#lady cybele

[postpunkindustrial]

#lady cybele #halloween #occult #new age #spoken word

[saschirmations]

life is short; eat your boyfriend

#affirmations #cultist simulator #cult sim #cultsim #cs #book of hours #grail #the red grail #moth #st tryphon #ezeem the second thirstly #ezeem #marinette #our lady of wires #that old yearning #the two crowns #cannibalism tag for tumblr as we know and love her #cybele #shitpost #saschirmations

[clockworkreapers]

the green bean 

#she is a bean #a sweet lil lady #fantroll #portrait #fantrolls #homestuck #hiveswap #cybele abadon #art #artwork #Illustration

[greenwitchcrafts]

March 2024 witch guide

Full moon: March 25th

New moon: March 10th

Sabbats: Ostara-March 19th

March Worm Moon

Known as: Crow Moon, Eagle Moon, Goose Moon, Hrethmonath, Lenting moon, Lentzinmanoth, Moon of Snowblind, Moon of Winds, Plow Moon, Sap Moon, Seed Moon, Sore Eyes Moon, Storm Moon, Sugar Moon & Wind Strong Moon

Element: Water

Zodiac: Pisces & Aries

Nature spirits: Air & water spirits & Mer-people

Deities: Artemis, Astarte, Athena, Cybele, Isis, Luna & Minerva

Animals: Boar, cougar & hedgehog

Birds: Sea crow & sea eagle

Trees: Alder, dogwood & honeysuckle

Herbs: Apple blossom, broom, high John root, Irish moss, pennyroyal, wood betony & yellow dock

Flowers: Daffodil, jonquil & violet

Scents: Apple blossom & honeysuckle

Stones: Aquamarine, bloodstone, jasper, opal &topaz

Colors: Pale-green, red, violet, yellow & white

Energy:  Balance, beginnings, dream work, energy breaking into the open, exploring, fertility, inner development, karma, prosperity, spirituality, success & truth seeking

For many years, it was thought that the name "Worm Moon" referred to the earthworms that appear as the soil warms in spring. This invites robins and other birds to feed—a true sign of spring.

However, more research revealed another explanation. In the 1760s, Captain Jonathan Carver visited the Naudowessie (Dakota) and other Native American tribes and wrote that the name Worm Moon refers to a different sort of “worm”—beetle larvae—which begin to emerge from the thawing bark of trees and other winter hideouts at this time.

March’s full Moon often plays a role in religion, specifically in Christianity, this Moon is known as the Lenten Moon if it is the last full Moon of the winter season (i.e., if it occurs before the spring equinox) or as the Paschal Full Moon if it is the first full Moon of spring (i.e., if it occurs after the spring equinox).

Ostara

Known as: Alban Eiler, Lady Day & Spring/Vernal equinox

Season: Spring

Symbols: 8-spoked wheel, butterflies, chicks, decorated baskets, eggs, feathers, jellybeans, lambs, rabbits, seeds, shamrocks, spring flowers & sunwheels

Colors: Green, indigo, light blue, pastels, pink, red & yellow

Oils/Incense: African violet, florals, ginger, jasmine, lotus, magnolia, rose, sage & strawberry

Animals: Cormorant, hare, hawk, rabbit, sheep, sparrow & swallow

Mythical: Dragon & Unicorn

Stones: Amethyst, aquamarine, bloodstone, moonstone, red jasper & rose quartz

Food: Dairy foods, eggs(hard boiled), fruits, honey, honey cakes, leafy greens, vegetables, pine nuts, pumpkin, sunflower seeds, sprouts & waffles

Herbs/Plants: Acorn, cinquefoil, dogwood, ginger, Irish moss, olive, strawberry & woodruff

Flowers: Celandine, crocus, daffodil, dandelion, Easter lily,  jasmine gorse, honeysuckle, hyssop, iris, jonquil, linden, narcissus, peony, snowdrop, tansy & violet

Goddesses: Aphrodite, Ariadne, Artemis, Athena, Coatlicue, Cybele,Demeter, Diana, Eos, Eostre, Flora, Gaia, Hera, Idunn, Iris, Ishtar, Juno, Minerva, Persephone, Venus & Vesta

Gods: Adonis, Attis, Celi, Cernunnos, Coel, Dagda, Dalon ap Landu, Dumuzi, Green Man, Lord of the Greenwood, Mithras, Odin, Osiris, Ovis & Pan

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Agriculture, balance, beauty, fertility, growth, life, love & rebirth/renewal

Spellwork: Air magick, fertility, new beginnings & water magick

Activities:

• Go on a hike/walk & look for signs of spring

• Add Ostara symbols to decorate your altar space

• Plant vegetable &/or flower seedlings

• Decorate eggs with bright colors

• Set your intentions for the weeks/months ahead

• Start a new class or hobby

• Create eggshell candles

• Make plans & new routines for the future

• Participate in rituals & ceremonies that connect you with energy & the life force of nature

• Have a feast with your friends &/family with sprouts & leafy greens

• Bake hot cross buns or lavender/lemon flavored treats

• Clean & de-clutter your home

• Try a re-birthing/ renewing ritual

• Bring fresh flowers or plants into into the home

• Host a spring & floral themed tea party

• Make egg based food dishes & desserts

This holiday marks the Spring Equinox, which happens before March 19-22. It is the second of three spring celebrations (the midpoint between Imbolc and Beltane)  during which light & darkness are again in balance, with light on the rise. It is a time of new beginnings & of life emerging further from the grips of winter.

There is much debate regarding the origins of Ostara due to the lack of primary sources about this sabbat. One theory is the name of Ostara came from the Anglo-Saxon goddess Eostre. Another theory is that Eostre is more of a localized goddess in Kent County, England. Despite the questions of her origins, Eostre is associated with modern-day Pagan traditions of Ostara.

There is no evidence that the ancient Greeks or Romans celebrated Ostara, although they did celebrate their own spring festivals, such as the Roman festival of Floralia & the Greek festival of Anthesteria. It was a time to honor the returning sun, fertility & rebirth.

Related festivals:

• Nowruz- March 19th

Nowruz marks the first day of spring & renewal of nature. It is celebrated on the day of the astronomical vernal equinox. It is also celebrated as the beginning of the new year by people all around the world for over 3,000 years in the Balkans, the Black Sea Basin, the Caucasus, Central Asia, the Middle East & other regions.

It promotes values of peace & solidarity between generations & within families as well as reconciliation & neighbourliness. Nowruz plays a significant role in strengthening the ties among peoples based on mutual respect & the ideals of peace and good neighbourliness. 

Traditional customs of Nowruz include fire & water, ritual dances, gift exchanges, reciting poetry, symbolic objects & more; these customs differ between the diverse peoples & countries that celebrate the festival.

• Holi- March 25th

Holi is a popular & significant Hindu festival celebrated as the The festival of colors, Love &Spring. It commemorates eternal and divine love of the deities Radha & Krishna. Additionally, the day signifies the triumph of good over evil, as it celebratess the victory of Vishnu as Narasimha over Hiranyakashipu. Holi originated & is predominantly celebrated in the Indian subcontinent, but has also spread to other regions of Asia & parts of the Western world through the Indian diaspora.

Holi also celebrates the arrival of Spring in India, the end of winter & the blossoming of love. It is also an invocation for a good spring harvest season. It lasts for a night & a day, starting on the evening of the Purnima (full moon day) falling on the Hindu calendar month of Phalguna, which falls around the middle of March in the Gregorian calendar.

• Easter- March 31st

also called Pascha or Resurrection Sunday is a Christian festival & cultural holiday commemorating the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, described in the New Testament as having occurred on the third day of his burial following his crucifixion by the Romans at Calvary c. 30 AD. It is the culmination of the Passion of Jesus Christ, preceded by Lent (or Great Lent), a 40-day period of fasting, prayer, & penance.

Easter traditions vary across the Christian world & include sunrise services or late-night vigils, exclamations & exchanges of Paschal greetings, flowering the cross & the decoration and the communal breaking of Easter eggs (a symbol of the empty tomb) among many others. The Easter lily is a symbol of the resurrection in Western Christianity traditionally decorates the chancel area of churches on this day & for the rest of Eastertide. Additional customs that have become associated with Easter & are observed by both Christians & some non-Christians include Easter parades, communal dancing, the Easter Bunny & egg hunting.

Other Celebrations:

• Festival of Luna- March 31st

Is a feast day honoring the Goddess Luna who is seen as the divine embodiment of the Moon.

The Temple of Luna was a temple on the Aventine Hill in Rome, dedicated to Luna, the moon goddess. Its dedication was celebrated on March 31st, thus the celebration.

According to Tacitus, it was built by king Servius Tullius. However, the first confirmed reference to a temple to Luna dates to 182 BC & refers to one of its doors being knocked off its posts by a miraculous blast of air & shot into the back of the Temple of Ceres. That account probably places the temple at the north end of the hill, just above porta Trigemina. The temple was struck by lightning around the time of the death of Cinna, as was the temple of Ceres. After the destruction of Corinth, Lucius Mummius Achaicus dedicated some of his spoils from the city to this temple. It was destroyed in the Great Fire of Rome in 64 AD & not rebuilt.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

#correspondences #sabbat #wheel of the year #ostara #Worm Moon #witch community #witchblr #wiccablr #paganblr #witchcraft #witches of tumblr #tumblr witch community #tumblr witches #full moon #witch guide #witch tips #traditional witchcraft #spellbook #grimoire #book of shadows #beginner witch #baby witch #full moon magick #witchcore #GreenWitchcrafts #pagan #wicca #witch #witchy tumblr #spells

[word-wytch]

Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 11

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 11/? 5.2k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ Parent teacher conferences and long forgotten stories uncover worlds beneath.

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, true love, smut (18+ mdni), internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

Chapter warnings: stories within stories, high fantasy, discussion of childhood hardship, implied spousal abuse, parent death mention, drug use mention, heavy angst

Friday, November 15th 1985

Eddie was lost in another world.

He was floating actually. High above the clouds, not that he could see them. He wished he could but the empty crate he had stolen away in was the only thing shielding him from the suspicious eyes of the merchants aboard the zeppelin. His heart pounded as the wind carried him further than he’d ever been from the only place he’d ever known — the isolated Cloud Kingdom of Myrne. High atop a mountain range. A city of gold, gleaming like a beacon in the sun.

His back ached against the stiff wood rocking him like a cradle. He was lucky to be small enough to fit. Lucky that he had just enough space to shed his silk coat to use as padding. If he laid just right he could even stretch his legs toward the ceiling to relieve the cramps that threatened his claves. 

He would have to ration the dried boar’s meat and meager flask of water that he’d stashed away in his knapsack. There wasn’t space for very much, and he needed the precious real estate for not only clothing, but the jars of herbs and poultices to stave off the illnesses he was so susceptible to. 

That was why he — or, Lady Cybelle rather, ended up here in the first place. See, there was something she needed from the world beneath. Desperately. Her brother did anyway. A rare, translucent plant called a ghostfern found only in the depths of certain caves. It was a known cure for his equally rare illness, or at least that’s what she read during her herbalism studies. Much like Eddie, all she knew of the world beneath was what she read about.

Cybelle begged the high council to send for it. To send scouts to collect it. But they refused, unwilling to risk the safety of the collective for the life of just one. There was always a risk involved in the leaving and returning of Myrnish people. A risk to contract and spread more illness that threatened the lives of them all.

Cybelle was crafty though, and equally determined. She’d fashioned a mask out of moth silk with a pocket for illness-staving herbs. She would need it when the zeppelin finally landed in Torgaard. When she figured her way out of this crate without being spotted. When she set foot, for the first time, on the land she only caught a glimpse of when the clouds beneath her parted.

Eddie had grown rather fond of Cybelle. He’d been spending every evening with her since Wednesday. Ever since you handed him your world in a black three ring binder — Worlds Beneath.

It was intimate, reading your work. As if he could read between the lines and observe the way your mind worked. The way your phrasing flowed. Your choice of words. As if part of you was there within the pages. The hidden part of you.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but he was as captivated as he was impressed. He supposed after watching you analyze literature on a daily basis that it would be more… literary. More serious. Less fantastical. But this was beyond anything he could have anticipated.

There was a secret world in you. He would catch glimpses of it sometimes when you laughed. It would peek around the mask you wore like a curious child when he talked about elves and magic. He could hear its quiet voice becoming braver. 

He was there now, inside of it. Crammed inside a crate aboard a zeppelin. You had a way of doing that, he noticed. Taking him there. Making him feel the wooden crate against his spine. The stuffy air in the close darkness around him. The fear twinged with excitement. It was a sort of magic you possessed. 

He could feel it outside the pages too. The gentle burning in your fingertips, even when you pulled away. Especially when you pulled away. The quiet wanting of it all.   

He wondered how often you went there, to the secret world in you. Did you drift there as you glided down the hallway? Would you hide there when the real world was too much?

He wondered how many people saw it. How many others you let in. 

He wondered if he stayed there long enough, set up camp and looked around, if he would find himself there too. 

______

You fixed your hair as you checked your reflection in the faculty bathroom mirror. The old light bathed everything in a yellow wash. It made your skin look as tired as you felt. You picked lint off the black blazer you pulled from the back of your closet this morning. The one with the shoulder pads. Professional, right? It made you look bigger than you felt. Perhaps parents would take you seriously if you looked like you belonged behind the desk.

There were some perks to in-service days. No classroom to manage. You got to come in at noon instead of 7:30 am. Got to be the one listening to a lecture instead of giving one. The only downside was having to stay until 7:30 pm. That and trying your best not to cry when a parent inevitably got defensive. You always looked for something nice to say about all of your students. It softened the less savory news, if there was any. More often than not it was just making small talk, telling parents what a pleasure their child was to have in class. 

The heels of your shoes clicked down the empty hallway, past the trophy cases filled with plaques of names you still recognized. You caught the ghost of your reflection in the glass, the angular silhouette of the costume that you wore. You noticed your tight pencil skirt riding up in the back and you corrected it with a downward tug, keeping on the straight and narrow path toward the teachers lounge. 

The wood paneled walls welcomed you in, and you padded across the old carpet toward the open boxes of pizza laid out on one of the three round tables. You grabbed a paper plate and pulled a few slices of pepperoni from the large, square cut sheet, the cheese already hard from sitting out. You rarely complained, and this time was no exception. Your stomach was threatening to eat itself and lukewarm pizza more than fit the bill.

You took a bite to satiate your blood sugar and made your way to the coffee station for the third time that day. Grabbing a mug from the stack, your fingers grazed the faded lettering that vaguely resembled the Chief’s Auto Repairs logo. You glanced at the clock as you filled it with your liquid vice. It was 2:37, which meant you had approximately twenty-three minutes before you had to be posted at your station. Your stomach churned, and not from the pizza. 

 “Boo,” came a gentle whisper from behind you.

Your hand jerked, sloshing coffee all over the wood veneer.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” Diane apologized, making haste to grab a generous handful of square napkins from beside the sugar. Her bright red nail polish glinted under the fluorescents as she blotted up the mess.

You put a hand to your chest. “No, no it’s ok,” you sighed, grabbing a napkin to wipe the bottom of your mug. “It’s good to see you, honestly. I didn’t think I would.”

“Yeah, I still have quite a few notes to catch up on. Just because I’m not a teacher doesn’t mean I’m off the hook,” she said with a wink. “What was the seminar about this time?” She tossed the napkins into the trash at the end of the table.

“Oh, just the usual stuff. Classroom management, how to have better boundaries with students, you know, hah.” Knots twisted in your stomach as you leaned against the counter, grabbing a milk carton and tipping it over your mug. 

Diane hummed, eyes fixed on your generous pour threatening to overflow the coffee from the rim. “Sounds riveting.”

“Oh yes, enthralling,” you said, folding the mushy lip of the carton back in on itself, something to do with your hands to keep them from shaking. The coffee probably wasn’t going to help.

Diane’s eyes narrowed, “Are you… ok?”

“Me? Oh, yeah. I’m fine. I’m just uh,” you tapped your finger on the edge of your mug. “Parent teacher conference day nerves, you know.” 

“Ugh, I can only imagine. I hope everyone is nice to you today. I have no idea why they wouldn’t be.” 

You offered a shaky chuckle. “Yeah, me neither. Just getting in my own head I guess.” 

“Love the blazer, by the way. Super sharp.”

“Oh, thanks. Figured I’d dress the part.” Grabbing your plate of pizza in one hand and very full mug in the other, you took a sip off the top, marking the rim with a delicate red blot. You pulled out one of the old chairs and found your place in it, which your feet were thankful for.

Diane leaned against the table, “So, Darren called last night.”

“Oh, you’re still talking to him?” The sauce squeezed out from the corners of your bite as you sunk your teeth into the hard cheese and gummy crust.

“Yeah, a bit. Off and on. He’s a nice guy. Does stuff for his sister and her kids lot, which I feel like is a good sign, right?”

Your brows raised a little. “Yeah, totally a good sign,” you said through a mouthful. 

“He invited me to the Colts game this weekend. I think I’m gonna go.”

You blotted the sauce from your lips. “Really? I thought you said he wasn’t your type.”

“I mean, what is a type anyway? If I keep waiting around for my type I might be waiting forever. I’ve gotta just start putting myself out there, you know? Give guys the benefit of the doubt for once. You never know until you try,” Diane offered as she opened up the large box of sheet pizza and ripped off two slices onto her plate.

You huffed through your nose, “Sometimes you know.”

“I mean, yeah. Sometimes, but with this one, I dunno. I mean we do have some things in common. We both like Saturday Night Live and spending time outside. He’s decently attractive, or he was at Mojo’s anyway,” she chuckled. “We’ll see what he’s like off the phone. At the very least it’s something to do, right?” 

You swallowed your bite. “Right. I mean, hey, free entertainment I guess.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Diane as she settled into the seat beside you. 

______

The phone was ringing. Shrill and deeply annoying as it echoed through the trailer. Eddie sighed and pulled himself away from your world in his lap, his expression blank and perturbed. He thought for a moment about answering it. About putting an end to the intrusive noise, but that would mean getting up from the toasty blanket cocoon he’d wrapped his legs in, like a warm pretzel. November’s creeping chill was doing nothing to help his motivation to leave it.

So he let it ring. And ring. Until finally the answering machine picked up, coloring the voice that came through in static and tin.

“Hey man, it’s Gareth. Um… I’m kinda freaking out about this date tomorrow. I know you’re probably just gonna tell me to stop being a pussy, but uh… yeah. Call me back.”

Eddie smirked and rolled his eyes. His friend knew him so well. There would be plenty of time to tell Gareth exactly what he needed to hear. That he was, in fact, being a total pussy. Later though. Right now he was busy. 

He was a man named Lazarus now. The Amazing Lazarus, formally. And he had a full time job shuffling cards and making purses disappear. 

The small crowd that gathered around him didn’t know that though. Not in this city anyway. He was certain he hadn’t seen any… artistic interpretations of his face plastered on any of the buildings in Torgaard. Yet.

If he could be quick enough with his hands they wouldn’t even notice what was missing until they were blocks away, and by then he would have long since packed up his banner and left. 

“Is this your card?” he flourished to the unfortunate man who had stepped forward from the crescent crowd.

The man squinted. “No I don’t think it is.”

“Ah,” he answered curtly. “Oh, what’s this?” He feigned surprised, reaching forward to dip his fingers into the man’s pocket. He pulled back with another flourish. “Is this your card?”

“Why it is!”

Cheers and claps erupted from the crowd. Lazarus took a bow. “Thank you, thank you.” He took off his weathered top hat and passed it around to collect any loose change that the crowd was eager to get rid of.

The people dispersed as quickly as they came, leaving him alone. He reached into the hidden pocket beneath his leather glove and extracted a small pouch. And now, for the even bigger reveal. 

He dipped his finger into the opening and loosened the draw strings to reveal a few spare coins and…

Another pocket watch. 

It was almost like everyone carried them around in their pockets. Dull and predictable, and practically worthless to him. He sighed, wondering how long it would be before he actually made his trade worth his time today.

That’s when he spotted her — the strangest person he’d seen all day. Maybe all year. Maybe in his entire life, and he’d seen a lot of people.

The first thing he noticed was her shock of white hair, cropped in a bob with bangs like a toddler. She toddled like one too. Petite and girlish. Flat boots with curled toes flapping like duck feet against the dirty cobblestone. Deeply unstable. Crinkled gold coat gleaming like a beacon in the sun. 

But the real clincher was the mask she wore. A big crescent moon that swept across her round face. Strange and alien. Stark against deep copper skin. Eyes like saucers. 

The perfect target. 

He strolled up to her, and her enormous eyes drank him in like they were parched.

“Hey, you look like the type of person who might appreciate a magic trick.”

She looked up at him, chin lowering beneath her mask. “A… a magic trick?” 

He couldn’t place the accent.

“Oh yes,” he said, shuffling his cards in an arch from one hand to the other. “Have you ever seen a magic trick before?”

It was a silly question to be asking someone who looked like they’d never seen a man before.

“Oh, um. I do not think so,” she said, her flat silk boots stumbling across the cobblestone to regain her footing. “Sorry I am a little, uh… it is like the air here is just so… different.”

Lazarus stopped shuffling. “Different? Different how? Different from where?”

She looked around, out past the zeppelin docks toward the horizon. She pointed toward the sky. “Myrne.”

“Really,” he half whispered. In all his travels he had never seen a Myrnish person before. He had only ever heard about them from others and what little they knew secondhand of their isolated culture. 

“The air…it is just… thicker,” she said between breaths. “Sorry. I am quite dizzy.”

He took a step closer. Close enough to assess that there were no pockets to be found on her strange garments, but there was something else that excited him much more. An obelisk of glimmering pale gold that dangled from her neck. Worth a small fortune, at least. 

The gold found in the mines of Mount Myrne was different from any other precious metal in the world. It was found only there, and unlike common gold, was very hard. It sparkled rather than shined, and most importantly possessed an energy that could be harnessed. Like magic.

The gnomes would use it to power their inventions. It didn’t take much of it to make a moderate machine come alive. A piece this size could surely afford him a permanent home, and then some. No more hiding his caravan outside cities. No more paying for stables or worrying about wolves making a meal of his horse.

He could picture it now. A little cottage in Shantiglade by the sea. He would wake up to a full body stretch in a real bed. He would fix himself a goose egg omelet over a real stove with peppers from his garden. He would open his windows and taste the fresh brine in the air. 

He would stroll leisurely to the beach where no one knew his face. Where the tide would kiss his ankles and wash away his footprints. Where his past couldn’t follow him.

The pendant winked in the sunlight. She was so small. He could easily break the chain from around her neck with a single tug and run.

“So, what brings you all the way down here?” He drew closer, unable to tear his eyes from the shimmering treasure.

She stepped back in time with his advance, like a dance, adjusting the mask on her face with hesitant eyes.

“I am looking for ghostfern.”

“You’ve come a long way for a plant, my dear.” Another step forward.

Another step back. “My brother needs it. He will die without it.” 

It was a look he’d seen before. Desperation twinged with hope. He’d seen it in his own reflection more times than he cared to admit. He saw it in his mother too, though the hope faded almost as quickly as she did when the cost of the cure was too great.

She lowered her gaze. “Ghostfern is very rare. None of our merchants carry it, though I hear it can be found in caves outside of Rower’s End, but I do not know how to get there.”

Rare, expensive — what difference did it make when it was out of reach? 

“That’s a long ways off,” he offered solemnly. It was deep into the boglands and nary a merchant dared to venture along the thin, winding path to Rower’s End. The rumors of sinister creatures and  bog crone hexes were enough to keep them away.

The strange young woman seemed unfazed by this. “Have you been there before?”

Lazarus huffed. “No, I but I do know how to get there.” The gold obelisk winked at him again and he stilled his itching hands. “How about I uh… make you a deal?”

“A deal?”

“Yes, a deal. I take you to Rower’s End in exchange for that pendant you’re wearing.”

She sized him up, the gears turning behind her enormous, chestnut spheres. “You will take me back then too? To Torgaard?”

Lazarus nodded firmly, “Of course.”

Her eyes crinkled, sparkled like the obelisk she wore. “Then it is a deal.”

“Excellent,” smirked Lazarus. “Ah, what is your name, by the way?”

“Cybelle.” Certainly one he hadn’t heard before.

“Lazarus, pleasure to be doing business with you.” He extended his hand.

Cybelle cocked her head, studying his open palm hovering in the space between them like a foreign object. 

“Uh, you — you shake it. See? Like this.” He demonstrated awkwardly with his other hand, then presented her with the opportunity again. “Now you try.” 

Cybelle stared at his hand. Her fingers twitched, gaze darting from his palm to his eyes. “Ah… sorry.” She put her hands up sheepishly, waving his away. “Trying not to get sick.”

Lazarus retracted his hand and gave a single, solemn nod. “As you wish.”

______

Your eyes tracked down your list of parent names, then up at the clock. It was 6:45 on the dot. The last name on your list was scheduled at 6:40. 

There was a part of you that hoped he wouldn’t show at all. The churning in your stomach was kicking up with each minute that ticked by, anxious eyes flitting from the paper, to the door, to the clock.

Until suddenly a figure appeared in the doorway. He was tall, weathered, with a short grey beard. Hair even shorter, stark against the ruddy skin that it encircled atop his head. He wore a denim jacket with a corduroy collar and olive green work slacks stained with patches of grease.

He peered around your classroom tentatively, as if looking for a sign that he found the right one. “Hi, Wayne Munson." It sounded like more of a question.

You stood up from behind your desk with a jolt. “Oh, hi! You must be Eddie’s dad.” Knots twisted in your stomach. You extended your hand to him and put on the warmest, brightest mask you could muster. 

“Uncle, actually.” His hand was rough and thickly calloused, fingers stained from nicotine. You could smell the stale scent of his vice on him, a family habit, evidently. “Sorry ’m a little late. Still a bit early for me, I work the graveyard at the plant.”

Uncle. The questions bubbled in your gut but there was no place to air them in the split second between you. “Oh that’s no problem, you’re last on my list today anyway. Here, have a seat.” You gestured to the chair opposite yours at your desk. 

Your desk. The same desk his nephew held your hand under. Your stomach churned again.

As Wayne eased himself into the small, wooden chair, you allowed your timid eyes enough agency to take stock. There was a weight to him, not in his body but in his aura. A heaviness that you could feel. Tired stories you strained to read between the lines on his face, stained into the cracks of his fingers. You would search for the resemblance to the one you saw most often in that chair. You would find very little save for their strong oval faces and the warmth that surprised you in his ice blue eyes.

Wayne sighed, deep and heavy as he creaked back into the chair. “Alright, how’s Ed doing in class?” he asked flatly.

There was something else in his eyes, leaden like defeat. Like bracing steel. Like tired expectation. 

He might as well have said, “Let’s get this over with.” It was the same tune. A tune he memorized. Sung a thousand times. A tune his voice was tired of.

“Eddie is…” a soft smile crept onto your face and you suddenly became captivated with the pen on your desk. You felt him lean forward, hinging on the words you left hanging in the air.

And so you told him the truth.

“…one of the most creative and tenacious people I know.”

There was a breath that he’d been holding in, a sigh that permeated the stunned stillness between you. 

“I know it isn’t easy for him to be here. I know he’d rather be doing a million other things but he’s still here, you know? Despite being denied graduation twice.”

He knew. You could see it as clearly as the lines that softened on his forehead.

“I mean sure, I could tell you that he’s got a B minus in my class right now. We could sit here and talk about grades, and attendance, and behavior, but… he’s trying really hard and I don’t think that you can… quantify that. There aren’t grades for effort. They don’t give marks for how many lonely students you offer a place to sit in the cafeteria. It isn’t something you can measure.”

Wayne leaned closer, the ice in his eyes melting so much that he needed to blink it away. 

The sight stirred a deep part of you. The easing of the bracing steel into something so much softer. Tender like a bruise. You thought about Eddie Munson with pen on his hand and shame in his eyes. Your nose burned.

“You know he’s got a lot of leadership qualities too,” you said, steadying the quiver from your voice. “He’s in a band, he runs a club. He’s involved and engaged. He’s…” your eyes lowered again, thumbing at the pen on your desk. “He’s got an enormous heart,” you said, quieter. “I think he’s just… extraordinary. If you want to know the truth.”

Wayne glanced away, toward the windows, as he swiped a calloused finger at his cheek. “M’sorry,” he muttered, blinking. “Y’know I’ve been goin’ to these for the past, what is it… nine years now? Nobody ever has nothin’ good to say about ‘im. Not a single one.”

An ache sank deep in your chest. It stung, like your eyes did when you imagined the younger versions of the man who took that chair most often, and those of the one in it now. Sitting in front of the big desk. Facing someone who was far less kind than you on the other side.

“You’re the one who’s been tutoring ‘im, aren’t you?”

You swallowed, stomach churning again. You figured he’d mentioned that. It would have been strange for him not to. “Yes. A few times a week after school. It seems to be helping. He showed me his progress report, all passing grades so far. He’s gonna walk that stage this year. He will if I have anything to do about it.”

Wayne cracked a smile at your determination. “Well thank you kindly for all your patience. I mean it. The boy’s always struggled in school. Been an issue even ‘fore I had ‘im.”

“What happened before you had him?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you even had a moment to process whether they were appropriate or not. Whether it was your place to ask. 

Wayne sighed deep as his weathered hand eased the exhaustion creasing his brow. “My younger bother is… really somethin’ else to put it mildly. Always has been. He’s in county now doin’ time for stealin’ cars and other petty shit— sorry, young lady, pardon my French.” 

You shook your head and waved it off, the humor of his comment overshadowed by the concern twisting in your stomach. “It’s fine, really. Please continue.”

“Ed’s mom on the other hand, well she had ‘er own problems but not like him. Actually, I recon Warren was the biggest problem she ever had. Real young when she had Ed, maybe 19, if even. ’S hard to remember. Younger than Warren was, I know that much. We were all still livin’ in West Virginia at the time. A few years after that Warren got in hot water with the law. Packed up Lorena and the baby and settled in Hawkins with a few gamblin’ buddies he’d met from out this way.”

A twist, deep in your heart. You swallowed, leaning forward.

“Well, Warren managed to find some stable employment fixin’ cars. Stayed out of trouble for a few more years. Then Lorena started gettin’ sick. Always had issues with her heart, see. I don’t think the stress of livin’ out here with Warren helped none. I seen the way he’d talk to her when I would visit, always so suspicious of every damn thing.”

Your chest was so tight all of a sudden. Head filled with flashes of images you’d never seen. Images that you could feel. A woman in a cotton dress looking out a window. A profound loneliness. A longing for a freedom she may never know.  

“When Warren started gettin’ into trouble again I knew I had to do something, for Ed and Lori’s sake. They put ‘im away for a year that time, so I packed it up and moved out here. It was a good year. Gave us all a break from my brother. Sorry to go on a tangent, it’s just been a lot.” Wayne sighed deeply, smoothing his beard with his hand.

 “No, no you’re fine,” you reassured, putting on your best mask for him. Behind it you were breaking.

“He was worse when he came back though. Started gettin’ into drugs. Few years after that, Lori passed due to her heart. Ed was ten at the time. I shouldn’t have let the bastard have him at all, but he was stubborn as hell and he had custody. Had ‘im for a year before he finally messed up bad enough to go away for a long while. Best thing he ever did was go to jail, I’ll tell you what.”

 “I—,” you took a deep breath, the pen on the desk so enthralling again, “I’m sorry, this is… I wasn’t, um, expecting—”

“No I’m… sorry to dump all this on you. Don’t get many people who wanna listen to be honest.”

“No, it’s really ok. I’m the one who asked. It’s just…”

“I know. Kid’s had it rough, to put it mildly.”

You took a slow, shaky inhale to steady yourself and found the courage to meet his eyes again. “He’s incredibly lucky to have you,” you said earnestly.

The ice in his eyes melted again. The steel now soft and pliant. The weight in him less heavy.

“You’ve done such a good job raising him,” you offered gently, swallowing your tears. “Really, he’s a wonderful person. You should be so proud.” 

Wayne sighed, allowing a full, bright smile to wash over him. He blinked quickly, glancing toward the windows again, and you wondered how often he heard that. If he ever did before.

“Thank you,” he said, barely audible. 

It was strange, your sudden fondness for a man you dreaded meeting. 

“I should be thanking you. For sharing. For everything,” you said, stilling the quiver in your chest with a deep breath. “I think that’s all I really have for you today.” Your trembling hands gripped the chair beneath you.

Wayne nodded, “I’m glad I came. For once.”

You smiled, big and bright. “I’m glad you did too.” You extended your hand, your open palm hovering in the space between you. “It’s been an honor to meet you.”

Wayne’s warm, calloused hand bridged the great divide and squeezed yours gently. Lingered for a moment. “You as well,” he said, a fondness you could feel in his touch. He gave a firm shake before letting go.

“Have a great rest of your day,” you said with mustered cheer as he creaked out of the wooden chair.

“You as well,” he said with a wave as he made his way toward the door. His footsteps faded beyond the threshold, into the din of the hallway. 

A deep, ragged sigh escaped you.

You thought about Eddie Munson again. Thought about his oval face and big brown eyes. Thought about them smaller. In a hospital. Filled with unspeakable sadness. Sitting in the emptiness she left behind. At home by himself drawing dragons on his pages. Fighting a monster in his living room.

Eddie Munson. With pen on his hand and shame in his eyes. 

There was hope in them too. Unbreakable. Eager and wild. Restless, and frenetic, and warm. 

All at once.

It surfaced then. The strangled sob that released from your chest. It echoed off the tile floor and concrete walls that would still surround you both.

______

A/N: Apologies for how angsty that was. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it though, lots to explore in these new worlds we're uncovering ;)

As always, I deeply appreciate any and all comments -- keyboard smashes, theories, small novels, all of it. I work very hard on this story and hearing your reactions fuels me in ways that I can only begin to tell you.

Please reblog and help others to find my precious creation! ✨

Taglist: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @wroteclassicaly @kissmyacdc @mantorokk-writes @loveshotzz @newlips @kasbite @trashmouth-richie @carolmunson @wordscomehither @munson-blurbs @blue-mossbird @alottanothing @bebe07011 @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @bibieddiesgf @idkidknemore @alizztor @godcreatoreli @shotgunhallelujah @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @luna-munson83 @eddiemunsonsbitcch @tlclick73 @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @catherinnn @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @big-ope-vibes @ruby-dragon @ladylilylost @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @quinnsfineline @chaoticgood-munson @hanahkatexo @eddiemunsonsbedroom @beep-beep-sherlock @emily-roberts

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson older reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x teacher!reader #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson angst #don't stand so close to me

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy on AO3

Excerpts from the Targaryen Histories in regards to Lady Abrogail Strong, as collected by Archmaester Gyldayn

[…] Introduced by the Lord Hand's wife, Lady Cybell Reyne, Lyonel Strong and Celeste Reyne were a love match. The third and final marriage for the lord, the two of them complimented the other well. The Lady Celeste was both a kind and formidable woman, a true lioness of the Westerlands. It was said that she could speak so sweetly for nightblooms to open in the day, and command an army as easily as she could command the ladies at a summer picnic. Lord Lyonel was a quiet man, intimidating upon sight but could easily indulge in discussing more obscure moments of history with great vigor. Children would be difficult for the couple, and after miscarriages and a child who passed shortly after birth, Abrogail Strong was born in the cool, early days of spring in 109 AC. Lord Lyonel named her for one of his more obscure historical interests of the demon sorceress, Abrogail Thrune, of Asshai.

Grandmaester Mellos has the most to share during this time, having attended the Lady Celeste in her final years and thus we can take his writings as primary source. The child, Abrogail, was installed in the nursery along with the young Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena. The children were soon joined by the infant Prince Aemond, raised together as kin, under the watchful eye of the Queen and Lady Celeste. The children were rambunctious and close, frequently seen together exploring and playing. Sources agree that tensions began to rise once Princess Rhaenyra's firstborn son, Jacaerys Velaryon, joined what had been affectionately dubbed The Clutch per the command of the King. Later sources suggest that the rumors of Jacaerys' bastard parentage were strengthened here as the children grew older, with many remarking that both Abrogail and Jacaerys shared the same smile and dimples. The initial rumors questioned due to the darker features the boy had compared to both his assumed parentage; it was the similarities with the young Abrogail that narrowed the potential fathers down to Ser Harwin Strong, Rhaenyra's champion and sworn shield.

Stories are told that the Hand of the King had attempted to resign but the King refused his request, and demanded that he return after setting his heir up in the Riverlands. Abrogail was meant to have accompanied them, but Larys Strong himself states that his father decided that he would send for her later. It was a decision that saved the child's life. Fire broke out in the holding, killing Lyonel and Harwin without any chance of rescue.

Grandmaester Mellos' records state that the child fell into a depression so deep, they feared she might take her own life. She had gone mute and listless, refusing to engage in activities that once delighted her, and refused to eat. She was considered unwell enough that it was deemed unwise to allow her to attend Harrenhal for her beloved father and brother's funeral. When informed of this, Lady Abrogail gave no reaction, and seemed to sink further into her grief. Septon Eustace provides an account of witnessing both Abrogail and Prince Aegon in the sept, where the Prince had joined her in her prayers. He does not know what words were exchanged between the pair, but witnessed a smile grace the Lady's face before he led her out by the hand to ride Sunfyre, a past time that the pair would indulge in together for years to come.

[…] There was little surprised when, on Prince Aegon's nameday in 126 AC, the official betrothal was announced between the prince and the Lady Abrogail. What was surprising was the declaration that the pair would reside in the Riverlands. House Targaryen had one holding outside the Iron Throne, that of Dragonstone, which Aenys Targaryen had made the seat of the heir. While many had expected the king to name his first born son heir during the festivities, it appeared that the king had other ideas. Had Queen Alicent sought to bolster her son's position and gain the support of the Riverlands when the time came? Or had King Viserys finally stepped in between the factions of his household, declaring Aegon's seat to be gained through his wife, and a holding that held such tragedy and foreboding?

@fyeahhotdocs, @ocappreciation, @stannisfactions, @fragilestorm, @starcrossedjedis, @darkwolf76, @arrthurpendragon, @dopedaegus, @hiddenqveendom, @mantillon, @lightofthearrow, @songsonacliffside, @acrossthesestars, @insabecs, @prosemoireia, @dragonsbone, @corporalicent, @jadore-andor, @selfproclaimedunicorn, @gwenllian-in-the-abbey, @notbloodraven, @impales, @arcielee, @thesunfyre4446, @thatmagickjuju, @kingsmakers

#house of the dragon #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #hotd oc #house of the dragon oc #aegon targaryen x oc #aegon x oc #aegon ii targaryen x oc #my edits #aegon x abby #abby x aegon #fic: the maiden and the drowning boy #LOOK I MADE THE CHARACTER INTRO I MEANT TO #I'm so excited to post chapter 9 #hope you like!

[barbariankingdom]

A 2nd Century BC, plate found in a temple at Ai Khanum in northern Afghanistan depicting Cybele, a votive sacrifice, and the sun God. Ai Khanum (Lady Moon) was a city founded in 4th Century BC, following conquests of Alexander the Great and was one of the primary cities of Greco-Bactrian kingdom.

[hanzajesthanza]

women, magic, power... grail

andrzej sapkowski interviewed 2000 / lysistrata, illustrated by norman lindsay / mother goddess, wikipedia / seated woman of çatalhöyük / tower of fools / cybele / świat króla artura / hecate / tower of fools / catholic mariology, madonna of the rose bower / pietà of the lubiąż abbey (lower silesia, poland) / warriors of god / samson and delilah, master e.s. / the last wish / the vampire, by philip burne-jones / tower of fools / sir galahad receives the holy grail, edwin austin abbey / świat króla artura / lady of the lake

[terf/radfem DNI]

#web weaving #andrzej sapkowski #the witcher #the witcher books #hussite trilogy #the world of king arthur #excerpt #geralt #yennefer #ciri #s: you've condemned yourself to me #s: my aucassin pursued for love #reynevan #jutta de apolda #i like a gershwin tune... how about you?

[thegodwhocums]

Could you talk more about agdistis? It seems they're a deity who is considered nonbinary which 😳 i can't believe I haven't come across them before!! What are their celebrations like, esp from a queer point of view? (I'm @arkefthos, this is my main)

oh MAN YES LET'S GET INTO IT

Agdistis is an entity from Phrygian and Anatolian mythology - adjacent to and overlapping with the Greek pantheon. if you are familiar with the goddess Cybele, Agdistis can be considered either her child, an aspect/epithet of her, or a piece of her that was cracked off by a traumatic event. my experience is mostly with that third way.

Agdistis is described using some fucked up language in the myths, but we could consider them bi-gendered, intersex, trans, nonbinary, or bi-sexual in the sense of their physical body having both "male" and "female" secondary sex characteristics. any of those modern terms would be correct, I think (and here I use "trans" in the sense popularized by Leslie Feinberg, Kate Bornstein, and their contemporaries, as opposed to the more popular usage among younger folks today - anyone who transgresses binary gender).

primary sources on Agdistis include Arnobius and Pausanias. their language around this entity is super dehumanizing, so be aware of that going in. the myths tell stories that overlap and diverge, some making Agdistis an independent goddess, some making them an alter ego of Cybele, etc, as I mentioned above.

@flamingkorybante (aka Rocket) and I first encountered Agdistis in the (foundational, and dated but still valuable) book Hermaphrodeities by Raven Kaldera in... 2015? when the two of us worked with maybe six other ritualists to call in a variety of trans(ish) deities and let the attendees of the ritual interact with them for healing and affirmation. it was a hell of a ritual, and Rocket has detailed the months that followed that ritual. (here's a Drive link to the PDF of that book.)

as of now Rocket and I are building up a pretty simple mystery cult around Agdistis and their story, especially their sexy-madness rampage across the Mediterranean region and their subsequent death at the hands of Dionysos.we have not come across any historical evidence of them having a proper cult in ancient times. as a result, this work relies heavily on divination which makes it very likely that others will have different interpretations of them them than we do! they are a complex being with a serious trauma history alongside a LOVE of partying.

so the process of figuring out their celebrations is a beautiful and joyful work in progress! here are some things we do.

there are three main festivals when we devote attention and activities to Agdistis: Anthesteria around February, the Friday of NYC Pride (the Drag March) in June, and @trans-rite in November

we consider them an ancestor and honor them alongside our other queer and trans ancestors of spirit

we make offerings on the full moon (the moon itself does not seem super significant, but it is a nice recurring schedule) - they do not seem picky about what we offer, but particularly like almonds, mugwort smoke, pine, and sweets. their favorite is if you cry and shout and share your bad feelings with them so they can eat them

there is a short poem in Latin that we refer to as "the couplet," which can be used to invoke them, or to offer a trigger or painful emotion to them: "Dea, Magna Dea, Cybebe, Dea Domina Dindymi, demitte me tuo furor parvu, obsecro, ut furor magnum pertransit me." It calls to Agdistis's Mother and translates to "Goddess, Great Goddess, Cybele, Lady Goddess of the Mountain, visit your small madness upon me, I pray, that the Great Madness may pass me by."

they also really like to be invoked on your way into a party!

we are working with @dionysiandevotee to schedule an AMA about Agdistis and the Agdistine Order over on Reddit sometime in the next month, so if that's a platform you use, keep an eye out.

finally, if you like, here is the essay on Agdistis that Rocket and I wrote in 2018. the daemon has calmed down with us a little since then but they can be INTENSE. please take care, the essay talks a lot about sexual assault and transphobic violence in the context of both mythology and modern life.

this response was probably more than you bargained for. good luck and have fun! reach back out if you have any questions.

#agdistis #the order #rocket tag #anatolian #phrygian #cybele #trans #intersex

[words-on-pa-per]

Odysseus has the rep of being such a good guy, but he wasn’t the best. I mean, most of the hero’s weren’t. It’s questionable who actually did the deed, but some versions say that Odysseus threw Hector’s son off of a wall as a victory thing. And then he cheated on his wife with our favorite pharmakis, Lady Circe. By the way, read Circe by Madeline Miller. So, Greek heroes were morally gray, if not just asshats. But, I bet everyone here loves a morally gray character. I mean, I like Odysseus because most of the things he did had dubious reasons.

If we’re taking about him cheating with Circe, Madeleine Miller put it beautifully. Btw I don’t agree with cheating in real life, I just think it was written well.

“When you are in Egypt you worship Isis, when in Anatolia, you kill a lamb for Cybele. It does not trespass on your Athena still at home.”

…I mean. This is sort of incredible.

UPDATED INFO: https://www.tumblr.com/words-on-pa-per/745860640526254080/oh-thank-you-so-much-for-clearing-that-up-im

#odysseus #circe #the odyssey #greek mythology #our main man Odysseus #we know this dude loved his wife #but was he faithful??? #meh #at least it wasn’t as often as Zeus or some shit #maybe Telemachus was right to kill him

[telekinetictrait]

Marriage is not essential to the contentment, the dignity, or the happiness of women. (Hope Leslie: or, Early Times in the Massachusetts – Catharine Maria Sedgwick, 1827)

next decade in the 223 years series is the 1820s! if you can't tell, i struggled a bit with this decade, mostly because the 1820s was a very transitional decade. the large puff sleeves would continue through the 1830s, but waistlines slowly lowered (and got smaller), and skirts got larger. you also start to see some more elaborate updos and headpieces that are synonymous with the 1830s.

1800-1809 / 1810-1819

cc links and creator tags under the cut!

see my resources page

camellia : gilded-ghosts' heywood bun / linzlu's fancy bonnet / historicalsimslife's casual regency dress

cerise : mosneaker's folklore hair / linzlu's birthday bonnet / peebsplays' penelope dress / maushasi’s acc. lace top (search ‘lace’, accessory included in file)

chantelle : buzzardly28's emma hair / atashi77's isobel accessory bangs / batsfromwesteros' josephine pearl necklace / acanthus-sims' tied fichu / simverses' victoria top conversion / angieshade's to the fair skirt

cirila : hazelminesim's maple hair / simverses' mistress mysterium hat / gilded-ghosts' highbury chemisette / tiptoptab's calliope hat / simverses barnacle skirt / gilded-ghosts' hartfield boots

clarabel : tekri's realistic cinderella bun / batsfromwesteros' lotus flower tiara / peebsplays' sophia evening dress / joliebean's satin tip toes

constantina : tekri's fawn loops / simverses' hat with feathers and bow / teanmoon's cameo choker / acanthus-sims lace tied fichu / peebsplays' portia dress / simverses' silk flats conversion

croía : tekri's cartoon cinderella bun / the-melancholy-maiden's 1820s hair flowers / acanthus-sims ruffled fichu / simverses's puffy corset dress conversion

csilla : tekri's cinnamon roll hair / tekri's cinderella hairband / acanthus-sims' dress ruffles

cvetka : the-melancholy-maiden's antoinetta hair + pearl ferronniere / plumbobteasociety's victorian tea dress / tzuhu's accessory lace top / lady-moriels' beauclair noble shoes

cybele : the-melancholy-maiden's pinned curls updo / the-melancholy-maiden's 1820s hair flowers / acanthus-sims' tied fichu / cooper322's vanessa dress

thank you to @gilded-ghosts @linzlu @historicalsimslife @mosneakers @peebsplays @buzzardly28 @atashi-cc-finds @batsfromwesteros @acanthus-sims @simverses @angieshade @hazelminesims @tiptoptab @tekri @joliebean @teanmoon @the-melancholy-maiden @lady-moriel and @cooper322!

#my sims #sims 4 lookbook #sims 4 historical lookbook #ts4 historical lookbook #ts4lookbook #223 years #1820s #regency #historical

[ancestorsalive]

Dheut-e-Zonja, or Zôja-e-Dheut ("Lady of the Earth"), was the Illyrian/Albanian Earthmother of the ancient Balkans, also called Dheun, Dheu, and Toka ("Earth"), and Mëmë-dheu ("Mother Earth"). The Romans identified her with Tellus Mater, Terra Mater, or Magna Mater (Cybele). The very soil of Dheut-e-Zonja was believed to have the powers of an all-seeing eye that watched humanity from the ground up, knowing everywhere each of us goes. When an Albanian moved to a foreign land, he or she took with them a container of Mother Earth, as the concept of the Earthmother was regionalized. She was Mother of the Sun-goddess, rebirthing Her every morning. She cared for the dead, their remains buried and their soul going to an underworld paradise. Mourners would get on their knees making forlorn wailing sounds, then place their foreheads on Mother Earth. She was sometimes paired with Zoh-z, the Albanian Sky-god, with many formulaic sayings or prayers to Earth and Sky. Presumedly he was her husband. Dheut-e-Zonja was mother of vegetation. Her sacred groves were designated natural sites of great beauty, where it was forbidden to cut down trees, and no house or settlement was permitted, or the offenders' families would suffer longlasting misfortune.

An Albanian and Kosovan folk practice that lasted into the 20th Century provides lingering evidence of an Earthmother cult. Infants and children who were not thriving would be taken to a ritual location by an elderly woman of the family or village, there laid upon the ground, and covered with fresh earth, all except the head, the while reciting prayers or spells of healing. This was believed to impart the Earth's strength to the child.

Figurine: Copper Age ceramic goddess figurine found at Maliqi, Albania.

#Goddess #Copper Age #ceramic #Goddess figurine #Maliqi #Albania #Dheut-e-Zonja #mother of vegetation #sacred groves #folkways #Kosova #Earthmother cult #rituals #sacred ways #ancient ways #Ancestors Alive! #What is Remembered Lives #Sun-Goddess #Zôja-e-Dheut #Lady of the Earth #Balkans

[redbatchedcumbermayned]

DOPAMINE WEEK Fic rec #3

by tumblr user @pallysuune

Why should you read it? Ever thought about what it would be like to live with a Harlequin, and a Solitaire at that? Wanted to explore the relationship with Nocturne of Oblivion more? And have a bit of Heinrix on the side? Well, well, have I the fic for you. The premise of a marriage between a human and an Aeldari is intriguing, and you have Heinrix as bodyguard of the young Lady Meliana Michelene Aleran de Cybelle, who has to marry the mysterious Aeldari. It's excellently written. Nocturne of Oblivion is brought to life with so much wit that it's a joy to read. The budding relationship between Heinrix and the young Lady is intriguing. I subscribed instantly. I didn't know I needed this, but turns out I really need this fic. Well, done @pallysuune, well done. :))

#dopamine week #rogue trader #warhammer 40k #heinrix van calox #fanfiction

[actualmermaid]

Today's queer saint of the day is Our Lady of Montevirgene, the miracle of 1256, and the Juta dei Femminielli.

This is one of those things where you start researching it and immediately go "whoa! EVERYONE needs to know about this!" It is something that is (unfortunately) extremely rare in Christianity: a venerable and explicit celebration of queerness, and specifically transfeminine identity.

The abbey of Montevirgene, near Naples in Italy, was built in the 1100s on top of the ruins of a temple to Cybele or Magna Mater, an ancient earth goddess who was (and still is) served by transfeminine priestesses called gallae. The local people fully accept that early Christian missionaries identified Cybele with Mary in order to encourage conversion, and they do not see any conflict in it. Whether it's Cybele or Mary, there is a divine presence on Montevirgene, and it is a divine presence that loves and protects queer and trans people in particular.

According to the legend, in AD 1256, a young queer couple was being persecuted by their community. They were stripped, beaten, and left for dead on top of the hill in the middle of winter. Moved by their plight, the Madonna warmed them with a ray of sunshine, and they survived. The community accepted this as a miracle, and let the young couple return in peace. Ever since then, the miracle has been commemorated with a grand procession and celebration on Candelora or Candlemass (February 2). Part of this celebration involves the "Juta dei Femminielli," which I have mostly seen translated into English as the "March of the Transsexuals."

Femminielli are actually a culturally-specific transfeminine identity that doesn't translate neatly into English, and they are an ancient community of people who pre-date modern notions of gender identity and sexual orientation. Dancing, singing, drumming, and wearing fun costumes, they lead the pilgrimage up the hill to the abbey, where Mass is celebrated and the pilgrims venerate the icon of the Madonna. It has been called "the world's oldest Pride parade."

There is some conflict between the pilgrims and the abbey, but that too seems like part of the performance: almost an acknowledgment of the tension between the pleasant organic weirdness of "folk" Christianity and the dour, patriarchal, no-fun-allowed institutional Church. However, if the abbey really didn't want the pilgrims there, they had 800 years to suppress them, and the pilgrimage continues with the agreement that they will not disturb the celebration of the Mass. After all, the pilgrims are also devoted Roman Catholics, and they respect the sanctity of the sacraments. It is a celebration of the meeting between the sacred and profane, heaven and earth, masculine and feminine, and it does not appear to be going away any time soon.

If you want to know more about this apparition and the pilgrimage, I recommend this 23-minute documentary​

There is also a Qspirit entry and a website to promote the pilgrimage

#christianity #queer #trans #history #italy

[dea-syria]

At the head of the female procession and facing the great god who is borne on the two men, stands a goddess on a lioness or panther. Her costume does not differ from that of the women: her hair hangs down in a long plait behind: in her extended right hand she holds out an emblem to touch that of the god. The shape and meaning of her emblem are obscure. It consists of a stem with two pairs of protuberances, perhaps leaves or branches, one above the other, the whole being surmounted, like the emblem of the god, by an oval with a cross-bar.  ... The goddess who at the head of the procession of women confronts the great sky-god in the sanctuary at Boghaz-Keui is generally recognized as the divine Mother, the great Asiatic goddess of life and fertility. The tall flat-topped hat with perpendicular grooves which she wears, and the lioness or panther on which she stands, remind us of the turreted crown and lion-drawn car of Cybele, who was worshipped in the neighbouring land of Phrygia across the Halys. So Atargatis, the great Syrian goddess of Hierapolis-Bambyce, was portrayed sitting on lions and wearing a tower on her head.At Babylon an image of a goddess whom the Greeks called Rhea had the figures of two lions standing on her knees.

--Simon Frazer, "The Golden Bough"

The Hittite frieze at Boghaz-Keui shows a goddess figure at the head of a procession, standing on a lioness or panther, holding some kind of plant or tree.

Familiar Near Eastern Goddess motifs -- the lady flanked by lionesses with a tall mural crown, holding the Tree of Life. Symbols of power and sovereignty over the natural world.

#hittite #lioness #panther #tree of life #mural crown #cybele #atargatis #rhea

[reno-matago]

I finally asked for my silkworm cocoons at museum collections service, my dudes!

My collegues: ''Oh, why do you need it?''

My soul: "These are offerings for Athena, may be Circé and probably to try magical things or spirit communication, and a perfect symbol of the land''

My real answer: ''I love nature curios!''

No seriously, this exhibition about silk workers in Lyon at the beginning of the century is a blessing.

My city, beside of the Lion ( which is not an original symbol of Lyon ('' Lugh-On'') was famous for silk work at Renaissance, under impulse of Napoléon, and also for the roses culture. we even have a suspended garden at work, based on vegetal symbolism of the XVIth, that's why I would love work with roses and offer it more often.

The origin of the name Lugdunum is not very clear. Some says it means Hill of Lugh, gaulish god of light and crafts, or Hill of the Light, but romans thought it meant ''Hill of the crows'' cause they saw crows when they founded the city.

And this hill, we call today Fourvière was probably the temple of the Juno-Jupiter-Mercury triad (i'm not sure) archeologists believed for a long time it was a sanctuaire for Cybele, but others disagree! Today, it's still connected to light, la Basilique de Fourvière, consecrated to Mary the Virgin. She was prayed for healing the plague, and Lyonnais celebrate it 8th december by lightning candles everywhere with Big light shows in the street.

Oh and I haven't even spoken of the legends ..we have a beautiful Park, Parc de la Tête d'or (''golden head'' of a legendary statue of Christ hidden in the Park), we have a dragon in the river, the Mâchecroute, and an Island with legends about the SangGraal & lavandières de la nuit, female ghosts washing the clothes of the dead in the river.

We have a White Lady, la Dame Blanche de la Croix Rousse. Lyon is also the city of Spiritisme and a true base of Freemasonry since the XVIIth.

We also have the famous Johan of Arc room for mediumship, and i can't continue it would be too long. (Nostradamus, devil worship, werewolves, heretical sects, cérémonial Magic, tempestari, catacombs and incredible tunnels, chapel of Saint-Expedite...)

Cool, isnt it?

( OH FUCK WAIT I DIDNT REALIZED...Loa Ghede Spider behind, must be pretty happy, Hello you! 😯 🕸️🕷️)

#diary #journal #lyon #france #lyonnais #Athena #circe #silkworm #silkworm cocoons #january 2023 #legends #folklore #terroir #land #city legends #ghosts #freemasonry #hellenic polytheist #lugh #god Lugh #lugdunum #light #hellenic polytheism #polytheism #goddess athena #greek gods #saint expedite #spiritism #mediumship #spider