#psychography

[zurich-snows]

“We are more alive in the spirit world than you are on Earth. We can see you, hear you, touch you and feel you”

Auto writing or Automatic writing is also called “psychography” , a claimed psychic ability that allows a person to produce written words without consciously writing. They do this by holding a writing instrument and allowing the spirits to manipulate the practitioners hand. The instrument can be a standard writing instrument or one specially designed for automatic writing.

#auto writing #spirit writing #automatic writing #psychography #writing #hand writing

[thecodexcumberbatchian]

A hard wind is blowing. It is a different time now. We shutter our windows at the cold. But subway prophets have been wrong before and as the politicians gather round to burn the martyrs and the witches of the age, baby we need to take a different door. Fly down into the same old patterns or move on into the blue. But make up your mind fast. What has been written will soon come to pass. If you don't make your move, your time will be past. The time is coming to make up your mind, which side are your on, the good and the right, or the weak who fight to maintain the balance of power. Singing about ringing a bell does not ring it. Until the chimes toll out, justice is not done. Truth and justice are hard fought battles. The soldiers are weary and the world can always use more. What are you fighting for?

#psychic readings #submission #psychography #pyshic writing #spirit writing

[danskjavlarna]

Source details and larger version.

Here are all the vintage images I’ve so far encountered that, for one esoteric reason or other, are categorized as “occult.”

#mind reading #thought transfer #psychography #mentalism #occult #esoteric #vintage illustration

[redd956]

Abstract Art I was forced to make for art class

It represents my frustrations with art class

#art #my art #abstract art #ink drawing #inking #pshycography #psychography

[astropithecus]

The beta gremlin, he checks in code with bugs late at night while everyone is sleeping, right before beta starts in the production environment.

Also, "manfiches." Sometimes when I try to take notes, the subjective experience feels like my brain loses track of what my hand is doing, or vice versa. This leads to a sort of psychography, automatic writing, where I write things down without consciously considering them. Usually it's words from the conversation, sometimes even words I'm saying. One time I wrote down my own email address. One time I wrote my own name. This time I wrote a latin-esque romance language word, French or Spanish or Italian. I don't know where it came from, what my brain told my hand to write was "report format."

So I made it spooky looking. Manfiches. I don't think it's a proper word in any language - Google translate says "manfiche" is Italian for "wicked" and "fiches" is French for "sheets" (like paper) but manfiches isn't a word in either.

I say it like microfiches (*MAN-feesh-ez*). You could pronounce it like niche (*MAN-fitch-ez*) but that sounds like ordering a sloppy joe in Russian.

#funny #art #original work #doodlings #psychography #automatic writing #doodles #illustrators on tumblr #manfiches

[newsofthetimesnott]

#NewsofTheTimes #VictorianCrimeStories #eccentricsundays #intuitivemessages #childprostitution #WilliamStead #psychography #Youtube

[sanskritisethi]

Automatic writing is known as psychography. It is a practice of tapping deep down into a source of wisdom within you outside the conscious awareness. The intuitive writing practice is done in an altered consciousness state. Psychologists and spiritualists have different beliefs about the origin of automatic writing. Some people argue that it is sourced from the unconscious mind, and others claim it originates from a supernatural force like a spirit guide or even angels.

#reading #Automatic #Psychography #Automatic writing #Astrologist & Psychic

[character-of-all-time]

>'i can't spell'

>knows what psychography is

>spelled it perfectly

the problem isnt that i dont know intellectually how words are spelled, it is simply that my hands do as they choose at moments and i elect to leave their mistakes as signs from the aether

#i knew his name was scrat actually i just went on autopilot for that one apparently lol #see also. megaman. #also psychography is an easy word to spell its just. #psych. o. graphy. yeah. #im good at spelling actually watch this: necessary #BITCH!!!!! GET SOME!!!!!!! #anyway typos are funny so i allow them to stay

[lesportesdelaudela]

Visualisez l’équilibre et renouvelez-vous

Vous vivez la vie que vous choisissez et construisez avec l’émanation venant de l’intérieur. Vous êtes dans une situation où les circonstances se connectent à votre être énergétique. Vous récoltez les fruits et les effets des actions qui ont résulté de l’utilisation de votre libre arbitre. Notez qu’il y a des forces d’interactions magnétiques dans vos cellules qui vous harmonisent ou vous��

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#psychographie #spirituel

[sonyasimscc]

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#s4 #ts4cc #sonyasims #the sims 4 #s4hair #s4female hair #s4alphahair #s4cc #ts4 #sims 4 #my sims #the sims #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 cc #simblr #thesims 4 #the sims cc #thesims4 #thesims4 cc

[chronically-ghosted]

sam and diane, eat your heart out

rating: 18+

pairing: marcus pike x f!reader

word count: 3374

summary: after spending six months with FBI Agent Marcus Pike on a case almost-kissing, almost-flirting - almost - almost - almost - you decide to do something about that Unresolved Sexual Tension.

tags/warnings: thigh riding, marcus being a menace during a makeout session, marcus being a good agent first and an idiot second, i love marcus pike with my whole being (not a warning, just thought you should know), light cursing, reader is a journalist but no y/n or physical descriptions

a/n:  from @trulybetty 's request from my 100 followers celebration: "Going with psychography and this is hard… Let's see, I pick prompt no. 9 and Pedro boy of choice is Marcus Pike as he's one you don't have your master list yet! → “i’m so sick of this ‘will we, won’t we’ shit."I'll leave it to dealers' choice for smut vs. no smut on how it takes you!"

🤍Masterlist

“So, this is it? This proves the buyer knowingly purchased the artifacts illegally from the Belgian government.” 

His mouth twitches. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know any court of law that wouldn’t uphold this as evidence.” 

“And then used the money to bankroll the opposite party? These tapes, Marcus – I don’t know how you got them, but –,”

“Wouldn’t have gotten them without those bank statements,” he smiles at you, fingers pressing down those specific documents on his desk. “I don’t even wanna know how you got into that personal server, but –,”

“I’ll keep my secrets if you’re going to keep yours.” 

“Fair enough,” he chuckles and the sound sends a cascade of warmth down the back of your neck. You turn your head away to hide your cheeks like some schoolgirl with a crush. Well, about half of that is right. A crush on the FBI agent you’ve been working with on the side to not only bring an end to one man’s hunt for cultural artifacts that do not belong to him – how stupid could you be? This is not the way to getting your first Pulitzer!

Besides, this is only going to end badly – for you. Because whether or not you were convinced that Agent Marcus Pike may in fact be interested in you, depended on the day, the weather, and if you were susceptible to crying and eating chocolate bar by bar. Your combined case against this wanna-be museum pilferer was more airtight than your little book of tells: “Marcus noticed my perfume today”, “Marcus didn’t mention my haircut” , “Marcus complimented my outfit today.” You plucked off hopes and disappointments like petals from the most pathetic daisy and when you found yourself staring at an empty stalk, you were no closer to finding an answer you were happy with. 

Because for every reason, every indication, every hint that no, Marcus annoyingly respected you only for your brains and journalistic integrity . . . he’d look at you like he’s looking at you right now and every semblance of dignity would go flying out the window faster than you can say defenestration. 

Marcus drops your eyes, mouth parted as if surprised by his blatant staring, and he brushes the lynch pin to your case with his fingers.

“This is, um, this is really good work. Your editors are gonna love it.”

You lean your hip against the edge of his desk, crossing your arms, elbowing your way back into his attention. Your thigh teases the space between his. His head down, you watch his tongue wet his bottom lip the longer he stares at your hip. 

“They’d love it more if the agent in charge went on record about the whole thing.” 

Like you burned him, he retreats, stepping back towards the corkboard that’s been hanging in his office for six months. He tugs at his tie and clears his throat.

“Mhmm, yeah, maybe for a follow-up piece.” Swallowing, he pulls at the knot of his tie, and slips it over his head once the hole is big enough, quickly stuffing it in his pocket. He looks at the board like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. 

You can’t stop the irate scoff. The hurt, the embarrassment, it burns you. It’s such a stupid crush and he’s making you look like an idiot for it, desperate for scraps when you deserved a whole fucking meal. Your self-confidence had been hard won, built up under years of duress and shame, and a need for a change in your life. If you aren’t happy with something, fix it, your father used to say. So you did and you weren’t about to let Marcus goddamn Pike make you feel small again.

“You know what, fuck this.” In two strides, you move away from his desk and snatch up your shoulder bag. You know you’re making a scene, your cheeks warm, nose flared, and this isn’t the best way to end the last six months, or even continue a potentially invaluable insider source that could benefit your career for years to come. But you can’t help it. You hate how Marcus makes you feel. “I’m such a fucking idiot for thinking you’d have the balls to reciprocate so, you know what, that one’s on me. Keep the tapes, Marcus, I have copies. I’m going home.”

He frantically sputters out your name as he intercepts you between the door to his office. All the blinds are shut, this case of the highest confidentiality, and at least there’s the small miracle that his coworkers can’t see you act like a jilted fourteen year old. Your hand squeezes the strap around your shoulder when Marcus reaches for you. 

“I’m sorry, but what are you talking about?”  

You grind your teeth together, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m talking about us, Marcus. This thing between us that’s been going on for months. The thing that you refuse to acknowledge. I’m so sick of this ‘will-they-won’t-they’ shit. I’m a grown woman, Marcus, and if you’re not interested then just come out and say it. Just stop . . . messing with me.”

The hand outstretched to you curls in, fingers, fist, retreating. His mouth twitches again, his eyes fundamentally unreadable. He glances over your shoulder at the board, and then when he looks back, his gaze is . . . different. Like he swapped his usual soft, friendly brown eyes with a pretense that carries a little more heat to it. The spilling of too black powder in a dangerous, unstable place, where careless matches are liable to fly. 

Marcus shifts his weight, crosses his arms with the full strength of his back yanking on his blazer, and bites just below his lip on his left side, somehow making that bowed mouth even more pouty. 

“No, I mean . . . why did you think I’d never act on it?” 

Now it’s your turn to take a small step back, even though the low pitch to his voice is exactly what you’ve been all but begging for. The sound of it twists your insides, tugging arousal low in your belly. You swallow, suddenly blinding padding around for that righteous anger. 

“It’s been six months, Marcus. Three since you almost kissed me during the stakeout. Two since I saw you staring at my bra after the rainstorm. A-and last month . . . last month, when you invited me over for dinner, I thought . . . I-I thought . . .”

You thought dinner was going to end in something sweeter than chocolate pie for dessert, when a woman called him, furious that he hadn’t been answering his calls. Her screaming was audible and the sheer look of panic on his face was enough to confirm every terrible thing you thought you were so terribly correct about. 

“I told you about my ex-wife when we first met. I wasn’t hiding her. You weren’t the other woman.” 

“Yeah, but people usually go their separate ways after a so-called nasty divorce.” 

His eyebrow jumps at the unmasked condescension in your voice. You hold the strap across your chest like a lifeline. 

Marcus’s eyes stray to the corkboard again as he works his jaw, split between being rather irritated and . . . something else. 

That something else slams full force into your chest when he meets your gaze: heartbreak.

“Did you ever consider I tried to stop anything before it started, because I didn't want some asshole defense attorney to have any reason to blow holes in our case?” He shakes his head, this time overwhelming you entirely as he oversteps at least three professional boundaries by herding you back against a filing cabinet with just the sway of his body. The metal clangs as you crash against it, shoulders around your ears. “A reason like if the lead investigator and his CI were fucking?”

The messenger bag around your hips is the only thing keeping him from pressing up on you entirely. You are intimately aware of that when he tilts his head at you, eyes mournful and explorative as they draw a path over your cheeks, your nose, your eyebrows. Down the curve of your jaw and your neck. 

You do the only thing you can think of and laugh at him: “A CI? Please, I think I was a little more integral than that.” 

Marcus hums as he gently brushes the arch of your cheek with the pad of his finger. 

“All the more reason to keep everything squeaky clean.” 

You finally understand why he’s been looking at the board over and over, as if it’s going to suddenly catch flames. You suppose it's only fair that he’s worried – does a blasphemer not worry about his own state of grace on holy ground? 

He’s knee-bucklingly close when you work up enough courage to look him in the eye and say what’s been looping around your mind like an unhitched railway car.

“But you said it yourself, the case is over, right?” There’s a corner of your mind that is keening with embarrassment at how breathless you sound, so you throw a shoe at her and drop your eyes to Marcus’s increasingly close lips. They’re wet when he runs his tongue over them. 

“Yes, I did say that.” Fireworks explode in your brain when he tucks his middle finger under the strap of your messenger bag up by your collarbone, and then proceeds to slide his hand down the strap, knuckles very intentionally rubbing between the valley of your breasts. You wish you had worn a push-up bra or nothing at all. His hand shakes as it stops just above your belly button. 

On a slow inhale, his palm changes directions, turning over to your stomach, heat blooming from where he touches you over your skin, to slide with a solid grip on your hip. A weight. The shifting of the scales. 

“Marcus–,” it sounds like begging and he’s hardly even touched you so you have to follow it up with something. You drop your head back against the metal, trying to even your breathing. “Marcus, w-we got the evidence. The case is closed, we d-don’t work together any more. We - we can–,”

“I want to,” he murmurs and you swear the heat from his breath across your collarbone tightens your nipples in your shirt. “God, I fucking want to. But this case can’t be jeopardized. The bureau has been after this guy for years and if we fuck it up on a technicality –,” 

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” you blurt out. The back of your head pinned to the metal locker behind you, you stare him down from the end of your nose, breathing hard and heavy. You squeeze your eyes shut before opening them to his gun-powder gaze. “We don’t even have to do this more than once, but . . . fuck, I’ve gotta get you out of my system, Marcus. I can’t think straight around you anymore.” 

Making a noise like someone popped him across the chest with their elbow, he shuffles closer, the bag between you digging painfully into your lower stomach. Both hands find their way to your hips. He squeezes you through your jeans, your panties a truly forgone mess at this point. You had men tease you before about how wet you got, like it was something shameful or embarrassing – giving so much of yourself away so quickly – but nearly pinned beneath him, you are quite sure Marcus would never have that inclination. Your own hands have latched onto his shoulders of their own accord. 

“We don’t have to tell,” you hiccup when his thumb barely brushes the bottom of your bra. “I won’t tell, Marcus.” He tilts his head, the rough hairs of his beard brushing against your temple and you shudder, so eager to be touched by him on your skin and not through your clothes. “Please. Please.” 

He groans again, eyes fluttering, head shaking. “Fuck, baby, don’t beg me like that–,”

His body presses you flat against the locker when he eagerly collides his mouth with yours. His broad hands cup your cheeks, holding you exactly where he wants you, your fingers digging around his wrists to confirm to him there’s literally nowhere else you’d rather be. 

Marcus Pike executed everything in his life with dogged determinism. From catching criminals, to shining his shoes, Marcus was meticulous and detail-oriented. It made him a great agent – and one hell of a kisser. 

His tongue rides along the bottom of your lip, then the top, not seeking entrance, but cataloging if the places on your mouth taste differently. He nips your plush lip and finds the sound you make is not exactly how he wants it. So he licks your mouth open, as forcefully as he politely shows a warrant before kicking open a suspect’s door. He finds that you like it when he’s a bit rough with his tongue, biting more at your upper lip to make you keen at that frequency he’s been craving. He does it again and you moan louder, fingers tightening around the curls at the back of his neck. He’s not satisfied with that sound alone, so he pushes even closer to you, seeking your heat with his thigh as if he could feel you pulse for him with just his mouth on you. 

But this goddamn bag –

“Get this–,” he scrambles over your hands as you both incorrectly fight with the strap and the weight of the bag, “what is even in this?”

You chuckle as he manages to yank it over your head without pulling out your hair. “My little pheromones to drive hot FBI agents berserk. Why? Is it working?” 

His moan is set between his teeth, sucking on both his own desperation and frustration at your teasing. Barrier gone, he shoves his knee between your thighs and slides it until it nestles against your crotch. It pushes the seam of your jeans against your clit and you rip your mouth away from his, gasping at the overly hot pleasure that roars up your middle. 

“Fuck, Marcus,” you keen and his mouth splits open, eyelids heavy, as he watches you writhe on this thigh. 

“You’re so warm, but are you wet? I can’t feel you.” His nose and mouth tucking into your neck, his wide palms tug and push your hips in a steady rhythm that has you fisting his jacket. “Couldn’t have worn a skirt?” 

“I didn’-t know – you’d want to – do this,” you breathe through this rapidly swelling pleasure, your clit throbbing. He presses up with his thigh just barely and you moan like a fucking pornstar, his cock rock solid and hot against your hip. 

“Can-can you do this?” He asks breathlessly, his own hips rolling in time with yours. “Can you come just on my thigh?” 

You bite your lip and nod, eyes shut and head back against the metal. “Y-yeah, I think I’m – God, yes, I am – I am so close.” 

“What do you need – to get you there?” He dips his head back to that spot on your neck that made your skin break out in goosebumps and he nips at your pulse point before soothing it with his tongue. You jerk at the sensation, your own pleasure ratcheting up to a soaring new height, the damp stripe of your panties almost soothing to your aching clit. You’re so sticky everywhere. You gasp, your hands curling into his shirt, shoulder digging into his jaw, neck arched to the side, as if your body is concerned how hard this orgasm is going to hit when he sucks a distinctive bruise into the hollow of your throat.

“Oh, God, Marcus –,” 

“Tell me, what do you need?” he slurs in your ear. 

You feel so empty, so wet and hollow, you want him to strip your pants down now and fill you as fast as you can. But you tremble on the razors edge – his cock anywhere near you is going to ruin you for the rest of the night – you just need to break through this one and then you’ll –

“Your fingers, Mar-cus, just put – them –,”

He huffs, grunting as he understands, and one of the steadying hands on your hips lurches to the front of your jeans. His knuckles dig into the skin of your stomach as he flicks open the button of your jeans, a low-heavy-drag whine as he finally feels the heat of your pussy, ready to suck him up inside you. He yanks down the zipper, cups you and that’s almost enough. It’s nearly enough and you gasp, your core fluttering, nails tearing into his shirt. 

“Yeah, you need more?” Marcus hums, his teeth scraping your jaw as he pins you to the wall with his full body weight. “Can’t let anything be easy, can you?”

All sense and shame dragged out of you with every swipe of your clit against his thigh, you shake your head and let out a loud whimper. 

He grunts something low and fast, heated and possessive, his hand shifting, knuckle peeling back your sticky underwear, fingers rubbing up against your puffy lips, and finally –

You toss your head back, a hot freeze locking your body up from your toes to your forehead, when he slides two fingers right up your cunt and curls them forward. A second later, heat crackles from your cunt up to your chest and you inhale, stars in your eyes and toes barely scraping the ground. 

As you sink back down into your own body, your brain plugging back in, you realize he’s whispering to you, muttering, his lips moving fast over your skin as he gently brushes your cheek with his own. 

“So good, baby, everything I thought you were going to be, you let me touch you, you make such pretty sounds, so good,” 

The high continues to drag you back down, down until you’re shaking in his arms, a lethargic weight pulling you into his chest. He cups your head into the curve of his neck, his own heart pounding into the vein of his neck. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re messing with me anymore,” you chuckle into his skin and you feel him smile above you. “Okay, a little messing. A messing when asked.” 

“Good. I like messing when asked.” He kisses your cheek, lips lingering as he breathes out his nose. “But, uh, I know you said you weren’t going to tell anyone, but you weren’t exactly quiet about it.” 

You warm again, but this time with a bashful grin. 

“Yeah, sorry. I guess there are advantages to being a workaholic and staying in the office until ten at night.” 

He shakes his head, gently easing his knee from between your legs, careful to hold you until you are steady on your own feet. 

“Don’t need to apologize for that, pretty girl. In fact,” he picks up your infamous shoulder bag and loops it over his neck. The strap catches the fluff of his hair and it stands straight up. You didn’t think you had the energy, but your heart goes wild at the sight. “In fact, when I take you home, I’d like you to be even louder.”

Apparently you had a lot more stamina than you thought because your toes curl and you can practically hear your pussy throb. Your eyes flicker to his crotch.

“You don’t want . . . here?”

He pulls you into his arms, and kisses your forehead. “I do. I want very much. But the first time I’m inside you with anything but my fingers, it’s not going to be in my office. Won’t be able to concentrate.” He takes a look around what had been the epicenter of your investigation for months. “Actually, I might have to repaper the whole thing now.” 

You chuckle, leaning up under his arm where he’s damp and warm. “I think that might tip off someone to our little technicality.” 

He matches your smirk with an eyebrow raise. “Fair. Guess it’ll just have to linger here.”

You kiss his throat as he leads you out of the abandoned building, arm tight around you. Where he does take you home, where he does come inside you with something other than his fingers, and where you scream his name . . . yes, even louder. 

#marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike smu #marcus pike fic #marcus pike x f!reader #100 followers event #100 followers

[storiesbyrhi]

A compendium to my Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson fanfic, Burning Yarrow. Find the masterlist here. This post will be updated with each new chapter of the story to include all spells, rituals, and witchcraft represented.

NEW ENTRIES MARKED WITH ✨ (updated for chapter 28) The reader = the readers of the story itself Reader = the primary character in the story, a.k.a. Little Witch

Aura Reading

An incredibly rare skill among witches, but can be learned. Aura reading involves decoding the colourful light waves or energy fields that emanate from humans, witches, and other living things. (Origins: appears in slightly different forms across many ancient cultures)

Automatic Writing

Also known as psychography, automatic writing is the ability or craft of channeling the dead (or other entities) through written words. One holds a writing instrument and allows spirits to manipulate one's hand, thereby receiving messages from another plane of existence. This is a psychic ability that all witches in Burning Yarrow possess. (Origins: unknown, possibly Fuji/planchette writing in the Song Dynasty, China; or 16th Century Enochian magic)

Binding Spell

Unlisted; while performed in Burning Yarrow, this spell is not known to the reader.

Burial Blessing

When burying the dead, offer the grave flora and fruit, and a piece of Apache Tear obsidian. Recite the blessing. “Hel, comforter in grief, We ask you to receive this soul. They lived pure, good, and true. Hel, watcher of the dead, We ask you to receive this soul. Go peacefully now, no lament, no sorrow, nor rue.” (Origins: Hel of Norse Mythology presides over part of the underworld/realm of the dead and is often called upon in pagan death and funeral rituals; original spell and ritual)

Catskills Coven Gate

To enter the geographical location occupied by the primary coven in Burning Yarrow, locate the target tree and offer witch blood. Speak the Latin words, “Per sanguinem et magica… aperire” A gateway will be revealed. The spell translates roughly to ‘through blood and magic, to open.’ (Origins: original ritual and spell)

Cemetery Lore

- A witch and a vampire cannot be within cemetery gates at the same time. The ultimate effect is unknown, but begins with eerie lightning. (Origins: original lore) - A witch can smell a benevolent graveyard spirit and recognise it by the scent of roses. A malevolent spirit or other creature will smell of death. (Origins: folklore/superstition across the globe) - It is polite and good luck to bring an offering of rosemary to a cemetery and to hold your breath upon crossing the entry. It is bad luck to sit on gravestones and wear new clothing. These may result in a haunting. (Origins: folklore/superstition across the globe) - A vampire's touch will kill all living flora that grows within the cemetery boundaries. (Origins: original lore)

Cleansing Crystals

To cleanse and recharge a crystal, wash in flowing water by moonlight. The recharging may be enhanced by reciting a unique cleansing spell as the witch works.

Cloaking Time/Space Spell

Unlisted; while performed in Burning Yarrow, this spell is not known to the reader.

Communing with the Dead

Prepare your altar as the center of an invisible pentagram. At each point place the following items: a plate of burning cedarwood, black onyx, vervain, moon water, and a white candle at the tip. Sitting at your altar, offer a drop of witch blood. Recite the spell, call to your dead, and wait for their response. “I offer my blood, the blood of a born witch, in payment of passage into the ether.” The dead decide if they will respond. They may appear as a full-body apparition, not at all, or anything between those two extremes. (Origins: attempting to contact the dead has taken many forms and has been practiced throughout all of human history; this specific ritual and spell is original work)

Crystals and Stones

- Apache Tear Obsidian: protection, grief - Black Onyx: safeguard against evil, death, grief - Carnelian: courage, power to conquer, strength - Howlite: memory, knowledge, perspective - Jasper: protection, strength, healing - Moss agate: new beginnings, emotional balance - Opal: balance, justice, harmony - Quartz: amplifies energy, clarity, wisdom - Selenite: protection, harmony, healing - Sodalite: truth, calm - Topaz: joy, fortune, friendship

Dark Witches

A brief mention in Burning Yarrow alludes to the existence of "dark" witches, bad or evil witches. Nothing more is known to the reader.

Devil's Trap

A sigil drawn onto a surface that allows whatever is summoned into that space to be trapped, on the condition that the entity is demon in origin. Usually, a pentagram forms the majority of the sigil. (Origins: unknown, but popularised by the television show Supernatural)

Eddie's Grounding Spell

This spell, written by Eddie, reconnects the witch with the natural world, providing healing and a sense of release from pain and grief. Core an apple and fill it with the root of the black hellebore. Let it air overnight, by moonlight. In the morning, wrap the apple in willow, then cook until the apple is soft and falling apart. Remove the hellebore root and turn to powder with a mortar and pestle. Collect the dust and blow it into the wind. (Origins: adapted from an apple/hellebore root spell from Occult Botany: Sédir's Concise Guide to Magical Plants by Paul Sédir)

Eddie's Protection Spell

Partially unlisted; while performed in Burning Yarrow, this spell is not known, in its entirety, to the reader. Reader describes it as, "just the bastard daughter of the forest gate spell and other protection charms." Known components include black cat bone and sage. The effect of the spell creates a bubble around the protected, in which anything that is aimed at them with ill intent will rebound and be directed back at the assailant. This works for both magic and physical violence. (Origins: original spell)

✨ Enchanted Seeds

A spell to build a home. In a jar, soak an apple seed, apple slices, moonwater, and the petals of the homeowner's favourite flower. Let it sit for seven days. When the seven days are up, retrieve the seed and plant it where the home should bloom. As you work, recite the spell. The home will exist within 1-3 days. I plant these seeds, Where homes will grow, By moonlight And good intentions. In this time, And in this place, A coven new Offers protection. (Origins: Source: original ritual and spell)

Freezing Spell

Unlisted; while performed in Burning Yarrow, this spell is not known to the reader. It does involve some sort of powdered potion/dust.

Healing a Hex Spell

In a mortar and pestle, combine elecampane petals, hawthorn berries, four-leaf-clovers, honey, moon water, and a drop of witch's blood harvested by a hawthorn needle. Add fur/hair of the individual to be unhexed. The potion is painted over a small mirror, which the hexed holds. They must also hold a piece of sodalite. Recite the spell. Before the final two lines, wipe the mirror clean. Finish the spell, then the individual will look upon the mirror and find themselves unhexed. “Hear now the words of this witch, secrets hidden in the night. The oldest of Gods are evoked here; the great work of magic is sought. On this day and in this hour, I call upon the ancient power. The truth of this life is to be revealed, And let the damage be healed. So shall it be. So shall it be. So shall it be.” The spell's effects do not prove to be permanent in Burning Yarrow. (Origins: original potion and ritual; spell wording adapted from the Dominus Trunus spell from the television show Charmed)

Healing Power

The witches of Burning Yarrow each possess their own individual specialty power. Reader can heal with their hands, although spells and other mystic works enhance healing.

Herbs, Plants, and the Natural World's Offerings

- Acanthus: immortality, enduring life - Apple: connection to the earth, wisdom - Bat claw: used in transformation spell (ethically sourced, of course) - Black-eyed Susan: survival, justice, endurance - Black hellebore: purification, healing, used in magic salve - Butterfly weed: letting go of grief, enlightenment - Cedarwood: protection, purification - Chicory: amplifies magic, relates to time - Crocodile scales: strength, warrior (ethically sourced, of course) - Cyclamen: devotion - Daffodil: forgiveness, rebirth, hope - Echinacea flowers: health, healing - Elecampane: dispels violent energy, enhances psychic power - Four leaf clover: luck - Green milkweed: harvested for its silk - Ground black cat bone: luck (ethically sourced, of course) - Hawthorn: love, protection - Honey: spiritual binding - Honeysuckle: love - King protea: transformation, change, boldness - Moondust: amplifies magic - Moon water: cleanse, aid in spiritual transformation - Mud: used as a binding agent - Mulberry: "I will not survive you" - Mugwort: medicinal, smudging, psychic boost, wards off evil - Ornithogalum (Star of Bethlehem Flower): atonement, reconciliation, redemption, forgiveness - Rue: "herb-of-grace," repentance, healing - Sage: health, wisdom, immortality, luck, cleansing - Salt: purification, protection, healing - Sassafras: protection, healing, many uses - Sweetgrass: purifies through burning; heals and cleanses - Tacca chantrieri (black bat flower): healing, tied to blood work (e.g. aids in lowering blood pressure) - Tansy: immortality, declaration of war - Vervain: purification, protection against evil spirits, use in rituals, healing, a.k.a. "the holy herb" - White baneberry (doll's eyes): used in spells involving death, used in rituals; pain relief, necromancy - Willow: release from grief and pain - Woundwort: healing, a.k.a. "heal-all" - Yarrow: healing, love - Yellow carnation: rejection, contempt

Lustrating Ritual

Lustration rituals are ceremonies to purify the individual. The logistics of the ritual vary depending on context. (Origins: Ancient Rome and Greece) In Burning Yarrow, it is the name of the ceremony where a witch lets her old name die and is rebirthed with her modern name and identity. Witches do this to ensure their immortality is kept secret and to stay connected to the human world.

Memory Removal Spell

Unlisted; while performed in Burning Yarrow, this spell is not known to the reader.

Name Finding Spell

Burn a blank piece of paper in a candle's flame while reciting the spell. Close the burning paper in your fist and once recited, open to reveal the name written on undamaged paper. “Guiding spirits, lend charity, Lend not misgivings, lend clarity. What is in a name, a truth be told, What he answers to, let unfold.” (Origins: original ritual; spell wording adapted from the Lost and Found spell and Piper's Memory Spell from Charmed)

Other Forms of Magic

The craft of witches is not the only form of magic or supernatural in Burning Yarrow. Aside from the Upside Down and related matter, the beliefs and craft of the Romani people are acknowledged as real. Warlocks, werewolves, and fae also exist. Some cryptids appear to be real also (e.g. Bigfoot, chapter 17).

"Per magica, oriri me"

This loosely translates to 'by magic, I rise' in Latin. A witch can use this spell to temporarily levitate.

Reading Tea Leaves

Also known as tasseography. A method of divination. Mentioned in Burning Yarrow as a practice used, but not one considered especially valid or reliable. (Origins: unknown, possibly pre-dates many Ancient cultures)

Recovering Lost Memories Spell

Potion ingredients are unknown to the reader. Weave a crown from chicory flowers and stems. While you work, recite the first part of the spell. “In our memories, Our magic is stored. And of mine, An act abhorred. Petals blue. Night new. Remember me, As I remember you.” Put the crown on, recite the second part of the spell, then drink the prepared potion. You will fall into a deep sleep and wake naturally with your memories restored. “In our memories, Our self is forged. And of mine, Let them be restored. Rosemary green. Witch blood clean. What has come to pass, Let it now be seen.” (Origins: original spell and ritual)

Rituals for a New Home

- Ring a bell: clears stagnant energy (Origins: unknown, possibly Ancient China) - Letting milk and rice boil over on the stove: ensures prosperity and good luck (Origins: [South] Indian culture, date unknown) - A blue porch: wards off evil and lost spirits (Origins: Gullah/Geechee people of Lowcountry, U.S.A.) - Salt circle: creates a mystic protective border (Origins: unknown) - Smudging: cleanses a space and promotes positive energy (Origins: likely practiced throughout all of human history)

Scrying

A form of crystal gazing or crystallomancy. The use of a crystal (often quartz) to divine a truth. For example, a quartz held over a map will find a location related to a witch's search. (Origins: likely practiced throughout all of human history)

"Slán agus ádh mór, a chara"

This loosely translates to 'goodbye and good blessings/God bless/good luck, my friend' in Irish Gaelic.

Temporary Transformation Spell

Brew a potion consisting of white baneberry, sage, powdered tacca chantrieri, and other ingredients unknown to the reader. Have the transformer hold a piece of moss agate while they drink the potion. The witch may recite the first line of the spell to transform them, while the second half returns them to their true form (the second half is unknown to the reader). "Sic fiat" The spell roughly translates to ‘let it be’ in Latin. (Source: original potion, spell, and ritual)

The Witches Who Came Before

In Burning Yarrow, this title refers to witches in the coven who have passed on but can still deliver warnings and advice through mystic means. As witches in this story are immortal, for a witch to pass on they had to either purposefully move to another plane of existence or have met a very powerful and traumatic ending. Either road taken has led these witches to be incredibly wise and see beyond the limits of time and space.

Tarot Readings

A form of cartomancy, where a witch will use a deck of tarot cards to gain insight into the past, present, and future. (Origins: widely debated; proper referencing is beyond the scope of this Grimoire)

Transformation Hex

A complex spell. Please find this Grimoire listing here. (Origins: original potion, ritual, and spell)

Unhexing Spell

A complex spell with permanent results. Please find this Grimoire listing here. (Origins: original potion and ritual; spell wording adapted from the Suxen Banishment spell and Astarte Vanquishing spell from Charmed)

Vecna's Healing-to-Kill Spell

Combine echinacea, elecampane, rue, sweetgrass, and yarrow in a mortar and pestle to create a paste. While combining, recite the spell. Apply the potion directly onto the scars of Vecna's body while continuing to recite the spell. His skin and body will begin to heal, reverting him to his former self (i.e. 001/Henry) - a being much easier to kill by conventional violence and magic. “Seven years of cheated death, Felt deep pain but kept his breath. These plants I crush and bend to will, Impart my magic, Let me heal to kill.” (Origins: original potion and ritual; spell wording adapted from the Familiar Warlock Vanquishing Spell from Charmed)

Wiccan Rede

The Wiccan Rede is a statement that outlines the system of morality of paganism and other forms of witchcraft. The most common and well-known Rede is, "An ye harm none, do what ye will." (Origins: debated, source of one version here)

Witchfire

In the early 18th Century world of Burning Yarrow, a Romanian witch discovered/invented a method to gravely injure vampires, something previously impossible. Uttering the spell conjures a ball of flames, a.k.a. witchfire, in the palm of a witch's hand. The spell is Latin and roughly translates to, 'light of the sun will burn this evil.' "Lux solis urere hic malum" (Origins: this spell and lore are original pieces)

Witch's Gate

Also known as a forest gate. A circular doorway made of tree branches and sticks, that when passed through, offers safe travels. Once through it, the individual exists within a metaphorical bubble; the bubble will take them through the protected space untouchable to monsters and foes. After the structure is built, a circle of salt, sage, ground black cat bone, and mud is painted around it while the spell is recited. “Bloodline magic, far and wide, Enchant this doorway so friends may hide. Leaf and petal, wood and stone, Protect our friends, return them home.” (Origins: forest gates have been found across the globe for hundreds of years, their purpose is unknown; original potion; spell structure/wording inspired by the Enchantment Spell from Charmed)

Yarrow and Rue Healing Spell

The injured touches jasper and rue while a blue candle (for protection and spirituality) is lit. While the spell is recited, a sprig of yarrow is burnt. Let the candle burn entirely. "I hold you in my heart, and wrap you in my love. Heal thyself, dear friend, in this circle thereof. From earth I pulled this plant, as an offering I hope they receive. Health and hearth, and from sickness a reprieve." (Origins: original spell and ritual)

#Mine #Burning Yarrow #Witchcraft

[psychic-refugee]

Make up of Nevermore Students

Anyone with sunglasses = Vampire

Anyone with a toque = Gorgon

Anyone with gem eyes = Siren

Anyone without a face = Silent Horrors (I call them Faceless in WGF, but I like this more and may edit).

Werewolves and Psychics have no discernible physical, everyday “tell,” with the possible exception if they’re rowdy and many have poofy hair, then that = Werewolf? Otherwise, we can only tell lycanthropy when there’s a full moon.

Let’s assume anyone with any kind of mental power is considered a Psychic. Example: Eugene has apikinesis, the mental ability to control bees. Rowan had telekinesis, the ability to move the physical world with his mind. Rowan calls his mother a “Seer,” but we know she had a book and writing. This could simply be a journal of her visions, like Wednesday. It could be psychography, psychic premonitions via writing. It could be the drawing, automatic drawing, and she wrote what she thought it meant. It could be a mixture of both.

Other Outcasts with no physical, everyday tell, would be Shapeshifters.

Enid is quoted “…to educate people like us. Outcasts, freaks, monsters…fill in your favourite marginalized group here.”

I think this opens up any type of being for consideration of being an Outcast, but if we can only use what is shown from the television show/source material:

Other Outcasts that may exist but are not canonically confirmed.

Witches – The Frumps and Addamses are mediums and necromancers. Mediums because they can speak with the dead. Morticia says they get guidance from their ancestors and Wednesday attempts to call on Goody Addams. Goody Addams’ book, a grimoire, had a curse to lock Crackstone in his coffin, and a reanimation spell that raised Crackstone. The Outcasts just never specifically say Witch, but Crackstone accuses Goody of witchcraft.

I consider Mediums and Necromancers types of witchcraft because they require a spell or ritual. If Wednesday could simply call a ghost to her or raise the dead with her mind, then I’d consider those Psychic powers.

Hydes are confirmed, but I don’t know if they’re Shapeshifters or a type of Were. The latter being any kind of being that shifts into a monster under specific circumstances while Shapeshifters can shift at will. Werewolves, under a full moon. Hydes when under duress or tapping into the worst part of themselves.

The canon states that Hydes are “unleashed” by a traumatic event, or via chemical induction, the latter more in line with the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. So, are they Outcasts prior to their transformation, or are they Normies? Can anyone become a Hyde?

Tyler’s mother did attend Nevermore, but while Hydes are banned, they don’t question what kind of Outcast one is when applying…guess they really needed that tuition money. LOL. So, it could be that Hydes are any type of Outcasts, perhaps Psychics and that’s why Xavier had dreams of the monster, prior to being Unleashed. Perhaps the potential to become a Hyde is in everyone, or it runs in families. Or they could be their own distinct line of Outcasts that may or may not ever be Unleashed. We don’t know for sure. When was Mrs. Galpin’s Hyde unleashed? Was she a Hyde at Nevermore or was a regular Psychic and that’s why she was allowed in? Who was her master? If you traumatize or drug yourself, are you your own master?

If you’re looking at background characters and they’re not obviously a Vampire, Siren, or Gorgon, then your canonical options are: Psychic, Witch (implied), Werewolf, Shapeshifter, or Hyde.

#wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #nevermore academy #nevermore reference #fanfiction references #tyler galpin #francoise galpin #rowan laslow #xavier thorpe #Enid Sinclair #Morticia Addams

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Tortured Bitch • Black Cloud in the Sky? [NO SPOILERS] • Conduit - (13th Song About *****) - Anything Else. [Unfinished] • Reverie [JH Ligation Experiment 1] • Total Paralysis at the First Notes of Immaterial Crying and Ashamed And Wishing I Could Disappear Into the Lights [JH Ligation Experiment 2] • (Lost Kids) The Juvenile Hormone. I. Endocrine Activity of the Corpora Allata of the Adult Cecropia Silkworm • 2,020 Knives • 2,020 Hands • (From A Different World) The Juvenile Hormone. II. Its Role in the Endocrine Control Of Molting, Pupation, and Adult Development in the Cecropia Silkworm • Glass - Remain[fSl]Rust (,,Fade Away'') • I Don't Want to Hurt You (14) • Wake [Psychography Experiment 24-04-19 I] - World Doesn't Hold Together • Breathe [Psychography Experiment 24-04-19 II] - NONE OF THIS IS ABOUT TR**S SHIT • Someday (Dear ******) - World Doesn't Come Apart • September (***e* **** *a***m* Chambers **** ????) - Distance Holding World Together • Strangers - Silk Thread Growing Through the Glass Tube Bisecting the Abdomen of a Cecropia Moth Hatched in Captivity - DNA - Nothing Here. • broken wires • An Ocean

Spotify ♪ Bandcamp ♪ YouTube

#hyltta-polls #polls #artist: ada rook #language: english #decade: 2020s #Electro-Industrial #Post-Industrial #Glitch Pop #Electroclash #Electropop #Noise Pop

[rainreads]

-Chelsea Dingman, from "Psychography", published in The Los Angeles Review.

#dark academia literature #dark academia aesthetic #poetry aesthetic #solitude #dark academia

[markrosewater]

When you or your company designs Commander decks, are they aimed at specific player psychographies?

Essentially yes, although more focused than just a psychographic.