Heretical Writings

Seán/21/Ireland/INFP/Whatever else you put in these. Myth, nature and bad times all round. Reblogs at @hereticalreblogs

[hereticalwritings]

Update!

Hello! I am, in fact, still alive! Been a wild few years since I’ve posted writing stuff here, I finished college, I’ll soon be moving, lots of stuff happening around here. 

I don’t know if anyone still looks at this ever, but I do still write things! They’re just very different from the things I used to write, and I’m getting paid for them now! You can find my epic games journalism at https://cogconnected.com/2021/05/upcoming-bethesda-title-starfield/, and many more posts over the next little bit! 

[valtsv]

legolas: *statement in elvish*

aragorn: *annoyed retort, also in elvish*

legolas: *disbelieving reply, still in elvish*

aragorn: THEN I SHALL DIE AS ONE OF THEM!!!

the rest of the men in helm’s deep:

[hereticalwritings]

Brewing update! I’ve got everything bottled and sealed away, hopefully in 2 weeks time I’ll have something almost drinkable.

[hereticalwritings]

I’ve been focusing my writing efforts elsewhere for a bit, so I guess for now I’ll be using this blog to chronicle my experiment with home brewing.

Hopefully in a few weeks’ time this’ll be a large amount of something alcoholic - whether or not it’s actually good remains to be seen. I’ll be keeping it nice and toasty for the next few days, then hopefully start bottling it next Tuesday for the second fermentation stage.

[englisce-naman]

Reġnfriþ ᚱᛖᚷᚾᚠᚱᛁᚦ [rejnvriθ] ‘mighty-peace’

[hereticalwritings]

Wildered from the fire now,

The byrnie cut and shed -

Pale fetters left among the ash.

  From heavy hex-sleep freed,

The thorn pulled loose

And from its crimson resin marked

The magicks on blade and cup,

On nail and knuckle, palm and

Heel.

  Without sleep-thorn and

Chain-mail binding,

Draughts of memory overfill.

[hereticalwritings]

Follow us down the witchwood’s paths,

Where axe and lantern clear no trail.

Iron circles ring around and rust

Beneath the morning dew.

Sawdust feeds the crooked root

And from ash rise the asphodel.  

[hereticalwritings]

Nice

[tolkienillustrations]

Maedhros did deeds of surpassing valour by Jenny Dolfen “Maedhros did deeds of surpassing valour, and the Orcs fled before his face; for since his torment upon Thangorodrim his spirit burned like a white fire within, and he was as one that returns from the dead.” — Of the Ruin of Beleriand

[hereticalwritings]

Where will the bones rest when dusk comes along?

World wearied and crow-picked, in sunset

Bleached and tinged with twilight-rose,

Petals let fall where they will.

Soon the jaw and orbit will twist

And strain with hazel,

Borne to the dusk by the witch-tree’s rising.

[hereticalwritings]

Here in mourning frost-clad midnight

Lost in dreaming

Lies the dreamer, drawn to her

 There the midday dances call me

From the story,

Absent storytellers lie.

 There is no twilight to escape to,

No more resting,

But the midnight’s dying song.

[hereticalwritings]

Where fall the wilds now

When hunters lay caged

And prey are left fallow?

Where strikes the lightning

With deepwood lain low?

 The dark once was fierce and unquiet,

Ever-raging,

The night once was filled with the

Terrible beasts.

 The Hunt once ran rampant.

The horns blared aloud.

[hereticalwritings]

Shall we dance the hart-home hollow?

Shall we turn the twilit glade?

Through the night, the dawn’s

Red rise not heeded, the burning dusk

Let fall

 The sunset-wreathed and crowned stag

In midnight clad, the starlit doe

 Goddess-blessed beneath the eaves.

[hereticalwritings]

There where the dusts blow,

Dusk-dulled dreamers sigh and

Bare-winged birds take flight.

  Drowned in ash of wrath

And rapture, red in revel-led

And ravaged flame,

Burnt in sunset-gold the host

In muted motley clad

Still grasp the guttered ember.

  The once-raged inferno now charred.

[janainaart]

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

Illustration made for The Enchanted Forest Fantasy Art Book. Art inspired by the poem (La Belle Dame sans Merci) by John Keats.

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janaina.net

[multiversitycomics]

David Mazzucchelli’s title pages from Daredevil- Born Again.

[hereticalwritings]

There is a certain thunder that,

When distant heavens call,

Will sound to lonely shores and echo.

  There are orchids trapped down deep,

Their soils untilled and peaceful,

And lost to parching season.