#ancestral offerings

[krishnayangaurakshala]

Shradh, also known as Pitru Paksha, is a profound Hindu ritual deeply rooted in the cultural and religious fabric of India. It serves as a poignant remembrance of departed loved ones, offering a platform for families to honor their ancestors and ensure their spiritual well-being. This sacred observance encompasses various rituals and customs aimed at paying homage to the deceased and facilitating their journey into the afterlife.

Performing Shradh involves a combination of ceremonies, including Puja (worship), Daan (charity), and Tarpan (offering). These acts are believed to not only honor the departed souls but also provide them with blessings and assistance in their transition to higher realms.

One significant aspect of Shradh is the reverence shown towards cows, often referred to as Gaumata, or mother cow, in Hinduism. According to Hindu belief, cows are sacred beings, revered as embodiments of divine qualities. Feeding cows during Shradh is considered a meritorious deed that benefits both the giver and the departed souls.

Here’s why feeding Gaugrass to cows is considered auspicious during Shradh:

Spiritual Merit: In Hindu cosmology, cows are revered as sacred creatures, housing the presence of numerous divine entities. Feeding Gaugrass to cows is believed to accrue spiritual merit not only for the giver but also for the souls of departed ancestors.

Symbolic Offering: Offering Gaugrass to cows symbolizes a gesture of respect and gratitude towards these gentle creatures. It is seen as a way of acknowledging their significance in Hindu culture and honoring their role as providers of sustenance.

Benefit to Departed Souls: The act of feeding Gaugrass is believed to bring solace and satisfaction to the departed souls. It is thought to provide nourishment to the ancestors in their spiritual journey, offering them comfort and support in the afterlife.

Removal of Obstacles: By serving cows with devotion and sincerity, individuals seek to remove obstacles and impediments in their own lives as well as in the journey of their ancestors. It is believed that fulfilling the needs of Gaumata brings blessings and removes negativity.

In essence, feeding Gaugrass to cows during Shradh is not only a religious obligation but also a profound expression of reverence and compassion towards all living beings. It embodies the interconnectedness of life and the importance of honoring both the departed and the divine manifestations present in the world around us.

#shraad #nonprofit #tarpan #pind daan #ancestral offerings #krishnyangauraksha

[randomnameless]

@fantasyinvader and I talked about a few days ago about Adrestian nobles being dudes who were supposed to lead and protect/guide their people (per Hanneman's support) but also were people who knew the land they governed over and its people (in Ferdie's Supreme support in Nopes).

What if this idea of the perfect noble (tm) was pulled out and/or theorised in the Willy Era?

How would that vision of a perfect noble fit with Adrestian history, aka, Willy's conquest?

WoH thoughts below the cut

Willy'n'pals started from Enbarr, and ultimately extended their first influence to what would later become the Hresvelg Domain.

I suppose they eventually came to control Bergliez - did they kick out the clan/people who were ruling Bergliez there to put an Enbarrian there, or was Willy's MO to keep the ruling clans there - to mirror Ferdie's claim as the ruling clans were the ones who knew the land and its people better than some schmuck from Enbarr - after swearing allegiance and fealty to Adrestia?

Assuming it worked with Bergliez and the clan controlling this area, how the crap was it supposed to work with, idk, Gloucester's clan, since Rhea absolutely wanted to kill Gloucester himself?

Were the Elite's clan just, happy to accept Adrestia's influence and rule (whatever that meant) and let their leader be beheaded?

From FE16's history books, we know Willy terminated clans who wanted "more power" - was it the "excuse" given when a clan refused to bow to Adrestia and fought to preserve their autonomy?

And yet, from the same FE16, in the Yuri paralogue, it's inferred that some clans who were siding against the Empire and with the Elites... fled to Dagda.

I earlier surmised Willy (and Macuil?) striked down clans who "knew"* what Relics were, and/or how to make them, because they might possibly seek to make a new one and that's a big no to him. In that sense, Willy destroying clans who want "power" would actually mean Willy destroyed clans who wanted "new relics" or to make "relics".

So, following this theory, Willy wanted to erase a clan, but some members escaped and ran away to Dagda, where they crafted the Fetters of Dromi, which were ultimately offered to Duke Gerth.

Still, if the best nobles are the ones who know the land and its people (and have the trust of said people), what would have happened to lands controlled by clans who were destroyed? Would they have been controlled by an Enbarr schmuck, or given to someone else?

Rhea ultimately rewrote history to make Nemesis'n'Dudes appear as fallen Heroes, as to not alienated their supporters - was it also a way to "pacify" their clans, as in, if Rhea terminates Blaiddyd, by painting him as a fallen hero who had to be terminated,instead of revealing the Truth, Blaiddyd's kinsmen won't want to avenge him by targeting Adrestia (at least some don't?) and they can still rule over what used to be their domain, but with some sort of Adrestian supervision ?

(which would later more or less explain why the Elite's families/clans are still, say, located North of Enbarr : Blaiddyd's son accepted Adrestia's rule, but in exchange, he was authorised to rule over his people in his former land, as he knew those people and this land best ?)

Granted, if this was how Willy "awarded" lands, I'm not surprised Lycaon was "found dead" 7 years after his nomination as Emperor, because I can guess some people who joined Willy, from Enbarr/Hresvelg, would have been pretty pissed if they couldn't snag a few plot of lands here and there because Willy allowed the defeated clans to rule over them - if his argument is "they lived there and know the people so they're more suited for this task than us from the South", then why is he giving the Empire to his son - who was on the battlefront with him, instead of giving the throne to whoever was ruling the Empire in Enbarr while they were fighting?

In a nutshell, I'm thinking of something like this :

Is the clan seeking to gain more power aka build relics (or worse, only knows how to make relics) ?

If yes, Wilhelm crushes them, end of the story.

If no they can still have governance over their lands and their people if they accept the Empire's terms and conditions and swear allegiance to Adrestia. If they don't, back to square one, they're crushed.

This way, Willy ensures the lands controlled by the Empire are administered by people who, supposedly, know how to administer them (no growing bacchus in Galatea) and I guess it reduces the risk of having a civil war, aka former clansmen or tribes rebelling against Adrestia because they don't trust the Adrestian administrator (then maybe in time, everyone will fully be Adrestianised, and they will even have forgotten they used to have been part of something else? Was Willy gunning for cultural assimilation?).

-> it gives the model of the "perfect" noble to both Ferdie and Hanneman, people prioritising their people's safety above all, guiding them and knowing them and their lands to ensure prosperity.

OTOH, if we follow this theory (basically a HC), I suppose it didn't vibe that well at home, aka in Adrestia or with the Empire's first allies (the dudes from Hresvelg/Enbarr), imagine if Leeroy Bergliez dies in a fight against Gloucester's clan, the Empire defeats Gloucester's clan but they accept to bend the knee, so Willy lets the Gloucesters** rule over their lands and people - what would the Bergliez say ? They bled and died in that fight, for... nothing? No new lands?

People are pissed at Willy + resent the "northerners" who "stole" lands that should have gone to them (but belonged to said northeners to begin with lel)

And the final straw is Willy appointing his son*** as his successor, and not whoever the fuck was in Enbarr running the show while the Emperor was away conquering Fodlan, Lycaon is stabbed 23 times, and the Empire Wilhelm built (or tried to) disappears, to be replaced with another version of "might makes right" Adrestia.

Tl;Dr : conquering lands to create an Empire is easier than the actual task of ruling said Empire - if Willy did the right and sensible thing as in, let the clans rule over their lands/people after taking over them because those clans knew how to rule/administrate over those lands and their people (instead of appointing Bergliez in Leicester after getting rid of the guy who was seen as the Alliance's leader), it earnt him (and his son!) the ire and resentment of his earliest supporters, who might have wanted to kill clan's heads to seize their lands for themselves.

In a way, if Ferdie and Hanneman seem to find Wilhelm's vision of what is a noble the goal they to aspire to, Wilhelm's idea of a noble was dead on arrival, because it cannot exist in an Empire like Adrestia.

---

*cruel, to kill people because they "know" how to make relics, and might not even want to craft one, but as we talked about it in 2020 iirc (?), that knowledge enough is sufficient to be a threat, like sure, Bob and Marty don't want to kill Cethleann to turn her in a battle axe, but what if Lorie told Jack, who in turned passed this secret to his daughter in law, who wants to have more "power" because she thinks her husband is only a lowly soldier and if he had a crest and a relic they would be well-off compared to now?

There are no solutions to this dilemna (Rhea was damn lucky the scholar who nearly found out this secret stopped his researches thinking the Goddess wouldn't want to know more, because I'm pretty sure if Randy knew it, he would have started to hunt "pointy ears" to have a shiny weapon at his disposal to demonstrate his muhrit) and while I often portray Willy as stupid, I usually HC him as ruthless on this issue (and supported by Macuil, the worst wing man), doubly so if his precious heir is a half-nabatean and can be targeted to "create" weapons.

How to bury a secret that spread out? Rhea opted to tell lies, I can see Willy, Adrestian (irl roman?) Willy being more practical and bury the people who know said secret, dead men tell no tales, right?

**I said Gloucesters because we have the Axe of Ukonvasara that is a holy weapon... resonating with a crest of Gloucester, so it could have been made for a dragon who had, originally, that power, or it might have been given to "turncoats", aka members of Gloucester's clan who joined Adrestia.

-> HC wise, Willy could recruit red units and give them shiny weapons (thanks to Indech !) once they became blue.

***One could say Lycaon following his father during his conquest would have known more of "Fodlan's lands" than a peon in Enbarr - especially if Lycaon has an extended lifespan by virtue of being half lizard, he spent 40 years travelling across Fodlan and came to know its people... even if all those years travelling and that knowledge only applied to the lands who were conquered (as they were conquered) and not Enbarr, so when he returns South, to the Nobles and whoever were living in Enbarr, Lycaon might be a stranger who spent more time "in the north" than in the South.

#random sunday thoughts #fodlan nonsense #fodlan AU #War of heroes stuff #Adrestia stuff #how to run an Empire 101 : you don't #is it the wilhelm hour? #I can see Willy initially thinking it'd be simple to fight against Nemesis to bring peace to Fodlan and rekt the Elites like #sure there's battle to do but bar that it shouldn't be difficult #and then you have Leeroy Bergliez's heirs asking for Gloucester land in compensation for their father's death #as he died against those people #but Willy already told the Gloucesters they can rule over their ancestral land if they swear to not backstab him and offer their assistance #in the fight and the clansmen accepted #the Bergliezs would be so fucking pissed #FE16 #of course we have Macuil giving the worst advice possible at any moment #else it wouldn't be funny lol #Cichol trying to mitigate the disaster

[friend-crow]

what do you offer your ancestors? like what kinds of offerings are acceptable?

Water, tea, booze, dedicated candles, incense, food, stuff they liked, if you know what kind of stuff that is.

But I think that time is huge, too. Your ancestors, if they're worth a damn, are probably a lot like your living relatives, if they're worth a damn -- they mostly want to spend time with you.

#ancestral veneration #offerings #ask #anon

[jellyfishjunkie]

I'm gna watch midsommar for the like 3rd time cause I love it and yes I'd be susceptible to cult tactics

#midsommar #if a swedish cult was offering me community and empathy id fall for it #its really too bad abt the racism #dani #pelle #a24 #i could excuse the muder #esp the guy who peed on the ancestral tree

[corbinite]

Ecofascism is "environmentalism" through the lens of blood and soil. It's about the "purity" of what you put in your body, of the people who own a land, and of the land itself. It's about not wanting to be "tainted" by "savagery" (note this is not nonviolence even if it tries to look like nonviolence). It's about land Belonging to white people and white people being entitled to a version of stewardship through dominance and blood ties. And at its core it's about ownership over nature and over the people who are degraded to be seen as less human and therefore "ownable". That's why ecofascists treat marginalized people as if they were invasive species.

Veganism is about nonviolence. That's it. It takes many forms but it is inherently about nonviolence and a REJECTION of ideas about any hierarchical nature of humanity or the earth. Veganism is not eating plant based because it's more "pure" or "wholesome" or even because it's less environmentally impactful on average. It's just a commitment to nonviolence.

How many of you claiming that veganism is ecofascism can actually list off the traits of ecofascism? Was my first paragraph the first time you've actually seen the word defined instead of just being used as a vague "veganism is colonialism because of [insert whichever factoid you wanna play telephone with this time]"? Was it the first time you heard an explanation of what it was past "well the maga shaman guy didn't eat meat so you connect the dots"? (which wasn't even true, he eats *organic* and that includes meat). Do you think you can identify and fight ecofascism without a working definition of the ideology? Let me clarify, I'm not even saying your definition is wrong. I'm saying you don't have one. If you don't actually have a model of what ecofascists BELIEVE IN to reference, do you think you can pretend to be an authority on how to fight them? The end goal of ecofascism is genocide justified as "fighting overpopulation" and "keeping the land under its rightful protectors. It has to be actively and competently opposed at all costs. You cannot be an activist on vibes alone. You certainly can be a reactionary though.

#mine #vegan #veganism #and i know my audience so I'm sure this doesn't need to be clarified #but JUST IN CASE let's make it clear: #one of the big reasons why landback is different from ecofascism is because it's NOT about blood and soil #(even though it might be seen as such through a defensive white lens) #landback is about centering the NATIONS that have operated sustainably in the past #it's about their sovreignty over themselves not their ownership of the land because of blood #I've never been made to feel like i cannot participate in the future landback offers as a white person #it may not be about me because I'm not heir to the trauma that the movement centers #but the future that landback offers isn't about Native Blood and Rulership being necessary to protect the earth #please forgive the whitesplaining and do correct me on anything I'm wrong about in the tags here #I'm not gonna put it in the main body of the post cause i feel like I'm not an authority to broadcast the definition of landback #but i do wanna just preempt anyone going 'well landback must be bad too then because ancestral ownership of land is bad' (not what i said) #or 'well if landback's focus is okay then you must have misdefined ecofascism to suit your interests' #i can just see defensive white antivegan self-labeled activists getting weird about my post so i feel like it should be said just in case

[thealchemickalwitch]

🍎🕯 Samhain so far 🕯🍎

#witchcraft #samhain #halloween #witchcore #witch stuff #ancestral witches #green witch #crystal witch #storm witch #witch #hedge witch #herbal witchcraft #offerings #spirit work #spirits #graveyard #oak tree #cemetery

[femmesandhoney]

for clarity about what i consider my spiritual beliefs, i don't worship female goddesses or anything, but i do believe in the universe as an energetic reflection of our experiences on earth, reincarnation, spiritual guides, and that everything around us in natural and otherwise has energy and the universe speaks to us all the time through the material world. i give offerings to my spirit guides and ancestors all the time, call upon them, and pray to them. i take walks along the lakeside or in the forests to meditate. thats my realm of spirituality, which i can hope yall can see is not the same as any religion lmao.

#i prefer working with my spirit guides the most #but my ancestors i give offerings to sometimes but ancestral work is new to me and not as 'easy' #my guides like tea :) like me!

[pinkdreamblossom]

I've always been drawn to spirituality and metaphysics. It seems to be inherited from both of my parents.

My mom used to (actually I'm sure she still does) listen to Coast to Coast AM every night to lull her to sleep. I was scared of the dark and a lot of other things as a child so I slept in her bed a lot. I have no idea how she falls asleep listening to that show. I would be either intrigued or terrified as George Noory and his guests would talk about things such as aliens, ghosts, and pyramids.

She also used to take me on walks and point out which wild plants and flowers could be eaten or made into tea, and we'd enjoy a bite together.

I remember she had this huge book that was about astrology. I loved to bring it out during sleepovers so we could all read about our signs and gasp at how accurate it could be.

She also taught me how to pray the rosary.

My parents split up during my early years, and it wasn't long before my dad had this new girlfriend who was an old highschool sweet heart. She became an inspiration to me. I received some books from her; The Way of the Peaceful Warrior and The Ringing Cedar Series. Reading these through 8th and 9th grade opened the door to spiritual practices that forever changed my life, and I felt a potent calling from nature. I began meditating and seeking "enlightenment". I was even gifted a pointed quartz crystal (which mysteriously disappeared) by my aunt who practiced reiki. I had no idea the significance of crystals or how reiki was suppose to work at the time.

It wasn't until I was around the age of 18 that I made the connection to what I believed with witchcraft and paganism. Once I did, I took a visit to Pyewackets, the local witch shop, and purchased my first tarot deck. Along with that, I scoured the local thrift shops and managed to find a Silver Ravenwolf.

Let's fast forward a few years. I got deep into it. The forest was my church and the Fae eventually became my guides. For years I was learning and diving deep into the otherworld. I dove so deep I began to feel like I was drowning. Chaos and isolation started to wreak havoc on my well being. It wasn't just developing my practice anymore; it became escapism and there was no firm ground to stand on.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Jesus showed himself to me. My world flipped upside down. I felt like I could breathe again and I had firm footing and a good foundation. I decided anything remotely pagan would have to go. I even stopped studying herbalism because I associated it with witchcraft to heavily to stomach it. Legalism started to creep around me.

I eventually broke loose from the evangelical, protestant worldview as my desire to work with the elements and nature grew within me again.

I decided that suppressing my natural and inherited inclination towards a mystic outlook wasn't healthy, just as it's unhealthy to suppress your sexuality.

Yesterday, a ritual bath took place that was an initiation back into my pagan ways, guided by God.

I feel more connected to my spirituality then ever before. I'm so blessed and I hope others who experience a conflict between Christianity and Paganism can embrace themselves as who they are just as Jesus would. I know I won't always be accepted for this, and I know it will be hard at times. But I've never been truer to myself until now and no one can take that away from me.

I'm back, witches.

#ritual bath #christopagan #ancestral magic #folk magic #christianity #witchcraft #paganism #initiation #christian witch #witchblr #jesus is king #an act of love toward another is an offering to God

[ancestorsalive]

Offerings to Ancestors, artist unknown

Image Source: - MagPie (aka Olga Stanton)

#ancestors alive! #what is remembered lives #memory & spirit of place #ancient ways #sacred ways #folkways #traditions #past times #offerings #ritual #love #remembering #honouring #ancestral healing #ancestral medicine #imagika #ancestors offering

[babythegod]

#crying #for no reason #😿 #more life #blessed solar return #loml #past life lover #my inspiration #&muse #thank you #for simply #being you #💘 #what did you do to me? #is it voodoo ? #💝 #✨ #ancestral realm #offerings #exaltation #adoration #devotion #ascension #✨✨✨ #anyways doing great #adg #💕 #🦂

[heritageposts]

Namibian Presidency (official account), 13 Jan 2024

this comes after germany announced that they, in defense of israel, intend to intervene as a third party in the ICJ trial

in the official government statement, they argue that the accusations of genocide against israel "has no basis whatsoever," and declares themselves to be experts on recognizing genocide by virtue of the fact that they're the ones that committed the holocaust (yes, seriously)

small problem for our self-declared genocide experts though — it wasn't until 2021, over a hundred years after germany killed and enslaved tens of thousands of herero and nama people (in what is now present-day namibia), that the german state was willing to officially recognize that they had committed a genocide; a genocide where, about 80% of the indigenous population of the herero and nama people were wiped out, thousands were enslaved in concentrations camps (with death rates between 45 and 75 percent), and many hundreds medically experimented on.

here's a good article from al jazeera which lays out the history of the genocide, and why germany's offer of "reparations" were met with disgust and anger in namibia

this part, in particular, is worth highlighting:

Today, German Namibians make up 2 percent of Namibia’s 2.5 million population but own about 70 percent of the country’s land, most of it used for agriculture. Multiple state-led efforts to legally restore ancestral land to Indigenous peoples by buying land from private farmers have only partially succeeded because it has proven too expensive for the state. Although the Namibian government sought to transfer 43 percent (15 million hectares) of its total arable land to landless communities by 2020, it has only succeeded in acquiring about three million hectares.

#palestine #israel #gaza #south africa #germany #icj hearing #there's literally no country in planet earth that's less fit to speak of what constitutes a genocide than germany

[eatmangoesnekkid]

I shared with this lady today that my fitness is non-negotiable and is a reflection of the strength of my spirit. I’m not on and off with working out nor do I work out to get ready for bikini season. I have worked out pretty much consistently for the last 20 years. That's because exercising my body is akin to breathing. It is one way I clear out the gunk from my mind and emotions which is liberation for my mental, emotional and spiritual health. It doesn't matter what happened the day before, I know that exercise, whether gym time, HIIT classes, pole dance, belly dance, aerial dance, pilates, running up hills, long walks in the city, climbing stadium stairs, or hot yoga fuels the life force pulsing and protruding through my body that makes me feel delicious in the best ways possible no matter what challenges I'm facing. Working out for me is not-optional. My ancestral mothers know that I am not meant to walk this earth disconnected from my body and feeling sluggish and incapable. Sculpting a strong back, a strong ass, strong legs, strong arms, strong feet, etc. are some of the most important parts of my spiritual practice. Said differently: Your body is truly the altar. Bless it with some offerings of fitness if movement is accessible for you. Allow these words to be your reminder to get up and get out. -India Ame'ye, Author

[luminnara]

Gladiator | Feyd Rautha x Reader

REQUEST: Feyd-Rautha fights in the arena, hoping to win your favor and maybe even your hand.

Warnings: violence

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Feyd-Rautha didn’t know why your face was the only one he seemed able to pick out of the crowd. Out of all the eligible daughters the Houses had thrown at him, you were the one he couldn’t get out of his head. Deep down, he knew he should consider himself lucky for the privilege to have a say in his marriage, but most of the heiresses he had encountered did little to interest him and he had grown more than bored of the whole ordeal.

Until he was presented with you.

He had known little of your family, and he hadn’t cared to learn more. You had been from far away, and your culture was probably far different from his own. Perhaps it was arrogance that had fueled his initial disinterest, his ego rearing its ugly head. He had seen you and assumed you were boring and prudish, based on your style of clothing, and had initially been beyond irritated when you were offered up before him. He had cursed his uncle the Baron, and nearly killed the nearest servant. He had wanted nothing more than to be as far away from you as possible, exhausted and annoyed after a week of meeting princess after princess, all of whom he had rejected.

Why, then, had he become intrigued by you? Had it been the way you looked at him with such boredom, as if he had nothing to offer you? Had it been the information that he was simply one in a long list of suitors you were slogging through, much in the way he had been for what felt like an age? Or had it been the sudden revelation that you had more in common with him than he had thought possible, and the sudden knowledge that if he wished to catch your eye, tradition dictated he must show you a spectacular fight and defeat every other man whose goal was your hand in marriage?

“It is the way of her people,” Rabban had shrugged, oblivious to the way Feyd’s world was slowly being turned on its head. “I have heard that they were fighting long before House Harkonnen built our first arena.”

Now, Feyd-Rautha was stalking back and forth through the sand, thinking of all the ways he could slaughter his competition. He was one of ten, ten suitors, none of whom were drugged or weak from starvation the way his quarry on Giedi Prime always was. As he glared at the opponents around him, he knew that you were watching from the stands, in a luxurious box with your parents and ladies in waiting, and when a glance in your direction confirmed his suspicions, he was overcome with the desire to kill for you.

He had never felt that before. He was plenty familiar with the urge to maim, to slice and tear, to take lives—but he had never wanted to do it for another person. His darlings, in a sense, garnered that from him when he killed servants to feed them…but this was different. That was a life taken as a gift and a means to spoil them. This was a fight to the death, a way to prove himself to you…and for some strange reason, he wanted—no, needed—to succeed.

“Today we gather in the ancestral arena of our great House to honor a tradition which we have kept alive for one thousand generations!” A voice boomed. “Today, the Great Houses send their sons to fight for the hand of my daughter, and should they be so lucky, one will win her favor!”

Feyd-Rautha glanced at his nearest competitor, a round-faced man who was far too old to be marrying you. He knew the man thought he was safe; they had all received a speech on the importance of not actually killing each other, but Feyd had had no interest in listening nor adhering to the rules. If he was to truly win your hand, he knew he must make a grisly spectacle of himself. He had gone so far as to fight shirtless, so as to show you his smooth, unscarred skin, and display his enemies’ blood upon his flesh.

“Now, warriors…do battle!”

You watched from above as the fight commenced.

“I like the looks of that Halleck boy,” your mother commented as she peered through her positively ancient opera glasses.

Your eyes found the one she spoke of and you sighed. “He favors his right leg. He will not last.”

Your father plopped down in the throne next to you, a hearty laugh booking from his chest. “That’s my girl. Ever the strategist, with the sharpest eye in the known universe. Tell us, then, who do you predict will win? We can make a bet on it.”

“I hardly think gambling is appropriate on today of all days.” Your mother shot him a glare.

He only laughed louder.

“I like the Harkonnen.” You said, watching as Feyd-Rautha drove a blade into another man’s shoulder.

Your mother made a tutting noise. “He is…”

“Bloodthirsty,” your father offered.

“Yes,” you said, somewhat transfixed. “He is.”

Your eyes followed Feyd-Rautha’s every move, glued to his form as he lithely parried and dodged his opponents’ attacks. He was a surprisingly welcome sight after the many suitors you’d turned your nose up at, and while he had initially bored you just as the rest had, there was something in his demeanor that had piqued your interest.

Upon meeting, you had both been irritated and more than ready to stay unmarried forever. You had heard that Feyd-Rautha had also been meeting potential suitors, and if the rumor mill was correct, he had nearly killed more than one of them. When you had first laid eyes upon the pale, hairless Harkonnen heir, you had immediately decided that you might give this one a chance; many of the others you had met had seemed ill suited, abhorred by the concept of fighting for your hand in an archaic ritual. Feyd-Rautha, however, had changed when he had heard, shifting from disinterested to focused, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement at the prospect of a duel.

Now, he was stalking through the sand below you, wielding wickedly sharp hunting knives as he attacked a competitor from behind. He wasn’t above fighting dirty, you noted, his blackened teeth bared as he head butted another man. Only six remained including him, the other four having given up or lying unconscious at the feet of their opponents.

“He’s going to kill someone!” Your father exclaimed, his voice gleeful.

“And what a diplomatic nightmare that will be,” your mother mumbled.

You weren’t sure if Feyd-Rautha had truly taken any lives so far that afternoon, but as he drove a knife into the gut of another fighter, you surmised that your mother may be spending the rest of her day smoothing things over with and paying off the families of some of these men.

You watched, smiling to yourself as they all fell, one by one, into groaning, bloodied heaps in the sand, until only one remained on his feet. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was the victor, as you had hoped he’d be, and as the crowd erupted into a roar of cheers, you stood.

Your parents watched you carefully.

“Are you certain?” Your mother asked.

“Do you have any objections?” You countered.

“…none whatsoever.”

You turned to your father. “And you, Father?”

He shrugged, leaning his chin on his hand. “I quite like the boy. He will make for an interesting match.”

“Then it is settled,” you sucked in a breath, steeling yourself before turning and walking to the stairs.

In the arena, Feyd-Rautha was drinking in the sounds of an entertained crowd. He could put on a show anywhere, it seemed, and if he had been at all concerned by leaving Giedi Prime to fight on your planet, they were long forgotten. His blood was still boiling, chest heaving as attendants began collecting his fallen foes, of whom more than a few sported serious, possibly life threatening injuries. And after he had struck each one down, he had glanced up to find you there, watching him.

The crowd hushed suddenly, and Feyd-Rautha saw that it was because you were approaching him, stepping over your battered suitors without so much as a glance down at them. Your eyes remained focused on him, never leaving, boring into his form as he straightened up and faced you.

“Feyd-Rautha,” you greeted him.

“Princess.”

“You fought well.”

“Thank you.”

You smirked at him. “You hope to gain my favor, do you not?”

“I had hoped for your token, yes,” he admitted, watching you with those dark, intelligent eyes.

“A token, or my hand?” You asked.

“I will take whatever you see fit to bless me with, princess.”

With a sly smile, you closed the gap between you, pressing a hand to his chest. He felt warmth there, and when you pulled away, the roar of the crowd returned and he looked down to see a crimson handprint on his skin.

“Congratulations, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you said, your voice cutting below the cheering of your people in the stands above. “We are now engaged.”

With that simple statement, you turned on your heel and left.

It was foolish to turn one’s back to a Harkonnen, especially Feyd-Rautha, but you both knew he would never do anything to you. Not now. Not when his eyes refused to leave your retreating form. Not when his heart thudded in his chest excitedly. Not when he knew he suddenly had a wife, one for whom he would kill anything and anyone.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha

[reasonsforhope]

"In response to last year’s record-breaking heat due to El Niño and impacts from climate change, Indigenous Zenù farmers in Colombia are trying to revive the cultivation of traditional climate-resilient seeds and agroecology systems.

One traditional farming system combines farming with fishing: locals fish during the rainy season when water levels are high, and farm during the dry season on the fertile soils left by the receding water.

Locals and ecologists say conflicts over land with surrounding plantation owners, cattle ranchers and mines are also worsening the impacts of the climate crisis.

To protect their land, the Zenù reserve, which is today surrounded by monoculture plantations, was in 2005 declared the first Colombian territory free from GMOs.

...

In the Zenù reserve, issues with the weather, climate or soil are spread by word of mouth between farmers, or on La Positiva 103.0, a community agroecology radio station. And what’s been on every farmer’s mind is last year’s record-breaking heat and droughts. Both of these were charged by the twin impacts of climate change and a newly developing El Niño, a naturally occurring warmer period that last occurred here in 2016, say climate scientists.

Experts from Colombia’s Institute of Hydrology, Meteorology and Environmental Studies say the impacts of El Niño will be felt in Colombia until April 2024, adding to farmers’ concerns. Other scientists forecast June to August may be even hotter than 2023, and the next five years could be the hottest on record. On Jan. 24, President Gustavo Petro said he will declare wildfires a natural disaster, following an increase in forest fires that scientists attribute to the effects of El Niño.

In the face of these changes, Zenù farmers are trying to revive traditional agricultural practices like ancestral seed conservation and a unique agroecology system.

Pictured: Remberto Gil’s house is surrounded by an agroforestry system where turkeys and other animals graze under fruit trees such as maracuyá (Passiflora edulis), papaya (Carica papaya) and banana (Musa acuminata colla). Medicinal herbs like toronjil (Melissa officinalis) and tres bolas (Leonotis nepetifolia), and bushes like ají (Capsicum baccatum), yam and frijol diablito (beans) are part of the undergrowth. Image by Monica Pelliccia for Mongabay.

“Climate change is scary due to the possibility of food scarcity,” says Rodrigo Hernandez, a local authority with the Santa Isabel community. “Our ancestral seeds offer a solution as more resistant to climate change.”

Based on their experience, farmers say their ancestral seed varieties are more resistant to high temperatures compared to the imported varieties and cultivars they currently use. These ancestral varieties have adapted to the region’s ecosystem and require less water, they tell Mongabay. According to a report by local organization Grupo Semillas and development foundation SWISSAID, indigenous corn varieties like blaquito are more resistant to the heat, cariaco tolerates drought easily, and negrito is very resistant to high temperatures.

The Zenù diet still incorporates the traditional diversity of seeds, plant varieties and animals they consume, though they too are threatened by climate change: from fish recipes made from bocachico (Prochilodus magdalenae), and reptiles like the babilla or spectacled caiman (Caiman crocodilus), to different corn varieties to prepare arepas (cornmeal cakes), liquor, cheeses and soups.

“The most important challenge we have now is to save ancient species and involve new generations in ancestral practice,” says Sonia Rocha Marquez, a professor of social sciences at Sinù University in the city of Montería.

...[Despite] land scarcity, Negrete says communities are developing important projects to protect their traditional food systems. Farmers and seed custodians, like Gil, are working with the Association of Organic Agriculture and Livestock Producers (ASPROAL) and their Communitarian Seed House (Casa Comunitaria de Semillas Criollas y Nativas)...

Pictured: Remberto Gil is a seed guardian and farmer who works at the Communitarian Seed House, where the ASPROL association stores 32 seeds of rare or almost extinct species. Image by Monica Pelliccia for Mongabay.

Located near Gil’s house, the seed bank hosts a rainbow of 12 corn varieties, from glistening black to blue to light pink to purple and even white. There are also jars of seeds for local varieties of beans, eggplants, pumpkins and aromatic herbs, some stored in refrigerators. All are ancient varieties shared between local families.

Outside the seed bank is a terrace where chickens and turkeys graze under an agroforestry system for farmers to emulate: local varieties of passion fruit, papaya and banana trees grow above bushes of ají peppers and beans. Traditional medicinal herbs like toronjil or lemon balm (Melissa officinalis) form part of the undergrowth.

Today, 25 families are involved in sharing, storing and commercializing the seeds of 32 rare or almost-extinct varieties.

“When I was a kid, my father brought me to the farm to participate in recovering the land,” says Nilvadys Arrieta, 56, a farmer member of ASPROAL. “Now, I still act with the same collective thinking that moves what we are doing.”

“Working together helps us to save, share more seeds, and sell at fair price [while] avoiding intermediaries and increasing families’ incomes,” Gil says. “Last year, we sold 8 million seeds to organic restaurants in Bogotà and Medellín.”

So far, the 80% of the farmers families living in the Zenù reserve participate in both the agroecology and seed revival projects, he adds."

-via Mongabay, February 6, 2024

#indigenous #ecology #agroforestry #agriculture #traditional food systems #traditional medicine #sustainable agriculture #zenu #indigenous peoples #farming #colombia #indigenous land #traditional knowledge #seeds #corn #sustainability #botany #plant biology #good news #hope #climate action #climate change #climate resilience #agroecology #food sovereignty

[the-dendrophile-bookdragon]

The Dragon and his Wolf

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!Stark!reader

Warnings: Daemon and his pure Valyrian blood obsession, he is a bit of an ass in the beginning, becomes obsessed after, sassy Stark reader, smut

Summary: Daemon always prided himself with the knowledge of having pure Valyrian blood. The wish of his grandmother changes his views drastically.

Daemon always prided himself with the knowledge of having pure Valyrian blood. He always proclaimed his wife would be the same. A woman of pure Valyrian descendants. Until his grandsire, King Jaehaerys betrothed him to a savage. A woman of the North. A wolf. A Stark. It was the wish of his late grandmother, Queen Alysenne, for one of her grandchildren to be bonded with her beloved North.

He was taken aback. Screaming to not marry her. Claiming he would rather cut off his cock then marry a savage wolf of the North. King Jaehaerys looked at his grandson with anger flowing through him. “You will as I say. Or you will be offered to Castle Black.” His voice boomed through the throne room. Begrudgingly he bowed to his grandsire and king’s demand. Daemon seethed quietly swearing every Valyrian curse word he knew under his breath.

Prince Baelon, Daemon’s father, took his son’s shoulder and escorted him out to the courtyard. He led him to the training grounds and threw him a wooden sword. “Come on. Let’s spar. I haven’t seen you hold a sword in a long time.” He grinned at his younger son.

Daemon scoffed at the training sword. He hadn’t held a training sword in his hands since he was nine years old. Now ten years later he had Dark Sister, his family’s ancestral sword. “These swords are shit, father.” Baelon laughed. “You can’t be so picky when you are on the battlefield surrounded by enemies and you lose your sword. You have to take the nearest sword,” He swung at his son with another training sword. Daemon blocked immediately. “Or you will be dead.”

Baelon smiled proudly as Daemon blocked his blow. “I am proud of you. I hope you know that.” Daemon grinned at his father’s soft words. “I know father.”

Meanwhile in Winterfell resided Daemon’s bride. A quiet, timid thing. Her father wanted to shield her from anything he could but an order from the King was an order. Starks were known to never break an oath.

So she was packed and shipped off to King’s Landing a fortnight after the letter of the king arrived. A carriage ride so long the young Lady Stark wished she could have flown with a dragon.

The first meeting with Prince Daemon was unpleasant, to say the least. He made no attempts to converse as both of them strolled through the gardens. He didn’t even so much as look at the young lady.

Hurt and anger bubbled up inside her chest. Emotions she rarely brought forward. The young Stark stopped in her tracks and turned to her betrothed. “Have I done anything to upset you, Prince Daemon? Given you a reason to be cross with me?” Anger was sparkling in her icy eyes as Daemon looked at her.

He raised an eyebrow but went on. Not answering his betrothed questions. She looked away from him. Her anger brewed quietly as she walked on. The awkward situation going on for hours.

His behaviour towards his betrothed went on even until their wedding. He ignored her, dismissed her, and never listened, to or answered her questions. The young lady felt smaller than she ever had. Which Daemon saw and liked. He wanted to break the savage, young wolf. He heard about the proud Starks of the North. He wanted to break her; show the Starks they gave him the weakest wolf of the pack.

But she knew better. And slowly she turned the tables on her betrothed. Every time Daemon called upon her, she would decline. Saying she wasn’t feeling well or she needed to prepare for the wedding. Sometimes even giving some lazy excuses like attending an afternoon tea with the ladies of the court. Most of the time she lied so she wouldn’t have to face her betrothed. It was a repeating occurrence she would sit in the library in an armchair in a far corner of the impressive room. What she didn’t know was this corner was Daemon’s.

Daemon became frustrated shortly after the third rejection. He couldn’t play with her feelings today. Which frustrated him to no end. Not even the whore in front of him gave him the kick he needed. His mind drifted off to her. He imagined the young Stark being held down by the neck while he drove inside of her.

The woman’s moans became hers. The woman’s begging became hers. Her skin and hair turned into his betrothed’s. Daemon reached his peak faster than ever before. He pulled out, releasing his seed on the woman’s back. As he looked at the woman, he imagined how she would look with his seed on her back. Or how the sight of his spend leaking out of her cunny would look like. He wondered how fertile northern women were to other Westerosi women.

His mind whirled around until it came to a shrieking halt. The she-wolf had entered his mind and made residence there. Tormenting him every waking hour. She began to even plague his dreams. Sometimes he would only dream about her in different scenarios. Like when she smiled softly, a soft blush on your cheeks as she tried to converse with him.

And some nights, he dreamed about their impending wedding night. How she looked up at him, pupils blown mouth open as she softly moaned his name. How she would gasp when he drove into her. How she would cling to him for support. How her back would arch or how she would look on top of him. Riding him.

He woke up after those dreams fairly hard and aching. Yearning to be touched, but not by anyone except his she-wolf.

Lady Stark sat in the library reading when she felt a presence standing in the room. She looked up and saw a bewildered Daemon with a book nearly falling out of his hand. “Something wrong, Prince Daemon?” She softly whispered. Daemon couldn’t answer her right away. He looked at the book and read the title. History of old Valyria. He didn’t know his future lady wife had an interest in history. But then he remembered he didn’t know her at all.

“A history book. Are you interested in a time before us?” He sounded meek which made the corners of her lips quirk. But the young lady didn’t want to be as mean as him. So she indulged in the conversation. “Yes, very much. I find it fascinating to learn from what our ancestors did so we would end up here where we are. Maybe even learn from their mistakes.”

Daemon’s eyes widen. She was young, one and six to be precise. But wiser than some Septons would ever be. More mature than him with his ten and eight. His father often said he was still a boy learning. And his father was right, he was still a boy learning. Learning about his future spouse.

He now saw how immature and juvenile his actions were until now. Drinking until the early morning and blacking out. Indulging in carnal acts with prostitutes. He was once proud of being called Prince of Flea Bottom, the Rouge Prince. But now he wasn’t so sure anymore. He wanted her to be proud of him. He needs the approval of her. In the last few weeks, he became obsessed with his Lady Stark.

“May I sit with you? Mayhaps show you more books on the subject of old Valyria?” She smiled softly making his heart flutter. Seeing he would change. Princess Aemma was right. Daemon could change when a mirror was held in front of him.

The wedding was granted. Nearly every house in Westeros attended. But Daemon ignored them all. He had only eyes for her. His bride, his wolf. He never told her about his nickname for her. Only said it in his head or the safety of his room as he pleasured himself to the image of his wolf.

He was embarrassed by how many times he had to leave their meetings to relieve himself and his aching cock. Only a soft touch from his bride could set him ablaze with desire. He felt slightly embarrassed. Something he wouldn’t like to admit, especially not to the object of his desires and fantasies.

The ceremony was too long for Daemon’s taste. He could have gone only with the cloaking ceremony and the exchange of vows and be done with it but this wedding was also for show. His betrothed looked so otherworldly as she stood in front of him. He could only gaze into her beautiful eyes. He wished he could drown in them.

Before the High Septon was finished declaring them man and wife in front of the attending people and the gods, Daemon already sealed their lips together. It seemed like an innocent kiss, but Daemon’s hunger was laced into it. She could feel it.

At the feast she danced, laughed, drank, and ate with her new husband. They had grown closer over the last weeks. Forming a bond similar to a friendship but not quite. Sharing their love for history and myths as they sat in the library for hours.

Daemon’s eyes never left his wife’s form. He was engrossed by her completely. He never left her side and always had a hand on her body. She liked the attention from him. For once she knew he appreciated her.

The feast was slowly winding to an end. But for Daemon the night only began. He led her to their marital chambers with a firm hand, eager to get his wife alone. To see her out of her dress. Claim her body, claim her as his.

As the door closed, Daemon stood behind her, pulling her to his front. “I have waited for so long to get you alone.” Shivers ran down the young woman’s spine as his smooth voice flew in her ear. Daemon’s hands ran up from her stomach, over her rips and under her boobs.

Her breath hitched. “So responsive, zoklītsos.” Little wolf. His hand wandered further up. He cupped Her breasts softly, squeezing them a bit. She let out a soft moan. Daemon smirked. “Tell me, zoklītsos, are you ready to play with fire?” Her breath came out in shallow breaths. A whine escaped her lips.

His free hand reached for his dagger on his side. He unsheathed it, cutting open the laces of her dress in one swift motion. She gasped loudly as the dress loosened on her body and fell to the floor in a heap. Daemon’s grin widened.

Her arms tried to cover her chest as the fabrics on her body were ripped from her. But Daemon already covered them with his warm, large hands. “Don’t you dare cover yourself?” He whispered hotly into her ear. Biting the shell of her ear. “I want to see it in all its glory.” He mouthed at her neck, biting down harshly. Leaving his mark on her skin.

A small whimper escaped Her lips. Shivers ran up and down her spine. “Iksan vaoreznuni, valzȳrys.” I am sorry, husband. She whispered into his neck. Her lips ghosted over his jaw as she tried to compose herself. “Valyrīha? ao ȳdra daor jorrāelagon naejot seduce nyke dombo.” Valyrian? You don't need to seduce me anymore. He huskily whispered against her temple.

One hand slipped from her breast and trailed down between her legs. He ghosted his fingers over the patch of hair before he softly cupped her mount. “I have imagined this, she-wolf. How you looked. How you sound. All those little whimpers.” He mouthed at her jaw. “But most of the time I imagined your little cunny. All wet and tripping for me. Ready for me to plough you.”

A shuddering breath escaped her lips. “I hope I won’t disappoint you.” Daemon chuckled. “You will not. You will never disappoint, ābrazȳrys.” Wife.

Main Masterlist

Can't get enough? Tell me about it...

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon prince #prince daemon targaryen

[crimsonbubble]

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, oral, overstimulation, sex toys, face sitting, mentions of squirting, inappropriate use of sento/powers, temperature play *not proofread, just pure horny

[the horny got to me,, can you also tell who my favs are🛐🛐🛐]

kinktober masterlist

MINORS DNI!!

Johnny is a clit kisser. A pussy eating menace. You will not be able to push him away from you. He’ll happily drown himself in you if you let him. An avid enjoyer of face sitting. He has a nice nose, so you can sit on it if you want to. His face and lap are your personal thrones, sit where you want. He'd have a full-blown make-out session with your pussy, it's insane. But seriously he lives to eat you out. Always makes you cum at least twice with his mouth and fingers. Also loves to press a bullet vibrator to your clit while he tongue fucks you. And everyone's a squirter if you try hard enough.

Kenshi seems like one to be impartial to giving or receiving oral. If you offer him head, he'll happily let you blow him. If you want head, he'll kneel before you. Anyway, this is about you. I'd say he wants eye contact but given his current situation, I'll refrain from it. Has used Sento's ancestral guidance to aid him tho. As long as he can feel your eyes on him, then he'll give you the most toe-curling head. Once fucked you with the handle of Sento while his mouth worked on your clit. He doesn't want to admit how much he liked to use the ancestral sword on you.

Bi-Han makes great use of his powers. Pressing a cold tongue against your clit, sucking the nub into his mouth. Cold hands are pinning your hips down to the bed when you attempt to squirm away from him. Grinding the pad of his thumb into your clit while he fucks you open on his tongue. Can't help but laugh as you struggle against him.

Kuai Liang struggles to maintain his composure as he lapped at your slit. His restraint is wavering as you writhe and twitch under his ministrations. His body is radiating more heat than needed, leaving you sweaty and out of breath. His hands feel like they're going to burn you, the pain coming off in waves. Kuai would press a hand flat against your stomach, keeping your hips on the bed while his other hand held your thigh up. He'll leave nail marks on your skin before he dares to use his powers on you but sometimes he loses himself in you a little too quickly.

Tomas wants you to sit on his face more than anything. Don’t worry about if he can breathe, just sit on his face. He gets really handsy. Like he’s moving from your thighs to your hips, to your waist, to your ass and up to your chest. Loves to grab any and every part of you because he loves how you shudder and squirm under his touch.

Syzoth has an interesting tongue. Thin and forked, perfect to wrap around your sweet clit and flick over the sensitive bud as he pulls orgasms out of you. If you really want it, let him fuck you with his tongue. He'll hit every sweet spot that he can while grinding his nose into your clit. Savors the taste of you on his tongue for as long as you'll let him. He'll lick, suck and bite your thighs as he does so.

Raiden is pretty straightforward but that doesn’t mean that he doesn't like to spark things up a little. Toys with your clit using his thumb and sends you little shocks here and there. While Johnny is a teasing and arrogant clit kisser, Raiden is a kinder and more loving clit kisser. Holds you down by your hips or by pressing his hands flat against your stomach. Enjoys eye contact so he can see how your face contorts in pleasure.

Lui Kang is much stronger than you, so it’s easy for him to take over once you start getting tired. So when the speed of your grinds against his tongue slows down, he immediately takes hold of your hips and moves you himself. He devotes all his time to focusing on your pleasure, he wants to see you lose yourself before he even considers giving himself some relief.

#bubbly writes <3 #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk smut #johnny cage smut #kenshi takahashi smut #lui kang smut #mk raiden smut #mk reptile smut #bi han smut #tomas vrbada smut #kuai liang smut #johhny cage x reader #kenshi takahashi x reader #lui kang x reader #bi han x reader #kuai liang x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #reptile x reader #sub zero smut #scorpion smut #scorpion x reader #sub zero x reader #mk x reader