🥀▽ Lil Siren Boy ▽🥀

Hello, and welcome.

I’m a male Estonian folk witch, the owner of Thorn & Iron Apothecary and a future author. Most of my daily updates live over on Instagram, but I wanted to carve out a space here for longer posts: articles I’ve written, published pieces, and other parts of my creative portfolio.

My work is rooted in Estonian folklore and mythology, though I also hold a strong passion for the folk magic of Poland. This blog will be a place where those interests meet, mix, and grow into something deeper.

Banishing isn’t really the issue — they’ve stopped reaching out in the physical world through mundane means (aka “stop contacting me about this” texts that finally went through) — but energetically, I keep clearing their gunk away and multiple cord cuttings, shieldings, and banishings just don’t stick once the person starts obsessing and unconsciously reaching back out again.

Binding can be done on someone's energies and attentions through any normal binding means, e.g. a knot spell.

Option B would be a stay-at-home. This includes large witches bottles, proper wards, decoys etc.

A simple carry-on that I’ve employed is a hand felted bag that was infused with juniper branch tea instead of water while I felted it. I was also using my own handmade Castile soap for the process.

This bag was then filled with salt of the opposite color of the bag, as my bag is blue I went with pink salt that I smoked with juniper as well.

As this all came together I said my intention over it in the form of a spell, which just amounted to me saying that all negative influences will be sucked into it, instead of into me. You could also add a taglock of yourself into it.

This form of charm should be rebound every once in a while when the smokey smell of Juniper starts to fade.

While I haven’t given any specific spells or rituals to you, I do hope you find some ideas from this, as I think inspiration is one of the best witching tools.

I’ve been seeing a reemergence of the narrative that everyone is “a witch deep down” or “there’s witchcraft in all of us” this just isn’t the case and never has been. While the opportunity is available to everyone…

Not everyone will or should take it.

Witch-fire is not passed down in the blood.

It is not a gift that lies dormant in every soul, waiting to be stirred.

Folklore and history, the ways recorded in stories and confessions, say otherwise:

The powers of the witch are not innate.

They are taken, offered, or bought.

And the price is always high.

Sometimes you are tempted,

sometimes you are desperate,

and sometimes you are simply lured to say yes.

Catherine Remy of Belgium in 1603, said the Devil came to her when she was in need. He offered her power, not with force, but a touch to the forehead and chest, freely accepted. After that, she could heal, curse, and know things no ordinary person should.

(Van Haverbeke, Les procès de sorcellerie à Tournai, 1895)

In 1579, Jeanne Harvilliers of France said a dark figure came to her at night and gave her oil and powder. She rubbed it on herself and flew through the air, transformed, and brought harm to those who wronged her. She said she served him in exchange for those powers.

(Jean Bodin, De la démonomanie des sorciers, 1580)

William Barton of Scotland, said he met a woman in the woods who gave him a new name and scratched a mark into his skin. after that, he could see what others could not. he renounced his baptism and gave her his soul.

(Pitcairn, Criminal Trials in Scotland, vol. 3)

This is the witch-fire.

The black flame.

The crooked gift.

It is not within you by birth, though there are those who are oil-blooded, born to burn.

The ones that are called to this dark art and are sought after by the witching spirits, those who can smell the petroleum flowing within.

But for the fire, you go out to find it.

You trade for it.

You are engulfed by it.

And the cost?

Your name, your soul. Your place in the world as it was.

This is one of the reasons why the witches of the past were feared, because this path didn’t happen to them, they chose it. They had given themselves over to the spirits, to the night, to the woods. They weren’t forced to do it, they made a conscious decision to accept it.

You aren’t born a witch.

You become one, when you say yes to the fire

I also 100% stand by the idea that not everyone can or should take the opportunity. I love what I do and I couldn't imagine myself doing anything else, but this is not the optimal situation for the vast majority of people.

I understand why some might feel the urge to reject, question, or even mock the idea that someone can be born a witch. The claims of being a “cradle witch,” “blood witch,” or “witch by lineage” often come across as self-aggrandizing, especially when such claims can’t be proven. It’s easy to see how these titles, when worn like badges of superiority, may feel pretentious or exclusionary. But I’d like to offer a different perspective, one drawn from Estonian folklore and mythology, which suggests a far more complex and older truth: that some witches are indeed born not made.

Much of our early Estonian mythology has been lost, but the fragments that remain point to a deep-rooted duality in how witches were understood. Terms like nõid and tark once marked a distinction between harmful and beneficial practitioners. Over time, and particularly due to the forceful spread of christianity and the accompanying witch-hunts, these terms became conflated. All practitioners, whether healers, seers, or spellcasters, were lumped into the same dangerous category.

Because of this, much of the folklore that has survived is tainted by christian interpretations, festivals, and doctrines. Still, echoes of the older worldview persist. One recurring motif in folklore is the belief that certain children are born marked by their fate. For instance, a child born with teeth or with a full head of hair was often said to be destined to become a witch. While modern circles may dismiss such ideas, these motifs were once taken seriously.

An especially eerie sign was the birthmark known as koolja kindad - “gloves of the dead”when remnants of the placenta covered the child’s hands. Such children were believed to be fated for a short life, but this belief isn’t directly tied to witches. Still, it illustrates how birth itself was once viewed as a moment when the veil between worlds could reveal truths about one’s destiny.

Christian influence didn’t stop at rebranding witches, it altered the perception of how one is born as well. Fridays, once sacred in Estonian folk belief as days of fertility and fortune, were recast as unlucky. Christian folklore introduced the idea that a child breastfed on three “good fridays” would become a witch. Similar superstitions appeared around other holidays connected to their god’s suffering, showing how old beliefs were overwritten but not fully erased.

Yet beyond these christianized notions lies a more enduring thread: the idea that witchcraft runs in families. In Estonia, many witches believe their power to be inheritedt through the passing down of knowledge, spells, and charms. This transmission was almost always oral. Though a handful of written spells have survived, most teachings were passed from parent to child, spoken in kitchens and forests, not scribbled into grand grimoires. And if a witch died without passing on their knowledge, folklore says they could not rest, either lingering painfully or taking their secrets to the grave, lost forever.

Family lineage plays a central role in Estonian witchcraft. Written accounts highlight how important these lines of transmission were, and how uniquely egalitarian they could be. Unlike neighboring cultures that often passed knowledge along gendered lines, Estonian witches seemed less bound by such structures. Knowledge could skip generations, cross gender boundaries, or flow between equals. There are even stories of witches who refused the gift or forgot the words.

These witches of lineage are often the ones most sought after in Estonia. And yes, I speak from personal experience. I am, in some way, a cradle witch myself. My grandmother read playing cards. My mother worked with herbs, symbols, and candles - all the tools of our folk practice, we had a serpent as a family familiar. The path was always there. I only began consciously walking it about a year ago, after years of eclectic practice.

I know the original poster, whose comments sparked this reflection, seems to walk an eclectic path as well. That’s valid. Many of us draw from various traditions, weaving together a practice that feels personal and true. But eclecticism sometimes blurs the line between historical grounding and unverified personal gnosis (UPG). And while personal experience is powerful, we must be cautious when drawing broad conclusions from it.

I understand the impulse behind the post, the frustration when someone claims to be more powerful, more “real,” because of a supposed birthright or past life. This kind of spiritual elitism deserves scrutiny. The esoteric community has its fair share of frauds and snake oil peddlers. Many claim ancient grimoires or bloodline magic to sell an image or a product. Skepticism is not only healthy but necessary.

My mention of it was brief so I can see how it was easy to miss, but my post is not about how no one can be born into a lineage or into circumstances that lead them towards witch-hood.

I’m specifically calling out the trend that “everyone is a witch, you just have to remember you are” motif or the “I come from an ancient line of wicca” cosplayers.

Your original post clearly states that witches are not born, and it goes into considerable depth citing witch-hunt records and confessions to support that claim. My intention was simply to offer a different perspective - one rooted in a culture where witches are, in fact, often considered to be born rather than made. I wasn’t trying to challenge your personal practice or invalidate your points, only to add a viewpoint that reflects a different tradition.

Your post, as I understand it (and please correct me if I’m wrong), is written from the perspective of the Devil playing a central initiating role. That worldview shapes the path you're speaking from. In contrast, Estonia doesn’t have deities or devils in the same way. While some mythological beings may now be labeled as gods, they did not begin that way, and none serve as initiators into witchcraft. The only connection between the Devil and witches in Estonian folklore comes from christian dogma, which most Estonian witches reject outright.

So to reiterate: my response was meant to highlight a cultural context in which witches do not make pacts with devils or gods to become witches - they simply are. Some are born that way, some become witches because of the circumstances of their birth, and others are changed by forces that have nothing to do with deity or pact. That doesn't contradict your path, but it does challenge the idea that there is only one way.

I shared my perspective not to dismiss yours, but to broaden the conversation. I did also condemn the people that you condemned in my original post. I even quoted your oil-blooded witches in the last paragraph.

Five thousand years ago, the Sumerians called the night ngi, the stars mul, and the moon Nanna.

Four thousand years ago, the Akkadians called the night mūšu, the stars kakkabū, and the moon Sîn.

Three thousand years ago, the Hittites called the night išpanza, the stars haštereš, and the moon Arma.

Two and a half thousand years ago, the Greeks called the night nux, the stars astra, and the moon Selênê.

Two thousand years ago, the Romans called the night nox, the stars stellae, and the moon Luna.

Kings and queens and heroes looked up at them. So did travelers coming home, and little children who sneaked out of bed. So did slaves, and mothers and soldiers and old shepherds, and Sappho and Muršili and Enheduanna and Socrates and Hatshepsut and Cyrus and Cicero. In this darkness it didn’t matter who they were, or where they stood. Only that they were human.

Think of that tonight, when you close your window. You are not alone. You share this night sky with centuries of dreamers and stargazers, and people who longed for quiet. Are you anxious? The Hittites were too: they called it pittuliyaš. Does your heart ache? The Greeks felt it too: they called it akhos. Those who look up to the stars for comfort are a family, and you belong to them. Your ancestors have stood under Nanna, Sîn, Arma, Selênê and Luna for five thousand years. Now its light is yours.

THE GREEK DEITY HEKATE IS NOT THE WICCAN TRIPLE GODDESS

let me repeat

THE GREEK DEITY HEKATE IS NOT THE WICCAN TRIPLE GODDESS

Let me teach you a thing, folks.

So you’ve got this ancient Greek deity, Hekate. And She’s responsible for witchcraft, necromancy, the night, crossroads, some associations with wayfinding and dogs, etc. She’s also scary as fuck. None of this “harm none” bullshit; the brand of witchcraft She presides over is quite simply using witchcraft to destroy people who deserve to be destroyed. Rah rah curses, rah rah FUCKING NECROMANCY, all of that.

She’s also a virgin deity. Let me repeat that. Virgin deity. Maiden. Not mother. Not crone. Maiden. Period. There’s some UPG out there that She’s got a bit of a thing going with Hermes, but even then. Not mother. Not crone. 

She is also not literally triplicate. Let me show you a picture.

Bam. Hekate. You see the torches? Hekate. You see how She’s not pregnant and not old? VIRGIN DEITY.

Let me show you some more pictures. Fucking ancient pictures. Because, you know, this is an ancient deity you’re running your mouths about. She existed long before you were able to portray Her as pregnant and barefoot and peaceful on the internet.

Here She is SETTING A MOTHERFUCKER ON FIRE. Note how there’s still one of Her and She’s not old or pregnant.

And here She is again on the left, SETTING A MOTHERFUCKER ON FIRE with Her torches. Yeah, real love and light. More like, She loves to light motherfuckers on fire. Notice again how there’s ONE of Her and She’s a young woman without pregnancy.

Are you getting the picture yet? Is it beginning to sink in yet that She’s not your precious fluffy Triple Goddess and she sure as hell isn’t a mother goddess or a crone? Are you beginning to realize being all-loving and all-light and “don’t cause harm, guys” is NOT HER FUCKING JOB?

Now let me show you where you fucking ignorant history-hating uneducated peasants got this “triple Goddess” idea from.

Hekate is the Goddess of Crossroads. As in literal street intersections. And ancient Greeks fucking loved to put statues out to watch over shit like that. Look up what a Herm is sometimes. It’s literally Hermes’ head and a dick. And they put that thing FUCKING EVERYWHERE. Ancient Greeks loved that shit.

So sometimes they set up statues of Hekate to watch over crossroads. And they needed some way to show She can watch over all the crossroads at once. So they sculpted three statues instead, so no matter which road you were coming from, Hekate would be watching you.

You see this? THIS IS CALLED A FUCKING METAPHOR.

First, note right off the bat the statues are identical. One isn’t pregnant and one isn’t old. THIS IS NOT A MAIDEN/MOTHER/CRONE IMAGE. Because Hekate is not a crone deity or a mother deity.

THERE ARE ALSO NOT LITERALLY THREE OF HER. THIS IS A METAPHOR. It symbolizes that She’s watching all roads. It’s like how in sculpture Moses is depicted with two spikes on his head. Is it saying he LITERALLY has horns? NO. It’s a metaphor for a fucking halo.

METAPHOR, YOU IGNORANT BABOONS. FUCKING METAPHOR.

Wanna learn about THIS Hekate? OUR Hekate? I recommend this page.

Y'all are welcome to worship a Maiden/Mother/Crone trio. That’s your right. You can even call her Hecate or Hekate or fucking Snoopy for all I care. But it’s not the same deity as OUR Hekate. Not if it’s a peace-loving, “harm none” promoting, love and light spouting, baby-birthing, old age looking Triple Goddess.

You might as well say that Ares, MALE god of being MALE, is the Triple Goddess too. It just doesn’t work like that.

A remembrance post for Persephone’s verse in Chant II throughout the productions, because it was unfairly CUT and deserves all the appreciation. #rip

Lyrics for each version under the cut:

Queen of Peace - Florence + the Machine

Towards the Forest II, 1915, Edvard Munch