#heathen resource

[devouredbyflame]

If Deities came to speak with humans face-to-face, most modern polytheists would be wrong.

If called down, Deities would actually be capable of making our lives easier when it comes to working with Them and listening for Their voices. The reason why it’s so hard for people to listen for the Gods is because people don’t necessarily know how important it is to develop their own personal relationship with the Divine.

We are so, so worried about being wrong and we look to other people to tell us which way we go. But there are very few experienced practitioners, even fewer effective teachers (if any at this point) and it is the blind leading the blind.

In all of my years of working with Loki, every single time I had a problem with discernment, it was always due to other people telling me I’m wrong or that their opinion was more important than my intuition. And I believed them because they seemed more knowledgeable. My beliefs I held strongly to in the beginning of my devotion to Him were always bent down by other people thinking they know more than me even though years later, they turned out to be truer than the thoughts I had after I was in a community.

You can call it beginner’s luck, but after years of seeking community, His voice became quieter and quieter. It was when I left pagan groups that I became explicitly aware of what He actually wanted from me. Confirmations started happening, the energy became denser, and things just magically started to work out that never did before and I could hear His voice speak to me in ways I didn’t think were possible prior to this reawakening.

I’m not saying we should be without community, but community resources need to be rewritten to accommodate the fact that us in the West know very little about working with the Gods. We used to. But we have no context for it anymore within society.

We can try to reconstruct a dead culture because you feel like yours is lacking but unless you’re actually receiving direct correspondence with the Divine, you will likely be unlucky in finding Their truest nature.

[grimnirs-child]

Masterpost: Frīg's Handmaidens Project

Who are the Handmaidens?

In the Prose Edda, twelve Goddesses are listed after Frigga as Ásynjur: Fulla, Gefjon, Hlín, Syn, Eir, Sága, Gná, Vár or Vór, Snotra, Vör, Lofn and Sjöfn. Modern Heathens sometimes refer to Them as Frigga's Handmaidens. (This is a piece of shared gnosis, not an historically attested term.) For many of the Twelve, this is all that survives in the way of attestations.

What is the Project?

Gradually over several years, and more intentionally recently, I have been building a devotional cultus around these Goddesses. As part of that, I've been putting together primers on each of the Twelve on my longform blog -- detailing Their surviving attestations, Old English God-names and epithets for Them, my own personal experiences and upg, a prayer, and devotional icon art -- as well as essays and modern myths exploring other aspects of Them and my cultus to Them.

Although I use Old English names for Them and honour Them in a syncretic heathen practice drawing on influences from across the British and Irish Isles, I hope these may be useful and/or interesting for practitioners working in a Norse, Continental, or other context. Or for anyone worshipping and building cultus to lesser-known and lesser-attested Gods!

I will update this post periodically, but if you like you can subscribe to my longform Wordpress blog for updates when I post.

Primers

Fulla

Geofen (Gefjon)

Hlēowen (Hlin)

Ār (Eir)

Saga

Lofen & Siofen (Lofn & Sjöfn)

Snotor (Snotra)

Wearn, or Syn (Syn)

Wær (Vör)

Essays and other posts

Introduction to the Project

Essay on abundance, ānanda, and Fulla

Essay on Frīg and Her importance to my cosmology

The Wren and her sister: a myth of Frīg feat. Ār and Gnæ

Essay on marriage as initiation, feat. Lofen, Siofen and Āþ

[uraharasfavoriteexperiment]

hey guys! hayle here, one of two admins on this blog! so i'm in the editing phase of a mahito x m!reader fic involving the yawata no yabushirazu forest in ichikawa, japan, so i thought i'd make a little post including some research i've done, as well as some information regarding some of the devices mahito and reader use to communicate with the spirits in the forest they're in. read up, and feel free to reblog this to spread the info to friends!

the yawata no yabushirazu forest, commonly shortened to "yawata forest," or "the forbidden forest," ichikawa is a sizeable and fairly developed city just outside tokyo, less than half an hour away, with an estimated population of 500,000 people. ichikawa lies in the western kiba chen prefecture of east-central honshu, japan. ichikawa is located along the edo river, and across the river borders tokyo to the west, and is also located just northwest of funabashi.

the yawata forest is home to many spiritual legends, many of which are the primary reason the forest was given its name. one fairly prevalent theory about the yawata forest is that it's involved with taira no masakado, who the japanese label to be the first samurai.

another largely effective reason the forest is so famous is because of the large expanse of trees' funny little habit of whisking people away to never be seen again, which leads me to a comment mahito makes in the story: " 'did you know that this forest is part of what inspired spirited away? the studio ghibli movie?' mahito says softly, grinning."

mahito was correct in making this comment; a considerably large piece of the inspiration for studio ghibli's animated movie spirited away was the yawata forest's silly little habit of, essentially, repeated mass kidnapping.

the story in question involves some moderately heavy paranormal content, a large part of which consists of mahito and reader using some paranormal investigation devices such as the ovilus, the spirit box, the electromagnetic field (emf) reader, and more. now don't mind me while i explain the main uses of each device that appears in the story.

the ovilus - the ovilus is a communication device invented in god knows when by bill chappel. the device used by professional and amateur/just-for-fun explorers and ghost hunters in paranormal investigations. the device works by detecting electromagnetic energy- which may appear in the form of, for example, voices that living ears can't detect- then assigning a number to it that corresponds with a word in the dictionary. spirits and other entities (ie: demons, poltergeists) use the ovilus to attempt conversations with the living people who are operating the device. some alternatives to the ovilus that operate similarly are the spirit box, the hexcom, and the polterscript.

the estes method - the estes method is a method of interworld communication used by some of the more daring explorers and ghost hunters. the method was created by karl pfeiffer during his investigation of the stanley hotel in estes park, colorado, and is now a widely popular method of communication that many people use. the method requires two or more people in order for the attempt(s) to work, and it involves one- sometimes two, as seen in some of sam and colby's videos- people putting on noise-cancelling headphones that are connected to a spirit box. the person(s) wearing the headphones are also blindfolded. the other member(s) of the group ask the spirits questions and attempt general conversations with the spirits in the room or area, and the spirits or entities may choose to or not to use the spirit box to speak into the headphones, sometimes in response to questions asked by the living side of the conversation, and the wearer(s) of the headphones and blindfold repeat every word they hear. the estes method is very effective, and many questions asked receive an answer, but sometimes the words they spirits say are random, and sometimes they're unsolicited tid bits of information corresponding to the spirit's death, their opinions, their goals, etc.

the séance method - the séance method is another common communication method used by explorers and paranormal investigators. this method is sort of similar to the estes method, but this one fortunately doesn't involve cutting off people's two most important senses. the seance method involves setting candles in a circle on a table or floor and lighting them, and it's not uncommon for people to put cups of water and relevant objects inside the circle and surround the circle of candles and/or sometimes the area directly around them with a line of salt as an attempt to keep potential poltergeists and malevolent spirits at bay of physical contact; most people don't want to be scratched and burned by demons posing as little girls with depressing death stories. the séance method has been used many times in historically famous attempts at conversation with spirits, demons, poltergeists, etc., and seems to have a lightly sporadic rate of failure versus success in comparison to the estes method, which almost always works, whether it's just the spirit box spewing shit or an actual spirit.

sources :

a largely common source i'd like to give credit to for the information in this post is hada, my lovely professional ghost hunting boyfriend, fellow owner and creator and primary organization person of this account!

yawata forest location/landscape informationovilus informationthe estes methodtaira no masakadoan interesting example of an investigation/exploration of the forest

this post shall be updated as i continue to write the story. feel free to subscribe to the conversation in the comments under the post if you'd like to ask me a question or make a comment! i'm always open to new information and ideas for the story, and new bits of history as well! please do like this post if you found it interesting, and feel free to reblog this to spread the info to friends!do not copy or repost this information verbatim on other fandom and social media sites, i am a law student and i am in full understanding of my rights of copyright. you have been pleasantly warned.

note from hayle: dont ask me abt the range of post tags. also i warn you now, the story that is the reason you're reading this post involves demonic possession, and the scene is incredibly graphic.

[taking-thyme]

The Structure of a Pagan Prayer

When appealing to a deity or making an offering, it’s wise to know how this was traditionally done in the past so you can be as respectful as possible and build a true reciprocity with the gods. This type of prayer structure is found in all manner of pagan religions from Norse paganism, Hellenic (Greek) polytheism, Kemetic (Egyptian) prayer and so on. I got the inspiration and much of the information here from @Ocean Keltoi on Youtube who is a fantastic scholar and Norse heathen who actively stands against prejudice and is all around a wonderful resource. 

Now, there are three main elements of a pagan prayer, which should be done in this order:

1. The Invocation. This is where you call upon the specific god you’re hoping to connect with. Think of it as writing the name and address on your letter to the Gods - it lets the deity know that this prayer is directed at them, which is important in a polytheistic religion with many gods. To start your invocation, address the deity directly by name, or use an epithet or kenning that they're known by. It's especially wise to choose an epithet that relates to what you're praying for, like using one of Apollo's healer epithets while addressing him in a prayer about a loved one's sickness,  for instance. It’s also a good idea to praise them highly and with a certain air of reverence. These are ancient deities after all. 

2. The Argument. Here you give your reasons for why a deity should fulfill your request and favor you. If you’ve brought offerings, cite them here. You can also include reasons for why you’re reaching out, such as love in a prayer for Aphrodite or matters of justice with the god Tyr. This is where you make your case to them. And if you’re reaching out to a deity you don’t have a working relationship with, which let’s be honest will be the case many more times than we’d like, then you can tell them this here also. A good example might be “Oh Tyr, one-handed war god and son of Odin, though we have not met before I have heard your name and been called to it…”

3. The Request. Finally you ask the gods to look kindly on your request and to grant you their blessing. Again, be as respectful and reverent as possible towards them. 

Prayer Example: “Grey-eyed Athena, daughter of thundering Zeus, if ever I have poured out sweet wine for you, look kindly on me and grant me your wisdom.”

How to stand when making the prayer

This depends on which God you’re reaching out to and, of course, your own personal comfort. The most common ways of praying are to stand and perform some gesture of reverence, kneel while praying and even prostrate, kneeling fully on the ground with your head down as you appeal to the gods. Some might also choose to wear veils when performing prayers or rituals for deities, though this is naturally up to the individual. 

In Hellenic tradition, if you’re praying to an Ouranic god (deities of the heavens) you would traditionally wear your hair up and stand with your arms raised to the heavens while reciting your prayer. Meanwhile, if you are praying to a Chthonic god (deities of the underworld), you would kneel and face downwards towards the Earth with your hair flowing freely. 

Some Norse sources tell of ancient pagans prostrating before the gods, and yet this is still not entirely necessary. Pray however you see fit and what is most comfortable for you at the moment. 

^ This is what prostrating looks like

Sources:

Ocean Keltoi's video on pagan prayers

Hearth and Fire Work's blog post on Hellenic prayer structure

[samwisethewitch]

Book Review: Freya: Meeting the Norse Goddess of Magic by Morgan Daimler

I just finished a reread of this book and realized I've never talked about it on this blog, even though it ties into a lot of my content.

I've talked about my relationship with Freyja here before. She is the deity I have worked with most consistently in my personal practice, and she's been a strong presence in my life since I was a child. Even before I was interested in witchcraft or paganism, I was drawn to stories and images of Freyja.

Unfortunately, quality books about Freyja are hard to find in English. A lot of the wonderful work being done by Scandinavian scholars and heathens is only available in their native languages. A lot of English-language resources are either very academic and prohibitively expensive, or they are books about goddess worship more generally that only mention Freyja on a few pages. Freyja, Lady, Vanadis: An Introduction to the Goddess by Patricia M. Lafayllve is a pretty good beginner's resource, but it's only available in paperback, which can be a barrier for some readers.

All of this is to say, I was very excited when Morgan Daimler put out this book. I've talked about how much I love Daimler's work before on this blog -- I think they do really great research AND do a really good job of making all that information accessible for a beginner. I have several of Daimler's books on Norse and Irish deities, and all of them are resources I reference often in my practice.

This book follows a similar formula to Daimler's other books on deities, like Odin or the Morrigan. Daimler presents Freyja's mythology, folklore, associations, and relationships. There is also an entire chapter dedicated to Freyja's connection to seiðr, which explains what seiðr is and why it is important in a very straightforward way. There is also an entire chapter dedicated to connecting with Freyja as a modern worshiper.

I like that Daimler includes a section at the end of each chapter about their own experiences with Freyja. I also like that they talk about the importance of actually experiencing the gods and trusting our experiences. It's easy to fall into the trap of thinking that anything that doesn't match up with primary sources is wrong, and I like that Daimler takes time to shoot down that idea.

I also really like that Daimler does not tell you how to interpret the lore. Daimler presents a story, explains the different ways it could be interpreted, and leaves readers to make their own conclusions. This is a style of teaching I try to use in my own work, and I love seeing it done well here.

If you know next to nothing about Freyja, I think this book is an excellent place to start. Everything you need to make that initial connection is here.

Even as someone who has worked with Freyja for years and done lots of my own research, I found a few things I didn't know here. This book also gave me a new perspective on certain aspects of Freyja's lore. This is why it's always great to compare notes with other people.

If you're interested in connecting with Freyja or just learning more about her, I highly, highly recommend this book!

[bakawitch]

Oh my god

Au where after Mr Bakura fuckin dies from ring/zorc exposure (dsod) and Yami Bakura/Zorc kills Shadi (and the child cult???) Ryou is left alone in the temple. A few days later, representatives from the Ishtar clan arrive, and they decide to take Ryou in since a Millennium Item chose him as its true host. So underground he goes!

Upon his arrival, Forefather (Mr Ishtar) tries to take away the ring from him because surely this heathen can't be the one true bearer of the ring, but the ring spikes dig themselves into poor baby Ryou's chest so that's a no go. Ryou is down for a few days, and Rishid ends up taking care of him during that time. Malik barges in once, demanding Ryou to play with him, but Rishid manages to persuade him to leave Ryou to recover.

After he gets back on his feet, Forefather graciously allows him to keep the ring, and he gets adopted into the Ishtar clan to the same degree as Rishid. So he's sort of like a lower class servant? Rishid and Ryou grow closer while he teaches Ryou about his duties and chores, while Malik gets increasingly more jealous in the background because Rishid is paying some newcomer kid more attention than him. It gets even worse for him when Isis starts babying the timid kid despite Ryou literally being older than him and not even being the sane class as them. He gets a bit more aware of his alter, and he starts getting more withdrawn.

Something happens, which causes Ryou and Malik to get trapped in an abandoned dark room together, and they are forced to confront each other. Malik is fully on the offensive, but Ryou is mostly just trying to diffuse the situation. Malik freaks out when their oil lamp flickers, but Ryou manages to distract him with stories of the surface world. They talk a little, and Ryou opens up about the ring and the voices which Malik can sort of relate to. After the light burns out, Malik nearly snaps and switches, but his new friend(?) is able to soothe him with a big warm hug and maybe lullabies his mother used to sing to him and Amane. Rishid and Isis manage to find them.

Plot progresses as usual, but now Ryou is present. He goes up with Malik and Isis to the surface to show them around and unconsciously lifts the motorcycle magazine Malik liked. When they go back down, they see the Forefather nearly killing Rishid and Malik snaps. Yamima comes out to front and catches the whip midair before it could strike them. Yami B also subtly takes over just in case to protect the host body and to observe. Yamima gets the rod but is embarrassingly clumsy with it, clumsy enough to warrant Bakura tell him the key to using it properly. Isis is mortified but quickly puts two and two together and realises that the baby is possessed by a fuckin demon. Yamima does the murder/skinning bit, and Bakura just laughs. He says goodbye and gives control back to Ryou while Yamima goes after Rishid. Ryou again manages to calm him down and Rishid whisks them away after he comes to, leaving Isis and the rest of the clan behind.

Ryou and Malik grow up and start the Ghouls together. Bakura takes care of a lot of food and resources in the early days, but Ryou eventually learns from him and becomes just as good. He's also trying to tame Yamima part-time, which is not going as well as he'd like.

Timeskip to when Yugi lends the puzzle to the museum. Malik gets notified of the completed puzzle being exhibited in Japan, so he sends Ryou ahead to scout and establish himself as a friendly face to Yugi. The rest of the plot again progresses as normal with the difference of Ryou being a bit more cheeky and pushier than in canon, Bakura and him actually working together and an extra reveal of him being involved Malik the whole time.

I'm gonna cut it off here because I don't know how to continue from here... But rest assured, there's definitely some weird ass conspireshipping dynamics involved here XD

[cicerfics]

Q's 10 Favorite Jumpers, Rated and Reviewed By 007

With Rebuttals (and Revised Rebuttals) from the Quartermaster Himself

Gifted to @foxsoulcourt over on Station Pacific, just for being awesome!

Fits Q like a glove and the shade sets off Q's lovely winter complexion. 9/10.

Didn't this ridiculous business of seasonal color analysis go out when I was still in primary school? You're dating yourself, 007.

Well, somebody has to, since you wouldn't let me take you out for a drink last night.

...

Color less garish than usual, but fuzzy texture makes Q look like he's growing mold. Off-putting. At least, as off-putting as is possible for a man of Q's caliber. 6/10.

It's mohair, you heathen, not mold!

And stop talking about my 'caliber' if you

...

The color washes out your complexion. You ought to stick to darker shades, dear. Still, this one fits you snugly and the knit is thin enough that I can see your nipples when it's chilly in the server room. 8/10, it'd look even better on my bedroom floor.

You are no longer allowed in the server room when I'm in there, effective immediately, lest I file a complaint with Human Resources. Stop looking at my nipples. (And there's a phrase I never thought I'd have to use when addressing a colleague at Her Majesty's Secret Service.)

I live to defy expectations.

Color does marvelous things for Q's eyes but the squiggles give me vertigo. 5/10.

Get your eyes checked, old man, and stop blaming my jumpers for your vision difficulties!

Ranking has dropped to 4/10 due to Q's insolence. Be nicer to me, or I'll be the one to file a complaint with HR. Age discrimination is against regulations, my dear.

Stop calling me that

I don't really think you're that old

You do need reading glasses though

I never thought I'd see the day 007 cites regulations to me.

Why are there so many bars and blocks? Why isn't the jumper one harmonious shade of gray? Atrocious. 3/10.

It's comfortable

It reminds me of that time you

Don't lie, I've caught you looking at me when I was wearing th

It's considered artistic, 007, but of course you wouldn't know anything about that.

Grand old warship, Q. Nothing more.

Don't be ridiculous, of course you're more than

...

Reminds me of my grandfather. Deeply disturbing that I still want to shag Q even when he dresses like my grandfather. 2/10, will be reporting the quartermaster to Dr. Wilson for damaging my psyche.

You will do no such thing. That poor woman has enough to bear as it is. Overseeing your routine psych screenings is enough to warrant hazard pay.

I've caught you looking at me in this one too

You don't own this one, but you should. Let me buy it for you, darling. 10/10, would tug you into a broom cupboard during your lunch hour and undo the buttons with my teeth.

What is your obsession with Tom Ford

I don't see why

You say things like this but then you never follow throu

Why did you cancel our dinner the other nigh

I am not the sort of gentleman who permits himself to be despoiled in broom cupboards, thank you very much.

Puts me in mind of those odd little sailor suits posh people used to make their children wear. I think someone put me in one, once, ages ago. 1/10, you already look young enough to make me feel like a filthy old man, no need to make it worse.

I wouldn't mind if you were a bit 'filthier', actua

Well, if the shoe fits.

And you scold me about wasting money with damaged equipment and bloodied suits. Look at the price tag on this. Outrageous. 10/10, worth every penny, you're delectable in this one.

I only bought it to treat myself after

It was my birthday and i

You said you were taking me out for dinner for the occasion but then you

…Thank you.

I'd ask what I've done to deserve this torture, but I suppose I already know the answer to that. 0/10, I will have burned this one by the time you've read this list, and I apologize for nothing.

You know exactly what you've done, yes.

Three million pounds of my department funding for heaven's sake

Not to mention the fact that you canceled our dinner after I

And I hardly bought this to torture you. I don't buy my clothes with you in mind, 007. Don't be so arrogant.

And if that isn't an empty threat and you've actually broken into my flat and destroyed my personal property, I'll have your head.

My. How forward of you, Q. Well, I'll have to insist you take me out to dinner first. Then you can have whatever bits of me you like.

Don't be vulgar, you menace.

Not unless you're going to follow through on

You're the one who backed out of the dinn

Did you really burn it?

It was a threat to national security. Could sear a man's eyes right out of his skull. It had to go.

The cats agreed with me. They didn't put up any protest when I pilfered from your wardrobe.

For heaven's sake.

Then they're getting their least favorite flavor of tinned food for supper. And you're not getting dinner from me at all.

Now, I hope I'm not being punished for cancelling on you last week.

Of course I'm not

I don't see why you

You

...

You're being punished for wasting your day reviewing my jumpers rather than completing your overdue AARs. Please allow me to direct your attention to the rather large pile of paperwork with your name on it.

Sod the paperwork.

Q. I'm sorry I cancelled. You have no idea how sorry. But something came up.

I'm sure it did.

Something to do with the job.

...

Some internal business. Something had to be taken care of.

Somebody had to be taken care of.

...

Mallory told me not to discuss it with any of the department heads just yet. I handled it, but the job won't be declassified until tomorrow. Expect Tanner to call you and the others in for a meeting in the morning.

...Oh.

Well.

You should've told me sooner.

Q, I'm shocked! You're saying I should've gone against Mallory's direct orders and disclosed classified material to you against his will?

Of course that what I'm saying, you filthy hypocrite. You could've told me. I would've been discreet.

I know you would've been. That's not the point.

...

...Bond?

I'm trying to keep you out of trouble these days.

Trying not to be the man who ruins your career.

You've never

If that's how you feel then why

Even if you did, I'd

Rather unflattering that you assume I can't take care of myself.

I can, I'll have you know. And I never asked you to protect me. I can protect myself...and I can protect you in the bargain, thank you very much. I'm rather good at it, in fact.

Well, I can't argue with you there.

...

...?

Suppose we don't wait for tomorrow's meeting.

Suppose I take you out to dinner and tell you all about the whole sordid business tonight.

...You're planning on disclosing confidential intel in the middle of an Italian restaurant?!

Suppose we skip the restaurant.

Suppose I bring a couple of curries round to your flat and we talk about it there.

The flat you recently burglarized.

Let's not dwell on the past, dear.

Besides, I think the cats are warming up to me.

And I've got an overdue birthday present for you.

...Dare I ask what it is?

A replacement for the jumper I burned. A whole new ensemble, in fact.

Something much better than anything in your wardrobe. Much worthier of you. Something to show off those good looks of yours.

Will you let me give it to you this evening?

...Ah.

Well, I was going to ask what I should wear when you come over, since you have such strong opinions on the matter.

But if you're bringing a new outfit along, perhaps I shouldn't bother to put anything on at all?

Darling, I always said you were a genius.

19:00 tonight, your place. I'd say 'dress to impress', but I think your idea is best.

There's no improving on perfection, after all.

Do you really

I want you to

For God's sake, if you don't make good on your promises this time, I'll

19:00, then. I trust you know the address

Please try to be on time, 007.

For you, Q?

I'll be early.

[what-even-is-thiss]

What do you think would our world be like if Christianity hadn't been invented? I'm not trying to start an anti-christianity argument, I am just wondering... Because it transformed our world and our cultures so much. For example, no Christianity = no colonization as we know it, would we still believe in heathen / nature gods or would another religion colonize the planet? What would that look like? Would we even have racism? Since "race theory" was invented by white christian colonizers to "justify" slavery.

I do think that it’s possible colonization would’ve happened in one form or another. What it would’ve looked like, I’m not sure. But people often forget that cultures with religions other than Christianity have historically erased and conquered.

As a Christian I don’t excuse the sins of those who share my faith. Their forgiveness is up to their victims, themselves, and God. And I recognize that Christians as a whole have a tendency to ignore our bloody history. But I also don’t think the world would necessarily be that much better without it. Different? Absolutely. Better? How would we know that? It wasn’t the only or first major religion to spread like wildfire. It wasn’t the only or first religion to be used to justify atrocities. Look at historical examples in Communist countries. Atheism being used to erase people’s religions. Look at the history of Islam. One of Mohammad’s first big feats was launching a military campaign. Look at Ancient Rome. Even though they let people keep their gods they still plugged their own gods in where they didn’t fit, used them to justify horrible atrocities, and severely discriminated against Jewish people.

People in power just want an excuse to justify their actions. Religion or lack thereof makes for a convenient excuse whether we like it or not. Without Christianity the world would still have power-hungry people looking to force their will on others and they’d find an excuse. Possibly in some other religion, possibly in something else. But Christianity became a world religion so long ago that I cannot tell you what I think would’ve happened exactly. If modern racism wasn’t invented something would still be contributing to discrimination.

Perhaps the cult of Isis would’ve taken over the world. It had some similar ideas to Christianity in some ways including a focus on love and a good afterlife for its followers and it was spreading a lot even though some tried to ban it. Maybe it was on its way to being the state religion before my guy Jesus showed up. And temples and shrines of Isis being erected in town squares would be the first step in colonizing an area.

Perhaps the Chinese would be the first to colonize the new world. Or the Arabs. If Islam existed in some form or another. Or even with their old gods. Perhaps the traders of west Africa or the Norse. If you ask me, someone at least was bound to make contact across the water one way or another and unfortunately bring diseases like smallpox and measles with them. What their response would’ve been, I’m not entirely sure. Humans are often xenophobic, but they are also often caring.

It’s taken centuries for the native populations of the Americas to return to their pre-Columbus numbers. Whether or not that recovery would’ve happened faster under different leadership, I’m unsure because as the different colonizers demonstrated over time, there’s many different ways to “deal” with native populations. The English preferred to drive them out, the Spanish attempted to absorb them through intermarriage, the French slowly encroached on their territory and disrupted and took over their economies. And later in Africa and Asia the goal by all was generally to use the land and it’s people as a resource rather than a place to live.

Colonization was an extreme example and expansion of pre-existing techniques and attitudes. There can be arguments made that something like colonization was inevitable eventually with expanding technology such as better ships and guns. There can also be arguments made that it wasn’t. That guns don’t promise colonization. Perhaps something akin to old empires would’ve happened instead. Which isn’t always much better but is more contained.

Whether or not Russia as it exists at the size it is today is also up for debate. Some would argue it’s inevitable. Someone setting up shop in that exact spot has several flat weak points of land easy to invade from so any empire in that spot would find that the only way to protect themselves would be to own all of the land surrounding them. Then again, perhaps nothing is inevitable and that patch of land would be conquered and reconquered switching hands forever.

Alternate history is almost pure speculation. It’s fiction. A popular genre of fiction. You can probably find a book out there telling a story about this if you like.

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

“(Don’t) Hurry Down The Chimney Tonight” - Dean x Reader

Rating Explicit

Dean x Reader

Tags: Christmas (Holiday) Smut, Red Ribbons, Candy Canes, Peppermint Sensations, Sleigh Bells, Sexy Santa References, Dean is Tied Up, Edging, Oral Sex, 69, Vaginal Sex, Reader is a Naughty Little Vixen, Dean deserves a proper (sexy) Christmas.

Word Count: 2700

Summary: Dean saved Reader from the supernatural on Christmas Eve years ago. Every Christmas since, she has always found a way to show her unending appreciation.

Notes: This smutty little fic is a holiday gift for @jessjad for the 2023 SPNFanFicPond Secret Santa Fic Exchange. I hope you enjoy the reader’s sexy times with Dean.

Big thanks to @sam-is-my-safeword and runawaydr3amer (AO3) for reading the first draft and helping with a great many awesome smut ideas. Additional thanks to runawaydr3amer, who also beta’d this fic and packaged it up nice and shiny. 

Merry holidays!

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo, and this part will fill my "Edging" square.

Resources:

Collage created in Canva

Pic found on Google (Fanpop)

Song Reference: Santa Baby by Joan Javits and Philip Springer (listen/watch this version sung by Eartha Kitt)

Dean sinks those pearly whites into the flesh of his bottom lip. His top lip pulls up and back into a painful sneer. The usual rosy, pillowy fullness of that mouth is instead taut, whitening under the capture. You laser focus onto the pointy canine denting into the mouth you have debated sitting on since you began this teasing challenge.

jingle

You finish fashioning a sweet little bow with the ribbon. It’s ruby red and velvety soft.

“Well, I think that’s about the prettiest package I ever did wrap.”

jingle

“What do you think, Mr. Claus?” you ask, your voice as innocent and demure as you can manage.

Dean opens his mouth and expels a slow gasp. jingle “Fuck, sweetheart. You aren’t playin’ fair.”

“That’s the whole point.”

You rise from the edge of the bed and take in the entire scene. It’s magnificent. 

He’s magnificent.

Dean is lying atop the forest green comforter of your bed. Naked. Well, not totally naked. A red ribbon - adorned with one single sleigh bell - binds his wrists together and anchors him to the headboard. His arms, jutting out and bent to create a diamond-shaped frame around his face, give you a prime ticket to the gun show. Biceps flex and tendons raise under the skin as he tries to remain as motionless as possible.

jingle

You aren’t a complete heathen. He’s got a fluffy pillow, the same deep green color as the comforter, to rest his head atop. Dean is anything but sleepy. He’s wound up. He stares back at you, the green of his irises electric and flaming with intensity.

You anticipate how sublime it will feel to strum the cords of his neck. Tickle your fingertips down that chest. You imagine Dean ring-a-ding-dinging and cursing himself if you take the time to trace the outline of his tattoo. Circle those perky nipples. Dip into his belly button and follow his treasure trail of baby-fine hair.

You marvel again at the other ribbon that you tied. You’d purchased a couple yards of red velvet at the craft store weeks ago with this in mind. With him in mind. You were ecstatic it had been enough to criss-cross around the crease below that fine ass. It wraps over a slight vee along his waist. The makeshift holiday jockstrap has Dean’s beautiful, now fully erect, cock sporting a bow.

Dean sighs. “Are you done decking my balls?” jingle

You giggle and fiddle with the belt of your robe. It’s red as well, but made of silk. “As we discussed, the end result of all of this is all up to you. Santa.” You flip a switch to turn off the ceiling light. The sconces stay on above the headboard. Two halos figure eight over Dean’s beautiful body, awash in a warm amber glow.

He’s a full print ad of holiday cheer and sinful debauchery.

“You’re being very naughty, (jingle) Mrs. Claus.” Dean licks his top lip—your core clenches at the deep timbre of his scolding. 

You’ve been wet since you both finished Christmas dinner. Since you told him you had one more gift for him waiting upstairs. Since you left him in the bedroom with orders to strip while you changed in the bathroom. Since you pulled out the ribbons. Since you explained that if he was good and could keep his jingling down to a minimum through what you had planned, you’d fuck him into the New Year.

You inhale and shrug, then begrudgingly turn your back to the sight. It takes a few taps on your phone for you to get to the song. You stifle another giggle at the little jingles Dean can’t help as he waits. 

Once you tap the play button, the festive and recognizable melody begins. A barbershop quartet bah-bums a bit before the sultry and smooth vocals of Eartha Kitt take the lead.

You look back over your shoulder at Dean and whisper along with Eartha.

You peel the silky robe off one shoulder then the other. Dean groans when the layer slips down to the floor. jingle

“Shit.” He moans and you grin in satisfaction at the hoped for reaction.

You turn back to face him, adding a dramatic hair flip. You're wearing a sexy little Mrs. Claus outfit. It’s a red velvet dress with a scandalously high skirt and a low-cut halter. White fur lines both the top and bottom. It’s all cinched nice and tight around your waist with a black belt and a gold buckle.

You bend at the knees and lean forward, shoulders folding in and hands resting on your thighs. It gives Dean the perfect vantage to ogle your cleavage. You purr along with the next line and modify the lyrics a smidge.

“Man, I must have been a really good boy this year.” Dean stares in awe, not even caring how much he’s jingling with his squirms atop the bed.

You let it slide for the time being, thrilled at the kid in a candy store grin plastered on his face and the way the bow sways with every twitch of his cock.  

Dean tilts his head to the side. His gaze begins at your red-glitter heels and canvases every inch of skin from ankles to thighs. He pauses, stopping to stare at the hint of flesh under the skirt hem. jin-jingle jingle jin-jingle He pants out, “Mrs. Claus forgot her panties, huh?”

You lift a finger and wiggle it back and forth in the air. “Uh-uh-uh. Remember, really good boys stay still if they want their present.���

The bell jangles no matter how carefully he attempts to reposition himself. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbles and you laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll be good,” he whispers soft and sweet.

The heels tap across the hardwood as you walk over to settle beside Dean. You adjust your skirt to let the scant amount of fabric fan over your naughty bits. Being so close to him makes you forget the lyrics to sing along with Eartha.

You rest a hand on his chest. Through clenched teeth, Dean inhales at the touch, the rest of him frozen in place. The bell is silent. Your other hand grabs one of the candy canes you had left on the bedside table. For reasons.

Watching him fight every urge he has to reach out and touch you is fascinating. And the power you have over him gives you a head rush. You continue the tease, twirling the candy between your fingers, then laving the cane’s hook with your mouth and tongue. Dean garners some pity from you as he whines, brows downturned, eyes attentive to your every swirl and suck. You swing the cane close to his mouth. “Wanna taste?”

He swallows. “Wanna taste you,” he states, the hint of hope escaping around the edges of a soft moan.

The thrill of his need quickens your pulse. No other man has loved and adored you as thoroughly and exuberantly as Dean Winchester. You nod. “You will. But, first,” you rub the wet-slick candy cane over his bottom lip, “show me what that mouth wants to do.”

“You know what this mouth can do,” he reminds with a little sass, letting the candy cane tap against his bottom teeth. 

But soon enough, he indulges you. He slips the hook between his lips. His tongue slides out under the curve of peppermint, lapping at the sticky sweet. Again and again. Your breath hitches into your open mouth as you watch, enthralled at the ministrations of that thick and powerful muscle. He sucks the confection in a little farther, pursing his lips. The sounds he’s making, enjoying the treat, are downright pornographic and send any extraneous bell ringing to the back of your hearing queue. The red food coloring coats them like lip gloss by the time you break from the spell of his show. You guess it’s been minutes since Eartha finished her rendition of ‘Santa, Baby.’ The rest of the playlist you created has soft and dreamy instrumentals.

“My turn,” you cajole. You tug on the cane. He relinquishes, but not without some resistance. A little pop escapes his mouth once the hook is freed. You marvel at the progress he made. The hook end is substantially shorter and thinner than when he began.

He sniffs and tilts his chin up in pride. jingle “Your turn with that, or my turn with you?”

The cane slips back into your mouth, your fingers sticky from all the handling. You stand, kick off your heels, and climb back onto the bed on your knees. You grin as you suck on the candy.

His eyes soften. “Be careful, baby. Don’t want you to choke. Well, at least not on that.” He smirks.

He’s right. Safety first. You toss the candy onto the bedside table.

“You are so (jingle) fucking hot in that (jingle) outfit.” He grins and waggles eyebrows in anticipation. “Gonna let me down your chimney, Mrs. Claus?” jingle jingle jingle

The actions in the next few seconds are a blur. You wonder if Dean has some sort of Jedi mind control ability. Because even though you are supposed to be the one making decisions this evening, his seductively god-awful puns find you sitting on his face, reverse cowgirl. 

“You might get the golden ticket to all my secret places if you’re lucky.” Your fingers tip-toe down his chest like a grinch about to steal someone else’s presents. 

jingle jingle jingle

“Fuckin’ hell,” Dean murmurs under your skirt. Hot breath bathes your inner thighs and other areas you hope will soon be explored.

Your hands rest in the little divots created by his pelvic bones while you take his body in and plan your method of attack. You pull on the ribbon and release his cock of the bow. Then, you’re deep throating him like he’s your last meal.

Not one to be outdone at an all-you-can-eat buffet, Dean’s entire face gets in on the feast as well. Nerves respond to the tingling sensation of the residual peppermint on Dean’s lips and tongue. You shiver at the gloriously heightened sensitivity when he pulls back to blow on your pussy. “This is so much better than milk and cookies.” He moans and groans and jingles all the way. 

As much as you’re loving the taste of his precome, the velvet texture against your tongue, and the way the tip triggers a tiny gag reflex at the base of your throat, it’s time to remind him of the consequences of all that noise he’s making. You release the hard length from your mouth and try to concentrate on your own breathing during the absolute virtuoso way he’s eating you out. As much as you’d love his fingers to get in on the action, you know you’d have no control over the situation. You sigh in relief that he’s trying to adhere to some parts of the game. The pitiful, half-hearted ribbon shackling of his hands to the headboard is no match for Dean Winchester.

You steady yourself on wobbly knees and one shaky elbow. A firm grip around the base of his cock makes Dean gasp. He stills after that. In your mind’s eye, you picture the beauty of that mouth and how his luscious pink lips were slick with peppermint. You imagine how slick they are with you now. “Sorry, baby,” he murmurs and you feel him settle back onto the pillow. “I’ll be as quiet as I can. Can you blame me, though? Here I am, under your sweet little skirt, in the dark (jingle)... shit, sorry. But, you can’t drop a five-course meal in front of a starving (jingle) man and not expect him to wanna little taste.”

You squeeze his cock. “That’s part of the challenge.”

“I’m always up for a challenge. You always make me feel so good.”

You groan at the praise he bestows. Without releasing your hold, you shimmy off his chest. Channeling the prim and delicate sensibilities of Mrs. Claus, you crawl along the comforter and settle between nutcracker bow legs. With knees tucked under you and sat atop bare feet you accept him in your mouth again and get to work. 

You take in the sight of Dean inventorying your every action. He’s gripping the top of the headboard with both hands to steady his upper body. You clock that the little stinker has also managed to palm the sleigh ball in an effort to silence or, at the very least, muffle it. You consider that move cheating. But he feels so sublime that you can’t bear to part with him to voice your irritation. He’s also whispering the sweetest filth to you while he watches.

“Damn. Yeah. Those lips of yours feel so good around my cock. You take it so good, baby. Wish I could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, but I’d definitely jingle-jangle way too much.” A tongue swipe over his top lip accentuates the glossy look of his ruby-tinted mouth in the warm light. “You really are too good to me. You give the best Christmas presents.” He stiffens further with each downstroke. “Aw, yeah. Suck it.” Your rhythm increases. “So pretty. Wanna touch you so bad.” He gasps. “Fuck, I’m gettin’ close.” jingle jingle   

You clamp around the base again and squeeze, freeze mid-swallow - your lips around the tip - as soon as he rings.

Dean squirms and grumbles.

You continue to bring him to the edge of orgasm, then halt. Your jaw is aching along with the rest of your body as time passes.

You’ve fucked Dean up in the best way possible. He’s blissed out, wound up tighter than a spring. You’ve got him begging. But his words grow into admonishments with each successive denial. “You can’t keep doing this, baby. There’s gonna be consequences. Santa’s gonna for real put you on his naughty list. Nothing but coal in your stocking,” he huffs.

You give your mouth a reprieve and stroke him. “Is that all that happens to naughty girls?”

He gnaws at his bottom lip before offering, “You really wanna find out?”

You nod.

The ribbon binding Dean to the headboard shreds with one mighty tug. He pitches the sleigh bell in the air. It jingles as it pinballs around the room. 

You gasp as he cinches those hands under your armpits and drags you up his body. He crushes his lips into yours, tastes you with his tongue. The mixture of your arousal and a hint of peppermint melts you in his arms. Then, a sudden and swift rollover pins you beneath him.

He hovers, tosses your skirt up to your chest, and wedges between your legs. His hard, heavy cock slips into your folds and glides through your wetness. “I could drag this out. Or.” It’s his turn to tease. He notches snug against your entrance. You’re surprised your muscles haven’t pulled him into you of their own accord the way your entire body spasms with need. He whispers in your ear, “Let me be your Santa, baby.”

You gasp, “And hurry down the chimney tonight.”

He groans in victory and slides in, balls deep. He thrusts. One massive hand gathers your wrists together on the pillow above your head to anchor you in place. Fingers of his other hand grip the top of the headboard. Every sway in and out of you gets more frenetic. You’re screaming his name and he’s cursing yours. 

“Good girls do what they’re told,” he states, out of breath, face reddening. His gaze locks with yours. He slows down. Releases your hands. Finds your clit amid the white fur and red velvet. Strums. Angles and hits your sweet spot deep within you with a harsh abandon. “Come.”

Minutes later, after you’ve both orgasmed, you’re curled into his chest. “That was…” you manage between heavy exhales.

“Yeah, that was awesome.” He kisses your forehead. “Every year, since I saved you from that ghost on Christmas Eve, you find a way to outdo yourself with the holiday cheer.”

“Well, you deserve it. I’m glad you can get away for a little while and get a special treat.”

He sighs. “You know, you don’t have to feel obligated to…”

You rest a finger atop his lips. “How I see it. Guy saves your life one time, you owe him the rest of yours.”

He smiles and pulls you in. “How about we just focus on tonight, yeah?”

You nod. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

[blackzer0]

Seven SINS of ALASTOR

Read more below!

PRIDE: Violet is a rare color in nature. In history it was very expensive and just for the royalty. Alastor look is - of course - inspred by our all King Lucifer Morningstar!

WRATH: Red is a strong color for strong emotions. It's very eye-catching and of because of this used for warning signs. Beware the Radio Demon! I thought a lether biker suit would look good at him.

GLUTTONY: Orange is a color of joy and the sin of gluttony includes all parts of excessive lifestyle. Because Alastor is known as a canibal I gave him a bloody chef suit.

GREED: Green is usually a positive color, in particular the color of nature. The nature is rich of resources and greedy ones claim all this richness for their own. Alastor wears some kind of business style. Well, he's a deal maker!

LUST: The color of lust is discribed differently in different sources. Mostly it's described as red, but also yellow is known as the color of prostitudes. In history they had to wear a yellow belt, so everybody would know in which business they work. While I used red allready for wrath, I went with pink, which is often used as the color of love. Dod you notice the heart shaped ear tips?

ENVY: When someone falls for this sin, you say they turn yellow with envy. Sometimes green is used instead, but in the origin it's yellow. Why someone gets yellow, I couldn't find out. I made Alastors clothes nothing special, so he has more reasons to get envy and jealous.

SLOTH: There's no special color for this sin, but gray and brown is often used, because these are no bright colors, not eye-catching, just boring. I gave Alastor a hoody and sweat pants for a lazy day on the sofa.

I hope you enjoyed this lil color education my deer heathens! Have fun with your favorite sins! ❤️

[unsoundedcomic]

So the third panel of ch 18 p131 - is this the first time Duane has seen Bastion’s face, even through Lem’s memory?

No, Duane had seen Bastion at the Temple for little while; snatches of him conferring with other officials and with Shadwe himself. The official line was Bastion was known to be administering to Ssaelit patients in Fachlyne - where the plague is quarantined these days - and Shadwe wanted to know the best kind of help and resources the Temple could send. Tired of dealing with VITS bureaucracy, he sent for the infamous Black Tongue doctor to ask him first-hand.

This was a contentious move, as the Black Tongues are despicable heathens best arrested on sight. But it was also a contentious move to make a Soud printer's son a Motadwe, then recommend him as a Composer. That's just how Shadwe Grandvin do. He's a good man. Duane would have given him a kidney.

[devouredbyflame]

Loki’s Faces

I get that this is mostly considered “UPG” however, I didn’t really create all of this inside of my own head so it’s not personal. It is observed behavior from Loki during my years of time working closely with Him and in relation to others.

I don’t think any resource ever has done Him any justice and I think it’s the best practice to just not assume anything people write about Him here or otherwise is factual or evidence of His character.

Loki is controversial - but only because you cannot place Him under one single signifier. He is accessible but not because He is interested in being everyone’s friend - in fact, I’ve never really known Him to tolerate just anyone and He actively doesn’t.

The standards He has for those - humans as well as Gods - who He allows to see His true face are high.

Those who are just around for show tend to not see the entirety of who He is and instead see what He isn’t. He wears different masks for different reasons and not because He is them - they are apart of Him, but they do not define Him.

Most people will likely never see the fullest extent of Loki if only because they can’t or don’t want to. So much mixed information goes around in His community because people don’t often see who He is beneath all of the grandiosity and playfulness.

Otherwise, He is extremely private and keeps to Himself most of the time. You’ll find He doesn’t share information about Him to just anyone. He also doesn’t go out of His way to show just Himself to people, either.

It’s intentional that not everyone gets to see His truest form or nature. It would be like showing everyone your hand in poker. When all of the cards are thrown, you have the power to be defeated. Loki uses His secrecy to His advantage and tends to only show people what they want to see because it’s easier than giving them the benefit to having any sort of power over His moves in the game.

The point of this is to say most people don’t really know Loki. When I say “most” I’m not talking about only a select group of people do know Him, I mean mostly, people don’t know that He isn’t obvious about His most truthful intentions, personality, and otherwise unless He chooses to be.

I’ve been led down false paths by Him that lead to dead ends for years. I’ve been told false things that I really only told myself were true that He let me believe because it suited what He wanted from me.

I stayed in groups I thought were good for me because I thought that’s what He wanted for me. I stayed with people because I thought He wanted me to stay with them because He wanted me to power through difficult things.

In reality, Loki is an extremely discerning and opinionated Deity and would sooner have told me what He really wanted for me had it not also developed who I am as an individual and given me the power of discerning Him from my own false narrative and belief about Him. He has let me fail and believe false things about Him and others so I can get to the truth of the nature of my relationship with Him and also the truth of the people around me.

Loki is a trickster. Not because He lies or tells people false things, or because He’s full of jokes and games or leads them into chaos but He let’s them believe things that are false to show otherwise. He shows people some of who He is if it suits the way He intends on it going. He doesn’t show anyone the cards in His hand unless He knows it’ll be kept secret and hidden or if it suits His intention.

The best thing you can possibly do with Loki is to allow Him to show you Himself. Allow yourself to be part of the game and allow yourself to be shown the truth. You’re going to fail in front of Him and it will probably be miserable, but that’s part of the strategy. You’re also going to be proven wrong many times.

He will let you go in circles until He can convince you what He wants you to do. He will let you believe things about Him or others even when it hurts your feelings. He won’t try to convince you unless you’re willing to listen and give it the benefit of the doubt.

If things haven’t changed for you, if you keep having the same issue again and again, it’s probably because there’s more to it than whatever you think He is trying to say.

People who don’t like Loki or get uncomfortable by Him only tend to do so because they don’t like what they see in themselves because of Him. They don’t actually know who He is. And they likely won’t.

Trust is a reward for the failure. Trust in Him and trust in yourself because it is not handed to you willingly. If you can’t listen to your inner guidance, you’ll never really know the truth anyway and you’ll never fully listen, either. The reward is always greater than the cost in the end. Loki is generous to those who wander and those who are willing to get lost along the way.

[grimnirs-child]

New post on my longform blog -- I discuss the Goddess Saga, Her attestations, and my personal experiences and associations with Her. I also offer some Old English epithets I use for Her and a short poem/prayer.

This is part of a wider project I've been working on covering the twelve Goddesses sometimes called Frigga's Handmaidens -- when I've got a mo I'll knock together a masterpost for here with all the links so far. The Twelve are often considered "minor" Gods because They have so few attestations, but They are all incredibly near and dear to my heart and I wanted to share why.

[taffywabbit]

I touched on this during a stream last night but like. the thing that's probably really confusing about Mormonism is, if it's so wildly restrictive and puritanical and alienating, why do people actually want to JOIN the religion and claim to like it and feel that it improves their quality of life?

I've talked at length before about how, like any good cult organization, the church weaponizes rejection from outsiders and a deliberate sense of self-perpetuated othering to keep people trapped in the organization and feeling like they can't trust "the world" - they're only safe and understood and accepted within the confines of this very specific and unattractive in-group who have all been messed up in the same ways they are.

but like, as much as the statistics show that Mormons don't actually get many new converts for the amount of money and resources they spend on missionary efforts (and thus have to focus on long-term retention through the above methods, and also compelling their members to have a dozen kids who will grow up Mormon, in order to grow/maintain the church's numbers), some outsiders DO join, and some members who are more resistant to the feelings of isolation DO remain in the church out of a sincere belief that it makes them happier and more fulfilled. so like, what's up with THOSE people? how do they convince themselves this horrible restrictive lifestyle that cuts them off emotionally from the rest of society is what they actually want?

well, I'm sure there are a lot of deeper psychological factors that vary between individuals, but if you think about good old-fashioned Puritans and why THEY were so focused on the constant denial of basic earthly pleasures, you can get a little insight into this. from what I've figured out in the years since I left, a lot of this religion's supposed emotional benefits boil down to moral relativism.

most people want to feel like they're a good person, and some people have a really hard time feeling like they're a good person unless they have someone who is "worse" than them to compare themselves to. a lot of Christianity in general runs on this - the more evangelical or puritanical a sect is, the more you hear them speaking dismissively of outsiders and nonbelievers and heathens, and sometimes even talking about "purity" (ew). Granny Baker down the street could be the sweetest kindest old lady who volunteers at the food bank every Tuesday, but if she's not an avid churchgoer, especially in your particular chosen denomination, then she's still inferior to you in some meaningless intangible way and you get to feel like you're special for doing nothing. that's pretty much it! Christianity for a lot of people is just about getting to feel better about yourself without needing to improve in any actual substantial ways. you read your special book, say your prayers, sit in a church for an hour every week, never ever think any gay thoughts, and boom! you're "righteous" and god loves you, so who cares if Granny Baker thinks you're kind of a judgy asshole.

Mormons, though, take this to the next level. it's ALL about moral escalation, baby. it's not good enough to just do the basic Christian stuff - you need to prove you've joined GOD'S ONE TRUE RELIGION by being even more holy and special than any other Christians, too! they think drinking is frowned upon? well not only do Mormons NEVER drink or smoke or do drugs, they don't drink coffee or tea either! regular Christians go to church for an hour every Sunday? Mormons go for 2-3 hours, plus potentially some extra meetings if they have additional responsibilities in some kind of council or whatever, PLUS all kinds of other shit during the week to make sure they're in the church as often as possible. PLUS adult Mormons are supposed to attend several-hour ordinance sessions at a temple (those bigger fancier pointier churches that nonmembers can't enter, where all the REALLY cult-y looking stuff goes on) as frequently as they're able. regular Christians (if they're kinda old-fashioned) try not to work on Sundays? Mormons aren't supposed to do ANYTHING on Sundays besides church stuff. don't buy things, don't do schoolwork, don't go to the movies, don't listen to music that's "irreverent", etc etc... at EVERY level of this lifestyle your priority is to make sure you're extra special and holy and living a more devoted life than anyone else so you never have to question if they're more kind or benevolent or accepting or, y'know, actually Christlike than you. you follow all your little arbitrary extra rules and thus win a game that nobody else is playing.

something especially funny that non-Mormons may notice is that SOME Mormons take it EVEN FURTHER, too. not content to just do the bare minimum as set forth by the church's many councils of wrinkly businessmen in Utah, they make up ADDITIONAL personal rules for their family to live by, so they can be extra sure they never step anywhere CLOSE to being morally inferior to anyone. this is why you may have met Mormons who also say they don't drink cola or caffeinated soda or any soda at all, or who don't play video games on Sundays, or who not only don't swear but don't even say substitutes like "crap" and "dang it" and "freaking". (hey guess what! I was all of these at one point! my parents gave up on that last one after a while tho lol.)

they'll often tell you these extra house rules are part of their religion too, even though they're technically not in the books anywhere... and in a way they're not wrong, because that IS largely what Mormonism is about on a cultural level. you don't have to care about being homophobic or racist or uncharitable or various other things that come with essentially just being a Utah Republican But As A Religion, because every week you get to go to a place that praises and affirms you for being better and smarter than everyone else by following all the special little secret arbitrary rules that make you Morally Invincible and immune to anyone else's judgment.

so how does this tie into why people find the church interesting and want to join/stay? well of course, a desire to always win your internal comparisons against others goes hand-in-hand with a desire to be privy to secrets and tricks and obscure knowledge that others aren't. it's not just that Mormon beliefs can make you feel righteous - they ALSO make you feel smarter than all the other dumbasses out there who couldn't figure out that literally all you need to do to be happy is Stop Drinking Coffee and also Give 10% Of Your Income To An Organization With A $100 Billion Stock Portfolio. they entice you with the promise of teaching you stuff that everyone else is apparently just too dense to comprehend, and make you feel clever and special for recognizing the Truth. it's not just a social in-group you're being invited into, it's an EXCLUSIVE CLUB full of SECRET KNOWLEDGE with HIGH STANDARDS and only SMART COOL PEOPLE get to join! if you're going through some rough times or your self-esteem is low or you feel vaguely guilty about your life and don't know how to feel better, you are a lot more likely to be ensnared by what they promise you. (trust me! when I was a missionary they literally trained us to ask questions that would help us efficiently target those people!) and then before you know it, you're isolated inside that ecosystem, normal people find you intimidating and weird, it's hard to get back out, and the church won't leave you alone if you do. oops! aren't cults fun?

[ladyinred2248]

Praise Them (Finan x Aelswith x Sihtric) Part 1

Summary: The Lady Aelswith spends time with Finan and Sihtric. Part 1 of 2. (A continuation/ same era of my Beltane fics)

Warnings: Mature. MINORS DNI.

Lady Aelswith dreaded the moments that the Lord Uhtred was near. Not only did he not appreciate the King nor her own authority, he strutted around like he was God’s own gift to women and to Wessex alike. He was a heathen for God’s sake! Her husband unrightfully trusted the man with his fyrds, his resources, his men — Dear God, there would be no end to the madness.

Every night Aelswith sat at the altar, praying for guidance and strength — not only for herself, but for her husband, who could do no wrong in her eyes. Well, perhaps Alfred wasn’t perfect; maybe she resented the Lord Uhtred for additional reasons. For she knew that Alfred held certain secret affections for him. Though the act had not been done, she knew that Uhtred’s spell would be cast upon Alfred eventually, in a sexual manner, the heathen that he was. Even though she had given Alfred permission to indulge in his own desires, she would often cringe at the thought. Regardless, the idea of sexual liberation actually sent a deep warmth cascading through her body that she had been desperately trying to suppress. The thought of Alfred and the Lord Uhtred sharing intimacy was one that sparked a sense of longing on her own accord for something more. Perhaps she had been too uptight, the many obligations of her royal title weighing her down.

Aelswith received word by her many spies in the region that the heathens had recently participated in solstice rituals — sex rituals, at Uhtred’s Coccham estate. Of course they would, she thought, the heathens they were. But according to the Queen’s spies, good Christian men — Finan the Agile, no less — indulged themselves during these rituals as well. That thought alone piqued her curiosity. Her mind drifted to the women on the receiving end, and suddenly she bit her lip as a rather rebellious thought came to her mind.

The next morning, Lord Uhtred and his men inevitably came barraging through her hall as they usually did, strutting towards her with their hands on their swords and furrowed brows. Alfred suddenly held a shadow of a smile on his face when he locked eyes with the Danish Lord. Lord Uhtred and the King had been on good terms as of late and they seemed almost beaming toward one another this day, having not seen each other in some time. Aelswith let her mind wander as she had the night prior, looking to Uhtred’s men in a new light. Rituals? Hm.

She couldn’t stop herself from gazing at Finan’s bare arms as he stood before her. Porcelain skin mulled over with scars, large biceps flexed even in a relaxed position. Aelswith rubbed her lips together in an effort to close her gaping mouth, trying to steer away her gaze but not quickly enough it seemed. The Irishman’s eyes met hers, and with a soft gaze Finan gave her a nod and a smile, his dark eyes piercing straight through her body. She felt her thighs quiver as he held her eye contact excruciatingly long, until Aelswith simply smiled and looked down. Was he… gazing at me? Oh dear heavens.

Suddenly, Alfred’s voice brought her out of the trance.

“My dear, the Lord Uhtred and I have a private matter to discuss. The one that we talked about. Do you approve of this?”

Aelswith was suddenly startled by his voice, looking to Uhtred, then back to Alfred. “Yes, my Lord. Lord Uhtred’s men can be put to work in the meantime.”

“What?” Finan gasped, Sihtric hitting his arm to shush him.

Finan and Sihtric shared a curious glance at each other laced with contempt. Sihtric rolled his eyes. Of course they would be stuck fulfilling the Queen’s orders.

Aelswith knew what the King was implying. But somehow, she didn’t care anymore. Not after accepting his affection for the Danish Lord, nor after gazing at the handsome Irishman and opening her mind to the naughtiest of occasions. Even the young Dane next to him looked enticing, dangerously so. Tattoos evident on his olive skin, his strong hand wrapped around the seax on his belt. His mesmerizing eyes and strong build was enough to have any woman turn her head. She was almost entirely sure he knew what to do with those strong hands.

With a small nod to the others, Alfred led Uhtred down the corridor, and Aelswith was left seated at her throne with Uhtred’s men standing before her, tall and powerful as ever. She knew that they didn’t feel quite relaxed around her, the impressions she had made previously keeping them on their toes.

“Uh, Finan,” Aelswith spoke up, withholding her authority, “You and your… friend, will escort me to the gardens.”

“I am Sihtric, Lady.” Sihtric gave her a smirk, his eyebrows raised.

“Yes, that’s right… uh, Sihtric. Forgive me.”

Finan smirked as he came closer and held out his arm to her, and with shaking breaths and a flush to her cheeks, Aelswith took his large arm with her delicate hand. They were then headed towards the gardens.

Finan and Sihtric tried to lighten the queen’s mood by telling subtle jokes, not too forward of course for fear of offending her. Eventually a servant girl brought them all some wine, and Aelswith’s demeanor seemed to lighten up a bit as the men sat on either side of her and entertained her with their stories. Finan felt that her laugh was simply adorable.

“I simply cannot believe that you two are still alive,” Aelswith chuckled, placing her hand on Sihtric’s shoulder without a second thought in her inebriated haze. “I am… grateful, for your service to the King.”

“You are most welcome,” Sihtric whispered, “and the King is grateful to have you as his wife, yes?”

“Well, anyone would be, I suppose.”

The boys raised their eyebrows in shock at her bold response, and Sihtric couldn’t help the laugh that exploded from him.

“Yes, lady.” Sihtric said, smiling at her. “They would.”

Finan was feeling bold in his own right now, Aelswith’s fierce energy enabling his own.

“Lady,” Finan rasped, “Ya might have a wilder side than I once thought, eh? Tell me — do you ever let your hair down?” He stroked her braid quite firmly with his fingers, causing a shudder to run down her body before she slapped his hand away with a chuckle. His large hand then traced down her back, coming down to caress the spot just above her buttocks. The wine was giving Finan a certain boisterous courage as it usually did, and witnessing Aelswith’s fair features up close combined with her fiery nature was rushing blood straight to his cock.

“May I?” Sihtric whispered before unclasping her braids one by one, not waiting for her to respond before undoing them softly with his fingers, his face close enough for his breath to fan her cheeks.

Just this simple touch of the young Dane was enough to light Aelswith ablaze, feeling the wetness rush to her core as it began to throb. The wine made her head fuzzy, but it was the attentions of the men that made her body suddenly run hot, the liquid courage in her veins making her lock eyes with Sihtric as he looked at her like a man starving. She leaned her body back then, spreading her legs slightly as she felt Finan’s calloused hand run under her dress and up her thigh to fondle her bare skin. On her other side, Sihtric brought his lips to her neck softly before sucking and biting at the tender skin, his tongue grazing her jawline as she tilted her head with a moan.

Finan’s hand was slowly coming higher up her thigh, stroking firmly as he brought his lips to her ear. “Such a pretty little thing. Why don’t ya let us worship ya, my Queen … I promise you a world of pleasure.”

Aelswith whimpered in response, Sihtric’s fingers now entangling slowly in the laces of her dress at her bosom as Finan’s fingers came to her core, rubbing her sensitive bud slowly.

“Y-yes, I…” she whimpered as Finan’s fingers started to stroke through her wet core now, not yet penetrating, as she rocked her hips instinctively into them as she sought him to enter her.

Sihtric’s hand came into the bosom of her dress, grabbing her breast tenderly and rolling her nipple in between his fingers before rasping his lips against her ear, whispering softly yet demanding. “Show us your quarters, Lady. Take us there.”

Regardless of Aelswith’s better judgment, she took the two men to her private chamber, giggling the whole way while in between Finan and Sihtric, her arms entangled with each of theirs. The men walked in and immediately made themselves at home; Finan sprawled out on a fancy sofa while Sihtric looked at all of Aelswith’s belongings, picking them up and setting them down with care.

Aelswith just gazed at them for a moment, running her fingers through the laces of her dress as her heart was thundering in her ears. Sihtric came to her then, bringing his hand to cup her cheek.

“Lady,” the young Dane said, “You want us to please you, yes? If not, you can tell us... I swear it.”

Aelswith bit her lip, looking intently into Sihtric’s mismatched eyes as he smiled at her before looking over to Finan, who looked very relaxed and sprawled out on her sofa. Finan caught her eye and gave Aelswith a sensual wink.

She turned back to Sihtric, giving him her best bedroom eyes. “I would like the two of you to stay.”

Sihtric hummed, stepping closer to her before licking his lips. “It would be our pleasure.”

Sihtric brought his fingers to the already loose laces of Aelswith’s dress, untwining them before slowly brushing the dress off of her shoulders. It fell to the ground swiftly, and before she knew it, she was thrust into Sihtric’s body with a pull of his arm around her waist, and his lips met hers in a desperate act of his desire.

“Hey,” Finan groaned with a hint of jealousy, “Lady, I’ve been waitin’ for ya. Have ya forgotten?”

Aelswith pulled away from Sihtric’s kiss, catching her breath as the Irishman stalked behind her and wrapped his hands around her hips. “Never,” she whispered.

The next moments were filled with intensity as Sihtric took the opportunity to rid himself of his armor while Finan’s hands traveled up to caress the Queen’s breasts. She effortlessly relaxed into him for a moment as he caressed her, but her patience was running thin as her desperation hit its peak. She turned to Finan, unbuckling his cuirass, shoving away any bit of armor she could as quickly as possible. He let out a deep chuckle, biting his lip when her hands came to the laces of his trousers. Within moments the Irishman was as bare as she was, and the skin to skin feeling as he pulled her into his body was sending pulses of fire through her veins. He picked her up then, her legs wrapped around Finan’s waist as he led her to the nearby bed, setting her on top of it gently and holding his body over her as he captured her in a devouring kiss.

Sihtric stalked towards them, enjoying the sight of Aelswith’s fair and flushed skin as the Irishman dominated her. He sat next to them, taking his hand to cup her cheek before running his thumb over her bottom lip as Finan started to kiss his way down her body.

“My Lady,” Sihtric said, “You are such a good girl for us. Are you ready?”

Aelswith bit her lip, looking back to Finan’s dark gaze.

“Answer him,” Finan demanded.

“Yes! Yes.. I—I’m ready.”

“Oh,” Sihtric cooed. “I’m not so sure.” He winked at Finan, who gave him a smirk.

Aelswith bit her lip. “I am!” She said with a hint of frustration.

“What was that, your Grace?” Sihtric replied as he took his tongue to the hardened peak of her breast. “I can’t hear you.”

“I need you, n-need you both!”

Finan chuckled then, coming up again to give Aelswith a deep kiss, his dark eyes burning into hers.

Finan moved his body away suddenly and Aelswith whimpered at the loss. Within seconds she felt the Irishman’s breath rasp across her core just before feeling his hot, wet tongue on her center. She moaned at the tense, sensitive feeling of pleasure as Sihtric captured her lips with his, caressing her breast with his strong hand.

Before she knew it, the Irishman’s tantalizing ministrations had quickened her breath and brought a deep warm flush across her chest. Sihtric cradled her upper body as he sat behind her, caressing her porcelain skin with his fingertips and peppering kisses on her neck every so often. The queen could no longer hold in her moans of pleasure when she felt Finan plunge two fingers into her core, curling them so delicately and expertly against her front wall. The sensation made her squirm in Sihtric’s arms, so the young Dane took it upon himself to tighten his grip on her, chuckling as he rasped his lips against her ear.

“Such a good girl. Are you going to cum for us?”

Aelswith whimpered, biting her lip as her body was pulsing with pleasure. Her toes curled, so close to reaching her peak as a deep brogue spoke to her from below.

“Answer him,” Finan was looking up at her with his dark bedroom eyes, but after a moment his gaze softened, and he gave the queen a wink.

“Yes, I…”

Finan let out a pleasured groan. “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

Aelswith smiled at the Irishman before leaning back into Sihtric, pleasantly drifting back into the throes of pleasure as Finan expertly quickened the pace of his fingers, listening to every pleasured moan intently and gauging the queen's reactions until she was squirming in their arms again, moaning relentlessly.

“Let it go for me,” Finan rasped, “Yes, that’s a good girl.”

Sihtric held his bruising grip onto Aelswith as she hit her peak, her fingernails digging into Sihtric’s skin and provoking the utmost attention of the men as she experienced a soul shattering climax.

Taglist: @gemini-mama @persephones-journey @whitedarkmoonflower @alexagirlie @justanother-sihtricgirlie @bcon24 @ficnation

[skaldish]

I got a folkist arguing with me that loki is only a bad god. Do you have any resources to prove he's been helpful?

Also how does Norse heathenry not have orthodoxy or orthopraxy?

That's entirely predicated on whether the folkist would accept any proof you give them. And in my experience, they don't, because that would require them to change their worldview, and their purpose of arguing with you is to reinforce what they already believe in.

You are simply a prop in the story they're telling themselves. I recommend blocking and moving on.

As for your second question: Norse Heathenry has no orthopraxy or orthodoxy because it never developed any.

A religion develops doctrines when its parent society develops centralized agricultural practices, which allows for a more effective division of labor. This allows for the development of an intellectual class, and praxis would develop as a byproduct of continued philosophical discussion. This is also when a religion starts addressing questions of transcendence (afterlife, greater design, nature of the soul, etc) in earnest.

But Northern Europe was late to the Iron Age and didn't see this development until after the Christian conversion, so the Heathen praxis everyone keeps digging around for can't be found because never existed in the first place.

We also can't retroactively conclude what may have emerged if Christianity hadn't been introduced. The only thing we can do is pick up where it left off and let it develop organically as it always has.