#like so are ghosts not the soul of a person?

[lalchimiedecupid]

it's all fun and games until I start hating you and I hit you with a large ass essay that expresses my frustration and exhaustion with your neglect and the hurt you've caused me.

Exemple:

To my dearest boy who broke my heart and left it to pieces with one missing shard in hand that keeps it from healing:

Love. A vile and twisted thing you remain in my eyes. For I have never loved someone and got to keep them in my heart for all eternity. It seems like the universe, God, have odd ways of pulling their strings when it comes to love, slow, torturous and often unexpected goodbyes grace us at the end.

It's been six months since you left me. Six long and excruciating months, and I can not put into words the disdain I feel towards you. Yet, I find myself staring longingly at you, find my heart racing at your mere sighting. You've become a dependency of mine, destructive yet fulfilling like the crimson drink I drown myself in. Like the pills I abused my body, my organs and my mind with. You'd bring me a sense of Euphoria, but what did it leave me with once your presence was gone? Pain. So much pain I can not even manage to put it into words. You were my oxygen. My will. My life. My sin and my soul. You were all that I needed. You were all that I wanted and still want even more. What should I call it? Soulmates who were never meant to be? Right person wrong time? Strangers to friends, friends into lovers and what now, strangers again? How low do I have to stoop down in order to make you want me again? I know you still want me, I can see it in your lingering eyes, yet you offer me silence and silence all over again. What did you do to me? What more could you possibly want from me? How much do you want to see me beg and try to make it up to you for all the hurtful words you've heard from my friends? How many "I'm sorry" do you want to hear fall from my lips and seem to always land onto deaf ears? What more do you want from me? Why do you ignore me again when you promised to be my friend? Was I not enough for you? Is it that hard to forget the girl you wanted beforehand? I know I am delusional to hold onto a love that clearly has perished long ago, but please for the love of God, let me cry into your arms for the first and last time so I can truly let you go. Let me sob my heart and guts out to you just for a few moments at least, I do not ask for more. Let me confess my desires , my dreams, my secrets and my pain to you. Even if they shall fall onto those ears of yours that you turn deaf on me every single time I try to get your attention. Let me. Please, allow me this. Let me find solace in your embrace even if it's cold and unwanted. I'd get down on my knees for you and let you kill me with your coldness. Let you freeze my heart and devour it whole if only a piece of me gets to be held by you, my darling boy. You have reduced me to a ghost of the strong woman I once were. And I am ashamed of myself for it, yet I can not even blame you for my downfall, because despite it all, I was an accomplice as well. Destroy me for all you want , I'll always come crawling back to you, with all my broken parts and my gaping wounds, bleeding into your own hands.

Just one last embrace is all I ask of you. I know you'd refuse me more. You cruel bastard. You heartless devil.

Go on and destroy me and watch me build back my pieces only to destroy me again. Go on and ruin me. Go on and put unnecessary distance between the both of us, because you are far too much of a coward to face the truth.

The truth is that you want me but are far too afraid of commitment, of new beginnings that you'd rather stick to the past and hope for the best. Hurt me. Hurt me all you want, but you'd never rebuke me from my church. From my sanctum, from your arms, from your hold. Rebuke me for my sins of loving you but know that I still hold you in high regards, that I still pray for your well-being, for your success, and your future. Know that against all odds..

I still love you.

—C.A

oh to be loved by a poet … 🎀

[starkeynation]

I love you, I’m sorry

A letter from reader to Rafe

Content: Angst, like PURE sad, the lamp looks weird, based on the song I love you, I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams (may or may not be accurate)

A/N: about that cliffhanger and happy ending, I changed my mind… also ignore any writing mistakes if there’s any and this was kinda rushed so I hope it still turns out good

Masterlist

dividers from @anitalenia

Rafe,

It is Saturday night. I should be out doing something, partying or whatever to enjoy myself, yet here i am, pen in hand, finding myself writing to you again. I know this letter will never reach you- it’ll end up crumpled at the bottom of my drawer or burned to ashes. Still, I can’t seem to stop myself.

It has been exactly two august ago since everything fell apart. I remember the way I laid it all out, raw, I wanted to be real, hoping that honesty would mend us. We weren’t perfect. Hell, we were far from it. We fought like fire and gasoline, burning everything we touched. Jealousy leads us to mistrust each other but even then, I didn’t think it would end the way it did. I never thought that fight would be the last..the final, devastating blow before you ghosted me and blocked me everywhere.

I swear it wasn’t my intention to break up with you, I thought by exposing the cracks, we could patch them together. Instead, the truth just ended up pushing you away. When you drove off in your Benz and left me standing at my gate, it felt like everything had stopped. The time, the world, my heart…everything froze. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to scream, I wanted to stop you, beg you to stay, to tell you that we could still save us but you didn’t look back, and i was too late.

Now, i watch you from a distance as you become successful, helping your dad doing business, running Cameron’s development like you were born to do it. I heard your name whispered in admiration at the club where I work, how you charm people the way you trained for. And you know what? I’m so so proud of you Rafe. I always knew you had it in you. I’ll be rooting for you always, even from the shadows.

Maybe two summers from now we’ll be talking again at some point, exchange smiles, our lives untangled and we’re cool again. I can picture you’ll be in your family’s jet, travelling, and me, on my boat moving on with our own lives. By then, i hope..im actually ready to move on. I know you’ve already moved on- I mean, why wouldn’t you? Still, there’s part of me wish that you wouldn’t yet, and maybe, just maybe, you would take me back.

But that’s just selfish isn’t it? I was selfish when we were together too. I made everything about me, i was inconsiderate, I turn something small into raging battles. I didn’t listen, didn’t see you for who you were. I’m ashamed of the person I was, of the mistakes I made. After everything i did, I’m surprised you haven’t send someone to kill me yet.

Lately I find myself sitting on the porch, watching sunsets like we used to, with a glass of something strong in my hand. I laugh at myself, at the crash I made, because what else can I do? It’s a twisted kind of coping—laughing at my own heartbreak. It doesn’t feel real and it’s really hard to let go but i guess that’s just the way life goes.

I know i was a dick, Rafe. I had too many flaws to count but as sick as it sounds, I loved you first. You’ll always be my first love. You were the best and the worst thing that ever happened to me, a storm that left me shattered but alive. Your love had impact me deeply, it is carved in my soul. No matter where we are, i want you to know that I’ll carry the past and the weight of my mistakes with me. Trust me, it will always, haunt me.

I regret every second for not treating you well, for not being the person you needed. Lastly, i want you to know that I still, truly, deeply, love you, I’m sorry.

*Ding* you heard the bell rings. You rush downstairs to answer the door.

“Pizza delivery”, says the delivery boy standing in front of you. You almost forgot you ordered one, an hour ago. You take your prepaid alfredo chicken pizza and thank him. It was Rafe’s favourite pizza, you’re not sure if it’s still his favourite though. After shutting the door, you walk to your kitchen.

Just two seconds later, *ding* the bell rings again. Did the delivery boy forget anything? You thought.

You open the door, “yes-“ you pause. You couldn’t believe it, standing right in front of you,

“Topper?”

“Topper what are you doing here?” you ask, your voice laced with confusion.

He then steps aside and reveals a man behind him, lying on the steps of your porch- a man whose silhouette you’d recognize anywhere. “Rafe,” you whisper.

“Shit I’m sorry to bother you but this dumbass got into an accident for driving while he’s high,” Topper blurts out, panickly.

Your brow furrowing and your confusion deepens. You walk closer to Rafe and spot the blood dripping from his head, “Accident? What? Then why do you bring him here instead of the hospital?” You ask, your voice sharp, slicing through the chaos of the moment.

“He won’t let me. He insisted I bring him here to see you,” Topper explains.

“Y/n,” Rafe speaks up, his voice low and strained.

Your heart skips a beat. It’s like the universe has stopped spinning again. This is the first time you hear him calling your name after two whole years.

“Hey Rafe, you’re bleeding,” you say, your voice mix with feelings.

“I’m fine,” he says, giving a soft, disarming smile while trying to sit up.

You instruct Topper to go find some cloth to stop the bleeding. As he dissapears, you sit on your knees facing to Rafe, “Rafe, what happened? Why are you here?” you ask, still have no clue of what’s going on here.

“I wanted to see you,” he replies, putting on that damn smile again, the one that’s always managed to unravel you. “I miss you, y/n.”

Your face goes pale, your eyes widens, the words hang in the hair, heavy and unexpected. “Rafe, you’re drunk,” you accuse, trying to make sense of what’s happening right now.

“No, I’m not, i swear I’m very conscious right now,” he insists, his voice firm. You’re still not sure if he’s telling the truth or not. “I really miss you, y/n,” he continues, his voice low but still clear for you to hear it.

Your heart aches, torn between disbelief and the undeniable pull of his words. “How hard did you hit your head? God, you’re still bleeding. We need to see a doctor,” you say, trying to stand up, but he grabs your hand, pulling you back down.

“Stop it, I’m fine i swear…this is nothing,” he says waving off the concern. Just then, Topper returns with a towel in his hand. He hands the towel to you and says, “dude, are you sure you’re okay? When i saw your car there were smokes everywhere. Looks like you hit that tree pretty hard,” his voice fill with concern.

“I’m fine Top, just go. I need to talk to y/n,” Rafe says with a dismissive wave. Topper hesitates, he looks at you for confirmation as if you’re the one in charge here. You nod at him, signalling an approval, “s’okay Top i can handle this.”

“Okay, just call me if anything happens,” he says. “Thank you,” you mutter softly to Topper as he’s leaving towards his car.

With Topper gone, you shift your focus back to Rafe. You take the towel and start dabbing on the blood on his forehead, “we still need to get this stitched up,” you say. Rafe then grabs your wrist, his grip firm but not forceful, “look at me,” he demands.

You look at him straight in the eyes, drowning in his blue eyes. It’s overwhelming- staring at the man that you love but no longer yours.

“I do mean what i said, i miss you y/n and i wanted to see you,” he says, his tone steady and sure.

“But why now?” You ask, your voice breaking under the weight of the question.

“Sar..Sarah told me tonight that you’ve been writing letters about me. She found them stashed under your bed,” he says, hesitantly.

Your stomach drops and you shake your head in disbelief, “God…i knew it there was something wrong. She was acting so weird when she left this morning,” you mutter.

“So it’s true? You’ve been writing about me?”

Your face is turning red, you’re struggling to find the words. “I- yes…I’ve been writing letters. Pretending like I’m gonna send it to you but i never do,” you stutter.

“Why didn’t you just send them?” He presses, his voice low, almost pleading.

“You know why Rafe…you’ve moved on. You blocked me few months after we broke up. You’re thriving now with your job, you got your whole life together, and I- I was the reason why we broke up. I can’t just crawl my way back into your life like nothing happened,” you shatter, your voice breaking as you’re struggling to control your tears.

Rafe shakes his head. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles and kisses it. “You’re wrong y/n, you’re absolutely wrong. I’ve been doing nothing over the past two years except than trying to forget about you. That’s why I’ve been doing all these jobs, thinking it could distract me, but no,” he shakes his head again. “Nothing could make me stop thinking about you.”

His confession leaves you breathless, your tears streaming down your face as he continues. “About the blocking and disappearing, I’m really sorry, I was a coward. The truth is, that day i came to your house to apologize. Then, as I stood outside, i saw you were laughing with jj through your window. I knew you guys were not together cause after jj left, I may or may not have confronted him…” he then mouthed sorry. “But then, I remember the way you looked so happy when you’re with him. At that time, I knew I had to let you go cause you deserve someone better and you deserve to be happy so that’s why I blocked you..as if that makes any difference.”

You idiot,” you scoff. “I never wanted anyone else, only you Rafe, only you. You’re the only one who could truly make me happy.”

His eyes glisten, his smile soft and hesitant. “Please forgive me y/n, I swear I’m a better person now and I love- I love you, so much. I still do.”

You reach up, caress his cheek and pull him in for a kiss. “I love you too Rafe,” you whisper. He cups your face and returns the kiss. The kiss is passionate, slow and tender. His lip is so soft and only god knows how much you miss this. The world fades around you, leaving only the two of you, two broken pieces finding their way back to each other.

You pull away from his face and let out a giggle. “Why are you laughing?” He asks, can’t help but let out a soft giggle too.

“Before you came I was actually writing another letter for you,” you admit, a shy smile appears on your face.

“Oh really? Tell me about it baby,” he smirks. Your smile widens at the sound of the nickname that rolls out from his mouth. “Mm I miss that. You, calling me baby. Anyways, it’s in my room, wanna come in?” You ask.

He shakes his head, pulling you closer as he leans back against the stairs railing. “Hmm in a bit sweetheart, you can tell me here while we stargaze. I missed your porch- and mostly you, of course,” he replies with a faint smile.

So you do. You talk to him about the letter while your head rest on his shoulder and your fingers intertwined. “Lastly I wrote, I love you, I’m sorry,” you say, explaining the last content of the letter. But then, you realise he has gone quiet. His stillness unsettling. You glance up to him, “Rafe?” He’s not responding. You check his pulse but there is none. Panic sets in as you shake him, calling his name.

“Rafe”

“Rafe, wake up”

“Wake up!”

“Wake up!”

“Y/n”

“Y/n”

“Y/n, wake up”

You gasp, your heart is pounding like a drum. You’re sweating all over your body as reality crashes down. It was a nightmare.

“Hey..baby you okay?” You turn your head to your right and realise it’s Rafe. He’s okay, he’s alive and he’s sitting on the bed next to you. Relief floods through you like a tidal wave.

“Is it the nightmare again?” He asks. You nod, signalling him that he’s right.

“It’s okay baby I got you. Here, come back to sleep,” he says, gently pulling you into his arms. You smile and cuddle him, clinging to the illusion of safety his embrace provides. You close your eyes again trying to fall back to sleep till your alarm suddenly rings.

You wake up with a tear running down your cheek. You hit the snooze button and realise that was a dream and this time, it’s the true reality. You look to the other side of your bed, it’s empty. It always has been for quite a while now. The truth is, that night after Rafe collapsed, you called for an ambulance. On the way to the hospital, they try everything to make his heart beat again, but nothing works. It was too late. He had lost too many blood before that you weren’t aware of and that same night, Rafe had died in your arms.

It’s been 3 years since the tragic. You keep having the same dream almost every night. Part of you is grateful that you and Rafe had ended in good terms but another part of you knows that the truth is you’ll never get the chance to redeem yourself and be a better partner. There’s nothing remaining other than the memories that will haunt you forever.

Rafe, if you’re hearing this, I love you, I’m sorry.

Like and reblog if you want to kys after reading this😇☺️

[cutiechaser]

The soft glow of late-night light filters through the curtains, casting an ethereal halo around you as you lounge on the couch. I can’t help but admire the way your silhouette melts into the shadows, every line and curve a testament to your strength. It’s mesmerizing, and my heart swells with affection.

“Do you realize how attractive you are?” Your smile is shy, yet it lights up the dimness of the room, and a delicious blush spreads across your cheeks, just visible under the soft light of the moon. I thrive on the sight of you, the air thick with unsaid promises and electric anticipation.

You’re spectacular, a powerful and graceful form that exudes strength. I trail my fingers over the contours of your arms, feeling the sinewy muscle, divine softness, and warmth beneath my touch, and I savor the delightful contrast of your perfect physique accented by those irresistible glimpses of personality in the flush, the calluses, the marvelous slopes of a life well lived that invite a deeper exploration. To learn your body is an honor of the highest regard.

“You’re so keen to please,” I murmur, the edge of my voice laced with delight. “Your eagerness just bewitches me.”

I can see the way you tremble with anticipation as I position myself closer, allowing our chemistry to thicken the air around us. I take my time, letting the moment linger, while my fingers dance across your skin, tracing the line of your thighs with teasing, tantalizing slowness. You watch me, your eyes deep with yearning, and it stirs a ferocious hunger within me.

“Look how beautiful you are,” I say softly, my voice wrapping around you like the silken ribbon I had weaved just for you. “Those powerful arms, that gorgeous form—everything about you is utterly captivating.” I let my hand glide further down, enjoying the way your breath hitches as my fingers ghost over your length, slowly and deliberately. “It’s absolutely intoxicating.”

As I stroke you, the sound of your breathing deepens, each inhale an orchestra of anticipation. “Everything about you amazes me,” I continue, my fingers expertly coaxing responses from you, a rhythm that reflects your strength and vulnerability. “You carry yourself with such grace. The way your body moves as it carries you about your day? It’s mesmerizing.” I catch the fire in your eyes, a glaring reflection of how deeply you feel every touch, every stroke.

“Describe how it feels to know you’re mine for me,” I encourage with a gentle kiss behind your ear. Your body twitches, every nerve ending igniting with desire, and I can see that beautiful internal struggle—strong yet needing to surrender, wanting to give in.

——

“The way your eyes shine,” I murmur, hovering near you, “it tells me everything. It reveals the depths of your soul—your strength, your kindness, your entire being. You’re truly extraordinary.”

I quicken my strokes, and your breath quickens to match. Each gasp, each sigh erupts from within you, pleading with me to continue. “How does it feel to know you’re cherished, desired for every facet of who you are?” I tease softly, enjoying how your body reacts to my words, how your instinct pushes you to surrender.

“Do you want to cum? How badly?” I ask, my tone warm yet demanding, the gleam in my eyes an invitation. “You’re so good at submitting for me, aren’t you?”

As I guide you closer and closer to that precipice of orgasm, I can feel the burgeoning heat within you, the quickening of your pulse. “I want you to simply feel,” I coax, my voice a caress. “Let it submerge you.”

As your breath steadies, I pause, allowing you to bask in that fluttering high. But just when you think you might find release, I shift my weight, teasingly close, my body humming with desire just for you.

“What? I changed my mind. Don’t cum. You can do that for me, can’t you?” I ask, my voice low and sultry, laced with mischief as I lean in closer.

I let my breasts brush against your face, inviting you to revel in their softness. The gentle pressure combined with the heat radiating from my skin leaves you breathless, drooling, your desire flaring as you instinctively lean closer, longing to taste every inch of me. “Kiss them,” I command, watching your eyes widen.

You obey, your lips gliding over the delicate skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through us both. I can see your resolve wafting away with each kiss, and I find myself luxuriating in the way you worship my body. I revel in the way your touch ignites every nerve in me, and I can feel how desperately your body craves more.

I grab your face in my hand, pulling myself out of reach just a bit too soon, leaving you gasping, wanting—aching for the release I lulled you into confidence of having. “What’s the matter? Something you need? I know what you need. Relax,” I whisper, a teasing smile playing on my lips as I watch desire flare even hotter in your eyes.

I lean down, my mouth hovering dangerously close to you. I take my time, lavishing your skin with kisses, whispers, and soft nips that make you squirm. My lips trace mouthwatering paths down your torso, edging closer to where you need me most but never quite touching. I take in your reactions, each hitch of your breath beckoning me to continue, my mouth memorizing the terrain of your body yet frustratingly out of reach of the release you crave.

“Are you enjoying this?” I murmur, my breath warm against you, drawing out the tension and keeping it alive. “Look at you! Struggling to hold back. Of course you’re enjoying it.”

I pull back, feeling your desperation like a tangible thing, the air electric with unfulfilled desire. I reposition myself, then straddle your face.

“Breathe me in,” I command gently, lowering myself onto you, giving you a taste. As your tongue delves deeper, I rock my hips slowly against you, finding a rhythm that taunts both of us. I can feel the heat building within you, a frantic energy, and I watch as you fight the urge to succumb to that delicious tide. “Such a good sub, doing exactly as you’re told,” I praise softly, coaxing more urgency from you.

Just when I sense your need to spill over, your fist clenching against your side as you struggle not to touch yourself, I lift myself off you, yet again denying the release you so desperately seek. “Not yet, love,” I tease, watching the frustration wash over your face, the perfect blend of yearning and surrender.

Instead, I lower myself back down, but this time I guide you to part my slick folds with your eager fingers, inviting you into me, allowing just the tip at first. I want to feel every pulse of desire and anticipation as I slide myself down on your shaft, embracing the fullness while keeping you tightly wound around the edge of bliss.

“Does that feel good?” I murmur, each word dripping with temptation the way my pussy drips a glistening trail along your shaft, anchoring you closer. But as you start to buckle beneath the weight of your arousal, I rise fully off of you again, leaving you on that brink, filled with a maddening mix of pleasure and longing.

“Look at the way you need… So close, yet so far,” I tease, plunging back into the sensation, letting you feel every tight clench around you as I rock my hips, coaxing yet another wave of sensitivity. Then again, just as you begin to barrel towards ecstasy, I halt, leaving you teetering between the bliss you desire and the control I maintain.

With that tantalizing rhythm, I keep pushing you closer to that edge without letting you fall over, thriving in the torment. Those vibrant sensations swirl around you; I finally pick up a steady rhythm, bottoming out on your length as I grind my hips against you, my legs moving in a swift motion as I watch your face transform, those stunning eyes reflecting a mix of bliss and surrender. “That’s perfect,” I whisper, my encouragement floating in the air like a balm. “Let yourself feel everything. Cum for me.”

Your release begins to cascade like a breathtaking wave, filling me up deliciously. I continue to soothe you, my caresses gentle as I shower you in adoration.

“You are perfect, you know—so perfect for me,” I murmur, my breath brushing against your skin, cherishing this intimate moment as you come back to yourself.

As you regain your composure, I pull you into my embrace, resting my chin on your shoulder while my fingers weave through your hair, a soft grounding presence. “You’re mine,” I whisper, letting the warmth of my voice envelop you completely, the truth hanging softly between us, powerful and undeniable.

[eclecticwitchandpaganjean]

Deity Information: Hekate/Hecate

Now that I have established this blog, I feel I should start talking about deities for those who are looking to worship. I was torn between my three patrons: Bastet, Hekate, and Hestia; however, since Hestia didn't mind Bastet and Hekate going first, I tried to narrow my decision but truth be told, I was conflicted. On one hand, Bastet is my soul mother and I should honor her; however, on the other hand, Hekate is the goddess of witchcraft and a teacher of witches and thus should be honored on a blog about paganism and witchcraft and thus I used a decision wheel to decide.

Now before I get too far into this, I use the spelling of Hekate with a K instead of a C since the later spelling only became popular due to William Shakespeare's play Macbeth.

There are many accounts of who Hekate's parents are; however, I follow the belief that she is the daughter of Perses: Titan of Destruction, and Asteria: Titaness of Falling Stars and Divination.

Hekate: who is the Titaness/Goddess of witchcraft, poisons, ghosts, the night, the moon, the crossroads, and on some accounts: the goddess of boundaries, walls, and doorways. In Greek mythology, she was often seen as Chthonic Deity (deity associated with the dead) and an Oikos Deity (deity associated with the house and home).

After the Titanomachy, Zeus rewarded Hekate's loyalty, regardless of her father being on Cronus's side, dominion over Land (Underworld), Sky, and Sea regardless of Poseidon or Hades'es say so.

She does have the title as a mother as she has a few children as well: on some accounts, she is the mother to the goddess/titaness Circe: Goddess/Titaness of potions, sorcery, transformation, and enchantment, the demigods: Aegialeus - also known as Absyrtus - (King of Sicyon and Argos) and Medea (demigoddess witch known for repelling evil spirits in the story of Jason and the Argonauts, and known for murdering her own children to get revenge against her husband)[Also the slayer of her brother Aegialeus], and The Monsters: Empusa and Scylla (although before she was turned into a monster by Circe).

She is given the title of midwife as some say that she resided over the birth of Zeus himself and helped Rhea convince Cronus that the rock he was eating was baby Zeus.

One of her famous myths is where she became the attendant of Persephone/Kora. She happened to reside in the forest next to the meadow where Persephone and Artemis were said to be playing. Now I don't remember how Artemis left the picture; however, I do remember from the story that she heard Persephone's screams and went and found Demeter with Helios. I suspect that was when Circe was conceived due to Helios being Circe's father. Regardless, Demeter was notified of Persephone's disappearance. While she was distraught, Hekate lit her torch and braved the journey into the Underworld to retrieve Persephone/Kora. She then guided Persephone/Kora with torch in one hand and their hand in the other until they made it back to Demeter. Although everyone knows the story about the pomegranate and the being with Hades for half of a year and thus, Hekate, every year, escorts Persephone/Kora down into the Underworld and resides there during the winter months and returns with her every spring. I honestly think she does that since the lands are to barren to gather herbs for magic since most don't bloom or sprout in the winter.

Now, for Hekate and I's relationship. She and I have a neat little history, I have been worshiping and working with her since October of 2023 and we have had a great break through with my progress in witchcraft and paganism whether she offers her incites through dreams or divination means. If I was to describe her personality towards me would most likely be a German Shepherd Mother. She is kind and a great teacher but isn't afraid to show tough love from time to time. Although this feeds into my personal title for her to be my "Dark Mother Hekate" as I see her as sort of a mother figure just as I see my soul mother Bastet as a mother figure as well. But honestly, who wants to listen about my mother issues? Am I right? Now on with information about the things she likes as offerings from my experience of working with her.

basic information on the things she is associated with:

Herbs associated with her are: Almonds, Aconite (also known as Hecateis or Monkshood or Wolfsbane), Belladonna, Dittany, Cinnamon, Sage, Jasmine, Citrus fruits, Roses, Poppy seeds, Mandrake, Yew, Garlic, Angelica, Cypress, Pomegranate, Frankincense, Dragons Blood, Lavender, Mugwort, Mushrooms, Wormwood, Yarrow, Willow, Dandelions, Ebony, Garland, Oak, Saffron, Hag’s Taper (Mullein), Mint, Foxglove, Stones and Metals associated with her are: black tourmaline, obsidian, amethyst, hematite, smoky quartz, labradorite, moonstone, nuummite, opal, Symbols associated with her are: triple moon symbol, pregnant goddess symbol, keys, torches, knives, swords, the number 3 Tarot cards associated with her are: high priestess, moon, queen of pentacles, Animals associated with her are: snakes, polecats, dogs, flies, moths, horses, owls, cats, crows, ravens, magpies, Offerings to Her Include: a clove of garlic, keys, onions, honeycakes, images of her sacred animals, tealights, Breads, cakes, fruits, cheeses, onions, eggs, fish (red mullet and salmon), sesame seeds, almonds, libations of wine and honey, Candles, Bones, Fires - i.e. bonfires, Oil lamps, incense of her herbs, Crow/Raven/Owl Feathers, Statues of Her and Her sacred animals, Poetry, literature, and music you heavily associate with Her, milk, chocolate, Rose petals, Cypress and willow leaves, Frankincense, Seashells, Black dog fur, Dog nail clippings, Images of dogs (pictures, personal drawings, dog plushies, etc.), Keys, Personal offerings (nail clippings, hair), Anything relating to the moon (pictures, keychains, personal drawings, etc.), Round cakes decorated with candles, red wine, mead, Crescent shaped sweets, Pomegranates, Raw eggs, Mushrooms, Dandelion tea, Large candles, A cauldron, Imagery of dogs such as statues, toy dogs, paintings, etc., Incense (lavender and myrrh are great), Graveyard dirt (ask before taking! Do your research before gathering please.), Snake skin, Animal bones, Wands

Ways to honor her include: Helping and being friendly to dogs, Donating blankets, food, toys to animal shelters in her name, Volunteering at an animal shelter, Devoting time at night to her (meditate, talk to her, just have some silence for her, etc.), Sharing your experiences, especially painful ones and your anger or sorrow with her, Study herbs and planting herbs in your garden, Having rituals or casting spells during a dark moon and invoking her, Taking care of graveyards and keeping them clean, Holding a feast for her and having all her favorite foods and drinks

Holidays Associated with Her: Samhain (October 31st-November 2nd), Deipnon (Every new moon), Yule, Beltane (May 1st-5th), Lammas, Night of Hekate (November 16th), Day of Hekate At The Crossroads (November 30th), Day of Hecate’s Storm (August 13th), Festival of Hekate (August 21st) Midwife’s Day (January 8th), Feast of Hekate (January 31th), Feast of Hekate (January 2-3), Dark Mother Goddess Day (May 21st), Feast of Divine Life (September 21st).

Days of The Week Sacred to Her: Saturdays Signs Hecate is calling to you: seeing themes of three, seeing images of her sacred animals in physical, media, dreams, etc., feeling a dark but maternal and guiding presence nearby, seeing images of crossroads, coming across the tarot cards: the high priestess, the queen of swords, and death, feeling: power, strength, guidance, and protection in your craft. Another sign is flies/black moths: if the flie/black moth lands on your right side, then she is calling you to do something/ follow through with what you were intending/planning to do whether its build an altar, make an offering, do an act in her honor, etc. If the fly/black moth lands on your left side, then she is saying that she has accepted what you have done; such as she accepts your offering, is pleased with the work you have done in her honor, likes her altar, etc. Epithets: Aenaos: Eternal, agelong, ever-flowing, Aglaos: Beautiful, bright, pleasing, Apotropaia: The one that turns away/protects, Brimo: The furious, the avenging, the dreaded, crackling flame, Chthonia: Of the earth/underworld, Enodia: She on the way/road, Erototokos: Producing love, bearer of love, Daduchos: Torch-bearer, Trodia: Frequenter of the crossroads, Propylaia: Of the gates, Keeper of Keys, Goddess of The Crossroads, Goddess of Witchcraft, Guiding Light of The Darkest Nights, Blazing Torch of The Night

So there you have it folks. Pretty much everything I know/believe about Hekate. I treat this goddess/Titaness with the upmost respect and gratitude as she is one of the most reversed deities I work with and worship. I just hope I did her justice with this post.

first photo credit to IrenHorrors on DeviantArt, second photo is credit to Yliade on DeviantArt

[cyb3rozexer]

This is such a stupid and weird thought that has suddenly been sprung upon me but I NEED TO GET IT OUT.

LIFE SERIES!

So i’ve been thinking too much about the ideas of scar being trapped in secret life. And following his tweets about fixing up the shack roof for the snow and adding a fireplace wouldn’t stop the brain gears.

What if each life series winner is soul bound to their winning series.

Grian can’t help but find scar and care for him no matter what scar does to him in every series because his soul is stuck in 3rd life. He is stuck in the life in which he is devoted to scar and was his trusted ally. (i love them)

Scott and pearl were both together throughout both last and double life. Last having scott develop his trustworthy-ness and willingness to sacrifice himself for others that carries through. Double life making pearl realise she can trust others and find long lasting friendships due to scott’s sacrifice. They’re now allies again but with even more people in wild life because they’re still bound to their prior worlds.

Martyn’s need to be sneaky and on the hunt for others because in limited life there was a desperation to extend the timer that is your life at all times. But decidedly taking it easy during wild life because ren was the only person not there both secret life and limited life where it felt like your life was constantly on the line, so it provides a sense of security and ease ? Maybe even feeling like TIME HAS STOPPED?? (nudge wink i love them)

(there might be some inaccuracies with those 3 because i haven’t watched their povs for a lot of the series im sorry)

AND THEN

Scar dying in wild life dying alone without any of his allies around.

Why?

Because in secret life no matter how hard he tried for allies and friendships the secret keepers wouldn’t allow it leaving him stuck in secret life all alone.

AND SO NOW AFTER DYING IN WILD LIFE HE GOES BACK TO SECRET LIFE. ALONE. WITH THE GHOST OF THE WORLD THAT REMAINS LEAVING HIM TO WANDER ENDLESSLY FOREVER.

and then cleo is just always real i love them. Very fitting.

[loopyarts]

Agree, I have been reading some of the Golden Age comics for fun and I am always baffled when people say they weren’t writing as father/son until recently. Like no they were always family, yes it took some time in universe for them be father/son. But it’s not a new concept believe me they’re two more story in Golden Age that heavily focus on this very concept. Like these takes makes me cry in my soul slightly because this was exactly how my dad was like when I was growing as a wee lad.

Also sorry if I accidentally come off as rude but I wanted to corrected you slightly on a some information regarding Batman creator or should I say creators. Firstly Batman the concept was indeed created by Bob Kane but the one who helped make Batman who he was in the comics and suggested he look more like a bat was Bill finger the main writer for almost all the Golden Age comics. He also wrote a good amount of the Silver Age comics as well.

Fun fact Robin was also a collaborative effort as well. Both Bob Kane and Jerry Robinson helped come up with the concept and Bill helped flesh it out and also Jerry designed the Robin outfit as well. The sad thing is Bob Kane never gave Bill the credit he so rightfully deserved he only did it after he had passed away. So yeah Bob was kinda an ass and he also hired ghost artist to do the comics artwork for him as well and he also didn’t credit any of those artists either. So while I will acknowledge he was the one who came up with the Batman idea as a person he wasn’t that great of a guy really and many artists who had worked under him hated his ass.

Also if you like #20 of Batman here are some panels from the other two comics with being openly father and son. ^v^) Fun fact all three of these stories were written by Bill finger which I find so fascinating because he was the only writer who was really playing around with this concept in the Golden Age. So if wanted to give one of the creators of early Batman some roses for writing Dick and Bruce as father/son that would be Bill.

Some panels from The Trial of Bruce Wayne.”Batman #57 By Bill Finger, art Dick Sprang and Charles Paris released in 1950 Golden Age.

Ta da The issue where Dick practically was calling Bruce dad it only took Dick like what seven real life years to say it ha ha.

Some panels of one my personal favourites Batman #66 Batman Sr and Robin Junior written by Bill finger art Bob Kane, Lew Sayre Schwartz, Charles Paris released in August-September 1951 Golden Age.

Why do these comic book writers and honestly DC really keep trying to kill this aspect of their relationship by making it cold and neglectful for so long I will never know. Bruce being a good mentor/father towards Dick is so important for Dick as that is how he was able to heal past the trauma of losing his parents. Because he never got to grew up practically alone, he had Bruce who was like a second father towards him. Just let Bruce be a good dad you cowards and also stop making Bruce younger and younger DC let the man be in his late 40s already.

Bruce Wayne loses the guardianship of Dick Grayson!

Batman #20 (December-January, 1943-1944)

[dannyphannypack]

guys being so serious do you think if you were depressed so your pseudo-godfather ripped out your ghost half and then that ghost half turned evil and brutally murdered you, who has now become a full human, do you think … do you think the human half could become its own separate ghost born from a traumatic death. a ghostception. i’m being serious

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Ghouls night out

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[bet-on-me-13]

It's a Deal.

So! Steph is in a bit of a Bind. Literally.

Her Father had just discovered that she was the Vigilante who kept ruining his Plans, and decided to Deal with her. So he tied her up at a Bomb Site for one of his Plans and left her to die there.

No matter how much she struggled, she couldn't escape the Ropes, and time was running out. If only she had managed to get that last message out to Batman in time, maybe he would have come to rescue her.

The Timer had nearly reached Zero, when all of a sudden Time Stopped. The Ropes around her fell away, and a guy walked up to her as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Hey, you seem to be in a bit of a bind."

"Not so much anymore, was that you?"

"Yeah, bit of a Free Sample. See, I'm in a bit of a bind as well. I made a Deal with these floating Eyeballs, and long story short in order to keep my town safe I need to take the Soul of an Innocent person."

"And is that where I come in?"

"Yup, Basically I save your life, help you out with whatever you want, and you give me the rights to your Soul."

"What if I just walk away while time is stopped?"

"The building is Locked down tight, and I can't actually hold Time stopped for too long either way, it's sort of a new power to me. Without my help you wouldn't get out in time."

"So it's sell my soul or die?"

"Trust me,I don't like it either, but it's what I have to do."

"You know what, sure. You help me escape, help me take down The Cluemaster, and I'll give you my Soul."

"Then it's a Deal."

"I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

[cringefail-clown]

thinking about them again (turnabout au post-scratch jakehal)

[copia]

THIRTY-ONE DAYS OF GHOST ⛧ DAY TWO

the song that made you a fan — Spillways

“This is an elegy for the darkness that most people have inside. When you have a dam, spillways are the run-offs so the dam won’t overflow. That darkness inside us needs to find its way out,” — Tobias Forge

Job 10:1 "I loathe my own life; I will give full vent to my complaint; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul."

[vaguely-concerned]

walking through lucanis' mind prison. the tam lin of it all

[moeblob]

Huevember 11

Karen and Rick but in the DND AU. (I just look at this and think 'Barbie learned eldritch blast' but ya know. Whatever.)

[blackhholes]

teen wolf meme: [6/6] creatures -> ghost riders

In storm clouds just like these, phantom hunters would appear, riding black horses with blood-red eyes, and wolves and hounds at their side, baying and snarling. What were they hunting? Souls.

[giddlygoat]

Hey about the ghost Luigi au. But. Would he fade with time? Or would he be forced to watch everyone’s lives continue without him? Would he be forced to watch his friends and brother die? Cause that’s angsty as hell my dude

oh, he’s in it for the long haul. i think after time has done its damage, he would go from being inconsolable to a long period of complete and utter shutdown. who knows, maybe he takes to scaring folks in the end. at some point, that becomes the only thing a ghost can really offer, right? when connection is that temporary it loses its meaning. the only way he can touch the real world anymore is through fear.

or you know, he could fulfill his dying wish and ascend to the afterlife. i want him to have a happy ending in one universe or another

[larabar]

id imagine sonics friend would be like. horrified that sonic fucking died and all of them brushed it off. man this au rlly is silly or soul crushing angst uh

^ the au