#yes i am talking about the children lir

[saltwatertealeaves]

Idk who said that cursing a group of kids who belonged to your sister (who was married to him before you, died in labor, and was loved for both her mind and beauty), because your grieving husband loved his own kids deeply and had a hard time opening up to you (who YOU agreed to marry to make sure the kids had both a mother and father growing up) , was a feminist power move.

I do not agree with you. Feminism is about equal societal rights (like pay for just one example) its about the empowerment of women, and having autonomy over ones own body. (etc)

Cursing the kids of the grieving man you claim to love, because he's grieving over his dead wife is not a feminist power move. Doing bad things in the name of feminism only makes feminists look bad when they are doing great things. Just having women do bad things and calling it feminism isn't always feminism. Women can be bad people too, and can inflict pain onto men.

Labeling something as feminist purely because it has a female lead (looking at you COHO) does not make something feminist! I am actually kinda shocked about the way books are labeled as feminist when theyre really not <3

[choco-glow]

Aliit

“Like so, riduur…kat-tay-LEER da-RAH-soom.”

“Kat-tay-LIR—”

“Leer, think two ees in Basic. The letter’s a bit weird in Mando’a.” Senya shot Shae a rueful smile, and Mandalore the Avenger threw back her long red braid with a laugh, wispy strays forming an auburn halo about her head. “You’re doing great, riduur; it’s hard picking up a new language, especially when it doesn’t use the same grammatical cues as Zakuulan or Basic.”

“And you didn’t have an overbearing father forcing you to learn everything, Buir.” Arcann drawled from where he was underneath Shae’s speeder, his face striped with oil and a bit of grease, blue eyes bright over his smile. Senya couldn’t help smiling back, warm and happy, because her lone living child was so at peace with his rebirth, with this, with them…Hell, he was picking up Mando’a faster than anyone else on base, but then again, the Mandos had taken him in like a lost son, Shae particularly. Torian chuckled low and rich from his perch atop the speeder, working on the upper half of the engine while Arcann took care of the transmission, and Senya found herself happy to have a second son again, if in name only.

Torian Cadera and his wife, a former Togruta bounty hunter-turned-adopted Mando, had been mostly adopted by Shae, and while Chromi was out and about taking care of things, Torian had elected to help his newly adopted brother with the repairs that Shae had, quite frankly, gotten too old to do. Not that that had stopped her, of course, but Shae had allowed Arcann and Torian to take over, while Senya eased her out, swearing and muttering under her breath about being too old for this shit, etc, etc.

“No, that is true, but still, I should at least be able to say that phrase, Tyth knows you tell me it enough.”

“It’ll come with time and practice.” Senya flushed, just a little at Shae’s sweet, quiet smile, and she took her riduur’s hand, conscious of the fact that she stood almost a head taller than the other woman. Then there was her power in the Force…Senya still felt like the odd duck out, though Arcann had made himself useful enough to blend in admirably. But then, he and Thexan both had felt better with their fellow soldiers on the battlefield, rather than the cold confines of Zakuul’s palace. Vaylin too, though Senya had always been less sure of her youngest…but she shook those sad thoughts away, longing for her children, and knowing that at least they were at peace once more in the Force.

“So it will…How about we go find ourselves a bit of dinner? We’re old ladies now; we can’t skip meals.” Shae pulled a face at that, and Torian laughed, falling back a little at her expression.

“Admit it, Mandalore, you’re no orochick any longer.” She swiped at him playfully, and he grinned, cheeks dimpled and eyes crinkled shut, and Senya laughed, catching Shae’s hands and pulling her closer.

“Old my ass, Cadera, don’t make me swat you like your buir should have.” Shae ruffled his hair, though, grinning despite her protests, and let Senya drag her off, while Senya failed to hide her smile. “I see you smiling too, riduur.”

“Yes, well, it’s nice to listen to you…even if you’re a bit over the top.”

“Hey now, I’m downright boring for Mandalore; trust me, some of my predecessors weren’t that nice. But…eh, that’s old news. C’mon, let’s hit the cantina; that C2 droid found the best chef in the galaxy.” Senya chuckled at that as they took the elevator back up to the main deck of the base, protected by the heavy cliff overhang, with the rest of the Alliance stronghold carved into ancient bedrock. Odessen as a planet was relatively young, and life on the planet hadn’t progressed to sentient yet, which had made it perfect for the Alliance…and having been so young in the galactic record, it was also that rare planet that hadn’t been explored yet, hence the first come, first owned philosophy.

Not that their Commander had claimed the planet for herself…no, Ionial had taken care to file everything neatly, and for a Jedi Knight, that was a rare perk. Then again, she was married to Theron Shan…and as he was the main Operations manager to the whole of the Alliance, Senya had a feeling that paperwork was something that poor couple dealt with even in the marriage bed.

 Certainly, she was perfectly fine shacking up with Shae in her old age; Mandalore had baggage, but so did she, and though they did have responsibilities…they could set them down for a time. Shae, however, nudged her out of her thoughts with a careful touch to her elbow, and Senya glanced down at her riduur, eyebrows raised…and followed Shae’s line of sight to one of the tables in the back room, empty but for a familiar figure in long graying braids, her slender hands wrapped around a mug of tea, her beautiful face pinched with weariness and sorrow.

“…That’s Satele…”

“So it is…Senya, love, how much to you know about the Grandmaster?” Shae murmured as they accepted their drinks, and Senya chewed her lip, reviewing everything she’d learned about the former leader of the Jedi in the last eight years.

“…I know that she was the Grandmaster, and though she still holds the title, she is no longer the speaker for the Jedi. I know that she helped train our Commander…and I know that she’s Theron’s mother.”

“…She’s a hell of a warrior, in the speaking halls and on the battlefield. I’ve gone up against her once, and out of respect, I’ll never do that again.” Shae replied softly, and to Senya’s surprise, the Mandalorian took her hand, guiding her to the room. “And out of respect, I think she needs a friend.” Senya glanced back up at Satele’s face, and even at this distance, Senya could see tears sliding down her cheeks.

“…You might be right about that. A moment…” She leaned over to the waitstaff who took their order, and hurriedly ordered a third meal of Alderaanian stew and fresh veggies, and Shae nodded approvingly. They made their way to the back room, and it was Shae, her eyes frank and kind, who slid into the booth opposite Satele’s seat, and gently clasped the Jedi’s hands. Senya joined her as well, her own long hands joining Shae’s, and that brought Satele’s eyes up slowly, tears streaming down her face, her pain so strong that Senya instinctively reached for the Force to help calm her. That seemed to help, just a little, and Satele took a deep, shuddering breath.

“…Can we ask what happened?” Shae asked gently, her tone as soft as Senya had ever heard it, and Satele gave a weary, wet laugh.

“…I tried to talk to my son, and utterly ruined things. Again.” She swallowed, with difficulty, but cleared her throat and took a shaky breath. “Theron…and I have a…well, complicated is too strong. We don’t have much of a relationship at all. I…when I got pregnant, I didn’t think about him, I didn’t think about being a mother…I was too worried about being found, about figuring out what I could do with him. My master, Ngani Zho, took him and raised him…I stayed for six weeks to nurse him until we’d found a formula that worked, but that was all. And I left him.” Satele’s voice broke at that, and both women slid around to hug her, letting her weep into their arms. Senya’s heart ached for her; she’d been raised with no attachments, to have no attachments, and no matter what the Jedi might say, that was something that damaged the very soul.

For all that she mourned her children, Senya was grateful that she’d been able to love them so fiercely. Not being able to care for her babies like that…it horrified her to her very core. One glance at Shae over Satele’s braids, and Mandalore’s eyes were shuttered, angry, and grieving too. I could hate the Jedi for what they’ve done to people…even the Sith cherish their children.

“I am such a horrible mother…” Satele was whispering now, and it was Senya who shook her head, voice low but fierce.

“You are no such thing. You are a woman who was forced to make a choice, with little regard to your own heart.”

“But…the Code…”

“Blast the Code.” Shae’s voice was as sharp as vibrosteel, and Satele flinched, just a little. “Sorry, but…Satele, you wouldn’t have made that choice if you’d been like me, would you?” Satele froze, and for the first time, Senya sensed someone just outside their door, listening…she closed her eyes, opening her mind, and to her shock, it was Theron. He was frozen on baited breath, his eyes wide, and Senya amplified the sound in that room, just a little, just enough…both Shans needed to hear this.

“…No. No, I wouldn’t have…if I’d been…normal…like him…I’d have kept him. If Malgus hadn’t been hunting me…I would have been overjoyed to be a mother…” Satele whispered, but it was enough; Senya heard a bitten off sob outside the door, and she reached behind her, grasping the younger man’s sleeve and gently tugging.

“Theron, you need to come in here.” She called softly, and he shook, but he obeyed her, watery golden eyes a match to his father’s, wide with worry and nerves…and it was Satele who watched him, tears still burning down her cheeks, who reached out for his hands.

“Theron…”

“…You really would have kept me?” His voice wavered, and Senya clasped his shoulder, willing all the love she could feel pouring from Satele into him, knowing he was only just Force sensitive enough to catch it.

“Yes. Yes, I swear, I would have…I would have needed Master Zho to help, because I was…I had no idea what I was doing…but I would have brought you home and to hell with anyone else.” She whispered, and he closed his eyes, lips twisting in pain. “Theron, sweetheart, I’m so sorry…”

“I’m sorry for what I said…I’m sorry, Mama…” He whispered, and Shae hopped up out of the way to let mother and son embrace tightly, both of them sobbing as the dams broke between them. Senya managed to order a fourth meal too, and when they all arrived, she laid them out neatly. Soon, Theron and Satele had calmed enough to sit back down, this time opposite one another with Senya sharing the seat with Theron, Shae on Satele’s side.

“I know you two are probably exhausted, but you need to eat.” She declared, and Theron’s lips curled up in a half-smile, used to Senya’s Mom skill by now, while Satele managed a wan smile and Shae openly grinned.

“Thank you, Senya, Shae…”

“Yeah, thank you…I’m so sorry I yelled, Mom…” Satele only shook her head, eyes softer now, and clasped his hand.

“You were right to yell about that. I never…” She paused, took a deep breath, and continued. “I should have talked to you about all of this…really, I just should have talked to you. I know you felt like the dirty secret for years…and understandably so. I treated you as such, and Jace…” Theron sighed, wincing, and she nodded. “I owe you a lifetime of apologies.”

“…No, just the one is good, Mom. You did give me to Zho, and without him, I would have…well. He explained a lot, especially when I flunked out of the temple; he could have told me to bug off, but he kept in touch, helped me get into the SIS, even went with me to get my implants in. And he never faltered when I asked if you loved me; he always said yes, looking me dead in the eyes. I…didn’t always believe him, but he always said yes.” Satele smiled, just a little, and it was Shae who spoke up, having stayed quiet through most of it all, uncharacteristically so.

“He sounds like a good guy…I’m guessin’ he’s gone to the Force, isn’t he.” Both Satele and Theron nodded, twin expressions of pain marking their faces, and Senya closed her eyes, pulling a well of comfort and care from her core and filling the room with it. She had always been a master at controlling her emotions, in no small part because she was so strong with her empathy, and Satele gave her a fragile smile, so shy and tiny, that Senya couldn’t help smiling back.

“Thank you, Senya…and yes, he is. But he went down in battle, as he wanted, protecting his boy.” Theron was picking at his steak now, his jaw tight, but he heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, he did…it…it was hell watching him die in front of me. But I wouldn’t want him to go any other way; whatever else happened, he was a warrior, and he didn’t let any fight go past him without taking a swipe. But he’s at peace now…kinda wish he’d visited, but…I figure I’m doing a good job if he isn’t coming back.”

“Or you two didn’t need me until now.” The voice of an old man, far older than Satele or Shae, even, filled the glowing spot now hovering next to the table, and Ngani Zho, glowing blue and smiling faintly, stepped from the shadows, giving Theron a gentle cuff on the ear, and tweaking Satele’s nose. Both made the Shans break into startled laughter, and their Master smiled fully this time, leaving Shae and Senya speechless. Force ghosts were…a rarity on Zakuul, if at all; Senya had sensed Darth Marr’s spirit on Odessen, alongside Satele at times, but only just, and never had she sensed Thexan or Vaylin…Shae looked almost frightened, and Senya clutched her hand, broadcasting calm.

“So, you two finally talked it over…about damn time.”

“Master Zho…”

“Don’t you give me that, it’s been long enough. Take your time, feel things out, but let the Code go, Satele. At this point, it matters, but not more than your boy…and Theron, so help me if you don’t cut out the swearing—”

“Look, I’m a leader now, I’m gonna swear a lot more—”

“I will appear in front of your wife and complain to her.” Theron froze, and Zho crossed his arms, looking as smug as a Force apparition could. “With her old master in tow.”

“…Orgus passed on.”

“Wanna take that bet, son?” Another crusty old man’s voice sounded, and the former Jedi Orgus, short-haired and taller than Zho, leaned over the other ghost’s shoulder. Theron blanched, while Satele burst into relieved laughter, leaning back and reaching over Shae’s shoulder to give the other Jedi a brush of her fingers. He chuckled and squeezed her hand before vanishing, and Zho smiled down at her.

“Now then, any more complaints I should know about?”

“No, thank you, Master Zho…and thank you for coming to see us.” Satele murmured, and he leaned over to kiss her forehead, his eyes calm and warm, then he leaned over to do the same to Theron, who hugged the old man tight, despite their bickering.

“…Tasiele would have been proud of you both. She loved you so fiercely, Satele, and Theron…your grandmother would have fought tooth and nail to bring you into the Temple from the start…But she left us far too soon. It’s hard, losing your soulmate…” He gave them both a wan smile, Satele’s mouth open in shock, Theron’s eyes wide and his jaw hanging slack, and Zho chuckled. “Never did really care for the Council’s strict policies…maybe that’s why we had a secret marriage, and why when you were born, Satele, we kept things quiet. Kinda blaming Revan and Bastila for starting a line of rulebreakers…”

“Father…” Zho gave a warm chuckle, and kissed his daughter’s brow, then his grandson’s, and vanished once more, his revelation leaving both Shans speechless, while Senya and Shae made to get up and back out. Satele came her senses, and shook her head, taking a deep breath. “Shae? Senya? Please, don’t go…I’m sure that was…absolutely bizarre for you both, but please, stay…” They shared a look, and at Shae’s quiet nod, sat back down; Senya was on firmer ground here, if only just, but Shae looked…spooked, for lack of a better word.

“…So, I’m guessing you never knew…?” Shae murmured, and Satele shook her head, eyes closed.

“I knew my father was a fellow knight, but…my mother died when I was a child, and I was already with Zho as his padawan. He was always just Master to me, but kinder, gentler…at the same time, stricter. Now I understand why…” Theron gave a huff of a laugh, and Satele cracked a smile at him.

“It all makes sense now…Force, it must have killed him to keep that secret to the grave…” Theron murmured, and Satele squeezed his hand.

“I think that’s really why he came back…to prove that we had more than just a shared Master…that there’s always time to fix things.” Theron smiled at that, really smiled, and Senya was struck by just how much like his mother he looked in that moment. He took after his father in eyes and coloring, but his smile was all his mother’s, with a touch of Zho in there in the quirk of his lips.

“Yeah, there is…” He leaned up, kissing her on the forehead, and sighed. “But duty, unfortunately, owns my sorry ass, and I need to go get things in order. Love you, Mama…make this a…thing? Maybe tomorrow?” He asked, sounding so unsure of himself, and Satele kissed his forehead back, both hands cupping his face.

“I love you too, Theron. Go, and call if you need any help at all.” He shot her a weak grin, and sped back off to work, while Satele slumped back into the cushions with a weak laugh. “…You both are looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“Nah, just figured you were overwhelmed.” Some of Shae’s easy-going nature had returned, and she motioned for the Jedi to keep eating. “Eat up, no point in wasting good food.” Satele obeyed, and by the time the three women had finished their plates, Senya gathering up all four dishes, Shae was gently rubbing Satele’s shoulders, and Senya knew that look in Mandalore’s eye.

 They’d talked it over extensively over the last six months they’d been together; if there was anyone they might wish to add as a third lover…Satele was first on the list for both of them, and Senya could already feel the beginnings of a dyad between herself and Satele, which, had she not taken the time to research it on the Holonet…

“…thank you both. Sincerely. I…I thought for sure it was all over, that…that Theron would never speak to me again…” Satele murmured, and Senya cuddled up to her other side, rubbing her upper back while the Jedi leaned into them both, melting a little from the gentle touches.

“He’d already came back in the short time we were there…” Senya murmured, and Satele gave her a weak smile, gray-blue eyes weary but relaxed.

“Still. Thank you. For listening. For feeding us…and for not running away screaming at the ghosts.”

“…It was creepy as fuck, but you’re cute enough to make us stay.” Shae sighed out, and Satele burst into laughter, cackling a little as Senya hid a smile. “What?!”

“Oh Force, Shae, I know we were enemies once, but you always know how to make a woman laugh.” Shae grinned at that, looking smug, and Senya just chuckled.

“It’s a strong skillset of hers…just like my empathy is mine. Satele…I can feel the loneliness rolling off of you in waves. It’s been with you for years…” She calmed down, sighing a little, and Senya probed the tentative dyad with careful touches, smiling as Satele closed her eyes and probed back, understanding and a little joy warming between them.

“…so it has. So it has. Your empathy…small wonder you walled yourself off, Senya…” Satele’s eyes were calmer now, and she glanced at Shae, making sure that the lone non-Force user was also in the conversation. “You two…I was surprised to see you two together, but at the same time, I was happy for you…” She trailed off, looking vulnerable now, and it was Shae who spoke up again, this time her voice softer, that familiar rasp Senya’s favorite sound in the world.

“Well, if you wanna give it a shot, riduur, we’d love to have you in the middle. There’s something already with Senya and you, right?”

“How…did you know…?”

“I might not have the Force, but I can read bodies almost as well. And Senya said she’d sensed something the first time she’d met you, a…dayd, right?”

“Dyad, but close enough. A bond, between two souls through the Force. It’s rare…but it’s strong.” Satele bit her lip, worrying at it, and Shae gently took her hand.

“Riduur. Satele. There’s been a bond between us too, we were both just…too indoctrined by other bullshit at the time to see it.” Those blue, blue eyes, warm despite all the storms they’d weathered, watched both her riduur…and her riduur-to-be with a calmness that not even Senya could call up. “I lost my daughters…you lost your whole family. Senya lost everyone but Arcann, and for a time, she’d lost him too. We lost our lovers, and in time, discovered that those weren’t what our hearts had longed for. I had a long time to figure my heart out…have you?” Satele seemed to think on it for a long, long time, dipping her head to stare at her tea; neither Senya nor Shae were impatient, though, holding her hands, Senya radiating love through the bond, Shae’s eyes never leaving Satele’s face.

When those eyes lifted again, though, both women were shocked to see that the storm clouds in Satele’s eyes had parted, leaving sky blue irises, with a hint of gold glimmering in the centers. A warm smile, rich and bright and so lovely it made Senya’s heart ache to see it, and she leaned in, kissing first Shae, then Senya full on the lips, pulling them into her arms.

“…I have. I found where I belong.” Shae grinned, bright and fierce, and Senya laughed, happy as joy from deep within welled up and overflowed, Satele’s power second only to her daughter-in-law’s.

“Good. ‘Bout damn time. C’mon, you two…let’s go let the brats know.”

“Arcann will be thrilled.”

“Torian’ll probably just call me a gold digger, the little shit.”

“…oh crap.” Senya paused as Satele froze, her arm over the Jedi’s shoulder while Satele’s arms were around their waists, and she touched Satele’s cheek, worried.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“…Theron’s going to kill me.”

“Nah, probably just bitch about it. Hey…” Both of them stared as Shae got a wicked grin on her face, and suddenly, Senya understood exactly how Hylo felt whenever Gault opened his big fat mouth. “We could stage a strip Pazaak tourney. Let the kid really understand what trauma is.”

“Oh Force, Shae, no.”

“…I have a better idea.” Satele’s voice was smug, and she pulled out an old datapad, pulling up a file that crackled for a moment before clearing, revealing a tall man with long dark hair in a half-pony tail, his robes a bit disheveled.

“Is this thing on?”

[solynaceawrites]

Promise Me Forever [11]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Lirael Thorne (OC) Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe, First Time, Friends to Lovers Chapters: 11/14 co-written by @lickitysplitfic​ Summary: An old, long-forgotten promise between gods comes back to haunt Dante when it deposits an unfamiliar woman on his door. Claiming to be the descendant of Ler, she says that they’re meant to fulfill the oath made by Sparda centuries ago, and all he can do is watch as she turns his life upside down. Yet when her parents come knocking, demanding the oath be fulfilled, he’s forced to choose: return to the bachelor ways he loved so much, or give in to the emotions brewing between him.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Lir can't stop smiling as she follows Dante through the streets of Fortuna. The aquarium had been everything she dreamed of and more: large tanks full of exotic fish, an open pool where she had been allowed to pet a sea urchin and a turtle—even if the ticklish sensation of the urchin's spines made her squeal—and even a hallway that passed through an exhibit where a shark swam directly overhead. Dante had been more than patient with her when she stopped and stared in wonder, gently pulling her to the side to allow others to pass.

Her hand reaches to her neck, where a charm he'd bought her rests. It's a simple thing, a shark's tooth on a leather thread, but she cherishes it more than anything else she owns, and he'd seemed pleased by how happy she'd been to receive it. Even now, he's more relaxed than he's been in weeks, strolling along with his hands in his pockets, pointing out the different shops and buildings he recognizes.

She's a bit nervous about meeting Nero and Kyrie again, more so meeting their children, but the high of the aquarium makes it easy to shift that into anticipation. Lir has always been good with children, something that came about when she'd been picked to teach weekly classes for reading and writing, and she hopes these will take to her as easily as the ones from her home had.

Their house is small, but cute, a bike sitting on the tiny patch of grass that is their front lawn and a selection of different kinds of balls on the steps. When Dante rings the doorbell there are shouts and footsteps inside, and Lir is shocked when two boys fling the door open. "Dante!" they scream, launching themselves at him.

"Hey boys!" he laughs, catching each one in an arm. Lir chuckles as he swings them upside down, holding them like footballs.

"Can I touch your gun?" one asks.

"No, Nero would kill me."

"How about me? Can I have one?" the other pleads.

"Maybe later. Go tell Nero we're here."

He swings them both upright and they take off, pushing each other as they disappear in the house. Dante turns to her with a grin and Lir laughs. "Is it always like that when you come over?" she asks.

"Pretty much! They'll be askin' for stories all night. Always gotta be careful which ones I tell, or Nero'll scold me about givin' 'em nightmares."

She nods, and then Nero appears in the doorway, eyeing both of them. "Guns?" he asks, and Dante shakes his head. "Sword? Any other sort of weapon?"

"Just my good looks," Dante jokes.

Nero rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Don't hurt yourself stretchin' like that." He steps to the side to allow them to enter. "Come on in. Kyrie's makin' spaghetti."

"It smells delicious," Lir says as she enters, and he smiles at her. "Thank you for having us."

"He treating you okay?" Nero asks suspiciously as he closes the door.

Lir nods, and he leads them back through the house. The boys are in the living room watching television and shooting tiny cars along an elaborate racetrack that takes up most of the floor. "Woah!" Dante exclaims, rubbing his hands together as he plops down with them.

Nero nudges her arm. "Come on with me, you don't have to play too," he says with a laugh.

Lir glances back as he leads her towards the kitchen, smiling to see him listening to the boys excitedly talk as they climb into his lap. She would have never guessed he would be so good with kids, and it really makes her happy . . . but then she realizes that is an incredibly dangerous train of thought and focuses squarely on the back of Nero's head.

In the kitchen, they find Kyrie humming to herself as she stirs a pot on the stove. The room smells of garlic and tomatoes and spices, and Lir breathes it in deeply, her mouth watering; visiting the aquarium had left her with a larger appetite than usual, so she's eager to taste the dinner Kyrie has spent so long on. "Get'cha something to drink?" Nero asks.

Lir nods, moving on instinct towards the stove. "What can I do to help?"

"Sit and relax," Kyrie laughs. "You're our guest."

She pauses, then takes a seat at the small table in the kitchen, where she'll be in easy reach if she's needed. Nero sets a glass of white wine in front of her and settles across from her with a bottle of beer clutched loosely in his hand. "Sorry if this is abrupt," he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "but I wanted to talk to you for a minute without Dante around."

"What about?"

Instead of Nero, it's Kyrie who answers, "He's worried that you might not be happy since this is an arranged marriage. Yes," she adds when Lir inhales sharply, "Nero told me. I'm not one to judge, so don't think that I will. But, having seen how poorly they can go, we both just want to make sure you're alright."

"Yes, it's all wonderful!" she answers immediately, wincing a bit as her voice goes a bit high pitched. Lir clears her throat when they exchange a glance, but she continues on, "Everything is fine. Dante treats me very well, I'm very happy. I'm glad to be here."

"Your family seemed intense," Nero says. He leans against the kitchen counter and folds his arms. "Did they pressure you?"

Lir shrugs, not sure how to answer. "Yes and no. But it was my decision in the end. We needed to do something about the oath, and Dante and I . . ." She sucks in a breath, wanting to avoid that topic altogether. "We figured it was the best solution."

Unfortunately by their expressions, Lir can see her explanation wasn't enough. "What oath?" Kyrie asks just as Nero says, "Best solution?"

"The, uh . . ." Lir shifts uncomfortably. "Sparda and . . . Well, he . . ."

"Sparda," Nero snorts, shaking his head. "At what point are people going to give up all this stupid crap?"

"Nero!" Kyrie scolds. He looks appropriately chagrined, and Kyrie sighs. "Lir, your business is your own. We just want to know you are safe and happy."

Lir nods. "I am."

"Good." Kyrie hands Nero the potholder as he moves to drain the pot. "So . . ." Kyrie says with a wink. "Are we expecting any little ones soon?"

Her heart pounds uncomfortably in her chest. It's an innocent enough question, one she'd heard directed to her friends, who would smile coyly and beat around the bush until all of them were laughing about it. But for her? Is it even possible? She's been regular since she was twelve, but there's no telling if any sort of pregnancy between her and Dante would hold, given that he's half-devil. Yet hadn't Sparda had children just fine, even if it had taken him two thousand years?

"Not yet," she murmurs. "We're still adjusting to this, and children would mean . . ." We'd have to have sex again, she nearly says, but cuts that short. "What about you?"

"Not until after we're married." Nero calls over his shoulder. "Besides, the ones we've got now are more than enough."

As if on cue, there is a crash from the living room, and Nero sighs as he places the pot back on the stove. "What have they done now?" he grumbles as he walks through the kitchen door.

Lir stands as well, but Kyrie just laughs and points to a drawer. "Will you set the table? We're just about ready."

Glad for something to do, she gathers silverware and plates and moves into the dining room on the side. It's a bit cramped, just enough space for six chairs, but Lir can't help but smile to herself as she carefully arranges the place settings, even folding napkins on top in pretty arrangements. This is much more her element, and when Dante swings into the dining room a moment later with one kid on his hip and the other on his back, Nero trailing after, they all stop short. "Wow," Nero says, lifting one of the boys and planting him on a chair.

Lir smiles, and Dante hands off the other kid before walking around to stand next to her. "This looks really nice!" he beams, holding out his hand to help her to a seat.

She looks at his extended palm and swallows thickly before pulling out a chair. "It's no trouble," she says, quickly sitting down.

He gives her a strange look, and she doesn't miss the glance Nero and Kyrie share as they bring the food to the table, and her face burns. After what her mother told her, touching his hand seems too risky; while Lir can't remember if she's done it before, and knows that she probably has—hadn't he helped her up after she'd fallen once?—she's afraid that doing it now, when they've gotten to know each other, will end with her parents taking her away.

"This looks delicious," she says to Kyrie. "Thank you."

Kyrie smiles, though it seems a tad uneasy. "Of course. Dante is like family, and you're included in that now."

Silence descends, broken only by the soft scraping of silverware over plates as they portion out the spaghetti and toasted bread, the two boys intent on eating, and Lir does her best not to sink into her seat. This can be salvaged, she thinks, and she turns to Nero. "Have you lived in Fortuna long?"

He shrugs, grating cheese over his pasta. "My whole life. Grew up in an orphanage for a while. Then Kyrie's dad took me in."

"Childhood sweethearts," Lir murmurs. "That's really sweet."

"Did you have someone before you moved here?" Nero asks.

There is a loud thump under the table followed by Nero's "ow!" Lir jumps, not sure if it was Dante or Kyrie who did it, but she answers, "No, it wasn't exactly encouraged."

"Did you know that my birthday is next week?" the younger boy pipes up.

Relieved for the interruption, Lir shakes her head. "I didn't! Happy birthday! How old will you be?"

He puts up five fingers. "Will you come to the party? Kyrie is making a cake and she promised it would be chocolate."

"That would be very nice," Lir answers.

She catches Dante smiling at her when the other boy asks, "Do you and Dante have babies yet?"

Dante chokes on the mouthful of beer he'd just taken, and her face feels like it's on fire, both from the question and his reaction. "No," she says gently. "We don't. Do you know what that means?"

The boy's nose wrinkles. "You haven't kissed?"

Lir laughs softly. "It means, of course, that you'll get more presents from us on your birthday if you've been a good boy. Have you been a good boy?"

He nods his head eagerly. "Yeah! I can tie my shoes and I'm learnin' how to write and I can spell my name!"

The boys dominate the rest of the conversation, and Lir is happy to ask questions with the occasional interjection from Nero or Kyrie. She can feel Dante's eyes on her though, and at one point swears she feels his hand on her leg, but when she looks down it is gone.

Kyrie offers coffee after dinner, but Lir glances at Dante. "We should get back," she says. "It was a long day, I'm a bit tired. If you don't mind?"

"Of course," Kyrie agrees. "I'm so happy the two of you came to visit, and I know the boys are, too. Nero, will you show them out?"

"Yeah." He stands, jerking his head. "C'mon. Least I can do is make sure you get to the crossroads safely."

Lir and Dante follow him. "This is far enough," Dante says when they're on the porch. Nero turns to him with a frown, and he shrugs. "Kyrie'll need your help with the kids, and I can get us back to our room. No need to worry. Besides, I need to talk to Lir alone."

"Careful out there," Nero says as he nods towards the street. "Demons don't normally come this far towards the water but strange things can happen." He glances at Lir and grins. "Of course, now that the two of you are hitched I guess we don't have to look there for those fuckers, do we?"

Lir sucks in a sharp breath and Dante punches his arm. "Watch the fucking language, kid," he says good-naturedly, then gives a wave as he hops down the steps.

She follows after, ignoring Dante when he holds his hand out to her. Instead she tugs her cardigan closed as they turn down the street. "They are a lovely family," Lir says.

"Yeah. Kid's got it nice now. And it's good that he does. He sure went through enough shit thanks to the Order."

Lir glances at him; his expression is guarded, not quite closed off, and she presses carefully. "What happened then? I know there were demons in the street, and a statue came to life, but the details weren't in the papers."

They pause at a crosswalk, and Dante watches the light. "A cult sprung up around my old man. Called him The Savior, built a church and a statue. Over time, I guess they got powerful enough that Fortuna couldn't do much about 'em. Anyway, they were turnin' themselves into demons, and they opened hell gates all over the city. I took care of those while Nero dealt with them. They'd raised him for years as a sacrifice." He pauses as they start to cross, then adds, "Not so different from you, I guess."

Lir stops, looking up at him in shock and hurt. "I'm not a sacrifice, Dante," she says harshly. 

He looks at her and shrugs. "You know what I mean."

"No I don't! I'm not . . ." She folds her arms and huffs, suddenly and furiously hurt. "I'm not anything."

"You're my wife. That's something." Lir stops on the sidewalk, and he continues on for a few steps before noticing and turning to face her. "I didn't want to push ya. I get it, I'm not the easiest person to talk to, and, honestly, I'm surprised you ain't cut and run yet. But something's buggin' you. Has been ever since yer mother called the shop. I thought comin' here would be nice for you, seein' the aquarium, maybe help you figure it out on your own."

"Dante," she whispers, clinging to herself.

"So, you can tell me, or not."

"Your wife," she murmurs. "Your wife. That's all I am, all I was meant to be."

"That's not what I—"

"Raised as a sacrifice, right?" Her lip trembles as she looks at him angrily. "A wife for you, to cook and clean and take care of the son of Sparda, right? Nothing else, nothing else wanted or needed."

Dante frowns. "What—"

"And you know the worst part about it?" Lir cries, her shouting actually drawing a few looks. Dante glances around, rubbing the back of his neck, just like Nero, and that makes her even angrier. Not caring about who is looking, she shouts, "You don't even care about Sparda! Or Ler, or any of it! It's all just a big dumb joke to you all, but this is my life!"

"Lir," he hisses, stepping closer and bending down. "You might not want to shout the name Sparda in the middle of the street."

"Why not? Let them hear about how useless he was at following through on his promises, or writing them down!" She stares up at him defiantly. "And you know what, Dante? It wasn't even necessary! They got it wrong! All we have to do is shake hands, and it's done, it's over with. So here!" Lir holds out her hand. "Shake and be done with it, and send me home. Just like you've wanted to do since I set foot in your shop."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He grabs her, not by the hand but by the arm, frowning down into her face. "What are you talking about?"

Lir grits her teeth. "We didn't have to marry. They had it wrong. So you'll be sending me back then, right? Well I'll save you the trouble, because I—I'm leaving."

Dante's eyes go wide. He drops his hand and takes a step back. "You're leaving?"

She presses her lips together, not knowing what to say. This isn't at all how she wanted to tell him, or do this—hell, she doesn't want to leave at all. But she is too angry now to back down, and Lir is afraid if she doesn't call her own bluff, she'll never be able to know for certain if Dante wants her, truly wants her. 

"Yes," she answers. "I was going to tell you when we got back, but . . ." Lir looks down so he won't see her eyes get watery. "This is for the best, Dante."

"What the fuck for?" He sounds confused and angry, but, worse, he sounds hurt, and she winces. "You said you didn't want to go back there. You said you wanted to stay."

"That was before."

"Before? Before what? Lir, if this is about us having sex—"

"It's not!" she insists. "It's . . . You always told me that you weren't the marrying type, and you didn't even want to do this until my parents showed up. Even then, it was just an obligation, so we don't have to . . . We don't have to keep doing this. I'll go home, and you can go back to the life you like without me in the way."

Dante shakes his head. "But Lir, I . . ."

"I should go back," she says, as if trying to convince herself. "I know you had this vacation planned, and the room . . . You can stay and I'll take the train back."

To her surprise, he reaches out and cradles her face in his hands. Lir blinks up at him, her heart pounding as he strokes her cheeks with his thumbs. She sinks into his touch, daring to hope that he will ask her to stay. As he steps closer, his face inching towards her, she imagines he will kiss her, and tell her he wants her, and all of this will be okay.

"There's no trains this late," he says instead. "Come back to the room and stay the night. I'll take you back to the shop in the morning."

Miserably, she nods, and they finish the walk back to the hotel in a heavy, oppressive silence. The fact that there's only one bed—something she'd barely noticed before—sends a fresh wave of tears to her eyes, which she does her best swallow. The last thing she wants after making such a mess of things is to cause Dante any more discomfort, particularly on her account.

Dante glances between her and the bed. "I'll take the floor," he offers gruffly. "You'll need sleep if you're goin' home tomorrow."

"No, no it's fine—"

He doesn't answer, just disappears into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. Lir uses the opportunity to quickly change, pulling on a nightgown and stashing her clothes. She should pack, but Lir can't bring herself to do it, and when Dante finally emerges she rushes in for some peace so she can get herself together.

She brushes her teeth and washes her face, taking as much time as she can, not wanting to face him yet. When she has used up as much time as she thinks she can without him coming to find her, Lir turns off the light and opens the door.

Thankfully the room is dark, but when she makes her way to the bed she is surprised to find Dante on one side. Lir slips into the other, and without turning he mumbles, "Are you sure this is alright?"

"It's for the best," she answers uncertainly.

He huffs a humorless little laugh. "Best for who? You want to go back, that's one thing, but don't say it's for me. I already told you, I like havin' you around. Don't know how many times I have to say it before you believe it."

Lir rolls to her side and looks out the window. The lights of the city make the harbor glitter a bit, and suddenly she is homesick for her own seaside town. But the feeling is unwanted, mixing with wanting Red Grave, and the Devil May Cry, and Dante. He likes having her around . . . but that feels worse somehow.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," she whispers.

"Figured she told you something when I saw your face after you hung up," he mutters. "Just don't do it again."

"Not just about that." Lir feels him shift, the bed dipping and sheets twisting as he rolls over, and she wonders if he's facing her, if she should do the same. "I don't want to go back. There's just . . . I feel so guilty about staying. Your whole life was upended over something that could have taken five seconds, you've had to deal with me and my family. It doesn't seem right to ask to stay after all of this."

She can practically hear him thinking, the subtle bob of his throat and the way he exhales slowly when deeply considering something. It's one of the things about him Lir didn't know she knew until she knew it, like how he likes his socks folded and that he likes peanut butter on top of jelly, not the other way around. She listens to him breathe and think and she thinks of more, like how he slouches when he's paying attention but sits forward when he's tired, how he dusts the picture on his desk every day without fail, how he purposefully leaves her snacks on the bottom shelves where she can reach. Her chest grows tight as she thinks about all the things she's learned about Dante, and how much more she wants to learn, but now she might not get the chance.

"I ain't chasing you, Lir," he murmurs. "If you want to go, if you feel that strongly about it, then you can go. I've said what I needed to say. Sleep on it tonight and you can decide in the morning."

She hears him shift again, rolling over, and Lir looks out the window. He's said his peace, except for the three words she's wanted to hear most.

[ad-ciu]

Celts in Pop-Culture: Extra Mythology, Part #1

So, in a likely feeble attempt to ward off the slowly crawling insanity and self-doubt fueled primordial terror of an Old Irish exam today, I have decided to spend this evening doing something I have been promising to do for months now: discuss the Extra Mythology video titled: ‘Celtic Myth: the Island of Destiny.’

Now, before I get into the specifics, I would like to preface this discussion with the fact that I did reach out to the people behind this project and let them know there were issues with the material and offered my assistance to revising or helping provide research for a corrections video if it was of interest to themselves. I was informed that they were drawing on the works of Peter Berresford Ellis, a journalist who is very notably not a trained Celticist, and were comfortable with their choice as it showed the variation in the stories, and that I would look forward to the corrections episode. As it has now been eleven months since the initial video’s publication and no correction video has arrived, I want to start my commentary on it.

Oh, and before we begin, thanks to Thrythlind for transcribing this video and the next one so I can comment on them more easily.

Now, the issue with the version of events presented by Extra Mythology, drawing on Ellis, is that it is primarily absolutely totally and factually made up. Which, you know, bad start. But, lets start in the big picture and then break it down. The events described in this text are a segment of Lebor Gabála Érenn, the ‘Book of the Taking of Ireland,’ (henceforth LGE) and Cath Maige Tuired, the ‘Battle of Mag Tuired.’ (henceforth CMT) These are two exceptionally interesting texts, and a great place to start when introducing someone to Irish saga material as Extra Mythology intended to do! However, there is a large problem: the version of events told by Extra Mythology is only loosely based in these texts.

As you can see here and here, there is not actually a tremendous amount of variation between the extant versions of these two stories. LGE has four medieval versions, each of which I have had the pleasure to read (and you can too! Volumes 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5!) and CMT has one medieval version which is one of my favorite texts. I highly suggest reading it, and you can find it here.

So, as we can see, right off the bat we are not dealing with a huge amount of variant texts with a bunch of differences. In fact, there are very few versions of LGE that are very consistent in this relevant section, and CMT has no variants. (There is a Early Modern version, but nobody has ever translated it... or really worked on it. Or done anything with it.) So, I would like to initially begin by pointing out that while Extra Mythology has explained to me that they chose this version of the text to show the different versions, there are none, and the version they used does in fact offer alternatives that are not authentic, not medieval, and made up by Ellis.

Now, to begin.

Void became form and form became Earth and out of the Earth sprang a tree. It was the mighty oak, watered by the river of Heaven, the Danu. And from that oak fell two acorns from which sprang the first of the gods: The Dagda and Brigid. They were the first children of the Danu. And over time the Children of the Danu grew and built four great cities on the banks of the sacred river.

Well, that’s all fictional. The ‘Creation of the World’ for Irish mythology is the Book of Genesis, these myths (if we can call them that, see: Ireland’s Immortals by Mark Williams) are set within a Christian world and a broader Christian cosmology. There is no tree, there is no ‘river of heaven’ named Danu since Danu is a person, in theory (as we never see her ‘on screen’ and might even be dead before the events of these stories), and there is certainly no gods coming out of acorns. And the Four Cities are on islands to the north of Ireland, they are not built along a sacred river.

Now! Where is this coming from? I presume this is Ellis trying to connect Danu, the ancestral figure of the Túatha Dé Danann with the Danube River in Germany which might have a linguistic connection, but no evidence to exists to suggest they were believed to be connected by the time of LGE.

Those cities flourished and in each of them was crafted a great artifact. In one was the Stone of Destiny which would shout with joy when a righteous ruler set his foot upon it. In another was Retaliator, the greatest sword ever forged. In the third could be found the Red Javelin which once thrown would find its mark no matter how its foes hid. And, finally, in the fourth city, lay the Cauldron of Plenty which could feed all the Children of the Danu and still never empty.

Now, this section is rather interesting as it is getting some things correct and then absolutely dropping the ball elsewhere. Let us compare this statement with the actual text of CMT where this description of the Four Treasures of the Túatha Dé Danann are named and described! (Using quotation marks to make it less confusing than if I used block-quotes for both the video and original texts)

“From Falias was brought the Stone of Fál which was located in Tara. It used to cry out beneath every king that would take Ireland. From Gorias was brought the spear which Lug had. No battle was ever sustained against it, or against the man who held it in his hand. From Findias was brought the sword of Núadu. No one ever escaped from it once it was drawn from its deadly sheath, and no one could resist it. From Murias was brought the Dagda's cauldron. No company ever went away from it unsatisfied.“

So, what is wrong here? Well, most of it. Lets go treasure by treasure.

The Stone: Extra Mythology claims that the stone would shout when ‘a righteous ruler set his foot upon it’ where as the actual text says it would make a noise when ‘beneath every king that would take Ireland.’ There is zero moral judgement here, the rock is just a prophecy stone that says when someone will be King of all Ireland. Very different.

The Spear: Extra Mythology calls this the ‘Red Javelin’ which is a name I have never heard before, and claims that the spear is unerring. In reality, the spear is just described as the spear that Lug had, and its function is far cooler in that battles cannot be won against the wielder. Pretty.... massive difference to tell the truth. (I think Extra Mythology via Ellis is talking about The Lúin, a colossal spear that distorts reality to always hit and always kill from an entirely different story)

The Sword: Extra Mythology claims the sword is named ‘Retaliator’ and it was simply the greatest sword forged. The reality describes this as the Sword of Núadu (who Extra Mythology will call Nuada) and that no one ever escaped from it, and no one could resist it when drawn. Vague, but way more detailed than what Ellis has informed Extra Mythology with. Furthermore, ‘Retaliator’ is a different sword, one named Fragarach (translated as Retaliator) which is Manannán mac Lir’s sword which can command the wind, cut through any armour, and will always kill someone it wounds. Super weird call there.

The Cauldron: Extra Mythology presents this as ‘The Cauldron of Plenty’ and that it can feed all of the Children of Danu. The reality just calls it The Dagda’s cauldron and that ‘no company ever went away from it unsatisfied’ which probably sounds very similar, but the difference is important. In a culture with such heavy emphasis on feeding and hosting as medieval Ireland, the importance I would put here is not just on the cauldron’s ability to feed everyone, but to satisfy everyone. There won’t be honour arguments over who got better food, there won’t be violence over issues of disparity, everyone will be satisfied and the host’s duty will be completed.

So, they got the treasures wrong. In fact, they just subbed out two of them for totally different magical items from different Irish sagas, and then sort of misrepresented the other two. Anyways, continuing.

But one day, The Dagda called the greatest of his children from all the cities and told them of their destiny. For it was not for them to remain by the sacred river Danu but to head to an island where the sun set. Before they went, though, Brigid offered them a warning. They would not be alone on this island. Others would try to make it theirs. With this warning, the Children of the Danu set out for their new home. Bringing with them their four great treasures for protection.  Unsure of what they'd find on this Island of Destiny. Or so some say.

None of this happens,the only person who says this is Ellis I presume as it is not at all found in any of the medieval texts. We never get an explanation of why the Túatha Dé leave the Four Cities for Ireland, never gets explained. 

Some say they came in a dark cloud from origins unknown and alighted on a mountaintop. Others still say they came from strange cities across the sea.  Where they learned science and magical arts and when they arrived they burnt their ships behind them. Wagering all on the conquest of Ireland.

Oh, this is true! Our first factual bits of information here. So, yes, the variation here is actually mentioned in texts! That either the Túatha Dé arrived in ships of mist, or that this was just people misunderstanding that they had burned their ships when they arrived. Though, in both versions they still come from The Four Cities.

As they started to explore the misty plains of Inis Vale they encountered a curious people already living there: the Fir Bolg.

Also known as: relatives of the Túatha Dé Danann, and also the native people of Ireland at this time. So, the Túatha Dé have arrived, and found a bunch of native people living in the island they want, I am sure they will be very polite and get along well. Yeah? Well no, of course not, the Túatha Dé Danann are conquering colonizers, they’re not good people.

The Danu asked for half of Ireland to be theirs to settle and they could live in peace. But the Fir Bolg refused so battle was decided upon.

Firstly, ‘the Danu’? No. That would be like calling the Romans ‘The Romulus.’ Secondly, the Túatha Dé demanded half of Ireland from the Fir Bolg who, understandably, were not entirely okay with just giving up half of their land no questions asked to a foreign bunch of randoms who just rolled up and burned their ships.

LGE says, “They demanded battle or kingship of the Fir Bolg. A battle was fought between them, to wit the first battle of Mag Tuired” which if I am reading this correctly is consistant through the versions. So! The Túatha Dé rolled up, went ‘we demand either that we are in charge of you all [and your lands] or fight us about it.’ Very different.

But just to be clear, battle back then was a lot different to the way we think of it now. This was a matter of honor. The Children of the Danu made spears for the Fir Bolg to use. And the Fir Bolg crafted javelins for the Children of the Danu. They agreed on how many soldiers each side would bring. And where they would do battle. They even agreed on how many days they would fight for.

This is a weird misunderstanding or misrepresentation of the facts. Bres mac Elatha and Sreng meet each other and exchange the demands for Ireland, and then exchange spears with each other in a very homoerotic scene after handling and inspecting each other’s spears. 

At this point we start getting into a long description of a battle which I’m going to pick specific things out of to discuss rather than going word for word.

Until the leaders of both sides, Nuada of the Children of the Danu and Sreng for the Fir Bolg, met in the center of the melee.

Sreng is the champion of the current high king of the Fir Bolg at the time, he isn’t the leader of the Fir Bolg. The Fir Bolg king at this time was Eochaid mac Erc.

Then, Sreng landed a titanic strike. His blade cleft through Nuada's shield and severed his right arm in one stroke. Nuada stumbled back, dazed. It looked as though the end had come. Then The Dagda himself intervened and spirited Nuada away.

Yes, Sreng cuts off Nuadu’s hand (or arm. Lám in Old Irish could mean either), but The Dagda isn’t even mentioned in this scene. That’s a super weird detail for Ellis (presumably it was him and not Extra Mythology) to make up.

They took him to Dian Cecht; God of Healing, Lord of Physicians; who crafted him a new arm of pure silver that moved like an arm of flesh and blood.

Also Creidne the smith. Everyone always forgets Creidne and I won’t stand for it.

Now you might think that the Children of the Danu would have quavered at the sight of their leader fallen in front of them. That they would break as their king was smote by the Fir Bolg champion. But, no, Bres, Warrior of the Danu, quick of mind and beautiful of form seized the king's right arm and raised it aloft. Angered by such a sight, the Children of the Danu swore vengeance. And plunged into the Fir Bolg ranks.

This is literally all fictional and I have no idea why Ellis would even make this up.

Finally, the Fir Bolg were all but defeated. 300 Fir Bolg warriors remained. Led by Sreng, their great champion. They took counsel and decided to fight to the last.

So this is sort of weird a) because we are glossing over the fact that in this version the Túatha Dé have essentially committed genocide here, and b) because other Fir Bolg escape this battle.

They quickly chose Bres as their leader for his valor and charm of mind.

So firstly, we don’t mention that now we are dealing with an entirely different text? Well, okay. And also sadly CMT is more misogynistic than this as CMT explains: “There was contention regarding the sovereignty of the men of Ireland between the Túatha Dé and their wives, since Núadu was not eligible for kingship after his hand had been cut off. They said that it would be appropriate for them to give the kingship to Bres the son of Elatha, to their own adopted son, and that giving him the kingship would knit the Fomorians' alliance with them, since his father Elatha mac Delbaith was king of the Fomoire.”

So, bit more complicated and has inter-tribal strife along gendered lines in reality.

But Bres was half Fomorian, a name we've not heard tell of yet in this tale. But we soon will. In his rule he acted more as a Fomorian than as one of the Danu. But, the reign of Bres and the war against the ancient and strange Fomorians is a story for next time.

Okay, again, still, ‘the Danu’ just catches my ear and confuses me every time. Bres has come up in this story before and is an entirely reasonable person, and like, most of the Túatha Dé big-names are part Fomorian. The Dagda, Nuadu, and Ogma are all Bres’ brothers and also sons of Elatha of the Fomori. And, ‘acted more as a Fomorian than as one of the Danu’ is just such a loaded statement. Yes, the Fomorians are raiding slavers who exploit less powerful tribal groups for personal wealth. The Túatha Dé are, shockingly, raiding slavers who exploit less powerful tribal groups and we have just seen them slaughter the indiginous population of Ireland and regulate them to a small portion of their original land. There is no moral connection here, the Fomorians and the Túatha Dé are just supernatural peoples hanging out in Ireland. One isn’t good and one isn’t bad.

Anyways, that’s the end of the first of two videos put out on this. Hopefully I shall do the next one this weekend.

In conclusion, what we see here is just a very strange misrepresentation of the events of LGE and a bit of CMT. Entire scenes are made up, ‘the Danu’ as a sacred river is... absolute nonsense. The idea of a world tree and gods born from acorns is fictional. So much of this is just fictional, an outright lie, or very misleadingly represented that I really cannot recommend this as an introduction to medieval Irish saga literature. I am disappointed that so little care or research was put into this by the Extra Mythology series, where when the original texts are available for free and in translation they instead chose a fictional version of the story made up by a journalist. It is incredibly irresponsible in the least, especially that when contacted the concerns on the accuracy and validity of the story they had told to their audience was brushed away.

Oh well, on to the second half of this story.

[dwarven-beard-spores]

Nanny Ashtoreth and The Last Unicorn

So a while ago @mirawonderfulstar​ sent me an ask about Crowley reading to Warlock, which prompted meta as well as a chapter in MALWL. They also suggested The Last Unicorn which I haven’t read since I was like 8, so I reread it and confirmed that Yes, this is a good Crowley book, so here! Have some headcanons! Bc there is way too much book to write a proper chapter about.

Uhhh major spoilers for The Last Unicorn under the cut. (922 words)

TL;DR, Crowley gets Way More Emotions Than She Bargained For.

Oh, and I welcome input that builds on this if you’ve got it ;D

-Crowley flipped through the book one time while waiting for Aziraphale and years later thought “yeah, this seems like the fun kind of fantasy Warlock would enjoy.”

-And then the first chapter includes passages like this: “...but then, [the unicorn] had no idea of months and years and centuries, or even of seasons. It was always spring in her forest, because she lived there, and she  wandered all day among the great beech trees, keeping watch over the animals that lived in the ground and under bushes, in nests and caves, earths and treetops. Generation after generation, wolves and rabbits alike, they hunted and loved and had children and died, and as the unicorn did none of those things, she never grew tired of watching them.” and “From that first moment of doubt, there was no peace for her; from the time she first imagined leaving her forest, she could not stand in one place without wanting to be somewhere else… Unicorns are not meant to make choices. She said no, and yes, and no again, day and night, and for the first time she began to feel the minutes crawling over her like worms.” and the unicorn leaves her forest and it begins to age. And Crowley was not expecting Immortality Feelings or Garden Feelings or Experiencing Doubt For The First Time feelings, and she is Overwhelmed. She’ll get to the end of the chapter, she decides, and that will be the end of it.

-But Warlock is already hooked and will have none of that.

-Crowley gives in.

-There is a butterfly the unicorn meets early on who talks in snatches of quotes and poems, and Crowley reads it in Aziraphale’s voice.

-When the unicorn became suddenly aware of aging and time passing and death, Crowley also felt it, felt the years before the apocalypse slipping away. When she finished reading that night she secretly got very drunk.

-Schmendrick says: “It is a rare man who is taken for who he truly is… now I knew you for a unicorn when I first saw you, and I know that I am your friend. Yet you take me for a clown, or a clod, or a betrayer, and so must I be if you see me so. The magic on you is only magic and will vanish as soon as you are free, but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes. We are not always what we seem, and hardly ever what we dream.” “Pay attention,” says Crowley, seeing both a child and an antichrist, knowing he sees a nanny and Aziraphale sees a demon. “Fools in stories have the most interesting things to say.” ”If you believe I’m a unicorn,” Warlock reasons, “does that mean I’ll really be one?”

-Crowley hopes or expects that Warlock will align himself with Prince Lir, that would make things easy. But Warlock is a young child who likes magical creatures and holds sticks to his forehead and whinnys because he thinks the unicorn is the greatest thing ever.

-He charges Aziraphale once and pokes him and Crowley thinks it’s hilarious.

-If anyone asks, Crowley’s favorite character is the skull who knows the way to the Red Bull, whose whole purpose in life is to be a nuisance and who thirsts for wine.

-In reality, she likes Molly Grue the best, because there’s something so solidly human about her.

-Schmendrick turns the unicorn into a young woman, Lady Amalthea, and in a different shape she is afraid she will not be able to turn back, and the longer she lives as a human the more she actually becomes a human. And if you think Crowley isn’t affected by that...

-”I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death, though I cannot weep, and I want nothing, and I cannot die. I am not like the others now, for no unicorn was ever born who could regret, but I do. I regret.”

-She and Warlock have a long conversation about whether it would be better to be human or a unicorn. It’s ongoing.

-The understanding of life following the rules of story, especially for heroes, is a big theme that they also talk about.

-Look Crowley’s not gonna understand the significance of this now or possibly ever but just tell me that this: “Prince Lir stood between [Lady Amalthea’s] body and the Bull, weaponless, but with his hands up as though they still held a sword and shield. Once more in that endless night, the prince said “No.” He looked very foolish and he was about to be trampled flat. The Red Bull could not see him, and would kill him without ever knowing that he had been in the way. Wonder and love and great sorrow filled Schmendrick the Magician then, and came together inside him, and filled him, filled him until he felt himself brimming and flowing with something that was none of these.” does not give you major tire iron feelings.

-Warlock enacts the final freeing of the unicorn in his bath, and there is significantly more splashing all over the floor than in the book.

-Schmendrick and Molly walk off singing a song about love regardless of deception and I have a lot of feelings about that.

-And most importantly, Crowley absolutely says “Amalthea” on accident more than once when talking to/about Anathema. Sometimes while completely sober.

[thepatchworkcrow]

Witchcraft Asks #1-105

So, just for @dearpenumbra and because I’m wide awake and bored and want to answer them: Here is the list of the 105 witchcraft questions I just finished answering. I answered one each day but feel free to answer them all at once or however you want to do it. Tag your it!

1. Are you solitary or in a coven? I am technically a solitary, though I have friends with whom I occasionally celebrate the sabbats and do other witchy things with.

2. Do you consider yourself Wiccan, Pagan, witch, or other? I use ‘Pagan’, ‘witch’, and ‘Druid’ to describe myself. My path of Druidry is inherently pagan because of its reverence of the earth and all life, and it contains practices that are part of witchcraft.

3. What is your zodiac sign? I am a Cancer!

4. Do you have a Patron God/dess? I do, for sake of Tumblr, I call them The Hunter and The Lady of the Lantern. They’re deities I’ve not found in any mythology- sort of my own unique perspective / interaction with the divine forces of the universe, and so I keep the names I call to them in ritual private.

5. Do you work with a Pantheon? I do work with other deities beyond my patron god and goddess. A lot of them are from the various Celtic pantheons and include: Brighid, Gofannon the Smith, Cerridwen, Mannanan Mac Lir, and Gwyn ap Nudd.

6. Do you use tarot, palmistry, or any other kind of divination? I read tarot, runes, and ogham. I own an agate scrying mirror, but it’s very finnicky and I’d love to learn palmistry some day.

7. What are some of your favorite herbs to use in your practice? (if any) I use sage for cleansing, mugwort for a couple of blends of incense for divination, and lavender to cleansing, peace, intuition, etc.

8. How would you define your craft? It’s a path of Druidry dedicated to the Wylde Hunt.

9. Do you curse? If not, do you accept others who do? I have cursed- only in extreme situations, and the curse I used was aimed more at making the target realize how negative and toxic the bullshit they’ve been spewing/causing is. Sort of a “You’re going to realize the full horror of your actions” kind of a thing.

10. How long have you been practicing? The summer solstice will mark my 13th year.

11. Do you currently or have you ever had any familiars? I have familiar spirits: a black dog that goes by the name Yew, and a raven with a gold stripe on its beak named Gildenbeck. I’ve never had a familiar in the sense of a pet who does witchy stuff with me though.

12. Do you believe in Karma or Reincarnation? I believe in reincarnation and that our cations in one life affect the next. I’ve done  a past life regression before, but that’s a story for a post that isn’t QUITE this long.

13. Do you have a magical name? I used to. I’ve got through a number of them over the years, changing them out as I see fit. My most recent one was actually the name I started this blog under: Brenna Adaira, but I’ve since outgrown it, and don’t really feel the need for one.

14. Are you “out of the broom closet”? Yes. I have been from the very beginning.

15. What was the last spell you performed? Shit. I don’t even remember. I’m not super big on spells. Anything more complex than carving a candle and charging it with intention to leave burn on my altar is usually not something I bother with.

16. Would you consider yourself knowledgeable? This is a silly question. As I’ve been practicing 13 years, and as someone with a bachelor’s degree, I’d say yes. I am knowledgeable about a number of things. However, I recognize there are many things I’m not knowledgeable about and there is always room for growth and learning.

17. Do you write your own spells? Since they’re very slapdash? Yes. They get written as I’m throwing spell components together to just DO THE THING.

18. Do you have a book of shadows? If so, how is it written and/or set up? I have recently started compiling a more formal grimoire of my path and all of its integral components. My working book of shadows however is always a sketchbook that gets carried around with me literally everywhere. It’s got drawings, scribbled poetry, journal entries, cut and pasted pictures, ritual outlines, musings, research notes, etc. and it’s all pretty out of order and chaotic. But I love the freedom of not having to be too careful with how I structure things and just let everything happen organically.

19. Do you worship nature? I do not worship nature. I honor the forces of nature; I treat them with respect and work to do my best to live in harmony with them. We are part of nature, not separate beings.

20. What is your favorite gemstone? Oof. This is a tough one. Moss Agate or Moonstone... but also Citrine and Opal. xD

21. Do you use feathers, claws, fur, pelt, skeletons/bones, or any other animal body part for magical work? I have a pheasant wing fan I use for smoke cleansing. I also have a small set of antlers that I’m still meaning to make into a proper headdress for ritual wear. Right now, they sit with my statute of The Hunter and the rest of my Wylde Hunt stuff.

22. Do you have an altar? Usually, yes. At the moment I don’t because I’ve been sort of in-transit for months. I’m moving back home at the end of the week though, and setting up an altar is the FIRST thing I intend to do.

23. What is your preferred element? Air. I love wind, stars, storms, gentle breezes through the forest, music, singing, the power of words.

24. Do you consider yourself an Alchemist? Not even in the slightest. XD

25. Are you any other type of magical practitioner besides a witch? Already answered above, but I’m a Druid! ^_^

26. What got you interested in witchcraft? I answered this in my previous post.

27. Have you ever performed a spell or ritual with the company of anyone who was not a witch? Yes! We used to frequently invite non-pagan friends to celebrate sabbats with us. One year, we actually erected a Maypole in my backyard and did a maypole dance.

28. Have you ever used ouija? Nope, and I would never. I don’t need it to speak with my guides, I don’t wanna poke at the dead, and I don’t trust them as reliable tools.

29. Do you consider yourself a psychic? I have strong intuition, but I wouldn’t call myself a psychic.

30. Do you have a spirit guide? If so, what is it? I have a couple, but the main one appears to me as a sort of elven / druidic entity (kinda Tolkien elf-ish with the blonde hair and all that). He goes by the name of Brannan and has been sort of my Druid guide both before and during my OBOD studies.

31. What is something you wish someone had told you when you first started? I wish someone had taught me really basic grounding and centering exercises and energy work first. Instead, I jumped right into gods and spells and rituals and all sorts of silliness early on in my path.

32. Do you celebrate the Sabbats? If so which one is your favorite? I haven’t this past year or so because I’ve been trying to get my bearings post-college again. But my favorite is Midsummer. It’s closest to my birthday, marks the anniversary of my dedication to studying witchcraft, and is just always a super heightened time for me spiritually speaking.

33. Would you ever teach witchcraft to your children? Yes. There’s another, longer blog post coming about my thoughts on this, but the short version of it is that I would rather give them some manner of religious context and collection of traditions and heritage than leave them completely on their own to consider the big universal questions religion is supposed to answer.

34. Do you meditate? Not nearly as often as I would like, but at least a couple of times a month.

35. What is your favorite season? Autumn. I love the gloom and the smell of the leaves, and the rain and how windy it gets, and the colors, and of course all of the things like pumpkin spice and Halloween. It’s another time of deep spiritual work for me. This is when the Wylde Hunt rides, and I mark my progress on my path in devotion to them.

36. What is your favorite type of magick to preform? I don’t actually like doing magick other than charging and burning candles. I’m sort of a lazy witch and usually find it more necessary to do inner work to get through a problem than to try and effect change in the world around me.

37. How do you incorporate your spirituality into your daily life? I take actions that align with my spiritual goals: living in harmony with the natural world, creating beautiful things, never stopping my own growth and learning, and compassion for others. I recycle where I can, try to reduce waste and reuse things. I take walks in nature and spend time in the woods. I stay informed so I can vote in ways that put people in power who care about our world. I take time to notice beauty in small places: a bird flying over head, stars in the winter sky, the way the sun is coming in through a window. When all of life is sacred, the spiritual path is not separate from the rest of your life. It becomes the lens through which you frame your life.

38. What is your favorite witchy movie? If I had to choose.... damn. I really can’t. The triad of Hocus Pocus, The Craft, and Practical Magic kinda take that place. I love them all in different ways.

39. What is your favorite witchy book, both fiction and non-fiction. Why? My favorite witchy books... Non-fiction: Living Druidry by Emma Restall-Orr, because it’s a look at Druidry through a Druid’s eyes. It introduces Druid concepts without the formal textbook layout, and I love reading about her experiences. Fiction: The Tree Shepherd’s Daughter and the associated series by Gillian Summers because who wouldn’t love a book about an elf who talks to trees whose day job to hide among humans is to make furniture to sell at Renaissance Festivals? Like... It’s just good, okay?

40. What is the first spell you ever preformed? Successful or not. This got answered in my last post. 

41. What’s the craziest witchcraft-related thing that’s happened to you? And so did this one!

42. What is your favourite type of candle to use? I typically use those cheap chime candles or tealights. They burn down quickly and are easy to get ahold of.

43. What is your favorite witchy tool? I would have to say my drum. I love love love love raising energy with it or doing trance work while drumming.

44. Do you or have you ever made your own witchy tools? All of my wands have been handmade and my altar statues are all sculpted by hand. My ogham staves are handmade, and I’ve made a set of runes in the past, but they weren’t fond of me. XD

45. Have you ever worked with any magical creatures such as the fea or spirits? Ohhhh yes. Lots! The Wylde Hunt is one such example, but I’ve also worked with goblins and other various fae.

46. Do you practice color magic? I use color associations loosely, but don’t adhere to them too much.

47. Do you or have you ever had a witchy teacher or mentor of any kind? I did, sort of. My mom’s best friend was the one who bought me my first tarot deck, taught me how to read, etc. She gave me witchy homework now and then, but it wasn’t really a formal mentorship. She’s like another mother to me though, and I love her lots. <3

48. What is your preferred way of shopping for witchcraft supplies? Unfortunately, my preferred way is no longer possible. My local shop closed down in Feb of 2017 and I have been super sad ever since. I’m still trying to find a suitable alternative.

49. Do you believe in predestination or fate? I believe that we have free will and that the Universe sort of fills in the gaps. I think somethings are sort of “meant” to happen, but I don’t think everything is set in stone.

50. What do you do to reconnect when you are feeling out of touch with your practice? I light candles at my altar and just open myself to the energies, or I go on a walk with my friend, Mark. We always get into super deep conversations that get me back in the vibe.

51. Have you ever had any supernatural experiences? I could fill an ENTIRE post just on this alone, but yes. Plenty.

52. What is your biggest witchy pet peeve? Answered!

53. Do you like incense? If so what’s your favorite scent? I love incense! I tend to burn a lot of Dragon’s Blood, though I’ve recently discovered one called Mountain Heather that I am ALSO in love with.

54. Do you keep a dream journal of any kind? I keep weirdly vivid dreams in the notepad function on my phone. It’s usually right near my pillow and I just tap what I remember in there and try to go back to sleep.

55. What has been your biggest witchcraft disaster? Man, I can’t really think of a time things went horribly wrong to be honest.

56. What has been your biggest witchcraft success? Maintaining my practice and developing it into something uniquely my own.

57. What in your practice do you do that you may feel silly or embarrassed about? I know some people would say having spirit guides and such is silly. There are others who would say that energy work and psychic vampirism and the like are kinda woo-y and weird too.

58. Do you believe that you can be an atheist, Christian, Muslim or some other faith and still be a witch too? Anyone from any religion can be a witch. Witchcraft is a practice, not a religious path. Anyone can learn to raise and manipulate energy regardless of which deity they do/n’t worship.

59. Do you ever feel insecure, unsure or even scared of spell work? I just don’t usually feel a need for it. It’s usually able to be solved by mundane means or by doing inner personal work.

60. Do you ever hold yourself to a standard in your witchcraft that you feel you may never obtain? Don’t we all have perfectly aesthetic rituals that leave us feeling profound as a standard which we don’t ever quite meet? Aren’t we all secretly pining for Tumblr/Instagram worthy altars?

61. What is something witch related that you want right now? I actually really want to get a Tarokka deck, which is a tarot-esque oracle used in the D&D Curse of Strahd campaign. I want them for the campaign, but also to use for actual divination because it sounds like fun to try.

62. What is your rune of choice? I’m very partial to Kenaz (light, illumination, guidance), and Laguz (movement, water travel, magic, intuition).

63. What is your tarot card of choice? The 8 of Cups, The Star, and the 3 of Swords are all sort of cards I look at to determine if I’ll love or hate a deck.

64. Do you use essential oils? If so what is your favorite? I do use some, albeit sparingly. I’m rather fond of patchouli, sage, and a heather one I found.

65. Have you ever taken any kind of witchcraft or pagan courses? I’m currently wrapping up the Order of Bards Ovates and Druids’ Bardic Grade Course.

66. Do you wear pagan jewelry in public? Right now, my everyday necklace is a nine-pointed star which is supposed to represent the 9 sisters of Avalon, of whom Morgan le Fay was one.

67. Have you ever been discriminated against because of your faith or being a witch? Yes. Once, in early high school by a teacher. And once in college by some preppy sorority girl who wandered over to the LGBT clubs’ table at a Campus Life event looking to cause an argument.

68. Do you read or subscribe to any pagan magazines? Not magazines, but I follow a number of blogs both on Tumblr, Patheos, and Wordpress.

69. Do you think it’s important to know the history of paganism and witchcraft? Yes. Absolutely. The Burning Times weren’t about real witches. Modern paganism is not ancient paganism, and the context of myth, traditional practices, etc. are important.

70. What are your favorite things about being a witch? The language and tools I have with which to describe my experiences and think about and interact with the rest of the universe.

71. What are your least favorite things about being a witch? Being a conscious being and co-creator with spirit is freaking hard, yo.

72. Do you listen to any pagan music? If so who is your favorite singer/band? My absolute fave is Damh the Bard, but also give S.J. Tucker and OMNIA a listen. <3

73. Do you celebrate the Esbbats? If so, how? I used to do Dark Moon tea and meditation time with the Dark Goddess. Usually if I do something for any of the moon phases it’s sort of spur of the moment these days.

74. Do you ever work skyclad? I don’t, because I currently lack private space to do so.

75. Do you think witchcraft has improved your life? If so, how? Well, I am an empowered being with knowledge and love of the Universe and the divine connections between us all. I’m also equipped with various techniques for performing inner transformative work as well as affecting change in the world around me. What’s not to love?

76. Where do you draw inspiration from for your practice? My practice is a lot of “Solitary Wicca” meets OBOD druidry, meets a sort of Dragonheart ‘knights of the Old Code’ sort of feel. It’s about nature, creativity, and living honorably.

77. Do you believe in ‘fantasy’ creatures? (Unicorns, fairies, elves, gnomes, ghosts, etc) I do. I don’t believe they exist corporeally in this plane of existence though.

78. What’s your favorite sigil/symbol? I’m not sure I could pick one... but if I had to, I’d say the symbol for Awen.

79. Do you use blood magick in your practice? Why or why not? I’ve used blood in magic exactly twice. Once was in a dedication rite to The Hunter, and the other was to the Wylde Hunt. Both times it was blood from something like a paper cut or popped blister, whatever that was already available. I used it as a potent source of energy but also as a sympathetic tie to myself. Since I was dedicating myself to said entity, using it as a taglock made sense.

80. Could you ever be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t support your practice? Absolutely not. Thank you, next.

81. In what area or subject would you most like your craft to grow? I’m looking to pursue the OBOD’s further courses. I want to become a celebrant for the order and perform marriage, death, etc. rites for others within the order as well as those in the pagan community.

82. What’s your favorite candle scent? Do you use it in your practice? I love candles that smell like mulled spices or coffee or pumpkin. I don’t use them for magic, just for ambiance.

83. Do you have a pre-ritual ritual? (I.e. Something you do before rituals to prepare yourself for them). If so what is it? I ground and center before every ritual. Beyond that, I’m usually doing magic on the fly.

84. What real life witch most inspires your practice? Emma Restall-Orr, whom I’m not sure would identify as a witch. She’s technically a druid and author of various books and I love how gritty and honest and earthy what she shares is.

85. What is your favorite method of communicating with deity? I like to get somewhere quiet, and channel them through sort of automatic writing. I also frequently use visualization / meditation techniques to go to my sacred grove and speak with them there.

86. How do you like to organize all your witchy items and ingredients? What is this... organize you speak of? All spell components are in wee jars in a drawer. xD

87. Do you have any witches in your family that you know of? My mom was a practicing Wiccan when I was little, and my sister has interest in witchcraft.

88. How have you created your path? What is unique about it? Answered in my last post. 

89. Do you feel you have any natural gifts or affinities (premonitions, hearing spirits, etc.) that led you toward the craft? If so what are they? I have a strange knack for vibing with plants/crystals/etc. and just knowing what they can be used for. I’ve also always had the ability to sort of see/hear things not there: spirits, fae, etc.

90. Do you believe you can initiate yourself or do you have to be initiated by another witch or coven? To be initiated implies you are entering into a group. The OBOD gives you the opportunity to initiate yourself if you aren’t close enough to a grove, but the point stands that it’s a ritual given to you by someone else. You can dedicate yourself to a specific path, but initiation implies you’re being included in something you once were not included in.

91. When you first started out in your path what was the first thing or things you bought? I’m pretty sure it was a new tarot deck, tbh. It’s been too long. I don’t remember.

92. What is the most spiritual or magickal place you’ve been? Answered in the last post: but Avebury, England.

93. What’s one piece of advice you’d give someone who is searching for their matron and patron deities? They aren’t necessary for a balanced and successful path. I know it can be weird not having a specific god/ddess but it’s really really really not necessary to find one right away  to be able to have a successful practice.

94. What techniques do you use to ‘get in the zone’ for meditation? I dim the lights, drink some coffee or wine, get somewhere comfy, and put on some quiet music.

95. Did visualization come easily to you or did you have to practice at it? It used to come a lot more easily to me. I realized I was using it as sort of escapism and stopped, and have been building it back again.

96. Do you prefer day or night? Why? I prefer night. Everyone else is asleep and it gives me time and space to think and work on things without being disturbed.

97. What do you think is the best time and place to do spell work? The best time and place is when and where you need it most.

98. How did you feel when you cast your first circle? Did you stumble or did it go smoothly? We forgot to include a means of opening the circle in our first ritual’s notes. So... sort of a stumble.

99. Do you believe witchcraft gets easier with time and practice? Yes... and no. Because with time and practice, you come to find deeper things, and bigger truths. It builds upon itself.

100. Do you believe in many gods or one God with many faces? In my belief system, all gods are separate beings, but all a part of the Great Song of Creation that gives life to the universe.

101. Do you eat meat, eggs and dairy? I do! No restrictive diets here.

102. What is your favorite color and why? I can’t truthfully pick one. I’m fond of burgundy lately.

103. What is the one question you get asked most by non-practitioners or non-pagans? How do you usually respond? “I really like your necklace; what does that symbol mean?” To which I say “I got it at a renaissance festival; it’s supposed to represent the nine sisters of Morgen LeFay.” which seems to be an acceptable response.

104. Which of your five senses would you say is your strongest? Probably my sight.

105. What is a pagan or witchcraft rule that you preach but don’t practice? “Always cast a circle.” I recommend it for new folks, but I rarely ever actually cast one myself.

[bigeyedchangelingchild]

Religion rant. Beware of Heresy below the cut. Also I will mention Suicide near the end.

So back the February before I came to UL I said my shahada. And I’d say I followed well enough to the best of my ability for a few months and sort of fell out living in Ireland, because I felt anxious about it, I thought it’d be easier here without living at home, but literally everything except prayer my mum was fine me doing, she usually bought halal meat anyway, and stuff like that, just wasn’t that removed from my life already. But in Ireland, people were drinking and I was pressured for my modest dress, and living at home, even prayer, my mum either didn’t hear me, or assumed I was just singing something, but here I had roommates, and they weren’t ambivalent about Islam, most Irish people have “thoughts” about islam that are :/

So I moved away from it, I also moved back to the religion I was raised in somewhat, my Irish teacher invited me to a Beltaine festival and it was honestly amazing, I wore a straw skirt and mask and danced to welcome spring, it was how Samhain was when I was a kid, but with more voyeurism. 

Today I saw a Muslim man (two actually, but I only really talked to the one, the other one only came out after) and they talked to me about Islam and I said the shahada again (re-affirming that I deserve hell essentially, because like what a sin to say shahada twice and not follow the Quran.) 

He asked me why I’m not Muslim and I can’t answer, I said I don’t know I said I’m scared, and I am, but I also I am I’ve said shahada I on some level do believe Mohammed as a profit, I don’t understand why this is so complicated on me.

I’m going to share some stuff I’ve never shared and I somewhat believe is bringing responsibility of any harm done by sharing it so I’d appreciate not replicating or sharing what’s written here as much as possible, I know it’s the internet, but I’m in a wierd position needing to talk, but not feeling comfortable talking to anyone I know in my religion.

So to my original religion, to my faith I was raised in, the basic tenant is that there are multiple gods and goddesses (or angels, or spirits or however you may call them) and they have no limitation on communication with humans. Essentially people do not need to spread their word because they can do it fine themselves, they are not all powerful, and they are not inherently good, in fact good and bad does not exist all things are capable of creating harm or helping. I was given mostly free reign that what I believed was what made sense to me, I never was told I had to think a certain way, there were things taught to me, the Béan Cranóg taught the children (about 12 of us were raised in our “coven” I’ll say) about the cycle of life, (it’s born it lives and it dies) and how our actions affect others. And the festivals had other aspects, for Samhain winter and summer (or two adults dressed as them) would fight and winter would win, and someone would explain that the fight would happen again in spring, and that they always fight, and that they cannot exist without each other, without winter there is no summer, without summer there is no winter, without death there is no life, etc. Those fighting as winter and summer would make arguments why  they should win, and we would learn what we get from them. 

We had chants, I won’t share because that would be very much against but one was about how we change seasons, light a torch and change foods, one was about the goddess that changes all he touches, and one was about how we all will return to the mother and father, and how we came from them.

We burned the wicker man and had a feast of an animal roast on a spit and root vegetables, typically a lamb but also sometimes a pig, always the entire animal, that was a really important part of it, the community comes together and shares the food, and part of it was about how the animal represented our continuation of the cycle of life (why I say I can’t be vegan/vegetarian for religious reasons) sometimes one of the families would do a play of one of the old gods stories, like the children of lir stuff, (google can help there) but not always it wasn’t required, just something nice, and then we had a fire all night, with non-alcoholic cider for children and beer for adults, everyone could go to bed whenever once the ceremony was over.

We would dress as animals also.

Also, we had a thing where Saint Patrick would come and try and convert us to Christianity and we would chase him off and burn his hat and robe and sing a pagan once again (to the tune of a nation once again).

The thing is I fully believe 100% all the things I was raised with, and I had a goddess who spoke to me through my whole life when I had questions or anxieties, and she told me at the end of the year before I first said shahada I will find community in Islam, but now I’m stuck  because I don’t know what she meant, she can’t mean Islam is correct because she’s told me things directly contridicting the Quran, but she told me that, so what am I doing?

Secondary religious experience (suicide stuff here turn away if you need to)

When I was 12 I attempted suicide, and I broke my arm in the attempt, a man came to me and helped me, he told me his name was leaf, he took  me back to my mum’s house and he brought me a sense of overwhelming calm. He told me he had been working in the garage in the house down the block from where I was and that he came when he heard me, my mum later knocked on all the doors in that area but no one had heard of him, so I feel fairly confident, (and I don’t want to be challenged on it I know it’s sounds ridiculous please leave that part alone) that he was a God (in the pagan since) which is something I also can’t reconcile, and now I’m saying yes there is one God but I don’t know if I believe it, but it’s less that I don’t and more that I wholeheartedly believe contradictory things.