the saint in berry

Aria 
fic by museaway with art by Ludicrouslyidiotic

ascent
fic by kevystel with art by strangehats

A Bedtime Story
fic by SociallyAwkwardFox with art by babyblues-art 

The Carnage of the Art
fic by ExorcisingEmily with art by Chloe

Carve your own shape
fic by halfeatenmoon with art by hernameisboxcar

Crystal in Winter Sunlight 
fic by Utlaginn with art by Johanna

essentially a chess game
fic by hellodeer with art by kaerb

From Afar, I Came to Love You
fic by Set-My-Heart-on-Fire (Speary) with art by Jack

Golden Days
fic by mairieux

Gotta Work For It! Spring in Saint Petersburg
fic by Black_Tailed_Gull (ExpatGirl) with art by berry

a hand like yours to take mine
fic by kixboxer with art by skom714

Happily Every After 
fic by Wolferfly with art by Fatcat91

i will possess your heart 
fic by lazulisong with art by gabeseductivetrickster

I’ll take in stride, the consequences of falling
fic by staccatic

Indeed There Will Be Time
fic by Zaphodsgirl with art by Scheissedraws

La Rambla Beneath the Moon
fic by thislovelymaelstrom with art by artfullymarcelle

Leave What’s Heavy
fic by Violetcarson with art by Victornikiforofu

the merry-go-round of life
fic by fireblazie with art by tourloos

Of Loving Katsuki Yuuri
fic by Kireiflora 

Once Upon a Brat
fic by Cait with art by Nas

Phantom
fic by Lilit Nikiforov with art by Kora

Rhapsody in Blue
fic by jacksqueen16 with art by Whimsy

sing, sweet nightingale
fic by emma with art by rock

Song As Old As Rhyme
fic by nomical with art by penguinplushie

The Song Inside of Me 
fic by cutthroatpixie with art by cymeteria-pencils

Starry Eyes and Galaxy Minds
fic by fangirling-feels  with art by krazieblazie 

Stay Close to Me
fic by RipUpTheEnding with art by FeatherGrave/subtextiel 

Supernatural On Ice
fic by Tennyo with art by Heartmurmur

To Divide Is Not To Take Away 
fic by Angel with art by Jace

Twisted
fic by thebloggerbloggerfun with art by bagyoborn

Vicchan by my side
fic by whichstiel with art by giraffe-in-the-box

A Vote For Me Is a Vote For Love
fic by vicnikiforovs

The World Opened With You 
fic by DiAnna44 with art by nikniak

You Don’t Have to Be Cool (To Rule My World)
fic by Suaine with art by Berry

You Set My Heart on Fire
fic by whelvenwings with art by sporel

open.spotify.com
Night Terrors
Night Terrors, an album by Matt Berry on Spotify

MATT MUSIC MONDAY – NIGHT TERRORS

Matt’s follow up of The Small Hours is now available.  Although it is sold out at Acid Jazz Records, you can still get it from AmazonNIght Terrors features remixes from Clark and Saint Etienne Plus a new version of Lord Above featuring Thomas Walsh of Pugwash.

Dark moon ritual.

Every dark moon, I clean my home and altar. First I remove everything from the surface of my altar and wipe it down with white vinegar, scrubbing away the physical grime as well as any accumulated spiritual debris. I like vinegar for its gentle but firm banishing properties as I intend to keep my altar a place only for friendly and invited spirits.

Afterwards I wash my altar with rosewater to make it a blessed and hospitable place for the spirits again before placing everything back on the altar.

With everything cleaned and ready, I begin my ritual.

Dark moons are a time for working with the Mighty Dead and chthonic spirits. I bring out my bones and locks of fur to feed and reconsecrate them. Dark moons are also a time when we are vulnerable to malevolent forces, so warding and protection is paramount. I cleanse myself with a warding water made from holly leaves. I cast a circle and asperge it with the same water and hang a rowan cross to sain my ritual space. I also wear a silver ring that belonged to my grandmother as a charm for my personal ancestors. I light the candles and burn a homemade incense to call the spirits. The complete recipe for this incense is a secret, but it contains a lot of cedar tips and fir resin.

I watch the candle flame for indications that the spirits have arrived.

I bring my coyote skull to the altar and consecrate it with blessed water and Saint John’s Wort oil. I lay an iron key and dried bittersweet berries on it’s brow, both symbols of the underworld. I thank the ancestors for visiting me, for their continued blessings.

I feed the visiting spirits with offerings of incense, holy water, honey, cream, and cornmeal. Having fasted all day, I share a small loaf of bread that I baked that morning. Much of my practice takes place in the kitchen and involves food, and sharing a meal with the spirits is always a profound and humbling ritual for me.

I have left a tarot card on my altar since the last full moon. The Four of Swords, a card that I drew in my previous reading. Winter months are difficult for me, and the Four of Swords encourages me to rest, conserve strength, and reflect. With this night being the dark moon of the darkest month, I turn even more to the ancestors for power and support. Now I return the card to my deck and preform a new divination to see what advice or messages the Mighty Dead are willing to share for the darkest day and new year.

At the close of my ritual, I leave my offerings on the altar for the Might Dead. I thank the visiting spirits for their guidance and say goodbye, burning yarrow flowers as they go. I release my circle, wash my hands and face with rosewater, then get up, shake out my limbs, and stretch.

Afterwards, I brew myself mullein and mugwort tea and add a few drops of bleeding heart tincture that sends me right to sleep and gives me vivid dreams.

Inside original sin I found the love of a mother/suckling wind grass/pulling life straight from the breast/“you have teeth now” she said/ “you have a tongue now "she hissed/ cover your wailing ears/ pour into the ground /lukewarm earth/ remnants of venus/ sun that whispers straight into my ear "you have a calling now” /she grappled down the streets/cloven hooves/ antlers dangled from her mouth/ there is flesh to sell & flesh to hold
will
you
hold
mine?


Inside the circle of rotten apples I sliced open my stomach/ held my womb high/ sang tragedies/ revolutions/ libations spilling/ from tips of fingers used to pull the stitches/pull the roots up/ hammer down planks/ wood to carry termites/ wood to box up freedom/ silhouettes of a distant moon/ “we don’t believe in that” the voices said /I spray my blood into the audience/ become guttural / arterial/ house beings with
no
parents
to
speak of .


What of this vomit?/ What of this filth /that crushes villages/ I’ve left my door off, hinged my head instead/ feasted on dirt from the garden/ shed myself/ lost my legs/ waded belly deep/ this ruin/these warnings / chewed
open
my
lip.


Mother said “if they say you are poison use it to your advantage ” /mother said “if they brand you a villian, live as villains must suck/ down the traitors/ cage the captors"/ mother said “you are not the victim ”/ mother said “do not be a victim ”/ mother crashed down forests/ writhed underground/ where the angels caught against themselves/mother banged/ broke/ screamed out/ ripped out her wings/ pulled teeth/crushed light to powder/ took it down in shots/ said “being a curse to this world doesn’t have to be bad”/ draped me in vines and/ the wares of scavengers/ pushed her fingers through my flesh and/ sent
me down
the
river.


Here I bask in glory/ here I catch the sun on my cheek/ rub mud against my gums/ sprawl into landscapes/ catch flies covered in vinegar/ spin around in webs/ cocoon inside branches/ come out wrapped in askew bandages/ come out smeared in berry juice/ talking about saints while/ the teacups spin./ Here I am covered in veils/ here I marry scorpions/ they kiss my neck/ I run through the streets at night/screaming warnings/ tug off my blouse/ lay in the cracks of the foundation/ here I become milk/condense against glasses survive/ against the odds/ stay up for centuries picking scabs/ here I have nothing/ to do with original sin/ here I foam in the bathtub/ electrocute in the cellar/ hold my hands above my head/
like
mother
said.


Here I keep the heart she gave me safe/ haunt shipwrecks/ return/ in tides/ dirty and holding the secrets/ of worlds I am a fugitive from/ shining gold/ not raising my head up/ saying:/ “god help me” but sitting/ neck deep in the sand/ with my mouth full/ treading land/choking on air/ not knowing what to do with my hands
looking
everywhere…


Just like in the beginning.

—  Genesis; R. A. M

Limbourg Brothers - Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry. 1412-1416

This picture shows God sitting on his throne surrounded by Seraphs and all of the disrespectful Angels out of thier regular order of ranks out of Heaven and into the firery chaos of Hell. Michael and his angels (depicted as kinghts) fight off the fallen Angels. Satan is shown as the first to fall in.

Very early wake up call today, but I managed to find some coffee before 5am. Now I’m in the City of Sin on my way back to the City of Saints, and I’ve got a “berry upbeet” smoothie in hand. Things are going better than expected.

Here’s a photo of San Diego waking up this morning. She did it way more gracefully than I did.

4

everybody was doing these and i’m a little fish so i decided to do it too??? also i just recently hit 660 followers which is absolutely crazy to me, so yeah!!!! crushes are bolded. hopefully i won’t forget anyone but if i do i suck and feel free to whack me with a potato or smth. super duper special mention to olivia, because she made me. enjoy!!! 

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