't collected enough s2 Geraskier yet. None of these are s2 canon-compliant.)

Fun and/or Softness and/or Fluff

Crammed In With You by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Across the years, Geralt and Jaskier have needed to share a bed. Then there was the one time they got a room with two beds instead.

If you guessed which of those times was the awkward one, you would have guessed wrong.

non-human Jaskier by shestepsintotheriver

unconnected Witcher fics feat. non-human Jaskier.

Broken Curses by Castillon02, greedy_dancer

A series exploring the ways Geralt and Jaskier trust each other. All works can be read independently.

a heartbeat in hand by asweetepilogue

Geralt notices Jaskier's hands. It's starting to become a problem.

Offerings by Descarada

Secondary Title: Was Anybody Going to Tell Me That Geralt was Courting Me? Or Was I Just Supposed to Find it Out From This Random Herbalist Myself? This is a story about Geralt trying to court Jaskier, and the poor bard missing it completely. A little bit of moronsexuals and lot of vulnerability and sweetness.

Cat's Cradle by handwrittenhello

Jaskier gets turned into a kitten after accidentally upsetting a god. Geralt is going to have a hell of a time keeping him safe now.

spring, summer, spring by yogurtgun

After spending a treacherous winter together, Jaskier and Geralt make an arrangement: they travel together for three seasons before Jaskier finds a town or a court to winter over until spring. However, this year Geralt meets Jaskier a little earlier than expected, during Imbaelk. Between holiday celebrations, solstices and plum schnapps, Geralt falls in love and loses his way.

Winters at the Academy by Beginte

A Witcher in his bard's university town

you're only brave in the moonlight (stay til sunrise) by SummerFrost

Falling in love with his roommate is, objectively, a bad idea—but most of the major decisions of Jaskier's life have been bad ideas, and they've gotten him this far.

Concession by Elisexyz

Geralt not-so-secretly loves being the little spoon. Cuddling Without Plot.

kiss it better by NatTheSongbird

There were many strange things about traveling with Jaskier. He seemed incapable of being quiet, for one. He was a shameless flirt and had no problem falling into the wrong person's bed. More than once, Geralt had seen him start a fight with anyone who spat insults at him.

Stranger than all of that, however, was his insistence on helping Geralt. Every time he came back from a job hurt, Jaskier smacked his hands away and busied himself with tending to Geralt's wounds. And every time, he finished it with a kiss and a cheerful proclamation that he would "kiss it better."

The weirdest part? It worked.

I'll Wish Upon Embers by DrowningByDegrees

Geralt lets Jaskier talk him into sticking around for a village's midsummer festival. He assumes they're staying for Jaskier's benefit, but somewhere between the flower crowns and the bonfire, Geralt realizes it was a gift meant for him all along.

Golden Days (a love story in hindsight) by TeenyTinyTony

As Jaskier and Geralt make their way towards their first “real” midsummer together as a couple they reflect on the midsummers that led them there.

Alternative title: Three times Geralt and Jaskier didn't get to celebrate midsummer and one time they did.

Tailored by TakeTheShot

Since the day that they met Jaskier has not been one thing that Geralt expected. Why he hadn't imagined that the trend would carry on in the bedroom, he has no idea.

A bit of smutty silliness with feels, in which Geralt is surprised to find that he has feelings for Jaskier, is surprised to find that those feelings are reciprocated and then is surprised one more time...

Bardic Idyll by Lisztful

Jaskier is certain he can win the Continent's annual bardic competition, but he needs to be accompanied by a dashing romantic companion in order to enter. Enter Geralt, who is definitely, for sure, only interested in the free food, and not at all in staring lovingly into Jaskier's eyes.

Pretend boyfriends fic, with battling bards, well-meaning friends, and fluff and angst in equal measure.

Woodash and iron and leather by iffervescent

Jaskier is the only person Geralt's ever been around who doesn't smell of fear

Dandelion Clocks by CobaltCephalopod

The little things Jaskier learns about Geralt and what Geralt notices about Jaskier over the years. Starting with the veracity in his claim to have "bread in his pants" at their first meeting.

Keeping Crows by Castillon02

If it was some kind of weird religious thing, it was for a god Geralt had never heard of. Probably it was just a weird Jaskier thing. Crows, of all creatures! Corpse eaters. Grain stealers. No one liked crows. But Jaskier was voluntarily traveling with a Witcher; maybe he just had poor taste.

Slow Burn and/or Plotty

The Paths You Take by CosmicOcelot

“Oh, thank the gods,” Jaskier breathes. “Name’s Lambert, actually,” the witcher corrects, his lips breaking into a crooked grin, “Though I certainly won’t stop you from worshipping me.”

Will you be coming home? by what_a_dork_fish

At fifteen, Julian hires a bodyguard and runs away.

At twenty, he's quite happy.

At twenty-five, he's fucked.

The Stars are Gone When You Look Away by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Geralt is determined to get everyone he cares about safe to Kaer Morhen for the winter, but neither Jaskier nor Yennefer are inclined to be cooperative - and then the truth of Jaskier's past comes to threaten the present.

Stuck in the fae realm with the thinnest of lies to keep them from being separated, Geralt and Jaskier are going to have to solve their relationship and keep their wits about them if they want to make it out of here intact. At least Yennefer and Triss are willing to help...

...if Yennefer and Triss could get over whatever they've got going on between them.

Shining by Nemainofthewater

Things that Jaskier can remember about his family: -His mother stroking his hair, the soft murmur of her voice as he settled more comfortably against her. There was firelight and warmth and love. -A brief moment of triumph and then the feeling of weightlessness as his father lifts him from the tree and cradles him to his chest. The steady rhythm of his heart in his breast. -Reaching up to the sky. He’s not sure what for. Possibly for his parents, though he knows that they are gone, that they have left him, that they are never coming back. -His grandfather’s stern visage. The knowledge that he doesn’t want him. That no one wants him. Being sent to temple school is honestly a relief.

Jaskier is (unknowingly) a dragon and is (forcibly) adopted by Borch, post Rare Species.

With a Conquering Air by inexplicifics

From the kinkmeme: AU Warlord!Geralt receives Tribute!Jaskier as a sacrifice to appease him in every way possible. Jaskier has no choice on the matter and he’s fully aware of the awful rumours that have spread about Geralt and his ruthless conquests. (But we all know those aren’t legit.) A classic angst with a happy ending please! A dash of smut to heal those scars and a sprinkle of new found love!

Jaskier arrives at Kaer Morhen knowing his family gave him up without a second thought, and absolutely sure that the dreaded Warlord of the North will value him even less than his own blood did. But the White Wolf and his pack are not what Jaskier expected...and if he's unreasonably lucky, Kaer Morhen might become far more of a home than Lettenhove ever was.

...He is, in fact, going to be unreasonably lucky, because the Warlord of the North is a far finer monarch - and a far better man - than Redania's king has ever dreamed of being.

Angst and/or Lots of Complicated, Achy Feels

a year and a day by ShanaStoryteller

Geralt makes two promises that he doesn't want to keep.

Tunes Without Words by foxy_mulder

The plan is this:

He will note all the things that annoy Geralt, and he will stop doing them, and then Geralt will want him around.

It will work. It has to work, because Jaskier cannot be left behind.

Almost Lover by TheMalapert

Eskel likes poetry, and it it makes Geralt sick that that's the only reason he knows his long time friend has died. When Eskel shows Geralt a book that says Jaskier died, Geralt travels to Novigrad to pay his respects. He finds the bard very much alive, very much unapproachable, and very much drunk. Or is that himself? Jaskier, however, isn't going to let Geralt hide their reunion at the bottom of a bottle.

Press Until It Hurts (But Not Until It Bleeds) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

There are few things more intimate than putting a blade to someone's throat.

all the liars in the world by kageygirl

Geralt has been foolish about many things in his long life, and every time to his detriment; he'll not make the mistake of deluding himself that someone like Jaskier, with all the world open to him and everything to offer in return, would ever really choose Geralt's company in that way.

(Geralt may not be a reliable narrator of his own life.)

An Unexpected Song by trekkiepirate

The peace of the breakfast table was broken by a portal opening barely a meter from the center of the room.

Yennefer stumbled out of it backwards, a bundle held tight to her shoulder and her other arm clasped tight around a bleeding woman in a hooded cloak.

Correction, a bloody woman.

Every Witcher stood, instantly alert. Geralt pressed Ciri behind himself and blessed Jaskier’s lazy habits that meant the bard wasn’t out of his room yet.

Truth of The Heart by CosmicOcelot

Maybe the worst part, Jaskier muses as he stares into his tankard, is that it’s all so horribly... cliché.

The inconsequential companion – tossed aside the moment that the truly intended, cosmically wedded couple finally meet. Because what chance does he stand – what role could he ever play – that would permit Destiny to place him on the same stage – let alone in the same scene – as witchers and sorceresses?

We Remake Ourselves by Jadelyn

Jaskier is secretly a dragon with a crippled wing who can't fly. Geralt is not so secretly an idiot when it comes to things like emotions and relationships. They'll probably figure it out, eventually. Maybe.

can you play me a memory? by pasdecoeur

Ciri meets Jaskier when she's nine. It's all downhill from there.

The Spectre's Wreath by RebrandedBard

Geralt is wrongfully hired to dispose of a vengeful spectre that haunts a lake, only to discover it is the town's unknown guardian and the very spirit of Yule itself. Yule curses Geralt with a wreath atop his head. If he does not receive a kiss before the lake thaws in spring, he will turn to ice and die. With the pass to Kaer Morhen closed up, Geralt decides to spend his last winter in Oxenfurt with Jaskier. But it may not be his last after all if Jaskier has anything to say about it.

Honeysuckle by Amazonia_8

The mutations are specific tools for specific uses. Formidable strength for formidable enemies. Sharpened sight to see what lurked in the darkness. Keen smell to track every kind of quarry. So while the varied scents of men can often times tell him what they are thinking, what they are likely about to do, there is one who's scent is unlike any other. There are precious few mysteries in Geralt's life anymore, even less that is new.

The Witcher Wolf by im_fairly_witty

It’s been two weeks since Geralt shouted Jaskier away from him on that mountain and Jaskier has been handling it like a champ by forlornly wandering alone in the wilderness with his lute. When he (literally) stumbles across an injured white wolf he decides to take a chance and see if he can help it, appreciating the irony of the situation but not quite realizing why it is that the wolf’s golden eyes look exactly like his Witcher’s...

Ivy on the Hill by chaya

"A quiet companion, a noble friend! / Has no compunctions 'bout biting your end!" Jaskier stops, frowns, and repositions his fingers on the lute's neck as if trying to work something out.

"Are you singing to Roach?" Geralt asks, leaning over the saddle horn. "I'm not hallucinating?"

Jaskier looks up and smiles brightly, cheeks pink from the sun. Something in Geralt... doesn't like this. "Well, you do take excellent care of her, but a little praise can go a long way, you know."

hope it's nice where you are by K9_DFTBA

After Jaskier goes viral for being a pining mess during a livestream, Geralt’s family tries to figure out exactly why the couple broke up, given that Jaskier is clearly still in love with Geralt. Meanwhile, Geralt is in denial, Jaskier is absolutely fine, thanks, and the internet is having a bit of a breakdown.

NOTES:

The categories are far from strict. I just roughly put them under the overall vibe (and what mood I'm craving when I reread them).

Several of these are part of ongoing series, but the fics I linked are complete and satisfying on their own.

I've got more recs here. And uh, so so much more, but for next time because this is already long. Let me know if you want another list. :)