mistress of the sea

EVERY STAR IS A MIRROR 

Aries ~ The snowflakes of Pisces winter fall and death embraces the zodiac.
Sweet, sensual death. Evaporating into the divine, deep in the hollows. And the further we go into darkness, the brighter the light within us shines
Bursting to awaken with the first sound of spring, bluebirds echo in the Aries ear, calling… calling… calling….
bring back life, colour, and god’s delight to the bleakness
Special child of the divine, still held in heaven’s arms, waiting to be born like an exploding nebula, scattering pieces of itself everywhere out of curiosity and enthusiasm. Follow the sound of bloom, the fresh smell of spring, the feeling of warmth beginning to saturate your spirit once more
the earth’s revered child has finally been born. The zodiac begins

Taurus ~ 
As a child of Venus, Taureans navigate the world through their senses. The fresh air of nature, trees, flowers and wildlife is extremely therapeutic and stimulating for them. They are often acutely sensitive to the seasons and weather changes. There is a real need for contact with nature, which and many Taureans fill the roles of farmers, gardeners, horticulturists or artists who use natural materials. One of the male images of Taurus is that of the green man, the male fertility principle. This sign is the closest manifestation material purity, and their sensory alertness allows them to connect to the five sense experience like no other. They can make universes out of empty sketchbooks, make homes out of half crescent Moons and heatwaves through their determination and spirit. This is all four seasons rolled into one.

Gemini ~
Gemini provides a dazzling display of how the mind works. This
mad instrument in all of its
glory and its chaos, its genius and dissociation, its ability to create patterns and puzzles and spin the world upside down. Gemini is like a literal
mind fuck, you know one minute you are traveling 200,00 miles an hour down one road, into philosophy and corruption of the military
and then you have a drunk child on your hands, unable to focus or sit still for a moment. Geminis orgasm can come from conversation, communing with a mind, or meeting an intellect, someone who will talk their ear off all night
conveying hypnotizing facts and knowledge. Gemini is always
the student and the teacher, forever threading the information inside onto
silver wings and blowing them into the ether. They touch people through
language, through the way they weave words together to create
laughter or conversation or sheer delight. Gemini is spinning deliriously in a
world of thought, crossing the borderlines, doing the thinking for both dark and light. Gemini is a book of mysteries inside 


Cancer ~ 
Cancers have a surreal experience of time. It can melt through their mind
like dripping honey. The sound of clocks can be intimidating. They need music and oneness, the rhythm of stars. The moon rules Cancer, and before the 30-31 day calendar, we followed the cycle of the moon, a 28 day ‘month’, stemming from ‘mon’, or ‘moon’.
And now we live separate from nature, and the Cancer is pulled between materialism and delirium, unsure of what is completely real. But from this conflict evokes a brilliant prophet in the Cancer, a crystal ball that conjures the inner world’s most marvellous vision. Spirit guides reside in the 4th house.
So the Cancer can hear thoughts, and these are thoughts of their guide. They can receive intuitive knowledge about the past, a place where the Cancer dwells comfortably, they can be the conduit for ancestral inheritance and the protection of passed descendants, they can swim on a river of divination, because their psychic imagination is so acute. When they fear their own safety, this vision can become dark and volatile. Fear is Cancer’s most destructive poison.


Leo ~ It’s the centre of a star that bursts from Leo
and they are pure magic, a splendid cosmic artwork mixed with dripping sun maple and  the manifestation of divine creative power.
the Leo can stare at themselves and see the universe in their reflection, a flickering light of God burning behind their eyes,
constellations made of broken capillaries, sweetness and softness.
And there is the roar of the Leo lion, a heart that beats a tattoo
in their chest because it is overflowing with love, passion, and desire. The Leo has painted every sparkling essence of time and space with their
enchanted paintbrush, that mind is a visual display of milky way fireworks, heaven is a place on earth with Leo.
But the Leo can also look in the mirror and see a black hole. It isn’t always so vein and conceited. every flaw echoes so loudly. The Leo just wants to be loved, simply for who they are. Not their fortune, or photographs, or profound generosity. Only the bravest hearts are born under the sign of Leo. It’s sensitive and spirited,
ravishing and regal


Virgo ~ 
The lines and poetry of sacred geometry and mechanical movement come to life before the Virgo eyes. Sacred geometry is the sort of experience the Ancients believed was nourishing for the soul. Virgo becomes intimate with the earth and its divine faculties with more voracity than any sign. There are details perceivable to only the  Virgo, like nervous signals jump from their fingertips into their surroundings and electrify the invisible engineering. The Virgo individual is very sensitive to elements, precision, accuracy, and seemingly insignificant components, but nothing is simple to the Virgo, and they recognise
the duty and usefulness of everything, the whole dynamic of seasons and earth, the equilibrium and the silent movement. This is what makes Virgo tremendous at occult studies, specifically those requiring analysis like astrology and numerology, and those involving healing properties like minerals and witchcraft. Through intense observation of surroundings, through holding a
microscope to every leaf and flower, through watching the reverent dance of the sunrise as they measure the motion by time, they identify with the part of themselves that is infinite. They can unify with the part of themselves that is pure, that is untainted awareness and magnificence and beauty. 


Libra ~ 
With Libra we have the Snow White pages. the innocent beauty who does not know the seduction of her aura, the distressed belle who waits for a prince to save her, despite easily outwitting and serving justice better than any man who takes their hand. and in the antithetical pole, the wretched self consciousness. After Virgo has achieved personal perfection, she wants to be the fairest of them all. she evokes the images of others as she attempts to be all things, a glorious figment. they are the enchanted mirror, although they look into their own searching for others and answers. Libra is every character, the enchanting snow is the jewel in her heart and the melody in her love of people. And the witch, her voices of self resonance. Saturn exalts in Libra and the stepmother is an expression of the domineering Saturn parent, often leaving impossible idealism in the child. The notes of empty comparison against others that wither her supple apple cheeks into dried roses and destroy every venus valley. 


Scorpio ~ 
The human world is rarely enough for Scorpio. That can be why they provoke people’s souls, they want to see your insides, your darkness, your light. They can seem spiritually provocative, it’s like they know how to draw madness out of lovers, they can sense the unseen, they can experience states that question existence. And nothing is ever enough.
They don’t want a lover. They want a reunion with a soul mate, their soul. They don’t want sex. They want angelic intimacy, the evaporation of bodies into intwined ether. Scorpio is preparing for death, but they don’t want to leave without truly tasting life. The superficial is rarely enough for Scorpio. They are discontent swimming in shallow waters. They become easily bored when their brilliant mind is under stimulated and unchallenged, they become distracted into unconscious trance when people are dull. And the Scorpio cannot force conversation. There are holes in the world that only Scorpio can see, and they will crawl into one when this world is not enough. 


Sagittarius ~
After emergence from the deep Scorpio tomb, the Sagittarius hybrid spirit soars far and wide. The Sagittarius wisdom operates from the laws of nature, stars, archetypes, the Akashic records, the higher mind, and culture. It embodies the divine chant of laughter, the publication and interpretation of symbols, mythology, theology, and religion.
Here is the quest for the meaning of life, the pilgrimage to unknown regions in search of understanding and the materialisation of belief. It could be travel, education, relationships, indulgence in intoxicants, or nomadic wandering through religion. The Sagittarius guru is the scholar. His temple is filled with books, compasses, astrology notes, and artifacts from every country. He uses comedy for his teachings and applies experience to philosophy and scripture. Waiting in the middle of winter, the Sagittarius speaks many languages and knows many ways of life.
He is approachable and warm, filled with light and spice. Even with the wrinkles of time, the spirit of youth always radiates. Old as the trees and free as a bird, as young as the sunrise and as old as the night.


Capricorn ~ 
To stand on top of the mountain, to stare over the edge of the midheaven, sometimes all you would ever
see would be your own shadow. And the Capricorn’s shadow can linger like a heavy fog, always threatening, always concerning. At her peak, she radiates like a Mistress of Brilliance, she has scaled the land and sea, starred in her
own dream and written her own success story. She has stood behind people and encouraged their ascent
in her graces she has climbed and flown, a mountain goat, pursuing the grand land and salty sea. In all of this, she has only had herself to rely on,
and a voice of wisdom, found only in the darkest moments. She can be hungry for descent because she understands the reigns of flight. The Capricorn is contained, and yet they are the stitches that thread the stars, the grand mastery of it all. In her spirit wields the resources of the Gods, each of whom have tried and tested her. Through the Capricorn’s shadow, a self portrait is created. It reveals the most powerful triumphs of human kind.  The undeniable component of the shadow is that in its presence it reflects only light. The Capricorn is capable of wielding both in their starry ascent toward the heavens, an intuitive focus in strategic command, a skilled concentration that gleams fantasy into
reality. The shadow can be lined in
exquisite silver. 

Aquarius ~
Telepathy could be the Aquarius enchantment. Telepathy into the web of consciousness, the matrix of thought that connects all beings together. Telepathy into the ideas of the sky, cascading like a diamond waterfall into the Aquarius mind. And there is telepathy into the knowledge of stars and space dwellers. The Aquarius mind is a conduit for all sorts of cosmic contemplation. It receives tremendous visions of utopia and elevating bursts of intuition. It also soaks up space junk, and this may turn into madness. Aquarius is the last moment of thought before we capsize into Pisces dream.
They look out to the stars to find their soul mate. They stare into the sea to contemplate infinity. They test logic against galaxies of invisible wonder. The Aquarius mind diffuses an extraterrestrial perfume, their thoughts dart through constellations and fields of existence. Underneath the disorder is a mind that sparkles like the diamonds that rain on Uranus. Inconceivable. Curious. Marvellous.

Pisces ~ 
Pisceans can try on new personalities like they try on shoes,
and with those unusual feet hardly any shoes, from heels to flats or docs seem to fit properly, like all these personalities she tries to be, none of them cloak her soul with the colours. Nothing ever seems to fit those shades
she knows ripple inside, those pastels that haven’t been invented yet. From room to room she moves, shifting face and shape, slippery with sea salt infused in her skin, impossible to catch or define, lost and wandering,
the facets of a thousand personalities. It feels so foreign being trapped in a body, when she can feel wings fluttering behind her shoulder blades,
and scales shimmer under her thighs. Like a mirror carved in heaven, reflecting people as angels. She is the stain glass window that forever changes colour and tone, paint streaked over her spirit, impossible to conceive without a kaleidoscope. She knows her true self resides at home
The home in the sky, made of clouds and liquid love. But for now the show must go on. Who do I dress as today.
Nobody knows.

-Cherry

some 14yo on tumblr dot com: QUEER IS A SLUR!!!!!

me, a weathered gay, staring out across a sea that once i called my mistress. i am wearing a thick coat; the collar is flipped up against the driving rain. i stand on a dock. the air is cold. a siren song of brine calls my name and where one spring day i might have gone, my hair is now as stormy and grey as the foam-topped waves, crashing their meager peaks upon a desolate shore. a pipe clenched tight beneath my teeth, the tobacco is long-dampened under the oppressive wet and weight of this mid-winter storm. i squint at the horizon, perhaps imagining a long-lost ship that might yet return to shore: Fuck Off Thanks

She flung down her dress among the others, took off her underthings and held them up and with a joyful laugh let the wind snatch them out of her hand, and then she was just flesh and fur and flying hair, unworried by the cold; uncluttered by the trappings of land-clothing. - from The Brides of Rollrock Island, by Margo Lanagan

HERE COME THE WAVES - a playlist about ill-fated love between land folk and selkies. 

i. seal jubilee - bat for lashes // ii. swimming - abel korzeniowski // iii. white waves - shearwater // iv. fire snakes - laura veirs // v. landscape - florence + the machine // vi. she cries your name - beth orton // vii. flickers - son lux // viii. rocks and water - deb talan // ix. mermaid blues - tom mcrae // x. the waves have come - chelsea wolfe // xi. lille - lisa hannigan

[listen]

I just remember how fond I was of Ponyo’s Dad, Fujimoto, from the Ponyo movie. I mean yeah he was the ‘antagonist’ of sorts, but he’s this doofy once human, now wizard who lives in the ocean with his many fish daughters and loves a giant sea goddess. Not to mention he looks like a sleep deprived mess of a wizard (My favorite kind) And just decided one day to 'fuck the land, I’m gonna go live in the sea. Just fuck land. Fucket.’ Not to mention his stupid crazy ginger hair all over the place and the thing with wearing pinstripe suits in terrible colors, I just love him so much, permit to get passionate for a brief moment:

 

Imagine him getting mad at sailors who say 'Ahh….the sea is a harsh cruel mistress, but she’s my mistress…’

'Uh excuse you-The Sea is my WIFE and I will THANK YOU not to TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT’

 

'I DONT WANT HER TO BECOME HUMAN, I LOVE HER SO MUCH, GRANMAMARE.’

'Babe, we’ve got dozens of fish daughters, what about them?’

'I LOVE THEM TOO BUT I LOVE PONYO THE MOST. I DON’T WANNA SHARE’

'BABE YOU GOTTA SHARE’

'NO!’

 

'Your husband is a mess.’

'yeah but he’s my mess. and I love my hot mess. Looket him doing sciencey things with the fish.’

*Fujimoto falling off a boat screaming*

'Precious.’

 

Imagine him visiting begrudgingly for Ponyo’s birthdays. He just sits grumpily in a kiddy pool. Grown ass man. Sitting in a kiddy pool. In a suit and tie.

 

Granmamare just petting him like a cat.

'this is my husband. He is smoll and floofy. I must take good care of him. Sometimes he forgets to eat stuff and to sleep. He floofy and fragile and sometimes he stands on rocks and yells at seagulls to stop pooping in the sea. I love him.’

 

'Why did you decided to live in the Ocean, Fujimoto? I meant besides the fact to be closer to your giant sea wife.’

'I can avoid taxes easier this way.’ (I now believe that all the Ghilbi Wizards are notorious Tax Dodgers, please see Howl’s Moving Castle, he literally lives in 3 diffrent towns at the same time)

 

'Humans are disgusting’

'Fujimoto, you were human once.’

'I know, and It was gross, I hated it.’

 

'How many daughters do you have’

’ I DONT KNOW. GIANT SEA GODDESSES DONT NESSARILY REPRODUCE LIKE PEOPLE DO, I AM CONSTANTLY SURROUNDED BY TINY MES.’

’….Is that a bad thi-’

'Shut up, I love it, don’t talk to me or my 1,290 daughters ever again

anonymous asked:

(Hi, I saw a post a while back that mentioned the colour green somewhere, which got me thinking about a family member. Then I realised there were a bunch of other things in my childhood that were weird cooincedences. So I wrote this! I'll have to send it in multiple asks, though, Hope that's alright!) ____________ You know the name that your parents planned on giving you, but never followed through with? What you were going to be called until they changed their minds. [Part 1]

Your almost-name that was erased from the stars and rewritten in the dust of comets. Well, my almost-name was Maria. It means “mistress of the sea”, or “Wished-for child”. My mother had wanted to call me that. But as time progressed and my birth drew near, something must have compelled her otherwise. She decided against the name, and waited until I was born. The first time she saw me, she knew what I would be named. [Part 2]  

Of course, to give my true name would be the very opposite of its meaning. And I’m not one for irony. So there I was, Maria. Growing up in the middle of my country’s capital city; as far from the sea as possible. A little girl with hair that fell in choppy, untameable blonde waves and eyes as blue as the bottomless abyss. My parents could not have been happier. Infant took the first tentative steps through years into toddler, and from toddler to child I passed. [Part 3]      

Slamming chubby fingers onto the keys of my grandfather’s piano, and relishing in the sweet, incoherent jumble of notes. Racing through the seemingly endless garden and brushing the roses with sunlit hands, paying their thorns no mind. Breathing in the smell of aged wood for the first time as I stepped into the faded blue garden shed, its shelves littered with acrylic paint tubes. And the empty canvas, sitting there, waiting. [Part 4]     

They were my childhood memories; my parents and grandparents guiding me in the creative practices that had run through out veins for generations. Then the sea came flooding in. One might say it was the green that did it. See, my mother never wore any other colour - her entire wardrobe consisted of veridians and shamrocks, even down to her jewellery. And green is Their colour. They’re drawn to green like moths to a flame. [Part 5]                  

anonymous asked:

how fast does dorian age?

(This has been sitting in my drafts because I’ve been working myself up to answering).

PREPARE FOR SOME PAIN.

As you may remember from episode 53, Dorian isn’t immortal, but ‘slowed down’, so he ages at a much slower rate than that of normal person.

He’ll die at around 270 years old. 

He won’t turn Mattie into a Moonborn. He would rather die than put her through that. So yeah, he’ll have to watch her age and he’s with her when she passes. He’s with all of the Wielders when it’s their time to go. 

He watches out for his daughter and his relatives and the families of the Wielders. He watches out for their children, and their grandchildren.

He doesn’t return to Golgotha, even when he hears that the Mistress has passed. 

He spends his time by the sea, re-learning how to play guitar, taking in stray dogs…remembering. He visits the graves of his loved ones, misses them, smiles.

Sometimes he’s asked to speak at historical gatherings and seminars, and he relives his memories there. Everything he says is carefully documented, because he’s the only one alive to tell the story.

Until the day that he’s not.

anonymous asked:

I saw that anon aksing you about a good pirate au and I think you're talking about the songbird and the sea by MissterMaia on ao3. I haven't read this yet so I may be wrong but the description seemed to fit

Hello! We found out it was The Devil’s Mistress by springrain21 but we did also recommend reading The Songbird and The sea!

-Admin Nana

Mercy

You left me

shore-bound, ship-wrecked,

lost at land.


You gave me


this:


Chains.

Life.

(Him.)

Memories of you that

refuse to fade

as years pass and I

remain –  


The blue of your eyes, vivid

like the ocean at her shore.

(How I miss her.)

(The blue of his eyes, I don’t need to remember;

they are with me still.)


But you

rendered me

incomplete.


Your voice, hoarse and velvet-rich,

honey-sweet and

soft in my ear,

a whisper in the night,

spinning tales, always.

(His voice cuts through my nightmares, calling my name.)

(My name is his alone, you never claimed it.)


I miss you like I miss the sea,

mistress, breath, infinity.


You let go of me,

but –


I think of you when the sun sets.

(Sitting by the window as he writes.)

My mind seeks you out

beyond the horizon

– thereabouts –


You gave me


this


but took from me

so much more.


Three people I’ve loved,

but you, I never got to love

enough to fulfill

the promise I couldn’t make,

the promise you didn’t hear.


Mercy, such an alien

and twisted thing.

Tasting its bitterness, I wish

I could have tasted

the sea salt on your skin,

just once.

(Drinking wine from his lips, I quench my thirst.)


If I ever laid eyes

on you again

I wouldn’t know what to say

to stop it being 


this:


The loss of you, so keenly felt

after all this time,

its edges leaving me ragged.

(At the sight of him, I am round for a while.)


You wielded the sword

with ease, thinking it blunt,

not knowing the blade

cut too deep.



Inuit Mythology →Sedna, Goddess of the Sea

known as the Mother/Mistress of the Sea, Sedna’s tale is one of creation describing how she came to rule of Adlivun (Inuit Underworld). In one version she is the child of Anguta (the creator-god) with a hunger that causes her to attack her parents, resulting in her father taking her to sea and casting her overboard. She clings to the side but Anguta cuts off her fingers and she sinks to the underworld, ruler of the monster of the deep. Her severed fingers become seals, walruses and whales.

The Capricorn Shadow

“These woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.” 
-Robert Frost

To stand on top of the mountain
to stare over the edge of the midheaven, sometimes all you would ever
see would be your own shadow. And the Capricorn’s shadow can linger like a heavy fog, always threatening, always concerning. At her peak, she radiates like a Mistress of Brilliance, she has scaled the land and sea, starred in her
own dream and written her own success story. She has stood behind people and encouraged their ascent
in her graces she has climbed and flown, a mountain goat, pursuing the grand land and salty sea. In all of this, she has only had herself to rely on,
and a voice of wisdom, found only in the darkest moments. She can be hungry for descent because she understands the reigns of flight. The Capricorn is contained, and yet they are the stitches that thread the stars, the grand mastery of it all. In her spirit wields the resources of the Gods, each of whom have tried and tested her. Through the Capricorn’s shadow, a self portrait is created. It reveals the most powerful triumphs of human kind. Saturn was once where the universe stopped, and all ascension was comprised in Capricorn. For this, the Capricorn is lined in battle stars and stamps of triumph. This shadow can
be menacing for the ill developed Capricorn, one who becomes trapped in a world of darkness, held hostage to her own self induced complexes
and inadequacies. The undeniable component of the shadow is that in its presence it reflects only light. The Capricorn is capable
of wielding both in their starry ascent toward the heavens, an intuitive focus in strategic command, a skilled concentration that gleams fantasy into
reality. The shadow can be lined in
exquisite silver.

-Cherry