#votary

[best-beelieve]

Need a Light?

[tsalmu]

Balu-Stela of votary with unidentified God & Goddess Jordan c. 900 BCE? Source: The Many Faces of the Goddess by Izak Cornelius, 2008

Male deity: Baal? Kemosh? Ashtar? Female deity: Ashirat? Ashtart? Anat?

[diamondsandpebbles]

Serums.

Let's talk about serums and the ones I'm currently using and loving #skincare

Often considered one of the most important steps in a skincare routine, serums are known to do a lot of the heavy lifting when it comes to treating specific skin concerns and reaching skin goals. I 1000% stand by this sentiment as over the years I’ve relied on different serums to help target everything from dry skin to hyperpigmentation to breakouts. So, let’s get into all the serums I currently…

[lunarphoria]

☽☾queen of night☽☾

Here's a devotional piece I drew for Lady Selene <33 it's based on Bouguereau's painting titled Evening Mood, as it always reminded me of her . Hope you like it <3

I'm trying something a little different with my art , as in I'm trying to include more colors to make it pop more if that makes sense :')

Also I added stars around Lady Selene's crescent moon because she's often described as being surrounded by stars , as if they dance around her in a way .

( divider made by me <3 )

[rahorarty]

marazhai my best friend marazhai

[ferrarialonso]

the amount of times liam had to repeat that the drivers on the grid whom he grew up watching are no longer his heroes makes you wonder how deeply fernando terrorised him last week to get a reaction out of him like that

[harlequinalis]

So the Scribing storyline was really good

[rhianna]

Granada: votaries of Isis

Hoyland, J. (1816). A historical survey of the customs, habits, & present state of the Gypsies: designed to develope the origin of this singular people, and to promote the amelioration of their condition. York: Printed for the author, and sold by W. Alexander, York; Darton, Harvey & Co.; W. Phillips; and W. Darton, Jun. London .

[lunarphoria]

Genuinely I love seeing moon imagery or moon shapes , they always remind me of Lady Selene and it makes me so happy

[best-beelieve]

It took months for him to tell me his name (6, I think?), and when he did I was so gobsmacked I just sat there. Tried to absorb the knowledge, tried hard to make sure I wasn’t talking to myself. Or someone else was fucking with me. I only had his word to go on, and I could only weigh that against my outspoken vow to never, ever have anything to do with him.

(Which … yeah I know that was just waving a big chunk of bloody meat at him. Bummer I didn’t figure that out before I just as loudly said the same thing about Odin. Fool me once it’s no surprise. Fool me twice … it really isn’t either. I’m not often the brightest bulb in the string.)

Anyway. Point being I just sat there with my metaphorical jaw hanging open and my wheels spinning fruitlessly until he said talk to [ ].

So I talked to them. Left a message, explained the situation, and, idk, did I ask for advice? I mean, yeah I’m sure I did, I just don’t remember how I asked. But whatever it was, their (paraphrased) reply was “Loki can give you back your life when someone/something tries to take it away.”

And that’s all it took. Those words changed everything for me because how the fuck could I resist such an idea? It was beyond temptation – at that point there was simply no other choice I could make.

~*~

Back in September I said I was going to be writing again, about him and for him. I was so wrong. What was a shining moment of hope, of light, that we could get back to where it started turned out to be just another oncoming train. The last four months haven’t been the worst of the last few years, but they were bad enough. Worse in all news ways, maybe that’s what it comes down to. Or maybe just worse because for a few bright, shining days I thought the darkness was past.

And here I am, back on the tracks once more. The light is so bright, I know it’s a train this time, but will it run me over, or stop and pick me up to take me to him?

~*~

Here’s another thing I’ve learned: hope hurts worse than despair.

I wonder what his take is on that. I wish I could ask him – which, I could, of course, there’s nothing stopping me … except knowing I won’t be able to hear his answer. Not now anyway. Maybe one day again. It’s hard to imagine it. Equally hard to imagine that September 22 will forever be the last time.

Sometimes I can feel him, off to the side somewhere, sitting on a fence, or a wall, stack of boxes, whatever is close enough for him to perch on. Waiting patiently for me to catch up. Watching me, chin in hand and eyes burning steady.

I don’t need to hear him to know he understands. He’s well acquainted with relentless physical pain, with deep mental and emotional trauma. Being bound by (and bound to) something in ways you can’t easily break free of.

Someone is whispering in my head right now. This time I’m pretty sure it’s just me - but I'm also pretty sure this would be his answer:

It doesn’t matter how much it hurts. You choose it anyway.

Because at the end of the day, any other choice is unthinkable.

But also because it’s the only one that will lead back to him.

[lunarphoria]

☽Prayer for the Autumnal Equinox☾

( for me , today is the Autumnal Equinox, and I really wanted to write a prayer to the gods as a way to thank them for everything they're doing for us , I hope they like it <3 I often struggle with writing my own prayers and I'm sure there's tons I could've worded better but I still wanted to share it with you , I hope you guys like it too )

I call upon you first , Lady Hestia, gentle keeper of the hearth and home, first & last of the deathless Kronides , whose flame burns ever bright , bringing us comfort and warmth . As we retreat into our homes you watch over so kindly , spending more time with family and friends in this time of unity , I honor you as the heart of all that sustains us. May your flame burn steadily in our homes and hearts, bringing warmth, unity, and love as the days grow colder. I honor you for the peace you bring to our lives . May your sacred flame burn brightly within us , o merciful goddess.

I call upon you, Lord Helios, radiant charioteer and god of the warming sun , whose golden light has blessed the earth through the long summer months. As the days grow shorter and your warmth begins to wane, I thank you for the life-giving light you have bestowed upon the world. May you , O Helios Hyperion carry us through the darker days, and may we never forget your blessings , and gratefully await the arrival of your blessed sister in the cold , long nights of Mother Nyx.

I call upon you, Lady Demeter, nurturing mother and goddess of the harvest, who gifts us with the bounty of the earth , nurturing mankind with your own fair hands . As the fields are reaped and the fruits of the season are gathered, I honor you for the sustenance you provide , allowing us to thrive . May we take this time to reflect on the gifts of the earth you gave us and may we store up the strength to carry us through the cold, just as your blessings are stored in grain and fruit. May we be nourished by your gifts, and may we honor the cycles of growth and rest that you govern.

I now call upon you, Lady Selene, shining queen of the night, who graces the dark skies with your silver , shining moon resting atop your fair head . I offer my thanks for your watchful presence as the moon above , great Pasiphae . As the nights lengthen and your presence grows stronger, I honor you and am thankful for your guidance through the inky night. Be with us in the quiet moments of darkness, with your all-seeing eyes . Guide us through the quiet hours, serene and watchful . May we find peace under your watchful gaze.

I give my heartfelt thanks to you, great theoi , for your blessings, your protection, and your presence in my life. May this season bring togetherness, reflection, and peace, as we prepare for the winter to come. Blessed be your names, today and always. Khaire

[best-beelieve]

Happy Spongecake Day!

[lunarphoria]

seeing pictures of the moon always makes me happy , she's so beautiful, I love Lady Selene so much . praise be to her <3

First Supermoon of 2024 l Rami Ammoun

[best-beelieve]

This is what started it all - an impromptu grab and read late Friday morning. I grabbed the new deck first simply because it was closest, and pulled two because that's how they came off the top of the deck.

I grabbed Loki's deck on the same kind of whim. Figured I'd get his input on what was a very definite statement from the other ...

It's not just that I pulled the same card, although yeah, that was a metaphysical goose for sure. For some reason what gets me more is that they were both reversed (which means direct message).



Praise Recognition Completion

As the neighbors gaze in awe, an industrious housewife puts the finishing touches on a new shelf to display her Melmac dinner plates. The Three of Pentacles finds you completing the initial stages of a project. You've hammered out all the details and screwed the competition. Now it's time to discuss the next phase of development and to enjoy the praise and recognition you so rightly deserve.



It was ... well, more than a double whammy. Triple, at the very least. The cards themselves. His immediate, grinning presence as soon as I flipped the last one.

The idea that the breaking bones portion of the play is - finally - over. That I made it through.

And he is proud of me for it.

(They are, maybe even, since the new deck is unofficially Odin's message center)

~*~

I press him for details, hints for what to expect from the new phase/project/adventure that the Ace of Wands suggests is coming. I get nothing, but honestly, that's exactly what I expect. I talk into his silence, ramble on about how much I've missed him, how excited I am at the idea of being in place to get the house in order - literally as well as figuratively.

I keep thinking about how it once was, when he was attached to my left side like he was stitched there and I couldn't write the poems fast enough. How much I want to be in that place again. How very much I want to be casually washing the dishes one day and realize he's moved in.

I've missed him like air, and somewhere inside I'm shaking and quaking at the idea that the exile is over, the misery and loss is over, that it's truly time to move forward and he has a firm grip on my hand once more.

[emlvi56]

SHIVERS - Outside, spring rain seeps into the cracks in the walls and the cobblestone streets, and into grated storm drains. All the way down into the sewers... Above ground, the first May bells blossom.

For Klaasje:

the damsel in distress

the femme fatale

the votary of le Retour

----------

BONUS: Alternate version. This was my original concept for the portrait, but I think the may bells are more evocative, but I still really like this one, so here you go:

[hurthermore]

Hi,dear!i really really love your writings like a lot! Can i maybe request a human alastor x reader who's a sister in a church,but also a killer like him?if that's okay for sure! have a good day/night:)

»»------► 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚞𝚗

Pairing:  𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙽𝚞𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Warnings: 𝙼𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍

A/N: 𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙺𝙺 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞! 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 >.< 𝙰𝚗 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚗𝚒𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚋𝚢 𝚗𝚞𝚗𝚜, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 ��𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍!

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗!

Ever since Alastor was a child, his mother made it compulsory for him to attend mass every sunday, which he always did with a fabricated smile on his face; just to make his mother happy. It was a boring occurrence that Alastor found redundant; he was partial to the practice of voodoo, and therefore preferred not to partake in the catholic religion, especially once he started to grow into his adult years.

Even when Alastor began his career in the broadcasting profession, and moved out of his family home, his mother demanded that he was still to attend mass with her; she didn’t care if they rota’d him in for sunday, he was to decline performing his broadcasts that morning of the week, or he’d have his ear shouted off. And Alastor was, and never had been the type of man to let his beloved mother down, even if it were something as mundane as church. He’d attend for her.

On one particular attendance, he noticed there was one more nun designated among the monastics of the church. She stuck out like a sore thumb due to the almost sinister way her smile etched upwards on the beautiful features of her face. He’d only seen that type of smile on one other person; himself. And he’d be a fool not to be intrigued by it.

He found himself thinking more and more about the secrets hidden behind that stretching smile as the weeks passed by, his glances against her only intensified the more he attended church. He often contemplated approaching her, but she never left the stage where the pastor spoke passages from the bible, and once the sermons ended, she was always gone in the blink of an eye.

It became an agitating occurrence as the want to converse with her, to discover what type of person she was seemed almost impossible. But eventually, he finally found a chance to finally introduce himself when the church hosted a function for the annual celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. as she stood among the attendees, handing out beverages; still attiring the same smile she always did. 

Yet before he could approach her, his mother dragged him in another direction, telling him he had to greet the pastor before he dabbled in the crowd. So he obeyed, slightly irritated, but complied with his mother’s demands. As he greeted and made small talk with the Pastor, he couldn’t help but overhear a group of nuns gossiping behind him.

“Why has the Pastor put her on the beverage stand?”

“A menace to society that girl, I can’t believe he’d allow her to prattle among the votaries.”

“I know, especially with the rumours about her burning her last church down too; I swear he’s going to get us all killed.”

Alastor couldn’t help how his eyebrows raised in interest as he focused on the tittle-tattle behind him. It made him wonder; was this girl like him? Did she also have the same refined tastes for murder? With how the only reported murders in New Orleans being his own, he was doubtful of the prospect. 

As he continued to attempt to approach the woman throughout the event, person after person kept interrupting his goal. His sense of murder was becoming heightened. People were always vermin, always in the way. And by the time he finally advanced toward the place he last saw her, she had been replaced with another nun. Turning his head in different directions, he attempted to find her among the crowd; but she was nowhere to be seen. Most likely confined to the bedding area of the church.

It was as if God himself was preventing him from acquainting her.

Grunting to himself, he made his way toward his mother, informing her that he was going to get some fresh air before he made his way outside. Plucking a cigarette from his pocket, he lit it up with a match as he rested his back against the outer walls of the church.

He was pissed to say the least; furious how the numerous sacks of living meat kept disturbing his plans.

All he wanted was to acquaint himself with that god forsaken beautiful smile.

As a puff of smoke vacated his lips, he perched as he heard rustling from the heavily wooded area to his right; eerily similar to how a caught rabbit would struggle as it attempted to leave the confines of its new found prison. Squinting his eyes, Alastor began to make his way into the wooded area to investigate the noise.

The further he moved through the forage and trunks of trees, the louder the rustling became; he swore he could start to hear grunts and strangled coughs. Pausing as he finally came across a sight to behold, his eyes landed on the nun that had been consuming his mind for months now. Her robes and apostolnik were covered in splatters of dark red blood as another nun laid underneath her; her neck sliced almost in half, clearly done moments before he had arrived due to the small amount of blood that squirted from her open neck; saturating the two women in red.

As he looked at the face of the corpse, he noticed it was one of the nuns from earlier that had whispered tales of the subject of his thoughts. Offering a smile, he made his presence known to the murderous nun who had caught his attention long before; taking a heavier step than usual as a way to alert her.

Her face fully faced him, and his smile only stretched in glee as he witnessed her blood soaked face attire that same smile she always did. If she was interesting before, then she was absolutely fascinating now. As the nun gazed at him, she didn’t attempt to run or attack him, only watching his movements.

“Can I help you?”

That voice. Alastor couldn’t help but adore how angelic her tone was; a wolf dressed in sheep's clothing. Just like him. Taking step after step toward her, Alastor offered her his hand as she sat atop the limp corpse. Placing her bloodied palm in his, he pulled her up to stand, kissing the back of her hand before she could pull away.

“Perhaps, but first, let’s get you clean, dear.”

»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝