#scottish covenant

[scotianostra]

February 28th 1638 the signing of the Second Covenant began in Greyfriars Churchyard.

Upwards of 60,000 people had gathered in the city for the event. Its architects were Alexander Henderson and Archibald Johnston of Warriston. Warriston read the Covenant and a prayer was offered by Henderson, thereafter the Earl of Sutherland stepped forward and began the signing “amidst great emotion.”

They agreed to renew the 1581 King’s Confession with two extra sections. (The King’s Confession was a covenant signed by the King and people across Scotland in 1581. It was made because people were worried about Roman Catholic influences on the young King James VI.  In it, the people promised before God that they would accept the true religion and oppose Roman Catholicism. It ended with a promise to defend the king, the gospel, and the country.) The two extra sections were a legal section written by Archibald Johnston of Warriston which listed over sixty acts of Parliament which supported the Presbyterian cause and a practical application written by Alexander Henderson.

The National Covenant pledged those who swore it to defend their “true religion” against innovations, such as those that had recently been introduced, that were against the Bible, the teachings of the Reformers, and the acts of Parliament listed – and which would lead to Roman Catholicism. This desire of the Covenant was to maintain ‘the true worship of God, the majesty of our King, and the peace of the kingdom’, for the happiness of those who swore it and their children. They also promised to live lives that showed they were in covenant with God and to be good examples to others.

This was a mighty move forward in the Reformation in Scotland. Copies were drawn up and sent all over the kingdom that many would have the opportunity of signing. So serious was the move that many Covenanters signed in their own blood and wore red pieces of cloth around their necks as distinctive insignia, this is said to be the origins of the term Rednecks, used extensively in the US  nowadays.

“Some wept aloud; some burst into a shout of exultation; some, after their names, added the words ‘unto death’; and some opening a vein, subscribed with their own warm blood.”

One minister said, I have seen more than a thousand at once lifting up their hands and tears falling from their eyes, entering into covenant.”

By the end of May the western highlands, Aberdeenshire and Banff were the only places the Covenant had not been widely accepted, with resistance in these areas being led by George Gordon, the Marquess of Huntly

The second covenant led to open rebellion against Charles.  This would be confirmed when they seized strongholds and began to raise forces. The king responded by hastily gathering his forces and marching on Scotland in 1639, starting the First Bishops War. By 1643 the Scots reached an agreement with the English and entered their Civil war, ultimately turning the tide against the Royalists.

Nowadays we’re not so serious about our religion, in fact during the last census in 2011 the largest demo graph were “Not Religious at 36.7% followed by Church of Scotland at  32.4%.

Pics are a painting of the signing in Greyfriars Kirkyard on this day in 1638 a copy of the Covenant and the flag they flew.

[the-busy-ghost]

Look I love a Spooky Edinburgh Moodboard as much as the next person but I do wonder whether the people who tag pictures of St Giles and the General Assembly Hall as "witchy” or dark academia aesthetic have any idea what they’re looking at

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hey Jude

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: based off of 12x11, but you lose your memory instead of Dean.

You cried out in pain and surprise as the witch blew a strange dark powder into your face and you staggered back into the wall.

“Hey!” Dean turned suddenly when he heard your distress, and he lifted his gun and fired off three rounds of witch-killing bullets into the woman that hurt his little sister.

“You ok?” Sam asked, helping you straighten up and glancing down at the witch to make sure she was dead.

“Fine.” You shook yourself and did a once over—no extra limbs, no pain, nothing. “I’m fine. The witch is dead, so whatever she threw at me won’t work.”

“We should get going,” Dean said. “If you’re sure you’re ok.”

“I’m sure.”

…

“This place isn’t half bad,” you spoke up as the Impala pulled into a motel. Your brows drew together in confusion as Dean pulled up in front of a room. “Don’t we need to check in?”

“We’ve…been here for two days,” Sam said, turning in his seat and frowning at you. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh…nothing,” you mumbled shyly, suddenly both confused and embarrassed. Why didn’t you remember? “Never mind.”

“I’m gonna give Rowena a call,” Sam said as the three of you entered your motel room. “She said there was a whole coven here, but we’ve only taken out two witches—maybe she can help us track down the rest.”

“Who?” You asked, trying to wrap your brain around the name, familiar yet somehow foreign—was it another hunter?

“Rowena…” Dean said, seemingly baffled by your question. “Red head witch? Irish, or Scottish, or whatever?” Dean goggled at you, but you just stared back blankly. “Seriously, are you joking?”

“No…” you were confused. Clearly your brothers couldn’t know this “Rowena” too well, otherwise you would remember her. So why did Dean care so much if you did? “Am I supposed to know her?”

“We saw her just last week,” Sam said, watching you carefully. “You know, Crowley’s mother?”

“Crowley?” This name felt more familiar to you, but still you couldn’t quite grasp it. “Crowley…” you mumbled again, as if repeating it would somehow bring a face to mind.

“Now I know you’re kidding,” Dean scoffed, although he didn’t look convinced.

“I don’t understand,” you said, looking from Sam to Dean and back again.

“You know Crowley,” Sam said. “You know Rowena, too. Why can’t—“ Sam’s eyes widened suddenly in horror. “That…that stuff the witch threw at you.”

“You mean Rowena?” You remembered that Sam—or was it Dean?—has just said that Rowena was a witch.

“What? No,” Dean said to you before turning to Sam. “What about it? You think maybe it messed with her memory? Made her forget about witches, or something?”

“That doesn’t explain why she forgot Crowley,” Sam countered. “Maybe it’s made her forget the supernatural world.”

“Supernatural,” you spoke up, desperate to prove that you hadn’t forgotten. “Like ghosts. We hunt ghosts. I haven’t forgotten, see?”

Dean’s brows crinkled in confusion.

“Then I don’t understand…”

“Let’s call Rowena,” Sam suggested. “She’ll know what this is.”

…

“Oh dear,” Rowena’s sigh of disappointment got the attention of the Winchester brothers; however, you were distracted playing with Dean’s gun on his bed.

“What is it?” Dean demanded.

“It’s definitely a memory spell.” Rowena sighed again. “This spell…it will make her memory fade piece by piece, until she can’t remember anything.”

“Anything?” Sam asked.

“Anything. Not you, not even herself. Soon enough she’ll forget how to eat, how to…how to breathe. And then…” Rowena let her voice trail off, her point having been made.

“Ok, then fix it,” Dean insisted.

“It’s not that simple. I need the grimoire—the spell book used to make that powder—if I’m going to be able to undo it.”

“And how are we supposed to find that?” Dean growled.

“It’ll be with the rest of the coven,” Rowena said confidently. “You said you only got two witches, right? A coven must be at least three. Any remaining will have the grimoire.”

“Is this thing loaded?” Dean whirled around to see you pointing his gun straight up at your own eye.

“Hey, hey!” He yelled, rushing to you and yanking the gun from your hands. “That is not a toy!”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your gaze going from Dean to Rowena. “You’re our witch friend, right?”

“I…suppose,” Rowena said slowly.

“Cool!” You exclaimed, jumping off Dean’s bed and going straight for Rowena’s bag. “Is this your witch bag? Do you have cool stuff in here?”

“Hey now!” Rowena grabbed your arms and pulled them out of her bag. “Stay out of that, you’ll set off a curse or something!” Rowena took one look at your pouting face and sighed, reaching into her bag. “Here,” she said, coming out with a voodoo doll. “Play with this.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt someone?” Dean spoke up.

“She’s fine,” Rowena insisted, waving her hand dismissively as you returned to Dean’s bed, examining the doll with a grin. “Now, we need to find that coven.”

…

“We can’t just leave her here alone,” Sam hissed as Dean packed his bag for the hunt.

“Well we’re not going to take her with us,” Dean countered.

“Are you going somewhere?” You spoke up suddenly.

“We’ve gotta take out that witch,” Dean said.

“What witch?” You asked. The brothers ignored you.

“Look, she’ll be fine for just a few hours,” Dean told Sam. “And when we’re back, Rowena can break the curse.”

“Whose curse?” You asked. “Are you cursed?”

“Alright. Let’s go.” Sam sighed.

He and Dean headed for the door, but both stopped when you grabbed onto Sam’s arm.

“We’ll be back soon,” he promised.

“Don’t,” you pleaded. “Please don’t. I’m—I’m forgetting everything…and I don’t want to forget you. If you go, I’ll forget.”

“Hey, that’s not gonna happen,” Dean spoke up. “We’re gonna break this curse, and you’ll be ok.”

You still looked scared and unconvinced, so Dean continued.

“I want you to do something for me. Just keep repeating the most important things to yourself—it’ll help.”

“Ok…” you said slowly, then froze as you wondered where to start.

“Start small,” Dean instructed.

“My…my name is Y/N.” You glanced at Dean, then Sam. “Sam and Dean are my brothers. Rowena…is our witch friend. Castiel is our angel friend. My dad is John Winchester.”

“You’re doing great,” Sam insisted. “If you keep doing that, you won’t forget us.”

You didn’t think that that was how the curse worked, but you couldn’t honestly remember. You would have to take De—no, Sam’s—word for it.

“Are you sure?” Your voice faded to a whisper as Sam and Dean walked out the door before you had even started the question. You took a deep breathe, steeling yourself. “Ok. My name…my name is Y/N Winchester…”

…

“Well that was a bust,” Dean groaned as he pulled the Impala back into the motel. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just head to the next possible location?”

“I want to check on her,” Sam insisted. “I don’t want her to be scared.”

Dean didn’t respond, he just parked the Impala and led the way into the room. The boys hadn’t taken two steps into the room before Sam caught sight of you ducking into the bathroom and slamming the door behind you.

“Y/N?” Dean called out. “Sweetheart, are you ok?”

Silence greeted his question.

“Y/N?” Sam knocked on the door. “Please answer me.”

“Go away!” Your voice was tight and squeaky, even through the door.

“Kiddo it’s us,” Sam assured you.

“How-how do you know my name?” There was more confusion in your voice than fear now.

“Y/N—“ Dean’s voice stuck, and he cleared his throat. “It’s us, it’s your brothers. You know us, remember?”

The lock clicked on the bathroom door, and Dean could see half of your face as you peered up at him. After a moment, you swung the door open all the way, but you remained in the doorway hesitantly.

“I know you,” you mumbled. Dean held his breath as you stared first at him, then Sam. “My…brothers…” you were rubbing your arm now, anxiously glancing at your brothers as you wracked your brain for more information. “You’re…you’re S-S…D…” you were breathing hard now, terrified that you couldn’t remember their names. “I-I know it, I know who you are, I know it!”

“Hey, it’s ok, it’s ok,” Sam soothed. “Do you want me to tell you?”

“No, no, I know it,” you insisted. “I know this, I-I have to know this.”

“It’s…it’s ok if you don’t remember,” Dean spoke up. “We’re here, we can help you.”

“No, it’s not ok!” Your outburst startled the boys, but they didn’t show it. “It’s not ok, I have to know this! You-you’re my big brothers, and I have to remember you!”

“Commere.” Sam couldn’t stand to see you start to cry, so he pulled you into his arms. “It’s gonna be ok…we’re going to fix this, we are.”

“I-I have to…I remember, I have to…” you were babbling almost incoherently. Sam looked at Dean over your shoulder, and they shared a moment of painful panic before Dean spoke.

“I’m gonna get us some food.” And he rushed out the door.

Sam stayed with you for several minutes before you slowly disentangled yourself from him.

“I can’t remember,” you whimpered.

“I…I know.” Sam sighed. He was about to speak again when he spotted the Impala out of the corner of his eye through the window—Dean was sitting inside, not moving; he hadn’t left. “Um…I’m gonna go talk to him.” Sam started for the door, but you stopped him.

“Let me,” you said. “I…I want to.”

So Sam stood back as you went to comfort your brother whose name you couldn’t remember.

…

He just needed a minute. He would go out, get food, come back, and be ready to help you again but he just needed a minute.

He turned on the radio, cursing himself for it a moment later when Hey Jude started playing. He reached up to turn it off—it was just too painful to hear this, your favorite song—but he stopped when your favorite part started playing.

“And any time you feel the pain,

Hey Jude, refrain

Don’t carry the world upon your shoulder.”

The words brought back a thousand memories, a thousand little moments between you and Dean that he knew he would remember forever. A few precious moments stood out above the rest—

…

“Hey little sister.” The first words Dean ever said to you. You were just a toddler, crying in the doorway of a filthy motel room while you watched your mother—some random hookup of John’s who’d gotten sick of taking care of a kid—drive away. She’d stayed long enough to hear that Dean was John’s son, then she’d snapped, “This is for him,” and shoved her daughter forward before rushing to her car.

You were utterly inconsolable, sobbing until your face was bright red and you could barely breathe. If Dean didn’t calm you down quickly, you might pass out, crying yourself into exhaustion.

“Hey Jude…” Dean had barely even made the decision to start singing before Hey Jude came to his head—the song his mother used to calm him down. “Don’t make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better…”

…

Dean would’ve done anything—anything—to undo the last ten minutes. He wanted to go back and change it all, to tell you a different story, to say “monsters aren’t real, they’re just stories, and of course dad doesn’t fight monsters, of course he’s not in danger, of course he’ll come home.”

But he couldn’t.

You were scared now. Maybe you always would be, in some capacity. You would always carry that little voice inside that said—“there are monsters out there, and they want you dead.”

Dean hadn’t wanted to tell you. Why did you have to be so curious? Why did you have so many questions, questions that you demanded answers for?

You were crying now; sitting by the motel window, waiting for dad to show up, and you were crying. Dean had done this—he’d made you so scared that you cried by the window, hoping that dad was coming home.

You flinched when the wind banged a tree against the window, and Dean decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He sat beside you, and you latched onto his arm instantly, leaning on him for support. Dean did the only thing he could think of—

“Hey Jude, don’t be afraid…”

…

Dean’s memories retreated to the back of his mind when the Impala door opened and you climbed in. He stopped his gentle singing—he hadn’t even realized he was doing it—when you turned to look at him. He looked from your eyes to the radio, almost as if he were begging you to remember—not just the song, but everything it meant to both of you. You just blinked up at him with that blank expression that had been haunting Dean since you started to forget.

“I don’t want you to be sad,” you whispered. Dean smiled painfully.

“You don’t even know my name.”

“But I know that I care about you.”

Dean’s breath hitched.

“You shouldn’t worry about me, little sister. I’m gonna fix you, I promise.”

“But what if you can’t? I still don’t want you to be sad.”

Dean was struggling to hold onto his resolve—to his strength.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you.”

The both of you lapsed into silence, the closing notes of Hey Jude still playing.

“I like this song,” you said quietly. “It sounds nice.”

Dean clenched his jaw tightly to keep his lips from quivering.

“Kid, please go back to Sammy.”

“Sammy,” you mumbled to yourself, as if trying to put a face to the name. Dean’s fists clenched as he blinked rapidly.

“That room-“ he pointed- “go knock. Sam is in there, he’ll take care of you while I get us some food.”

You stared at Dean for a long moment; he knew that you were worried about him, but the blank expression on your face hurt more than he could take.

“Sweetheart, go. I need you to…please. Please go.”

You left without another word.

…

“I found it.” Rowena’s outburst came just after you swallowed the last of your fries—Sam and Dean had barely picked at their food, but you had forgotten so much that you were no longer sure what they were worried about, so you felt fine.

“Found what?” Dean demanded.

“The coven. I’m sure of it. It’s the perfect place for a witch to hide. You take the last remaining in the coven out and get me their grimoire, and that curse will be gone before we know it.”

“What about her?” Sam’s eyes darted to you before looking back at Dean. “I don’t think she should be alone, she’s forgetting more and more.”

You glanced behind you to make sure he had looked at you, and not someone else. Dean noticed this and sighed.

“We don’t have much choice.” Dean stepped over to the tv and switched it on. “Commere Y/N.” He had to stare at you for several seconds before you realized that that was your name.

You jumped up off the chair and went to sit on Dean’s bed so you could get a good view of the tv.

“Ok, sit here and watch this,” Dean instructed, gesturing to the cartoon playing. “Don’t move, don’t leave, ok?”

“Why can’t I go?” You wondered.

“Do you know what we’re doing?” Dean asked. You pondered this.

“Witches…covens…your lumberjack outfits…a Halloween party?” You guessed.

Dean glanced down at his red flannel, seemingly offended, before he waved it off in annoyance.

“Yeah, you’re definitely staying here.”

“Well can I play with this then?” All three turned to see you with a—quite possibly cursed—dagger that you had somehow gotten from Rowena’s bag, along with a—definitely cursed—witches’ spell book.

“Hey now!” Rowena cried out, snatching both items from you. “How many times do I have to tell you, my things are not toys!”

You ignored this loud outburst and instead stared at Rowena as if you had never seen her.

“I like your dress,” you said suddenly. “It’s so…it’s like a queen’s dress.”

“Why…thank you,” she said with a sudden smile. “I think I like you better this way.”

“Rowena.” Dean grumbled.

“Yes yes alright,” she huffed. “Let’s go.”

…

The witches were surprisingly easy to kill, but when Rowena went to use their grimoire, Sam stopped her.

“How long will this spell take?” He asked.

“Maybe an hour.”

“I want to do it back at the hotel,” Sam insisted.

“It’s faster to—“ Dean began, but Sam interrupted.

“She’s gotta be terrified right now, with how much she’s forgetting so quickly. I want to be there for her, I want her to know that we’re fixing this.”

“It’s not far,” Rowena said, taking Sam’s side. “Let’s go.”

…

You were much harder to coax out of the bathroom this time, and even when you were sitting on Dean’s bed with a brother on either side of you while Rowena worked on the spell, you looked unconvinced.

Sam was trying to calm your nerves by showing you pictures and telling you names and facts.

“And this, this is Bobby—“ he’d shown you Bobby’s picture at least three times, but your short term memory kept getting worse, so you didn’t notice.

“Um…” Sam stopped talking when you started, but you didn’t get far before your face screwed up, and Sam knew you were trying to remember his name.

“Sam,” he supplied, hating to see you in distress.

“Sam,” you said with a breath of relief. “I just…I for-I forgot, what’s…what’s my name?”

Sam barely heard Dean’s sharp intake of breath over his own shattering heart.

“It’s…you’re—“

“Y/N.”

Sam was confused when you answered your own question, until he looked from you to Rowena, who wore a triumphant smile.

“Did you—does she—“

“Sam.” The wide grin on your face was unmistakable, as was the spark in your eye. “Dean.”

“Oh kid,” Dean breathed, wrapping you in his arms a split second before Sam could. Sam didn’t care though—he grabbed both his siblings in a group hug that had Rowena rolling her eyes, although the smile never left her face.

“You’re back.” Sam grinned.

“Did you ever doubt it?” You questioned with a laugh.

“I admit, a few moments gave me pause,” Sam chuckled.

“Didn’t doubt it for a second,” Dean insisted. “I knew you’d come back to us.”

“Well I’m sure that that would’ve comforted me—if I coulda remembered your name.”

You knew Dean was gonna throw that pillow at you before he’d even grabbed it—you didn’t need your memories to tell you that.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley

[thefourteenflames]

Valyrian Wedding Rituals & Its Parallels

“Among the people who came to inhabit Northumbria and the Lothians, as well as among other Germanic peoples, the nuptials were completed in two distinct phases. (…) The parties plighted their troth and the contract was sealed, like any other contract, by a hand-shake. This joining of hands was called handfæstung in Anglo-Saxon, and the same word is found in different forms in the German, Swedish and Danish languages. In each it means a pledge by the giving of the hand.” Handfasting' in Scotland - The Scottish Historical Review; Anton, A. E. (1958)

“In ancient Rome, a wedding was a sacred ritual involving many religious practices. (…) In a Roman wedding both sexes had to wear specific clothing. Men had to wear the toga virilis while the bride to wear a wreath, a veil, and a yellow hairnet.” Women's Costume and Feminine Civic Morality in Augustan Rome; Sebesta, Judith Lynn (1997)

“ When the terms of the ketubah were accepted a cup of wine was shared to seal the marriage covenant. (…) The bride and groom shared the same cup, symbolizing the shared life that would be theirs. (…) Wine in Judaism has always symbolized joy. (…) Wine also symbolized blood. The marriage covenant is a blood covenant in the eyes of God. Two lives become one in a lifelong commitment.” The Ancient Jewish Wedding; Lash, Jamie (2012)

[littlebluespoon]

Choices

Werewolf!Soap is here! Apologies for how long it took, I couldn't figure out how to end it.

2K words, tw: werewolves, cheesy romance books, chasing, kinda kidnapping, scaring, if there's any you think I've missed let me know

Look, I'm Scottish and I hate writing Scots and the accent, so you're just gonna have tae deal wi' it awright? 😅

There might eventually be a part 2, depends on if y'all like this part

You couldn’t believe your luck when you found the rental listing. A two bedroom, guest house on 4 acres of land in the middle of the countryside. Your only neighbour being your landlord who lives in the main house but was away on deployment most of the year. It was like a dream come true for you. Plenty of privacy and space for you to write, beautiful views of the loch and there was even enough space for you to finally have an office space. The best part about it all though was your landlord, Johnny. When you first saw him you were scared, this massive hulking guy in the middle of nowhere and you. He made you feel small, and he had this aura around him, something you couldn’t quite understand but it made the hairs on your arms stand up. When you learned he was military, you figured that was it but the feeling never quite went away completely. He showed you around the place and the more you talked, the more he cracked jokes, the more you got to know him, the more charmed you were by him. Before the tour was even over you were asking him when you could move in. It was a dream come true for you and it was even better when Johnny was home. 

The house always seemed to wait for him to come back to break but that was alright with you, it meant you got to see him under your cupboards and up ladders fixing whatever went wrong. It certainly gave you plenty of material to write about. In the eight months you’d lived with Johnny you hadn��t stopped writing. Your publisher was ecstatic because you were churning out best seller after best seller all with Johnny as your muse. Seeing as you were using a pseudonym you were careful with the details you used to describe Johnny as well, knowing that he could be followed back to you but this time you just couldn’t help yourself. Your bestselling books were dark romances and taboo themes but your new one was your first about supernatural creatures. 

‘Loosely inspired by every vampire romance out there; Stain the head vampire of his coven seeks a mate. One day he comes across a young female who’s just perfect for him. But she’s not charmed by his rugged mohawk or his deep Scottish brogue. Just how will Stain win over his bonnie lass?’

The dark erotic scenes and the cliff-hanger ending almost guaranteed that it would be another best seller for S.P. Wraith. But what really sold the book was the concept art for Stain, you’d commissioned an artist and you had them draw a likeness as close to Johnny as you dared. Within weeks of publishing you had a contract for a series of books and art of Stain was everywhere.

___

“Hey sergeant! You got a modelling gig we don’t know about?” 

“Soap! Show us yer fangs!”

“Let’s see you sparkle Sergeant!”

Soap was confused and starting to get a little annoyed at all the comments the recruits had been shouting at him. He was used to banter and camaraderie between everyone but this felt almost mocking. As he walked into the 141’s meeting he noticed Gaz was waving a book around and reading from it aloud,

“’You don’t like my mohawk?’ Stain said, shocked at the admission from his little pet. ‘Why I thought it complimented my roguishness and charming smile’ he went on to sa.. Soap!” Noticing Soap’s entry Gaz struggled to hold in a laugh as Price looked at him in disappointment,

“You know son, if we’re not paying you enough I’m sure there’s other options before whatever this was,” Price says waving a hand towards the book but Soap knows he really wants to say ‘What the fuck Soap?’

“I didnae do it! I don’t even know what ye’s are talkin’ ‘bout!” Soap tries to defend himself while grabbing the book and reading the cover: ‘The Life of Stain, Volume 1; A Beating Heart by S.P Wraith’ and staring back at him was a drawing of his face, right down to the scars from his first transformation. Before Soap can respond Price takes pity on him and starts their meeting, the bear shifter easily grabbing the attention of the other team members.

Soap finished the book in record time, in fact it takes him longer to work out who had written it and once he does he kicks himself a little because it should have been obvious. His sweet little tenant who can’t keep their eyes off his arse whenever he’s over fixing up the guest house for you. For the rest of his deployment he can’t stop thinking about you. What he’d do to you, how you’d look wrapped up, naked in his sheets, covered in his marks, completely his. So he fantasises, he reads as much of your writing as he can get his hands on because it’s obvious to him that you’re writing out your own fantasies, waiting for someone, him, to come along and make them real. By the time he’s heading home he has a plan for how to make you his.

___

You’re cleaning your kitchen when you see his car drive up the long path between both your houses. Freezing behind your window, as if that would stop him noticing you, you watch as he hauls his bags out the boot and ambles his way through his front door. You don’t move until even his shadow is gone from your sight and once it is the only thing on your mind is dinner. 

It’s tradition now, the first night Johnny’s back from deployment you make dinner for both of you and carry it over to his house. It started after you realised he never had any food in the nights he comes back because he’s never sure if or when he’ll get back so you made it your mission to welcome him home with a good meal and if it let you be in his company for a while, well that was just a bonus. Tonight you made a spaghetti bolognaise, quick but tasty and headed over. Like every other night, you ate together, chatted long into the early hours and watched as he slowly relaxed his posture and got used to being home again. When it came time for you to head to bed he watches you go and says goodbye with a 

“I’ll be over in the morn’ to check that gutterin’ o’ yours,” 

It’s the hammering that wakes you the next morning, taking two cups of coffee out to the front you find him just finishing up,

‘Early start Johnny?” you ask, handing him the cup and giving him a once over.

“Aye, can’t sleep in even if I tried,” he gives you a nod in thanks for the coffee and continues, “Well, that’s yer gutterin’ fixed at least, Wraith” You watch the smirk on his face grow at the same rate your confusion does,

“Wraith? Is that some new nick…” Your face drops in horror and you pale, “you know?” His smirk turns into a full on belly laugh at the expression on your face,

“Did ye really ‘hink I’d never find oot?” He takes the cup out your hand and crowds you into the wall, “Ya know, lass, if you wanted some monster inspiration all ye had tae do was ask. I only bite sometimes.” With your back against the wall and his hand sliding up your neck, holding you in place, you’re transfixed as you watch his canines lengthen before his face changes shape and ears sprout from his head, 

“Ye git thirty seconds tae run lass,” a voice growls out, it could only be him but it doesn’t sound like the charming Scottish accent you’ve come to love.

His hands drop and he steps away so you can see everything. The tail, his clothes being ripped, the giant paws for hands, “30, 29, 28… run!” the screeching is what gets you moving as you bolt towards the forest in your back garden. You can still hear him counting as you dart between the trees and jump over logs, not daring to look back because you know that’s how you’ll fall. Catching glimpses of a shadow in your peripheral vision you decide your best action is to climb, aiming for the first tree you can feasible climb quickly you do so. Hauling yourself up into the branches and trying to remain as quiet as possible with a hand over your mouth to quiet your heavy, panicked breathing.

The panicked breathing turns into full on sobs when you hear a loud howl, there are no wolves in this part of the country, no normal wolves that is. Hearing the sound of branches being snapped, you freeze in your hiding spot praying that he can’t see you but Johnny’s a werewolf, he’s never needed to see to know where you are. All you can do is sit there and watch as a giant, black wolf stalks around the base of the tree sniffing at the ground. The wolf circles the tree a few times before settling down at the base of it and looks directly up at you. It’s eyes, you notice, are oddly human. They’re still Johnny’s eyes.

For hours the two of you exist in this silent standoff. It’s not until the sun begins to set and the cold begins to make itself known that a move is made,

“Come oan lass, give it up. I dinnae want to drag you out the tree” Jolting awake at his voice your fear returns, “Lass, get down now.” There’s a bite to his words now, a command that you’re sure he uses on recruits, and it would have worked on you had your limbs not been frozen with fear.

‘Fine, dinnae say ye weren’t warned,” is the last thing he says to you before he walks away.

You’re shocked at this turn but you take the opportunity. Once you can’t hear him anymore you scramble out the tree and make a dash for your home. If you can just get to your car. Get to the car. Car. It’s all that’s on your mind, your car is synonymous with safety now. But you barely make it three feet from the tree when the wolf returns. With a single pounce, you’re face down in the dirt, the wolf is on your back and the growling in your ear causes you to pass out in fear.

___

It's the heat that wakes you up eventually, smothering like a weighted electric blanket. Completely unaware of where you are you go to try and take your pyjamas off only to find a furry weight pinning you down. It’s the fur that brings your memories back, Johnny knows about your writing, Johnny who turned into a wolf in front of you, Johnny who chased you through the woods. It startles you into alertness and you open your eyes to find a sleeping wolf on top of you.

Moving slower than a snail and as smoothly as you could manage with the full body shakes you’re battling, you manage to slide out from under him. Finding the door you get to it on shaky legs and are, reaching for the handle when a growl makes you freeze. You can hear his claws as they scrape across the ground, feel his teeth as he snags your shirt in them and his arms around your waist as he pulls your back against his chest,

“Yer no goin’ anywhere sweetheart. I’m no lettin’ ye” Johnny buries his face in your neck as he talks, muffling his last words.

“Johnny, I’m sorry. Okay, I’ll give you the money from the book, whatever you want,” you can’t decide whether to pull at his hands or push at his face, “I’ll find somewhere else to rent,” it’s something you’d hate to do but right now your life is more important.

“Leave? Lass, I ‘hink you’ve got the wrang end o’ the stick. Ah dinnae want ye tae leave, in fact imma gie ye a choice,” he pulls away from you, pushing you back against the door and caging you in between his arms, “I’ll even gie ye some time to ‘hink aboot it, awright. Ye can be my wife, and live happily with ev’ryhing ye ever want… or ye can be my pet, and this room will be the only thing ye ever see again.” The kiss that comes is surprising and gentle. He leaves you in a state of shock for a few seconds before grabbing a handful of your hair and dragging you across the room, “Just a little preview o’ yer options. Have a ‘hink, I’ll be back later sweetheart.” You’re too shocked to hear the door but what you do hear are the locks, three of them that signal no way out for you. All that’s left for you to do is sit in the dark and make your choice.

___

What will your choice be?

___

[ellorypurebloodculture]

Thank you for answering my questions!

... I have more.

Oops?

---

I get the Lord/Lady/Wix alternatives, but I was wondering if there was a non-binary alternative to the Heir/Heiress title specifically. Like if Heir Harry Potter realised he was non-binary, would he/they remain 'Heir', or is there a neutral equivalent title he/they could use instead?

What pronouns can non-binary wixen use? Is it just they/them or can they use binary he/she pronouns and neopronouns too?

Can cis or trans witches and wizards, who identify as either male or female, use neopronouns?

Do genderfluid wixen exist? How do they signal their current gender/pronouns?

If above is true, how do they store their magic?

Is the base etiquette the same internationally? (Regarding international relations/Are the basics common between countries/societies?)

Could Hogwarts be described as in Avalon but tethered to Magical Britain/a Scottish area? (SuperCarlinBrothers on yt found a likely real-world location for Hogwarts in Scotland, could it realistically be tethered there?)

"That was just Chaos’s second son deciding a school needed to happen and dragging the other Oligarchy into it." Are there any other major historical events in magical society that can be described similarly?

Can oaths be sworn to Chaos, similar to Covenants?

Are there any day-to-day traditions, actions, etc. required or undertaken in accordance with the worship of Mother Magic and Chaos?

"Oligarchy family magic goes dormant instead of … dying, for lack of a better word, because the deity that started the bloodline still lives..." Which deities started which Ogliarchy bloodlines?

What is the youngest someone can take over being the head of the family and running the duchy, in the event of all other main branch family members dying? (I.e. shards of memory 'verse, Harriet inheriting the Ladyship at 15, could she have inherited the Ladyship at a younger age if her parents and grandparents had died when she was 11/12/13/14?)

If the Heir/Heiress is too young, who would run the duchy in their place? Their godparents, their Vassals, or a Seneschal?

What is a Seneschal?

Could a New Blood who gets Magically Twinned with a pureblood take on their Twin's surname? (Like if Harry and Hermione were twins, could she be known as Hermione Potter?)

Are Magical Twins purely platonic? If not, could they, theoretically, Bond? Or is that similar to incest like what the Gaunts did?

How common are Gifts from deities?

Are the Weasleys Blood Traitors in the Pureblood Culture 'verse? You've said the Weasleys we know are from a branch line, so is it just their branch or is it the entire family?

1. I was wondering if there was a non-binary alternative to the Heir/Heiress title specifically?

Apologies for the confusion. They would also use “Wixen” as they have the right to the Lord/Lady First Name title.

2. What pronouns can non-binary wixen use?

Whatever ones they want. This is true for any person.

3. Do genderfluid wixen exist? If above is true, how do they store their magic?

Yes. Their magical storage would convert from their hair, to a signet ring, cuff bracelet, etc., and back automatically.

4. Is the base etiquette the same internationally?

Yes. The very basics of etiquette are consistent internationally. (I have not and will not be creating etiquette for other magical nations.)

5. Could Hogwarts be described as in Avalon but tethered to Magical Britain/a Scottish area?

It's in both. It has tethers to both. It can, if necessary, be pulled entirely into Avalon and cut off from Magical Britain. The same is not true in reverse. The wardstones, etc., laid by the Founders are in Avalon.

6. "That was just Chaos’s second son deciding a school needed to happen and dragging the other Oligarchy into it." Are there any other major historical events in magical society that can be described similarly?

Probably. But I can't think of any off the top of my head. 😂

7. Can oaths be sworn to Chaos, similar to Covenants?

Chaos is a deity. Covenants can occur with any deity, Chaos included.

8. Are there any day-to-day traditions, actions, etc. required or undertaken in accordance with the worship of Mother Magic and Chaos?

Required? No. Though, many magicals offer thanks via prayers or burning a thread of magic in sacrifice as an offering.

9. Which deities started which Oligarchy bloodlines?

Chaos founded the Just and Most Olde House of Slytherin.

Death founded the Hallowed and Most Olde House of Peverell

I've never decided for Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.

And I'm absolutely blanking on whether I said Fate founded the Gryffindor or Pendragon line. 😅

10. What is the youngest someone can take over being the head of the family?

From birth, if necessary. A baby could be born Lord/Lady/Wixen TITLE. Though, obviously, they wouldn't be expected to manage the estate.

11. If the Heir/Heiress is too young, who would run the duchy in their place?

Either Vassals or a Seneschal, if there's one appointed. This is true regardless of title (baronies, earldoms, etc.).

12. What is a Seneschal?

The steward of a Magical House who has sworn an Unbreakable Vow to never betray the bloodline and oversee all duties responsibly.

I've yet to write one into a fic, so I don't have any examples.

13. Could a New Blood who gets Magically Twinned with a pureblood take on their Twin's surname?

Only if they become twins via the Death-Blood Twin Adoption Ritual. If Mother Magic Twins them magically, they aren't actually blood-related.

14. Are Magical Twins purely platonic?

Yes. They could bond with the same person—share a spouse—but not romantically bond with each other.

15. How common are Gifts from deities?

Not very.

16. Are the Weasleys Blood Traitors in the Pureblood Culture 'verse?

No. But it is part of my Pureblood Culture 'Verse canon that they're Blood Feuding with the Vigilant and Most Ancient House of Malfoy.

[autisticjoys]

Video Games and Diversity: Wylde Flowers Part 1

SPOILER WARNING

Long post!

Wylde Flowers is a captivating game that combines elements of typical farming games (growing crops, tending to animals, collection items, mining, fishing), with elements of magic (crafting spells, brewing potions, a hidden magical village, nightly coven meetings) and even some room for romance, with 7 potential romantic partners.

You play as Tara Wylde, a woman in her late 20's who, following her losing her job and fiancé, moves from the big city to the island town of Fairhaven, to help her ill grandmother, Hazel, to run her farm. Soon, Tara finds out her grandmother, several of the town's residents and she, herself, are witches. She has to get used to running the farm, being a witch and after the passing of her grandma, she must help fight dark forces, solve mysteries and try finding a way to bring the townsfolk and the coven closer.

The game features a wide range of characters, and the casual representation of various ethnicities, religions and the inclusion of characters who are members of the LGBTQ+ community feels very refreshing, without ever feeling forced or overdone. There's a pride flag above town hall, the player gets to choose Tara's orientation and even the gender of her ex-fiancé, and her potential romantic partners include male, female and even a non-binary character. So, let's meet the characters!

Amira Syed is the Iranian town doctor and a member of the Fairhaven Coven, having the title of Adept. She's very openly flirtatious with Tara from the get-go and is one of her potential romantic partners. She refers to Wraiths (dark spirits) as Jinn, mentions she celebrates Nowruz and her favourite foods include Fesenjan, Jeweled Rice and Zeytoon Parvardeh.

Angus Seton is a baker of Scottish and Polish descent, whose shop is right next to the jewelry store run by his Puerto Rican fiancé, Francis Calderón. Angus is a member of the League of the Conscious Mind, something that causes friction with Francis, who doesn't like the League's teachings.

It is later revealed (after they've already gotten married) that Francis, like his older brother, is a witch and he joins the coven after they help free Angus from a Wraith, getting the title of Initiate (and eventually, Novice). After the coven is revealed, Angus, who has a fear of witches due to a family curse, feels conflicted at first, but ultimately declares he loves Francis no matter what.

Angus' favourite foods include Rumbledethumps, Skirlie and Pierogie, while Francis' include Arroz con Gandules and Asopao. In addition, they both have noticeable accents and Francis uses Spanish words, such as referring to a witch as a bruja and calling Angus cariño.

Aryel is a curupira demon, one of the Fae residing in Ravenwood Hollow, a magical community that exists between Fairhaven and the magical world of the Gloaming. He originated from the area of modern day Brazil and has a fondness of animals, and such, a strong dislike of the local rancher and butcher, as well as the former miners and is not above pranking people. His favourite foods include Malasada, Brigadeiro and Pacoquinha.

Bruno Soft is one of the elder residents of town, a fisherman who runs a bait shop and frequents the town bar. He is the son of a German immigrant, has been widowed for a while and has a somewhat estranged relationship with his son, Otto, the town's major and his wife, Vanessa, the teacher at Fairhaven's only school. He's not shown to be religious in any way and is shown to be progressive and accepting, such as when finding out witches exist and when referencing the fact that Tara's great-aunt was not straight.

His son, on the other hand, doesn't seem quite as accepting, being willing to put on witch trials and quick to accuse people of being evil and sowing seeds of chaos and fear. Otto's wife, Vanessa, turns out to be a witch who was rejected from the coven, and turned to dark magic to get back at them, nearly leading to a catastrophe, after which both her and her husband leave the island.

Cameron Conner, often called Messenger Cameron, leads the island's branch of the League of the Conscious Mind. A former Hollywood actor who was able to turn his life around after finding the League. His teachings are seen as controversial among townsfolk and his ideas of there being Malcontents (people who wish to do others harm), endanger the coven and wind up partially responsible for innocent people getting accused of witchcraft. After the coven is revealed, he starts questioning his beliefs and teachings. One of Tara's potential romantic partners.

Damon Mthembu-Haas is the South African owner of the local bar and a member of the coven by the title of Journeyman. His parents moved back to South Africa so his mother could return to her roots as a healer, leading to him inheriting his dad's bar. He's a kind and extroverted person who likes cooking up schemes and who is implied to have had a crush on the local florist before. He is one of Tara's potential romantic partners. His favourite foods include Cape Malay Curry, Bobotie and Chakalaka.

Giva Joshi is an Indian meteorologist who moves to Fairhaven after the bridge to the mountain pass is repaired. She's a practicing Hindu, and a lesbian, something that caused a split between her and her family, who wanted to sign her up for a well known matchmaker. She's curious and very passionate about her field, determined to figure out the cause behind Fairhaven's strange weather (caused by the coven having to turn the seasons magically). After Vanessa leaves, she becomes the new teacher, much to the kids' delight. Her favourite foods include Prawns Koliwada, Vad Pav and Pav Bhaji. She's one of Tara's potential romantic partners.

Gloria Miranda was a member of the Fairhaven Coven by the title of Illusionist, before her disappearance 4 years prior to the game's events. After her return, she becomes the new major, a post previously held by her husband. She is the mother of 2 children:

Violet is the local florist, who eventually boosts her store to serve as a boutique as well. She is a member of the coven, going by Acolyte at first, before being promoted to Herbalist, and eventually to Guardian.

Sebastian is one of the local school-children, working part-time at the stall and dreaming of leaving town as soon as he turns 18. The return of his mother and the reveal that he's a witch makes him decide to attend college online, at least for the first year.

The Miranda family's ethnicity isn't stated, tho they appear to be African-American.

Kai Hoapili is a Hawaiian surfer who wound up on the island after an incident. Whilst recovering, he met the owner of the local pop-up stall and eventually decided to stay and take over. He's very chill and easy-going, but admittedly misses being a part of the larger surfing community. He's one of Tara's potential romantic partners. It's mentioned in a comment that his community back home had religious practices, tho it's unclear if he himself is religious. His favourite foods include Haupia, Loco Moco and Manapua.

[aleck-le-mec]

Pagan ways to honor Palestinians

Like every other respectable human being these days I feel absolute terror, sadness and guilt seeing what’s happening to the PEOPLE of Gaza. Paganism has always been a way for me to deal with emotions and difficult things so I’m here to share what I’ve done and what I will continue to do to honor the people we have lost.

Of course donating funds, signing petitions, voting, protesting, talking about the genocide and boycotting is all a given but these are my spiritual/ grieving ceremonies. It’s important to balance both activism and the human need to grieve/ process in order to keep one’s humanity, avoid burnout and desensitization to this kind of violence.

Veiling

Veiling is a thing that some pagans do for all of their own reasons but I’ve found it to be a good way to honor others. If you veil with a kufiya, a historic scarf of Palestine this is also sending a message of exactly what and who you're standing for. I veil with a scarf that I inherited from my grandmother, like the martyrs of Palestine I never got to meet her, I never got the chance to know what she feared or what she loved. That symbol of loss and what could have beens’ remind me that we are all united in loss, we all are losing something through this genocide family, friends, lovers, coworkers, doctors, students, peers. Because of that loss we have to keep fighting we don’t have a choice, this genocide is everyone’s problem, it’s evryone’s loss.

Veiling in public spaces as a pagan can also help others feel more comfortable and like they have a friend in otherwise foreign places. I’m always reminded of what I heard a Sikh man say about his turban. He said that he wears it to let others know that he is there, someone you can pick out of a crowd at a glance and find easily if you’re in need of help. I always thought that was a simple beautiful sentiment that anyone can follow regardless of religion or spirituality.

Conscious grieving and candle light practice

Sometimes all you need to do is to sit down and think about things, cry a bit and be angry. Candle light visuals are important in almost every culture, they’re a universal sign of grieving and honoring someone so why not hold your own? If you have a coven/ group to do one with that’s cool but it isn’t any less honorable to do a private visual, hold that space to remember what you’ve lost and what you’ve seen. Think about what could have been, think about it and let it burn, let it hurt then promise yourself never again. Promise that this will never happen again, not if you have anything to say about it. Promise that as long as you live you will not stay silent as anyone feels this pain no matter their race, religion, or beliefs. Decide once and for all that this isn’t fair.

Displaying the palestinian flag and having one with you

It’s not uncommon for pagans, especially witches, to carry charms with them or on their person, it can be a sign of devotion or protection. So if you keep a symbol of Palestine with you it will remind you gently throughout your day that this will not go away. It's also a call to others to remember. Personally I have a bracelet that I made at the beginning of the genocide and I haven’t taken off since. I’m 50% irish/scottish and follow a lot of celtic paganism, knots are really important in celtic beliefs they’re strong, complex and can symbolize an everlasting devotion or connection. Having a knotted bracelet I made specifically with the intent of remembering Palestine in the flag’s colors is important to me and I will not take it off until I see a free Palestine.

Offerings to the wild/ learn

In general a lot of pagans make offerings to the wild without it being for a certain reason but it can’t hurt to put an intention around it. By offerings I’m not talking about blood sacrifices or anything crazy, tough people do that sometimes and honestly respect that level of commitment. I’m just talking about food scraps or planting seeds in your garden, you must remember to take care of your local wildlife too. Plant some wildflowers and as they grow remember that life finds a way, remember that the people we have lost live through you. Try and learn about Palestine before the occupation, learn about what they loved, what they feared and carry that with you, share it with other people. As long as you live and as long as you continue to speak, let it be for those who couldn’t make it, say their names and never stop growing your garden.

[spann-stann]

Setting Blurb: Hoppe City

Nestled snugly in the Hanami Planum, Hoppe City is the largest human settlement on the dwarf planet Ceres, and the de facto capital of free market civilization. Everywhere you go, after stepping off the Rags to Riches interplanetary spaceport (and casino resort) the planet's rich mineral wealth rewards those that were the first to claim it. From the many facilities for mining and refining what lies below Ceres' crust to the luxury estates and skyscrapers of those that made it big (never mind the slums in Refoogietown), Hoppe City and Ceres as a whole would reward those that would work for it.

As the inner solar system was being colonized by the three human powers in the late 2300s, ambitious eyes turned towards the asteroid belt and saw only opportunity. It was only a matter of time before the many construction projects in the inner system created a demand for resources that only the Belt could supply. The first ones to seize the Belt would reap the rewards. CorpEmp and the W.C.O.F. would dispatch a few expeditions to the Belt, and a swarm of independent miners would stake their claim in the untapped riches floating between Mars and Jupiter. The largest contributor to the Belt Rush would be the United Markets, and the largest of the U.M. settlers came from the Hoppean subculture.

The U.M. back on Earth was growing too corpocratic and libertine for the more socially conservative Hoppeans, and what available real estate there was was either too crowded for their tastes or would become so at an uncomfortable taste. Several thousand Hoppeans began to pool resources and capital together in the 2350s to settle, mine, and develop a plot of the Cerean surface, with the first families given stewardship over plots purchased by a secondary wave of Hoppeans staying behind to continue financing the colony back on Earth. Each family would be responsible for either mining their plot, providing a service for the other settlers, or develop for future use. Everyone also had to pitch in to buy military equipment for security. No freeloaders, no market failures, and definitely no Imps or Commies. Reserves could join the settlement proper, or pay triple to hitch a ride and disappear into the icy crevices to stead all their lonesome. C.P.C. gangsters were shot on sight.

The 2,500 families of the first and second waves (also known as the First Steaders) ratified the Covenant Charter on September 2nd 2355 in a rented Las Vegas convention center, affirming all families' adherence to the Non-Aggression Principle and describing in great detail what is and isn't Aggression. To help retain a united sense of identity, the founding families would model their colony's culture and memetics after the New England Puritans and the Scottish Covenanters of the 16th and 17th centuries, mixed with the stylings of their own brand of anarcho-capitalism. Three years later the first transport craft would land on the site of what would become Hoppe City.

For the next 500 years, the denizens of Hoppe City laid low mining and developing their part of Ceres and keeping an eye on newcomers to their neck of the Belt. The Hoppeans' large volunteer militia kept their colony and the rest of Ceres out of the Belt Wars in the 2600s. Likeminded groups from the U.M. would arrive and establish communities of their own, eventually adopting the Covenanter model of anarchist society. The rest of the U.M.'s subfactions would arrive to stake their own claims of the dwarf planet, with the Hoppeans giving them a wide berth, and wildly divergent Marketeers (NEVER bring up the incident with the Church of Randian Satanism) were treated like they didn't exist. Most individual miners would try their luck in the mines of Hoppe City, tripling the population just in time for the Human-Crystalline War (2801-2885).

As the Crystalline Aliens had a nasty habit of attacking any significant human presence, Ceres' population evacuated to the many underground mining complexes and rode out the war. Hoppe City's private militias remained on-planet in the event of an attack, but a few volunteered to join the rest of U.M. security forces to drive the aliens out of the Solar System. The aliens never touched Ceres, and because of that refugees would flock to the dwarf planet, tripling the population yet again. Most of the refugee population would be moved to the aforementioned mining complexes, they could either wait until it was safe to be relocated (especially CorpEmp and W.C.O.F. populations, and especially after fighting between the two groups), or try their hand at joining the planet's population. This refugee problem, and the threat of alien invasion, would lead to the expansion of the private security industry on Ceres. Many famous firms today had their beginnings in many volunteers that fought the Human-Crystalline War (against alien or refugee gang). The one group the Hoppeans were really wary of were the execs of the megacorps (MicroBucks, Morgan Industries, etc.) from the U.M. core.

Although they were sequestered in their own territories on Ceres, the Hoppeans didn't want the megacorps to start thinking they could run the dwarf planet like the rest of their assets. The descendants of the Founding Steaders (and a few Founding Steaders themselves who used life extension technologies) met with the megacorp execs, and stated that on no certain terms would Ceres be run like the old FVMEs on Earth. Pre-emptive strikes against acts of aggression were perfectly legal according to Covenant Charter, and it would be a shame if the execs did anything that would be considered aggressive. A few execs got the memo and drank the Hoppean kool-aid, or quickly relocated. Sympathetic megacorp employees would also subvert their employers' memetics with that of the Covenanters, bringing them more in line ideologically with the Hoppeans. By the beginning of the 2900s, Ceres and especially Hoppe City, would become the industrial and economic capital of the United Markets.

With the alien threat removed and their competition suborned, the Hoppeans and Ceres did what they did best: minding their own business and mining. As human settlement expanded into the outer solar system, a few expert miners from Hoppe City went to try their hand at establishing daughter colonies in the orbits of Jupiter and Saturn. An even smaller few went out to stake their claims in the Extrasolar Territories. The Transhuman Wars were the only conflicts of the 31st century that the Hoppeans would get involved due to --DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES BRING UP THE TRANSHUMAN WARS OR THE ACTIONS OF HOPPE HEDONICS IN HOPPE CITY - NEVER BRING UP THE TRANSHUMAN WARS - THERE WERE NO CATGIRLS - HOPPE HEDONICS NEVER PRODUCED CATGIRLS - UNDER THE REVISED COVENANT CHARTER OF 3106 ANY MENTION OF CATGIRLS CONSTITUTES AN ACT OF AGGRESSION-- in what would become know as Refoogie Town in the first layer of exhausted mining complexes below the city proper.

By the rise of CorpEmp's 5th ruling Dynasty, Hoppe City is an icy jewel that seems to only shine brighter. Most of Ceres by this point is "governed" (a dirty word in the U.M.) in covenants similar to Hoppe City, and Hoppean Scots has become the lingua franca of the myriad communites in the Asteroid Belt. Ceres has also emerged as the Mecca for developments in brine mining technology. Thousands of fortunes are made, lost, and won back daily in Hoppe City. In spite of all their history and achievements, however, there is one thing. One little frustrating thing that comes to most non-Cereans' minds first when asked to think about Hoppe City...

[scotianostra]

On February 28th 1638, the Second Covenant was signed in Greyfriars Churchyard.

You will have seen many of my posts regarding battles that came after this date in what eventually led to "The Killing Times" in Battles between those loyal to King Charles II called Royalists and those who that believed in the Covenant, the Covenanters. The whole affair covers from about 1637 to 1688.

When Charles I took the throne of England and Scotland, one of the things he tried to do was make the Scottish kirk more like the English church. He instituted a new Book of Common Prayer without input from the National Assembly. This angered the Scots, and riots broke out against the imposition of what was seen as Charles's English-influenced changes.

You might have heard of Jenny Geddes, who is said to have been the one who started the riots with throwing a stool in St Giles on 23rd July 1637, as she hurled the stool she is reported to have yelled: "De'il gie you colic, the wame o' ye, fause thief; daur ye say Mass in my lug?" meaning "Devil cause you colic in your stomach, false thief: dare you say the Mass in my ear?"

Well all this led to this day in 1638 when a group of nobles met at Greyfriars Kirkyard in Edinburgh and signed an agreement that they called the National Covenant of Scotland. They affirmed their loyalty to the king, but asserted the legality of the kirk and its customs. It was essentially a statement of independence in religious matters and a protest against English influence in church matters.

The Covenant was circulated around the country and those who signed it were called Covenanters. The Covenanters called a National Assembly which gathered in November 1638. The National Assembly abolished the system of bishops imposed by James VI, rejected the Book of Common Prayer, and refused the rest of Charles I's plans for church reform. They also raised an army; which might seem odd considering they made clear their allegiance to the king.

The Covenaters army was under the leadership of Alexander Leslie. Charles promised to meet with the Covenanters if they disbanded their army. They did, but Charles did not keep his word. The Covenanters raised a new army led by James Graham, the Earl of Montrose, and marched into England. The king was forced to meet with them. This time, however, the Covenanters did not trust Charles, and they reached an agreement directly with Parliament, by which terms all of the National Assembly's terms were accepted.

Unfortunately, after these resounding successes, things went sour. The Covenanters quarrelled amongst themselves. some wanted to force the king to abdicate. Others were alarmed because people were being forced to sign the Covenant.

However, the power struggle in the Covenanters army was nothing compared to the struggle in English society; Parliament and King Charles were about to embark on a civil war, and both sides courted the Scots. The Scots saw their chance and demanded a Scottish-style church in England in exchange for their help. Parliament agreed with these terms, and signed the Solemn League and Covenant. The Covenanters army then joined the English Civil War on Parliament's side. The Scots played a leading role in the decisive Royalist victory at the Battle of Marston Moor.

However, though the Covenanters joined Parliament, their erstwhile leader, the Earl of Montrose, could not bring himself to turn against the king. He felt that the Covenanters had gone far beyond the terms of the original Covenant and he joined the Royalist side. With Charles's blessing he returned to Scotland to raise a Royalist army. This he did, drawing heavily on support from the Highland clans, and fighting a guerilla war with small, quick moving forces. His tactics proved a huge success and within a year he had taken almost all of Scotland for the king. He was on his way south to England when he met a Covenanters army under Leslie at Selkirk. The Covenanters won a massive victory, and Montrose was forced to flee.

Charles surrendered to a Covenanting army in England. The Scots were now unsuccessful on several fronts; Charles would not agree to sign the Solemn League and Covenant, and Parliament refused to pay the Scots expenses as promised. The Covenanters finally returned to Scotland, and gave Charles over to the English Parliament after they affirmed that no harm would come to the king. That promise, of course, was not kept, and Charles was eventually executed.

The Earl of Argyll took over control of Scotland. He declared war on England and proclaimed Charles II as king. Even with the support of a Scots army under Argyll, Charles did not trust the Scots. After all, he reasoned, they had handed over his father to Parliament. Charles did not trust the Earl of Montrose, nor did he feel he could sign the Solemn League and Covenant. The Earl of Montrose was betrayed by his enemies and executed in Edinburgh.

Charles II eventually agreed to sign the Covenant, though it seems only as a pretext so he could gain Scottish support in his bid to reclaim the English throne.

Now roles were reversed and the Covenanters in Scotland fought on behalf of a Stuart king. Oliver Cromwell led his Parliamentary army into Scotland and defeated Charles and Covenanters and Charles was forced to flee the country once again.

Finally, in 1660 Charles was restored to the English throne. Now he showed his true colours in regard to Scotland; he declared invalid all laws passed by the parliament since 1633. He replaced the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland with bishops on the English model, and they were placed under control of Parliament. Not unnaturally, Charles's measures were resented and caused more religious turmoil.

The ministers of the church either had to accept the terms or leave there Kirk's, most left rather than be forced out, this led to open air field "conventicles", The Royalists didn't take kindly to this and fines were dished out to those not attending the now near empty churches, the death penalty was imposed for preaching at these outdoor gatherings, torture was used on those captured to give the names of those organising the Coventicles. This went on until King James VII fled to France.

There are monuments scattered around Scotland to the martyrs who died during the killing time, most notably on the spot where many were executed on the Grassmarket in Edinburgh, The Wigtown Martyrs Monument at Stirling and Martyrs' Memorial, Barony North Church, Glasgow.

The pic shows The Signing of the National Covenant in Greyfriars Kirkyard, by the distinguished Scottish historical painter William Allan and a replica Covenanter flag in The National Museum of Scotland, which you can see in the painting.

[greater-than-the-sword]

Ch1. Summary: a suspenseful history of a certain book that was banned by the Presbyterian church in Scotland in the 1800's on the grounds of being allegedly "antinomian". Antinomian is the term used as the opposite, as it were, of legalism: licentiousness and believing that a person should 'sin more that grace may abound', so to speak. The author, however, wishes to defend this book, which was also defended by certain Presbyterian ministers at the time as containing the very substance of the gospel.

Also, it details the parallel controversy of a certain Scottish pastoral candidate who was asked as part of his examination to affirm the following statement:

"I believe that it is not sound and orthodox to teach that we forsake sin in order to our coming to Christ, and instating us in covenant with God."

The grammar may be a little old-fashioned, but it was difficult to interpret even back then, apparently. The local church refused him the office when he rejected this statement, and when he appealed to the Synod they overturned the ruling and called the statement "unsound and most detestable doctrine".

So the rest of the book The Whole Christ is dedicated to unpacking all of that.

[maddiviner]

i think it's okay to leave out the UPG disclaimer when someone is acting like their UPG is universally correct. especially when it's as wildly blatantly ahistorical and made-up as the hecate person's (don't remember her username because i IMMEDIATELY blocked her). also when you use your UPG to demand other people practice a certain way

I thought about it a bit after I posted that.

IMHO? None of what she posted counts as unverified personal gnosis. Reason being that UPG is by definition the kinda thing that you can't disprove, exactly. If you're making false claims about objective, known history, that doesn't count. That's just called lying, either to yourself, or other people, sorry.

UPG is also personal. It's one thing if other people find your UPG compelling and join in on their own. It's also, IMHO, appropriate to share it if you're comfortable. If you're trying to force it on other people as the absolute truth, it really stops just being your UPG, and it's a jerk move. This is, obviously, especially true if the claims are ahistorical nonsense (which, again, doesn't count as UPG).

How I view this might piss people off, but I'm going to break down my views. I'm open to discussion of course, but this is just how I use the phrase ("unverified personal gnosis," I mean).

Some different UPG-ish things I've heard over time...

A certain Goddess considers me Her daughter in a spiritual/metaphysical sense. She expects certain things of me.

Humans all contain a lil piece of the Divine. I will work on connecting with that by prayer/meditating/whatever.

Reincarnation is real (or not real).

After death, I will join my loved ones in the Summerlands/etc to rest or something similar.

Everything above is, IMHO, UPG. I say that because it's unfalsifiable and personal. It's not ahistorical, nor does it conflict with physical reality. And, in the situations where I saw the above comments, it wasn't presented as absolute fact.

Some things that definitely don't qualify as UPG for the reasons I've mentioned...

Rather than originally being a Greek Goddess, Hekate was actually Scottish-Irish human woman who was murdered by men. (This was the original claim by the OP, actually.)

Jesus revealed to me in a dream that the earth is actually flat. The truth is being concealed by elite reptilians.

The Christian holiday of Easter connects to the Sumerian Goddess, Ishtar. Ancient pagans worshiped Her in springtime with eggs and bunnies.

I was burned at the stake in Europe as a witch in the 1700s along with the rest of my Wiccan coven. I reincarnated as a witch again.

None of the above is UPG. It's misinformation instead. You can look at historical/scientific sources and prove it's inaccurate.

I found the concept of UPG hard to grasp initially. I think some others do, too. Many of us are coming from or steeped in more organized religions.

I don't think a lot of them, at least in the pervasive American sorta Christianity, have anything like UPG? I mean, I didn't see much of it. So, it's kinda been a new concept for some, and a lot of us have to feel our way around it a bit.

Another thing I wanna add? UPG isn't always healthy or good even if it does quality as UPG. Some ways of thinking about the world just work better, I guess, and that applies across the board. A lot of UPG tends to be very fluid and adaptable, I've noticed, which I think is good.

The Hecate person is kinda funny because she just posted this huge spiel about how she knows she's doing it right now that she has "haters" and called us all ignorant "heathens" (her words) for not accepting her divine truth straight from God's Hekate's mouth.

The idea of someone who claims to be pagan using "heathen" as an insult is just... weird. I know there's probably some kinda discourse around the word but... still.

Someone I talk with on Facebook commented that it's weirdly Protestant?! Similar to how Jesus gets portrayed. You've got a divine being that was, uhhh, actually from a completely different culture being portrayed as Scottish/Irish, Greek roots being erased. Said divine being was somehow also incarnated as a human, and martyred? And then we have a prophet, too! Sounds super similar to me, too, now that I start to think about it in those terms, but I didn't notice before.

[psalmonesermons]

When I make up my jewels Part 2

Malachi 3:16-18

Lessons from the Scottish Revival 1948-52

In Part 1 we saw that the praying men and women in the Hebrides were given a revelation by the Holy Spirit that God was a covenant keeping God who responded to the intercession of his covenant people.

Here is what happened next;

At 3am God swept into the cottage

The first night of the meetings in the church at Barvas, nothing much happened, but one of

the praying deacons said to Duncan Campbell, "Don't be discouraged, it is coming. I already

can hear heaven's chariot wheels. We will have another night of prayer and then we will see

what God is going to do."

About thirty went to a nearby cottage and continued to pray into the night.

At about 3am God swept into the cottage and about a dozen were laid prostrate on

the floor, unable to move. Something had happened! Revival had come!

As they left the cottage, they found the lights burning in every house as men and women were seeking God.

They found three men laying by the roadside under conviction of sin, crying out for God to

have mercy on them.

Converted before arriving at church

The events of the second night will never be forgotten by those who were there!

Buses came from the four corners of the island. Seven men were being driven to the meeting in a butcher’s truck, when suddenly the Spirit fell on them in great conviction - they were all

converted before they reached the church.

As the preacher preached tremendous conviction swept down upon the people and tears fell down the faces of those present. So deep was the distress of some that their voices could be heard outside.

Under the burden of Intercession

The meeting finally ended, and people began to move outside. A young man began to pray

under a tremendous burden of intercession, He prayed for three quarters of an hour and as he prayed people gathered outside the church until there were twice as many outside as there had been inside. When he stopped praying, an elder gave out Psalm 132 and as the great congregation began to sing, the people streamed back into the church again and the meeting continued until 4am.

The moment people took their seats the Spirit of God in great conviction began to

sweep through the church and hardened sinners wept and confessed their sins.

At the police station

As the meeting was finally closing, a messenger hurried to the preacher, "Come with me!

There is a crowd of people outside the police station; they are weeping and in awful distress.

We do not know what is wrong with them, but they are calling for someone to come and pray

with them."

Describing the scene outside the police station the minister later declared, "Oh I saw a sight I

never thought possible. Something I shall never forget. Under a starlit sky, men, and women

were kneeling everywhere, by the roadside, outside the cottages, even behind the peat stacks,crying for God to have mercy on them!"

Six hundred people had been making their way to the church, when suddenly the spirit of God had fallen upon them in great conviction, causing them to fall to their knees in repentance.

Crying out against dead religion and standing on the promises of God.

Amen

Revival Prayer

In Part 3 we find out what else happened when revival came to the Hebrides and the implications for the church in Ireland and elsewhere.

[mrbexwrites]

Introducing

Hello! I'm Mo, and it's great to meet you! I'm a writer, who is looking to take that initial bravery pill and share my work with others. (Hence all the snippets that I've been sharing via tag games!) I've been on Tumblr for years, but this is a separate blog to post about my writing, so as not to bore my mutuals over on my main blog @islanded-in-a-stream-of-stars! If you get a follow from that account, that's me!

About me: ✽ She/her pronouns ✽ Elder millennial ✽ Scottish ✽ I love to read/write fantasy and sci-fi ✽ DM and asks are always open; tag me in games :)

What I write: :

Science Fiction

Fantasy

And what I’d like to find:

Diverse/ethnic minority characters

Chronically ill/disabled characters

Queer characters

Women-centric narratives

Current WIPs

✽Blood Covenant- Mavis is a Hunter, a Soldier of the One, tasked with killing the Archeon, the High Demon who stole her brother. But when she fails the task, she is banished and must find her own way back into the fold.

Mentally-ill character, childhood trauma, overcoming trauma, healing & found family.

-Current status: First draft completed.

✽ Memento Mori - a collection of four novellas (hello NaNoWriMo!) following Morgana Dodds, a Millennium Citizen with the ability to speak to ghosts. Mentally ill character, LGBTQ+ characters, trauma included. -Current Status: Part I is up on Wattpad Parts II-IV still need to be edited

✽ Searching for Starlight- Aliens lands in Delhi, and Rashmi finds herself in the middle of an intergalactic coup, with the additional headache of a death cult. LGBTQ+ characters, and found family included.

-Current status: First draft completed.

Banner set created by @cafekitsune from here

[theherdofturtles]

How I think these guys think England - Hobbesian / Fable of the Bees. Anti-language of Rights. Language of Law. An act committed ‘without right’— can occur only under covenant or statute ‘in-jure.’

America - Andrew Fletcher / Civic Republicanism / language of Virtues early life, but falls into language of Manners later (Scottish Enlightenment essentially). Traditional Natural Law ; Pufendorf influence.

[appalachianwarlock]

Term's Hillbilly and Redneck

The term "hillbilly" in the United States started early in the 18th century when British soldiers began using it when referring to Scots-Irish immigrants who lived in the frontier areas of the Ozarks and Appalachian Mountains. These Protestant Irish colonists brought their traditions with them when they immigrated. Many of their stories, songs, and ballads dealt with the history of their Ulster and Lowland Scot homelands, especially relating the tale of the Protestant King William III, Prince of Orange. Many of the settlers in the Appalachian mountains were of German origin and were named Wilhelm with the short form Willy, a common German name during that time. Those Wilhelms, who went by Bill or Billy, living in the Appalachian Mountains became known as hillbillies, that is Bills who lived in the hills. The term emerged as a derogatory nickname given by the coastal plain-dwelling Southerners to the hill-dwelling settlers of Eastern Tennessee, Western Virginia (including modern West Virginia), and Eastern Kentucky.

The term Appalachian Hillbillies arose in the years after The War Between the States, when the Appalachian region became increasingly bypassed by technological and social changes taking place in the rest of the country. Until The War Between the States, the Appalachians were not significantly different from other rural areas of the country, but after the war, as the frontier pushed further west, the Appalachian country retained its frontier character, and the people themselves came to be considered as backward, quick to violence, and to make their living from moonshine stills. Fueled by news stories of mountain feuds, such as that in the 1880s between the Hatfields and McCoys, the hillbilly stereotype developed in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century.

The origins of the term "redneck" are Scottish and refer to supporters of the National Covenant and The Solemn League and Covenant, or Covenanters, largely Lowland Presbyterians, many of whom would flee Scotland for Ulster (Northern Ireland) during persecutions by the British Crown. The Covenanters of 1638 and 1641 signed the documents that stated that Scotland desired the Presbyterian form of church government and would not accept the Church of England as its official state church. Although the term "redneck" is characterized by farmers having a red neck caused by sunburn from hours working in the fields, many Covenanters signed in their own blood and wore red pieces of cloth around their necks as distinctive insignia. Since many Ulster-Scottish settlers in America (especially in the South) were Presbyterian, the term was applied to them, and then, later, their Southern descendants. One of the earliest examples of its use comes from 1830, when an author noted that red-neck was a name bestowed upon the Presbyterians.

The term Redneck refers to a stereotype of usually rural, Caucasian people of lower socio-economic status in the United States and Canada. Originally limited to the Appalachians, and later the South, the Ozarks, the Great Plains and the Rocky Mountains, this stereotype is now widespread throughout North America. Southern comedian Jeff Foxworthy defines "redneck" as "a glorious lack of sophistication" stating that we are all guilty of at one time or another. The common stereotype of a "redneck" is a group of people that are generally from The South, though can be found throughout the United States. They are considered uncivilized, uneducated, racist, enjoy outdoor sports such as hunting and fishing, and country music. They know how to work on a farm, can fix their own vehicles, and know how to make moonshine. They tend to live in the backwoods.

The terms "hillbilly/redneck" is often misunderstood by those north of the Mason-Dixon line. Many Yankees use these terms to refer to Southerners and treat them as if they were illiterate, uneducated, inbred, and backward compared to the rest of the United States. you know what you believe and you aren't afraid to say so, no matter who is listening; you respect your elders; or, you'd give your last dollar to a friend in need.

(Edited From Facebook)