forgotten graveyards

Dead Amongst the Living

Winchester Sister Fic

TRIGGER Warnings: Mentions of self harm and suicide, light blood, family sad Fluff.

A/n: This was written because I kind of needed it. Then somebody requested something like this so I guess it’s for us both.

Tags:  @Freaksforthewin , @thewinhunter, @cambriacaneatnoodles, @brokennoone , @youtubehelpsmesurvive , @chrisevansthedoritobastard , @winchesters-favorite-girl , @we-know-a-little-about-a-lot @godh8salyssa   @dean-baby-Winchester  @straightasdeanwinchester @animexchocolate @fabulouslycassie @lizbeth-loves-bobear @nicolesyneah25 @lucifer-in-leather

Originally posted by hunterchesters

The sun beat down like no other on this day. Surly Hell would’ve been a cooler setting than this. Mornings were cool enough that a jacket was tolerable and nobody would question its use. By afternoon, the sun heated Earth’s surface to a crisp 120 degrees. Leaving long sleeved coverage out of the question, and your arm openly exposed.

A loud voice caught you off guard. Causing your arm to fumble over and knock over your upright bottle of cover-up.

“Come on, pipsqueak. You need to eat before we hit the road.” Dean called out for you.

“Y-yeah. Be out in a sec!” You shouted back best you could, making sure he could hear behind the closed door you sheltered yourself with.

Wiping what little bit of your makeup spilled, you began to slowly apply it around the edges of the many shades of red lines. Some puffed up from irritation and swelling. Those you just applied the makeup directly on. The thicker more open markings only got cover up around its bright red edges, doing your best to hide the coloring without further irritate anything.

You placed a hand on your hip, purposely turning your wrist outward to see how noticeable it all was from a natural distance. As long as neither of your brothers asked for a close inspection, you’d be in the clear. Just for safe caution you rolled the sleeves down on your red and black printed flannel before unlocking and heading out the bathroom door.

“Now we know what was taking you so long.” Dean spoke with a piece of freshly cooked bacon in his hand. “You were putting on your other face.” He smiled before taking a pleased bite from the greasy food.

Ha ha ha, very funny. Almost as funny as the other five billion times you’ve made that joke.” Casually you walked over to the table and sat in front of your plate, right beside Dean to his left and directly across the table from Sam.

“Dude, she’s a teenager. What’d you expect?” Sam chuckled lightly. Giving you a smirk and a sarcastic eye.

Everything was going well. Normal. Like any other Sunday or time before the three of you would set out for a hunt. Pancakes so fluffy you were sure Dean used clouds to create them. Bacon so crisp you wondered whether Cas had a hand in cooking them quickly. Coffee perfect brewed to satisfy each bite you took and used the beverage to wash it all down with. There wasn’t any need to worry about anything. Both of your brothers were oblivious to your recent actions. Nobody suspected a thing. Up until Sam reached across the table and grabbed your arm.

Woah.” He lowly grunted in shock as you instantly pulled your left arm away from him. “You were about to get syrup on your shirt. I was going to roll the sleeve up for you.” Sam defended himself, still slightly shocked at your reaction.

“No-no it’s fine. I’ll be more careful.” You spoke with your head low, pushing down your sleeve only slightly to readjust yourself.

“Let me see it.” Dean demanded in a stern tone. His gaze practically burning into your skull.

“See what?” Shying away you stabbed into another slice of your pancake, twirling it around in the syrup. Only to be stopped just before you could put the food into your mouth. “Dean I-” his grip forced your arm closer to him as he unintentionally dug into the bottom half of the deepest cut.

His eyes softened instantly. Yet hardened all the same. Hurt and anger seemed to fill ever corner of his eyes. The top base of his finger ran over the bright red coloring on the outside of the straight diagonal lines, causing you to wince at the fresh pain. Slowly he trailed down the line. Starting from newest to oldest. Some old. Others not so old.

“How long have you been doing this again?” He spoke softly, trying to push down the lump at the out of his throat.

“Does it matter? I’m not dead so just leave the situation alone.” Rotating your shoulder backwards you took control of your arm once more. Reeling it in and slipping the sleeve back over the graveyard of forgotten feelings. But all the while you didn’t speak. And you didn’t dare make any form of eye contact with either of them.

“Leave the situation alone? So what? You expect us to sit by and watch our baby sister do this to herself all over again?” The anger in Dean’s voice was clear, and it only made you scoff. Making him more mad. “So you see this as a joke?”

“I see this as it’s none of your damn business.” You soar unintentionally at him. The tone you gave off sounded much harsher and cold than you expected it to.

“We all need to take a deep breath and calm down. Fighting isn’t going to help anything.” Sam held up his hands to show he didn’t mean to anger either of you more. “I thought we were passed all this.” He directed all his well balanced and surprisingly calm attention to you.

“Guess we’re not.” You spoke before shoving a bite full of food into your mouth. Still refusing to make eye contact with either of them.

“You need to stop. It’s not okay to be doing this to yourself. If I need to hide every damn sharp object in here, I will.” Now Dean spoke to you as your father would. Firm and unimpressed. Then again, John wouldn’t have time to deal with this. He never did. “If you don’t stop I’ll strap you down in the basement until you’re over this.” He finished. Instantly your eyes shot up in a fit of painful rage.

“Strapping me down won’t help anything. Hiding everything won’t help either. What do you want me to do here guys?” You we’re speaking loudly, but you weren’t yelling. “This is how I cope with things. When everything gets too hard, I just do it.” A blank stare rested in your face.

“Why?” Sam’s question got you to snap out of your blank trance. “Why do you do it?” The small braking tone in his throat showed his true emotion of tears being withheld.

“It’s better than popping pills and downing it with alcohol.” You shrugged. Feeling numb about the whole situation. “It’s not like I do it for fun. Or for attention. It’s not because I want to.” Glancing over to Dean, you looked straight into his heavy eyes. “It’s so I feel something. Something other than the pain. It’s a different kind of pain, and for some reason it stops me…” pausing, you took your hands in a ball and rested them on your lips. While your elbows rested in the table.

“Stops you from what?” Dean could barley speak, but it was the outgoing breath that pushed his words.

“When I do it…” you sighed, closing your eyes in a rolling manner for a second. “it’s to stop me from ending it. From just committing totally to ending my life. Because I will. I know I will.” Now your own personal lump formed in your throat. “I hate living with this Sammy.” Tears began to fall vigorously.

Dean reached over to you. Grabbing your hand and holding tight, as though you were leaving him. Maybe it was the thought of waking up to his kid sister dead on the floor that shook his core. But it showed in his eyes which could no longer hold back tears.

“You’re not alone, Y/n. Us. Cas. We’re all here for you.” Sam was standing behind you now, rubbing your unsteady back. “We’re going to find a way to help you fight this. Because there’s no way in hell you’re walking this road without both of us beside you.”

“And we’re certainly not loosing you to this battle.” Dean added in, wiping the few single tears from his cheek. “You’ve fought against The Devil. Hell, you even took on his aunt. If you can kickass like that, you’re going to kick this in the ass too.” His words caused a small smile to appear on your faces. All of you laughed a little. “You’re gonna give em’ hell kid.” Dean squeezed the top of your shoulder as Sam bent down and placed a kiss at the top of your head.

“No,” you placed a hand onto of Deans which still rested in your shoulder, and another on Sam’s which was on your other. “We’ll give em’ hell together.”

A Little of Firewhisky Never Hurt Anyone - A Wolfstar Drabble

Remus giggled as he sprawled over Sirius’ lap who just raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Are you okay there, Moony?”

The four friends; James, Sirius, Peter and Remus, resident pranksters of the Gryffindor House, happily living their sixth year of Hogwarts, had found themselves with a Ogden’s Old Firewhisky bottle. It was still the beginning of the year and although they already had a lot of work they had decided to enjoy the bottle, using the excuse they didn’t want the drink to go bad before they got a chance to try it.

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Lesson 16: Graveyards in Witchcraft - Part 2

By: Mama Bones

Live class date and time: 1/31/2017 at 4pm CST

A.) Legalities: I am ever the paralegal, so I’m going to include this section again. It will be similar to my last class, but I don’t want it to be overlooked or forgotten. Again, the graveyard I mainly work with borders my 3 acre property directly and is not regularly maintained. This allows to me to fudge some rules. HOWEVER- let me lay some groundwork legality clauses for the general witch:
         1.) Do not enter after dark. It is illegal in most states.
         2.) Do not bring glass into the cemetery
         3.) Do not light more than a tea/small votive/prayer candle and always hold the tea candle yourself (do not set on ground)
         4.) It’s best to not disclosure your craft to anyone asking what you’re doing. Just say you’re visiting (and wanted to honor your relative’s memory if a candle is lit)

         5.) ALWAYS do as an employee/pastor/policeman asks. Even if it may be technically legal and they’re just uncomfortable, it’s better to de-escalate the situation and leave. You can either come back at a different time or find a different graveyard.

          6.) Bring flowers to appear more normal! They also make great offerings!
          7.) Do not remove ANYTHING from a gravestone site. Ever. However, do feel free to dispose of obvious trash about the graveyard as a whole (soda cans, food wrappers, cigarette butts, etc.). It’s polite and the spirits will respect you for it.

 I begin by making sure I’m dressed appropriately for the weather. I like to spend at least an hour there, assuming I’m not interrupted and it’s important I don’t get too hot or too cold. 

I frequently bring a light jacket/hoodie in summer regardless though, because spirit work can bring down your temperature sensation in general regardless of the normal ambient degrees outside (i.e. communing with spirits makes you chilly).


I make sure I have all the supplies I’ll need.

I have a small messenger bag/purse I bring. I don’t recommend anything larger. Don’t bring a huge backpack- it’s suspicious. This items include:

           1.) My ritual/communing jewelry (including protective jewelry so I don’t get overwhelmed- protection is still important even when actively seeking out spirits)
           2.) My offerings (I like honey packets, pomegranate seeds, flowers, or a particular incense/oil blend I use for spirit work.)

           3.) A book (I love to read to spirits, especially the children)
           4.) My graveyard pad/blanket (I’ll be doing a tutorial on this soon, but basically it’s a small thicker blanket with discreet sigils and herbs sewn in to protect me and boost spirit communication. Protects my tush from the ground and my body from the spirits).

           5.) Water bottle (talking and reading makes me thirsty)

           6.) Comfy shoes that are easy to slip on and off (you don’t have to take your shoes off at all for spirit work, but I like to as a sign of respect- like taking your shoes off when you go into a friends house. I only do it on my graveyard pad though- not at the entrance or anything)

           7.) My phone- not only for basic communicating in case of emergency, but also because I like to play music for the spirits sometimes. I make sure the songs I want to play are easily accessible.

I also make sure Zoe is ready, as I almost always bring her with me. She is leashed, although I tend not to hold it since she’s well-trained in recall.

           Note: Though I don’t recommend bringing pets unless you’re experienced with both spirits and your pet, I will say if you do bring a dog always have your dog on a leash in a graveyard and don’t let go unless you are alone and you are 100% confident in their recall/non-running away. Keep in mind Zoe is my familiar of 5 years and is comfortable with my graveyard work. She is not skittish in the interactions and is not rude to the spirits.

 When I first enter the graveyard, my first check is if anyone is there. 


Without Privacy: If someone is already in the graveyard, I will do a basic walk around the paths and graves (with Zoe leashed beside me) and do mental check-ins and communication. I may drop pomegranate seeds subtly, but I usually do not do any other offerings while other people are present. In my experience, the spirits understand and know I will bring something next time or wait for the person to leave and give my offerings then.

I will then find a spot to put down my graveyard pad (which just look like a smaller picnic blanket to the average eye). I have a favorite/regular spot in the graveyard by me. I am comfortable doing this even if other visitors are still there, as the spot I sit down isn’t directly atop a grave or anything. It’s a clearing under a tree. I’ll take my book out so I look like I’m just having a nice private read in the graveyard and not offending anyone. At this point, I’ll just read silently/mentally to the spirits (I let them look over my shoulder too if there’s pictures) if visitors do not leave. That’ll be the extent of what I do without privacy.

With Privacy: If the graveyard is empty, my visit is a bit different. I still walk around the path/graves first. This time however, I will verbally greet those I know, leave more substantial offerings and check for new spirits who would like to introduce themselves. I ignore ones that are being rude (they don’t try for long with me with my combo of already friendly spirits and Zoe backing me up). Zoe is loose during this and she does her own initial sweep of the gravestones, having different favorites than me.

After I greet and give the “presents” (offerings) I have, then I settle on my graveyard pad. I still have it under the tree. For a couple reasons. It’s polite, doesn’t show favoritism, and is easier to play off if a visitor does show up in the midst of my communing. Zoe usually settles down near me eventually, but frequently she does more checking around while I start the “activities” (she likes to check the graveyard border for energy and critter issues).

If there’s particular ritual work I have planned for this trip, I do that first. This includes, but is not limited to:
           1.) Ritually appointing new spirits for workings/property protection

           2.) Doing an Underworld astral travel with some of the spirits

           3.) Doing a devotional for Hades, Persephone, or Styx.

After that, it’s time for the bonding/fun activities! I break out the book and phone. I usually start with the book while the spirits are still more “focused” (their attention span is not great in my experience). I will do either a picture/children’s book or a chapter of a more all-ages book that we’ve been working through. I don’t bring anything too complex or “dry” (i.e. boring) as they lose interest quickly. Some titles I’ve found they enjoy:
           1.) The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman- yup, spirits love irony

           2.) Anything by Roald Dahl
           3.) Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (or other silly yet ghost-y stories)- yup, they find them hilarious. I avoid darker scary/ghost stories since I work with a lot of young and child spirits. They don’t like things that are too dark.
           4.) The Velveteen Rabbit (this is a favorite of mine too)
           

 Then the music is broken out. I have no specific suggestions on this- it’s entirely personal to what you think will please your particular ghosties. I do a wide variety. Usually during this, the spirits will tell me things they think I need to hear or talk about something that bothers them. Zoe frequently romps around with the younger spirits at this point too. Sometimes I bring a ball or frisbee to amuse her and the children.

 Then I just clean everything up, making sure I’m not leaving anything behind I don’t intend to. I’ll sort of meander my way out of the graveyard slowly and give the shyer spirits a chance to ask me something quietly/alone that they were unsure of during the more group communing.

 Once I get home, I run a hot shower or bath with cleansing herbs/oil and give myself a thorough cleaning, asking for Styx’s blessing in making sure no shade residue/miasma remains on me or in my house.

 Then I eat. It’s important to consume something of nutritional value after doing spirit work.

Any questions?

you are a graveyard
holding forgotten names and dead memories
under the marble of your skin

here, where she kissed you
here, where he held you
here, where they shot bullets through you


here, where her breath used to dance
          where his fingers used to wander
          where their scopes used to travel


she lies dead under a cold grey headstone now–
     beloved mother and wife and someone else’s lover
he lies frozen in some forgotten ravine now–
     no markers, no name, just the yearly snow and some animal tracks.
they lie under street corners and in history books now–
     in cemeteries and battlefields, in masoleums and dirt pits


and you?
you who cheated death
only to carry him like a cross on your shoulders?


you hold their histories like fossils
like dead things eternally encased in stone
frozen, immutable, unerasable
carved in your bones and branded on your skin


you are a museum of decades past
a memorial to wars gone by–
and oh, did you forget?
only dead things live in museums and memorials


the living always pass through
never stay
just wandering visitors with wide eyes
and beating hearts
and bated breaths


and yet
     you
          are
               stuck

—  are you more alive or dead? (j.p.)

girl-d0ll  asked:

Can you give examples on how to experience girlhood? The kind of girls who want to be witches, who wear lace and silk, who put rose water on their wrists like holy water perfume💖

you’ve given a few lovely examples already, but i will try to add more:

  • find your haunting grounds. it could be a library corner, a shady tree, a cornfield graveyard, a forgotten water fountain where mossy green pennies have forgotten how to shimmer. bless it in your chosen perfume (rosemary, citrus vanilla, lavender and hops). make it your totem place, the monument where your ghost returns.
  • be giving and gracious. give little gifts for others to remember you by. remember that not everything you own belongs to you. your friend compliments an aquamarine ring you can’t even remember buying? maybe it’s meant for her hand instead. the dress hanging in your closet that you admire but rarely wear? someone will come across its beauty on a thrift store rack and take it home to give it the attention you could not. 
  • shelves and dressers and medicine cabinets are spaces where your soul rests. keep them as clean or as chaotic as the music in your heart. there is no right way to keep your bedroom. a little mess never hurt anyone, but make occasional great events out of cleaning. play your favorite music, burn sage, light every candle at once. 
  • keep small, interesting objects in your pockets or bags. a ticket from one of your favorite concerts, a pebble from a stream, a small “bang snap” firework
  • metamorphosize often, but only for yourself. 

Imagine Giorno asking about his ancestry.

A little bit about Jonathan, but not much– there are others who would retell his story far more willingly and with a fair bit less bias. He wants to know who the Brandos were, and Dio makes a big show of not telling him, saying he has forsaken those ties and it would do Giorno well to forget them. Giorno, of course, has ways of getting what he wants, and wears him down in clever, somewhat manipulative ways.

He doesn’t learn much about Dario (a drunk, a mess, but that much clues his son in on the kind of life he lead). Far more interesting is learning about his grandmother, and how divided Dio is speaking of her, sounding like he’s pledging fondness and then denouncing the very idea he could be fond of anybody right after, but it tells Giorno what he needs to know.

Her grave, worn and nearly impossible to tell from the rest of the stones in her forgotten modern day graveyard, becomes overladen with flowers with a note that says ‘per mia nonna’.

5SOS as: planets → calum as: neptune
 calum as neptune is the feeling of cool water sliding down your back like silk, he is the shadows that shift and take on a life of their own as the moon dips in and out from behind the clouds. as neptune he is the quiet shift of pebbles under your feet, the haunting peaceful quiet of forgotten graveyards, abandoned playgrounds, train stations after 3am. neptune connects you with your sense of intuition, it guides you towards consciousness, and calum is the hand that slips around your waist to lead you down unknown streets, he is kisses pressed to the nape of your neck to wake you in the middle of the night just to ask if you believe a soul can be destroyed. neptune symbolises the dreamer and the artist, and calum is the stinging scent of paint that clings to fingertips, the thrum of a guitar chord that passes through your bones, a single note sung out that seems to break your heart with its loneliness. neptune is also associated with addiction, with denial, and calum is the dull fire of alcohol that makes you veins feel like taught wires trapped beneath your skin. he is eyes held tight shut even when light pools onto his face and refusing to acknowledge it is morning. neptune is the retreat into fantasy to avoid reality, and calum is perilous and ephemeral, secluded and ethereal.