#friday full moon spell

[the-corset-witch]

today is a full moon, on a friday, which is good for self love (and other love/lust matters) but I'm going to suggest a spell for self love

This is a super easy one, we need a slip of paper, a writing utensil, and if you're feeling fancy a bit of thread in a color you personally love & think represents the self love you want to have

We will take our writing utensil, we will write an affirmation on the bit of paper.

*If you are like me and feel better with almost too specific directions, here they are. My paper is the size of a business card folded 'hot dog' style (or horizontally, thank you google!), my pen color is black (what I had) and my affirmation is "I appreciate myself, even my flaws". I have chosen a baby pink embroidery thread- again, the thread is completely optional.*

Now, fold your slip of paper up nice and tight, however you like. I like to roll mine up like a little scroll.

If you've chosen to incorporate a bit of thread you will wrap & tie it around your affirmation. I like the number 3, so I wrap 3 times, and tie 3 knots, while repeating my affirmation 3 times. If you like a different number, go with it!

Final step... Go look up at the moon, and then leave it for the moon. If it's cloudy, that's fine, you can leave it outside to bask in natural energies all the same. Tonight, for me, it is cloudy.

*If you want, you can tell the moon your affirmation, and thank her for helping you see something to love in yourself even in the darkest hours, which is how I end this spell, but you may choose to end it another way, if you like*

[dionysianivy]

₊˚ෆ 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟑𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐲𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 ༊*·˚

Blessed Friday 13th everyone ⊹.˚🪞🕯️♡

ꕥ Friday is often considered a powerful day for magic, especially when it comes to rituals and spells related to love, self-worth, and matters of the heart. This is because Friday is associated with Venus, the goddess of love, beauty, sensuality, and creativity. In Greek mythology, Venus is known as Aphrodite, embodying these same qualities. Many practitioners choose Friday to perform rituals that enhance self-love, deepen bonds with others, or attract new romantic connections.

ꕥ The number 13 holds special significance in many magical traditions, particularly due to its connection with the moon. There are 13 full moons each year, and the moon’s phases are often used to time rituals and spells. The number 13 is symbolic of the cycles of life, death, and also rebirth. When Friday the 13th arrives, the energies of Venus and the moon are aligning, making it an especially great day for love spells, honoring the divine feminine, and working with the cycles of the moon.

ꕥ Friday the 13th is seen as an opportune moment for both love and protection spells. The day’s reputation for bad luck can be turned into a source of power, as practitioners use its energy to ward off negativity and strengthen their protective efforts. By working and connecting with the transformative energy of the number 13, Friday the 13th becomes a perfect time for spiritual growth, personal transformation, and positive change.

ꕥ In many traditions, the divine feminine and goddess energy are revered. On Fridays, and particularly on Friday the 13th, people often honor Aphrodite through rituals, offerings, and meditation, tapping into her powers of love, vitality, and sexuality. This day offers a unique opportunity to connect with the goddess and celebrate the feminine.

Tips♡

[itsonlydana]

Love Spells and Fang-tastic Kisses (A Hauntingly Romantic Tale) | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑🦇

You're invited to Thranduil's halloween party; a fangtastic opportunity to get closer to the man you've been harbouring a crush on

tags/ warnings: none, modern!au, Thranduil in a hot vampire costume

word count: 8,2k

an: hello!! happy Halloween! This is totally not a month late!! We shall ignore and celebrate Halloween!

+ masterlist + rules +🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

You're invited to a Night of Haunting Delights!

Dearly Departed,

As the brisk winds of autumn carry the faint whispers of otherworldly echoes, and the luminous full moon bathes the night in an unsettling glow, we extend a chilling invitation for you to join us at a Halloween gathering that guarantees to send shivers down your spine!

Attire: Elegantly Eerie or Ghoulishly Glamorous

“Tilda if you want your braid to be straight you have to hold still for a second!”

The girl in front of you nods obediently but a few seconds later the wobbling of her head starts again as she grows impatient. Five minutes ago, after she kept reaching back with her hands when the braiding pinched a little, you had asked her to sit on her hands. What you didn't count on was that this would give the girl the wonderful opportunity to swing forward and backward, using the height difference that her hands gave her to the usually flat surface of the kitchen stool. 

You allow yourself another quick glance at the clock above the fridge and immediately regret it again when you see the time. 

It was already just after four, and while on any other Friday afternoon that was just the kickoff to the weekend, today didn't offer you much more time to have three children – four if you counted Bard – ready with costumes and makeup. 

Your eyes flitted from the clock to the invitation pinned to the fridge, surrounded by all kinds of paintings; the animals were Tildas, the planes had been drawn by Bain and there were a few more advanced watercolor sceneries that Sigrid had done, hung up with different shapes of magnets and while there was so much color the silver paper with the beautiful handwriting stood out in elegant monochromy.

Now, with the current time coming up closer to the one on the invitation, more than ever since the kids had brought it home from school a few weeks ago. 

The girl in front of you wiggles again and you bite down on the hair tie that you had to take away from her (she had offered to hold them while you braided but with her nervousness, she had dropped them two times until you had taken them again). 

“Tilly,” you groan out between clenched teeth, just barely catching the last centimetres of hair you had left before they slipped away and you could start from the beginning.

“Sorry Auntie,” the girl giggles, the sound so pure and full of excitement that the annoyance and stress disappear in a pink cloud full of love for her. “Are you done soon?” Tilda asks, already moving her head again to look back at you but you react fast and turn with the movement.

“One second–,” You hold the hair in one hand and grab the hair tie with the other, quickly securing the braid. When it falls down, you reach for the small mirror placed on the kitchen counter, holding it out so that Tilda can get a look at herself. Watching over her shoulder, you see the red-painted lips curve in a smile. 

“I look so pretty!” she exclaims, her eyes wide and sparkling, not just because of the glitter she wanted you to put on her eyelids. 

You laugh, tapping her red nose with one finger, “Yes you do! The prettiest scarecrow in the whole wide world”

She scrunches her nose, and takes one last look in the mirror before she hops down the stool with such speed that you nearly drop the mirror in order to catch her. But she lands safely on the floor, running off into the hallway, where you can hear her stomping up the stairs.

You hope she will only grab her stuff and be ready in ten minutes when you had planned to leave. 

Knowing her, you would need to send Sigrid to get her sister.

Halloween had been a lot easier a few years ago, when it had been just you and a bottle of wine alone on the couch, watching scary movies or the few times you'd gone out with work colleagues. Halloween at the Bowman's house, no, scratch that, Halloween in Esgaroth in general was incomparable to that.

Not that you would want to trade your life now for those years, not for any amount of money. 

When you moved from the bustling city of Gondor to the quiet seaside town of Esgaroth there hadn't been any more lonely nights, alone yes, you needed them from time to time, but never lonely. How could you be lonely if you had Tilda, Bain, and Sigrid in the neighbourhood? They were responsible for the move, including the change of apartment as well as job, if only indirectly. 

After their mother, and Bard's wife, had passed away, your brother had overworked himself trying to feed all four of them, taking on a second and third job next to his handyman one, which in itself had already taken up too much time. It had taken you too much to listen to how tired and completely exhausted he had sounded on the phone calls between you, which had diminished in their regularity. 

He didn't have to explicitly ask for your help, he was too stubborn for that, which is why you didn't let him know that you had quit your job (it had been unbearable and much too boring anyway) and your apartment (please, who wants to live in a multistoried building with a hundred tenants?!). You had just left one day with all your stuff in the car, rented a small vacation apartment in Esgaroth and rang the doorbell.

You had chosen a Sunday morning, the only morning of the week when he was not at work and far too tired to object much.

One week after that, Bard helped you move into the guest room. 

Not that you weren't extremely happy with the life you now lived, much cosier and full of laughter, family movie nights and stickers everywhere on your clothes, but right now you wished you could have imprinted your organized lifestyle from before on your brother.

“Bard? We should leave in like–” You watch the clock, debating on whether you should lie to give all of you enough time to finally get out the door. Hearing nothing but what sounded like chaos from upstairs, the answer was clear, “–in five minutes!”

Eh, close enough to the truth. 

A door slams somewhere, followed by the sound of boots on the carpeted stairs that barely muffle the steel soles. “Coming!” you hear Bard's grave voice getting louder the closer he gets, “Have you seen my hat? I swear I left it here..”

“On the sofa.”

“What? Who put it there?”

You would have laughed if you didn't hear a loud crash from upstairs at that moment.

“Everything's fine!” Sigrid yells just as you and Bard nearly run into each other on the way to check whatever happened and if someone is hurt. The edge of Bard's cowboy hat, now safely placed on his curly mess of hair, slams into your forehead, not enough to really hurt but it slows you down abruptly. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Bard takes a step back and adjusts his hat. “What are you doing up there?” he yells, casting an apologetic glance at you as he steps back onto the first step. “I'll be right back down.”

Another glimpse at the clock. 

“Tell the little monsters they'd best come straight with you or I'll tell all the neighbours to give their candy to Legolas!” you raise your voice enough that it would travel all the way to the three children's rooms. Immediately there is an indignant shout, a proclamation of “You wouldn't dare!” (Bain), “Legolas would never do that to us!” (Tilda) and “I can't get my dress zipped, Da!” (Sigrid).

It's a miracle how you and Bard manage to be out the door relatively on time with all the kids both costumed and ready with makeup, and equipped with bags for their candy. 

You don't question it any further, happy that you finally made it and with few incidents. You had already been out with one foot when Bain ran in again because he had forgotten his proton pack for his Ghostbuster costume. After that Sigrid had to go to the bathroom and last but not least under the laughter of the others you went in again to exchange the cape that had come with your witch costume against a far warmer black coat. 

You are glad that you did, even if it cost you time that you truly didn't have.

October has made itself comfortable in the small town, decorating the trees on the side of the road scarlet red, pumpkin orange and a sulfurous yellow and the cold winds that swirl through the colourful trees are biting at your legs, despite the tights you wear under the dress. 

“Shit, I hope they have a warm punch,” Bard leans towards you, careful that the curse doesn't reach his kids that are walking a few meters in front of you, awing at the town's Halloween decorations.

You look from them to your brother. “Have you met them? Of course, they will have warm punch, jeez, I am sure we will have mulled wine served to us in barrels.”

It wasn't an understatement, last year the hosts of what must be the biggest Halloween party in the area (not just in Esgaroth, it was bigger than the ones in most cities on the coast) had shipped in the most expensive bottles of cider and even the simplest choices of drinks like water or coke had been served in crystal flutes. 

Bard grins, clearly remembering the cider as well, or the effect it had. By the third glass, when all the kids had been tucked into their beds in the mansion and the adults had gathered outside again, there had been one too many drinking contests with the result of a shared hangover. 

“I can't wait to see what Thranduil has planned for this year,” Bard muses, raising a hand to scratch the stubble of his beard. He turns his head slightly in question. “He didn't tell you anything?”

“What?” you ask in what was probably a much higher note than usual because Sigrid whips her head around alarmed. You wave her off with a tight smile and lower your voice, “Why–  why should he tell me anything?”

Bard's eyebrows wander so high up his forehead that they should disappear under his stetson any second. “No, don't do that. Don't deflect and worm your way out of this. He comes into the coffee shop daily and I know he stays for a chat.” At your incredulous look, he shrugs his shoulders, “What? The kids talk.. and before you tell them off for snitching–” his lips curve into a smirk “Thranduil mentioned himself that he enjoys staying for his cup of tea.”

“I wouldn't tell them off!” you protest, completely overrun by the sudden emotions cursing through your body like it's a goddamn rollercoaster.

“No, you are too nice for that,” Bard says, drawing a roll of your eyes as a reaction from you, “–and far too flustered that you would speak to them right now.”

Any objection dies on your tongue as another particularly cold breath of wind hits your face and the heat in your cheeks burns indisputable; your denial is no match to it. Your stubbornness, however, steps into the fight with her hands raised, ready to at least try and defend yourself in any way she knows how.

“So what?” you attempt to sound nonchalant. “There are many customers that do not want to leave immediately. They say they like the atmosphere. It's cosy and comfortable.”

When you think of the coffee shop that hired you a few years ago, those adjectives were not the only ones coming to mind- the moss-green facade made it special, tugged in between a white hairdresser and a grey washing saloon, the plants ranging from honeysuckle growing on the walls to seasonal potted plants littering every window sill and the steps up to the dark blue door made it colourful and alive. 

It was however very cosy and comfortable as well once you stepped inside, with cushioned stools and wooden tables decorated with candles in coloured glasses. There were benches under the windows, and a leather couch tugged away in one corner of the room with two giant armchairs where students would hang out during their break you truly love the warm feeling that just thinking about the shop brings to you but you can't help it; your thoughts trail to the man that would come into the coffee shop every morning and sit at the few bar stools at the counter. 

Right where you worked, and waited for him.

Before, your mind would only conjure the big windows, the sound, and smell of coffee getting crushed in the machine and the chatter of the customers but now, and damn that man for messing with you with that, you think about golden sunlight filtering through the window and falling on silver hair, about tea steaming and the flowery scent of it, about the low hums of appreciation when Thranduil would slowly sip his tea, the cup looking tiny cradled between his big and yet slender hands. 

“Yeah sure,” Bard laughs and the familiar sound of it leads you back, out of the coffee shop into the night; Halloween night. “That's what keeps the customers there, right.” He earns himself a well-deserved nudge in the side from your elbow “Ow!” he yelps dramatically, rubbing the spot that you slightly grazed.

“What was that supposed to mean?” you glare at him, eyebrows pinched together, “And I hope for your own well being that you're gonna tell me it is because of the coffee and the delicious pastries.”

“–or the woman smiling at everybody like she gets paid for it.”

“I get paid for it!”

“Not enough to be that happy every morning, sunshine coming out your–”, Bard stops himself before the crude word slips out his mouth but the sentence finishes itself in both your minds and that's enough for you to hit him again. It doesn't do anything, your flat hand catches just his upper arm and not forcefully, you two were never really ones for the whole wrestling siblings act.

His upper body shakes with laughter as you shake your head, clicking your tongue against your teeth like that would help the smile fight its way up in the corners of your mouth. “Obviously I am nice to the customers, they pay good money for a good cup of coffee.”

“Or tea.”

“Or tea,” you roll your eyes again because of course, Bard has to throw in another hit with the fence about Thranduil. “Just because you are mister grumpy, grumbling while you work and avoiding talking to your customers doesn't mean I have to do that as well.”

That you bring up the subject of his work is normally enough for him to change the topic, not that he hates working as a handyman, going around town fixing leaky pipes and sinks or straightening up shelves and letter boxes, but his boss wasn't as nice as yours and that left him working far too much for (what you think) is far too less money. On any other day he would quickly move on to another topic but tonight he has his teeth dug into what was in his mind, the relationship between you and Thranduil Greenleaf. 

The truth is that you don't know what Thranduil thinks of you, you on the other side are completely and utterly swooned by him. Hell, when you moved to Esgaroth the last thing you had on your mind was falling in love and then, a few weeks into the new job, in comes this tall, beautiful man with shoulders that you want to lean into and cerulean eyes that pierce their way into your soul and he orders a fucking tea.

In a coffee shop. 

At first, you thought you hadn't heard him right, then he'd cocked one dark eyebrow, his manicured nails tapped against the wooden counter and his deep voice had repeated the order for “His tea”.

Thankfully, your coworker Feren had jumped into the conversation before you'd started crying out of pure confusion about who the man was and why he would order tea in the middle of the midday rush when you weren't even sure if and where the shop stored tea.

The next day the man was back, this time with an apology about his rushed behaviour the day before and when he ordered his tea, a flowery combination of what smelled like roses, cherry and green tea, you told him off for behaving far too entitled for someone who wanted something from you. 

After that Thranduil came back every day, ordering his tea and sitting on the barstool, chatting with you while you prepared coffee, wrapped up pastries and tried not to glance over at the beautiful man giving you his whole attention.

Well, not that often. Once in a while, you allowed yourself a sneak and were gifted a small smile and sometimes a wink. 

“Yes, let's come back to Thran for a second.”

You groan.

Bard laughs. 

“Did he or didn't he tell you about the party?”

“He told me nothing,” you say, fingers crossed inside the pocket of your coat. It's not entirely true, he really hadn't told you anything but he had asked you some things. What you would want to drink, what you think is a better activity for the children, apple bobbing or pumpkin bowling? 

The lie, half-lie, half-truth, comes out sure enough and Bard huffs, white clouds escaping his nose and disappearing into the rosy evening light of the lowering sun. He stuffs his hands into his pockets as well and you can see the second-guessing of his outfits happening on his face. It's a nice costume, the nearly all-black outfit except for a leather belt with a golden buckle, some silver decorations on his stetson and the jacket that he is wearing. He probably would have chosen another, slightly warmer costume if it hadn't been for Tilda who wanted her dad to wear the golden star that she had made him in school and that's now proudly shining on his chest. 

You smile and link your arms, pulling your brother with you as you catch up with the kids that already started trick-or-treating at the houses on the way.

When you arrive at the mansion its heavy iron gates are wide open, pumpkins with what probably were supposed to be scary faces cut into them by a wobbly kids hand sit on the ivy covered pillars. They stare down at you as you turn onto the gravelly road adorned with orange-glowing lanterns, the kids sprinting and kicking up dirt and gravel with the warm boots that Bard made them wear no matter the costume. You can hear them awing and gasping, and when Bard and you turn another corner and the tall pines make way for the mansion sitting on the end of the road, even your mouth falls open.

The fountain in the circle in front of the stairs is coloured an eerie red, illuminated by the lights inside the lower bowl, and the texture looks easily mistaken for blood from far away. Instead of the usual birds using the fountain as their water source, fake bats are hanging from the upper bowl, their glowing red eyes shining through the water rushing in front of them. 

The whole garden is decorated accordingly for the festivities; spiderwebs cover the trees and bushes, skeletons sit on the benches, gravestones are splattered here and there on the lawn and everywhere are little ghost fairy lights strung from tree to tree. 

The house itself screams Halloween as well, with flickering lights in the windows, more cobwebs stretching over the dark roof tiles of the front porch, and the small tower where Thranduil's son and the children's friend Legolas has his room. The ivy that grows outside at the gate grows on the white brick of the house itself as well, climbing up the walls and when you get closer you can see the (hopefully) fake spiders nested inside the green vines. The door to the house is wide open, letting a pool of golden light fall onto the porch but instead of going inside Bard tugs you along with him towards the small group of adults milling around on the lawn around a small campfire. 

“Good evening!” he proclaims and tips his hat. 

You give everyone a small wave, eyes scurrying over everyone in search of a particular someone who doesn't seem to be there at the moment. Though you don't know if it's a relief or disappointment, your heart leaps in your throat at the realization. Arm still linked with Bards, you stop at the fire pit. 

It's the same constellation of people as most years, mostly parents from the children's friends who got together in the ways that parents always make acquaintances. Elrond (dressed as a pirate with a ridiculously big hat and a fake pirate sitting on his slim shoulders) and his wife Celebrían who matches his costume with a puffy blouse, leather trousers and a sword dangling next to her leg were the first parents you met when you started bringing the kids to school. Their daughter, Arwen, waited for Sigrid and Bain and her parents had roped you into a conversation while they wandered into the school, Arwens hand finding Sigrids naturally. 

Then there are Thorin and his husband Bilbo, Thorin who seems to be dressed the warmest in a werewolf suit, and Bilbo, who wears a green overall with flowers pinned all over it (“I am a gardener!” he could be heard multiple times throughout the night and every time Thorin would lean into the other part of the conversation and whisper loudly “He is secretly a garden fairy, you simply can't see his wings” and watch him so lovingly when Bilbo glared at him that you got jealous.)

Those two you met because Bain was in one class with Thorin's nephews Fíli and Kíli who he basically adopted as his sons at this point. Five years ago they came over for a school project and stayed because “Bilbo is trying out vegetarian recipes and we need meat if we want to become real strong men” (their words, mumbled with mouths full of the spaghetti and meatballs you had cooked that day). 

You really met them on a stroll through the park with Tilda, who decided that walking around and gossiping was much more fun than sliding and swinging on the playground, and you exchanged numbers so at least one person would inform them about the boy's whereabouts. Fíli and Kíli, as it seemed, sometimes just forgot to call home, and now you would ring them and chat when Bain and the two boys would huddle up around the living room table, their textbooks buried under snacks and instead of their pens they held controllers of Bain's game console in their hands. 

There were some other people around the garden, work colleagues of Elrond and Thranduils or parents that you never got as close with as these four, neighbours and friends of friends. 

However…

“Where did the children go?” you ask, head turning back to the parents after sweeping over the whole garden, resultless.

“Maybe the evil witch got them,” Thorin's joke about your costume goes right over your head, your eyes still wandering and meeting Bards in confusion. They weren't your kids but you felt the same chilling drop of your heart whenever you couldn't find them as if they were your own.

Elrond steps closer, nudging his chin toward the house. “Thranduil gathered them inside the house,” he explains with a comforting smile that eases all the worry. Of course, you didn't have to worry, this party is always safe and it's not like you let them loose in the woods for the wild animals (Ha Thorin, take that!).

“He wanted them to get some warm tea before we go out trick-or-treating,” Celebrían adds, uncrossing her arms in front of her chest when Elrond takes one hand in his. 

“That's good,” you feel and hear Bard exhale a deep breath, even he gets nervous when he doesn't know about Tilda's whereabouts despite the fact you are with his dearest friends right now. “So who drew the short straw and will go with them this year?”

The groan that leaves Thorin at the question is an answer in itself. 

Bilbo playfully pushes his hip against his husband. “We–” there was most definitely a bigger I in that word– “decided that Thorin should definitely go to keep an eye out for the boys. Kíli got into some trouble with another boy at the school and his house in on our route.”

“Yes,” Thorins mouth twitches into a smile “And judging by how dented the boys' pockets looked, I'm sure I'll find the eggs that mysteriously disappeared from the kitchen in them.” He gets another push from Bilbo and rolls his eyes “I won't do anything stupid, love.”

“Throwing eggs with them will count as stupid.”

“Then I will maybe do something stupid.”

“Don't you dare,” the smaller one shakes his head, wavy locks flying with the movement, “I really have no desire to deal with the parents tomorrow about why their windows are smudged.”

Thorin laughs, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Bilbo's temple while throwing a wink in Bard's direction. “No worries, they won't know who it was. Bain is a smart one and will figure that one out.”

“Oh, I am sure about that,” Bard nods, pride oozing out of the smile that grew when Thorin called Bain ‘smart’. 

You want to reply, step into the conversation to tell them that Bain will not partake in any egg throwing at all because of his smartness, thank you very much, when the children storm out of the house, loudly cackling and yelling, long and short feet trampling over to you fast enough that you get nearly crushed by a small fury of a straw scarecrow who crashes into your legs. Following her is Arwen, Elrond's girl, who is wearing a costume that must be snow-white, because hot on her trails is Thranduil's daughter Tauriel with a red-riding-hood cloak a fiery red like her hair, fluttering in the wind like a wild flag in a storm. Behind them comes Legolas, who, despite his braided hair and green Robin Hood outfit, bears such a resemblance to his father Thranduil that you falter for a moment. He seems to have had a growth spurt every time you meet him, slowly growing as tall as his dreams, his head ever closer to the clouds.

“We are going now!” Tilda yells up to you, her voice uncontrolled by all the excitement that has the girl bouncing up and down your side and tugging at your coat. “Are you coming with us, auntie? Are you? Or are you Da? Pleasee–”

Thorin, who steps away from the fire to Fíli and Kíli (both of them wear a Ghostbuster costume like Bain) rubs his hands through their hair, earning himself an outraged grumbling, “Aren't you two going to ask me nicely to join you?”

“I would beg you to stay here,” Fíli barks out, fixing his long blond hair by throwing it dramatically over his shoulder. “But your head is too thick for that to go through.”

“That and you are such a fool for Bilbo. He probably asked you to keep us in check,” Kíli adds, mimicking his brother with his own, brown hair. Even though they are not twins, their behaviour is so similar you could mistake them as such. 

“You–,” Thorin starts but Elrond jumps in: “Celebrían will be there as well and now.. you know not to anger her.” His sharp eyes bore into the boys, even without any real edge or warning in the sentence Kíli and Fíli shrink under the gaze, nodding fast enough that their heads must hurt, Elrond's stern, thin eyebrows surely help with that.

His wife and you share a smirk.

You turn back to Tilda and Bard, the latter is wiping away some crumbs of what must have been cookies out of the corner of her mouth, careful that he doesn't smear the lipstick the younger one is so proud to be wearing. 

“Tilly–,” you tug at the collar of the sweater she's wearing under her costume.

You don't get to finish the sentence, right as you open your mouth to tell her that you would love to come with her, you are abruptly silenced by the resonant sound of approaching boots from behind. The arrival of a newcomer, his voice a mellifluous, baritone timbre and a sonorous blend of charisma, sends a tantalizing shiver down your spine. “I had dared to hope she might grace me with her presence, as you delightful rascals torment the hapless neighbours.”

Tilda's eyes grow bigger as she looks up at the man standing behind you, the dark brown shining with admiration, and her mouth falls open in the tiniest ‘o’. 

It's not that difficult to impress her, she is an eight-year-old girl, all you had to do to win her heart was to tell her a story about the fairies and elves that supposedly lived in the forest next to your house, but that look in her eyes, awe in its purest form and you are sure that she would be singing praised about whatever she is seeing right now if there wasn't absolute shock mixed into her emotions as well. 

There are only few that get that reaction out of Tilda though and you slowly twist around. First, your shoes turn, squelching softly on the grass covered in leaves, then your legs, your upper body following the movement and finally, awfully cautiously, your head turns.

Your eyes land on a pair of boots.

Black. Leather. Boots.

And they don't seem to end as you lift your chin.

You know the man is tall, like really, really tall. Even Bard, who got luckier than you with the height genes, is a few inches shorter than Thranduil. If you stand next to Thranduil, it always requires you to look up.

Right now, as your legs buckle and you casually (it surely is anything but) drop one knee into the grass for more balance, the striking figure of Thranduil is looming over you. Your eyes travel upwards, up those damn boots on his endless legs, to the silvery corset that hugs his small waist tight, higher up over a ruffled white blouse with far to many buttons undone to be considered decent, and when you reach his face, your tongue lays heavy in your suddenly dry mouth. 

The smirk hiding in the corner of his mouth and the crowfeet next to icy blue eyes twinkling with mirk tell you that the asshole knows the effect the costume has on you.

“Good evening,”  Thranduil greets everyone but his gaze is locked on you. “I didn't know it’s witching hour already,” His lips curve more, flashing a row of pearly white teeth and if the black cape swaying around his body isn't expressive enough, the smile reveals two extraordinarily sharp canines, pointing down at you almost predatory.

You swallow hard enough that your throat protests. When you speak there is still a roughness to your voice that surely anyone around you must be able to detect: “Aren't you supposed to lay in some dirt until the sun sets? I wouldn't want anyone to clean up your ashes,” and when you can't fight the smile that threatens to break out on your lips anymore, you add a cheeky, “Count Greenleaf."

Next to you Thorin snorts and Bard groans.

“If you two would pause the flirting for just a second,” your brother's voice cuts through whatever had been building up there because your eyes snap to him.

“We weren't flirting!” you say at the same time as Thranduil nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders: “One second should be fine.”

The look you send him is supposed to be threatening but all it archives is another smirk from the tall blonde man. 

“Back to the question,” Bard sends you a wink that has you fletching your teeth in his direction “I think Thorin, Celebrían and me will go with you, Tilly-bear.”

“Yes, and I think Bilbo wanted to help me prepare the games for when you come back,” the man addressed nodded dutifully, not an ounce of not a bit of malice in his face and yet you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Here stood probably the smartest people you knew and they didn't even try to hide what they were up to. 

Of course, you could have seen it coming, in the last few years it had always happened that you and Thranduil were suddenly left alone. At Sigrid's birthday party, Bard sent you off to buy more garlands, only for you to run into Thranduil at the supermarket, whom Bard had asked about the very same thing. Another time, Elrond and Celebrían both had to cancel a breakfast out of the blue, so it ended up being just you and Thranduil sitting together. It seemed like everyone was conspiring behind your back to force something into existence that was growing so beautifully slowly.

Now all you can do is smile and nod, while you kiss Tilda on the cheek (“I will try to ask Lady Galadriel if she has your favourite chocolate,” she whispers into your ear like a secret promise), ruffle Bain's hair despite the fact that he always shakes the care you put into styling the short brown mop away as soon as your hand leaves his head, help Sigrid with the zipper of her Mary Shelley dress and let her pull you into a hug (“If you want me to abandon Da somewhere on his own, you just have to say the word,” she mumbles and nods into Thranduil's direction. “I will be fine,” you assure her. When you want to let her go, she smiles encouragingly: “Don't let us be the reason you hold back from going after what you want. I'm pretty sure Bain wouldn't mind having another boy his age around the house.”

You hug her just a tiny bit tighter, wondering when the hell she grew up.)

Bard only gets another light shove, as well as a threatening warning that you would hide all of his work tools if he steals the kids' candy, and then they are off, disappearing down the gravely path winding through the trees and you watch until the laughter and howling grow quiet. 

Someone, and you know exactly who it is by the crunching sound of leaves under heavy boots, the scent of a rich perfume hitting your nose without having to turn around, steps next to you. “They are not very subtle, are they?” Thranduil hums, and your cheeks go up in flames again.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you deny, forcing a calm tone into your voice. 

“Come,” Thranduil says. He holds out an arm, an invitation you gladly take. The sight of him, all dressed up in this costume with fangs and silvery blond hair flowing down his back, is enough for your legs to consider giving up under you; you appreciate the arm not just for the gesture but for the feeling of his muscles underneath your palm as well.

“Where to?” you ask, yet you know that no matter the answer, you will follow wherever. Sigrids words have made themselves comfortable in your mind, and the night, coming upon you on the slow walk to the mansion in beautiful tones of pink and purple in the sky, feels magical. 

“I did not lie before, even though I was tempted,” Thranduil says “There are a few more things to be done and I was a little bit selfish in wanting your help especially.”

This time, you don't ignore the warmth settling in your stomach that his words cause, instead you embrace it, use it. “Well, I am sure that while the others are maybe capable, this witch here” – and you point to yourself with the free hand – “has a touch of magic that will surely be better than anyone else.”

He chuckles, seemingly agreeing in the form of a low hum. “Witch, you truly are captivating, making me wonder if being wicked has ever looked so irresistibly appealing,” he flirts right back, as openly as he never did before. Or maybe he did. Maybe all those times he complimented you in the coffee shop or asked for a smile to sweeten up his tea were not just niceties (it was what you told yourself every time, a reassuring 'He doesn't mean it like that' to hold yourself back and not kiss him senseless), maybe he really did like you.

Motivated by a sudden rush of adrenaline and giddiness, you tug at his arm, beaming up at him. “Count Dracula would be envious of the charisma you bring to that costume, Count Greenleaf,” you giggle, nearly shocking yourself with the sound.

You reach the steps up to the front porch of the mansion just that moment. You take the first step, Thranduil though, stops and while it's not the biggest difference in height, when you turn around to ask him why he stopped, you have a direct line of sight with the fangs biting down on his lip. 

“I don't know who this Dracula is or what you mean with a costume,” he leans closer, finally taking that step and growing taller before you. “But I will take the compliment nonetheless. It's not every night that an enchanting woman compliments me.”

He grins an uncharacteristically lopsided grin, boyish and far from the snobby, rich persona he sometimes falls into and the laugh bursts out of your chest. His statement was far from the truth, he must be the most lusted-after man in Esgaroth (it didn't help that he was a stupidly rich single father, drop dead gorgeous with soft features, strong shoulders and a voice that made a woman's heart tremble). More than enough times you had become a witness to a poor soul making their way up to Thranduil when he was sitting on his spot at the counter. Their faces were sometimes nervous, sometimes determined but no matter in what way they came onto him he never accepted a number or agreed to a date.

He did however accept the compliments that rained onto him. 

Walking into the mansion, you are confronted with what can only be described as the target Halloween decoration section. The dimly lit hall is illuminated primarily by the soft, flickering glow of antique chandeliers that have been fitted with blood-red candles. Their warm, dancing flames cast haunting shadows on the cream-colored wallpaper, adorned with intricate, spiderweb-like patterns that seem to writhe in the low light.

Upon entering, you can't help but notice the intricately carved mahogany staircases that rise on either side, their ornate bannisters entwined with artificial cobwebs, and the steps littered with pumpkins and more candles. The velvet drapes on the large windows are heavy and dark, adding an air of foreboding mystery to the space.

Throughout the hall, life-sized, macabre figures dressed in costumes stand at attention, like sentinels of the night. Skeletons in tuxedos and gowns, ghouls with outstretched hands, and statuesque vampires adorn the corners, exuding an unsettling realism.

The air is heavy with the scent of incense and dried herbs, giving the impression of an ancient, mystical ritual underway. A wrought-iron candelabrum hangs from the ceiling, holding a cluster of flickering black candles that fill the air with an enchanting, spicy aroma.

Turning in a circle in the middle of the hall, your mouth falls wide open. 

“Thranduil,” you breathe out “How.. what.. don't tell me the whole house looks like this! No wonder I couldn't find any decorations,” you turn, throwing your hands in a wide gesture into the air and an airy laugh follows, “–you bought it all!”

Thranduil quirks an eyebrow and shakes his head, his hands neatly tucked behind his back. “No,” he starts, then corrects himself. “Well yes, the whole house looks like this, you would be surprised to see I fully committed myself as I now have a coffin instead of my bed upstairs. Legolas and Tauriel inspired me with their fantasies of a haunted mansion, they picked out the majority of what you see, though I shipped most of it into the country from a friend.”

“Because that is so much more reasonable,” you shoot back, skipping over that one part of his answer, still gazing around in wonder, “Where did this friend get these things? They look so real.”

You reach out to one of the skeletons in a fancy suit, barely hearing the: “Wait!” when a loud cackling booms through the hall, a ghostly and eerily sound. The squeak that you nearly scream bounces off the walls in the same way, rounding corners and expanding in reverberation. 

Thranduil is at your side in seconds. He extends his hand just a moment too late to prevent you from approaching the sensor. However, the shock coursing through your body, combined with the warmth of his presence so near, sends your hormones into a frenzy. 

Laughing uncontrollably, you fall into his chest, grasping for your own racing heart while feeling the irregular beat of his through the thin blouse. His cape drapes around you, as he joins in the laughter and lets his chin brush against your shoulder, folding himself across your back.

“I should probably adjust the sound settings,” his breath hits your neck and the thought of his lips (the fangs!!) this close to the delicate and sensible part of you sends a thrill to your body. 

“Maybe,” you answer, sounding very much as flustered as you are. “Or you could hide it somewhere you don't want any guest to wander and use it as an alarm system.”

Thranduil's hand, still holding yours, comes to your waist, guiding your own fingers over the tulle fabric of the skirt and it evokes a delicate and ethereal sensation as your fingers gently graze its surface. “Maybe,” he sounds rough, voice low and raspy, similar to boots sinking into gravel. When you take a deep breath and relax into his touch, let him stretch the flat and warm palm of his hand over yours, the tips of his fingers sinking into the fabric of the dress right on the curve of your hips, his voice evens out:

“I think it has found its purpose right here.”

“And that would be?”

“Luring alluring witches into my arms.”

“Do you plan to use that move on anyone else?” you ask, and suddenly feel his lips ghost over the soft skin on your shoulder.

The lips turn into a smile. “Why should I?” The words feel like they are spoken directly into your skin and the grin with which they are said leaves a heavy and burning imprint in your mind. Your eyes dart toward the ceiling, to the flickering candles as if you would pray to the gods in the heavens above even though the devil is standing right behind you- ready for your command. 

“It has worked once and I find myself quite satisfied with the results it has yielded,” Thranduil's voice becomes even lower, his timbre taking hold on your heart while rattling your bones. One boot shuffles closer, tapping the outside of your shoe gently and teasingly, and you are sure that if you look down you would faint at the sight of the leather boots reaching as high as your hips.

He raises his other hand as well, lets it descend slowly on the other side of your hips and without your hand under it, his touch burns through the fabric. You wishfully hope they will stay there forever, holding you to him and moulding your forms together perfectly.

“Do you know how you can best a vampire?” the question shouldn't cloud your mind over as much as it does, but how could you continue thinking clearly when Thranduil decides to graze the tips of the damn fangs over your neck?

Not at all, as proven by the lack of an answer.

Thranduil continues, either unbothered by the silence on your part or spurred on to unravel you even further.  “There is sunlight, an unfair opponent if one considers that you emit light even brighter. And though I know the consequences, I would gladly burn to ashes for one second in the golden rays of your smile.”

A gasp echoes through the hall, wavering with emotions, and your hand flies to your mouth to bite down on a finger, stifling any sound. 

“Most theories revolve around a stake through the heart. I doubt that would do any good since I lost mine when you came to this town and served me that awful cup of tea.”

You want to laugh but the true meaning of what he is telling you hits you hard enough to press all the air out of you in a shaky exhalation. 

“Then there is holy water,” Thranduil's lips ghost over the juncture of your neck once again, not once really touching skin. The anticipation of what is about to be said, about what he is about to do, tears at your resolve to stand still, to wait and let it happen. There is no one rushing you, no one trapping you in conversation or leading you into awkward fumbling around with words while the others are staring. 

This is exactly what you yearned for. 

There is a cold blow of air as Thranduil takes a breath and then his teeth scrape the skin, digging slightly into the flesh (not to break it, he would never hurt you) and-

his lips touch you, finally. They press down onto the spot where the fangs have been, gently and not moving at all. Just the soft weight of them. 

“I would drown myself in it if I could taste your lips.”

Oh..

Your eyelashes flutter down, brushing the heated skin of the apple of your cheek. A soft: “I wish for nothing else than a kiss” is said into the room, raising the electricity sizzling and crackling.

Before you can even blink, Thranduil's hand caresses your cheek, tilting your head to the side. The difference in your heights grants him the perfect angle to lean in, capturing your lips in an ardent kiss, despite the awkward positions of your bodies, twisted into each other. Any illusions of gentleness from the previous kiss on your shoulder fade, as Thranduil's lips now meet yours with an intense, passionate fervor.

You might have expected that your first kiss would leave you breathless, but the desire and hunger within him not only steals the air from your lungs but also clears your mind, immersing you in a captivating void. He doesn't break away, his lips maintaining their press against yours, and with the hand curling over yours on your waist, Thranduil tugs at you to turn you. The sensation is head-spinning, and if you weren't already descending into the depths of Thranduil, you'd surely have stumbled.

With Thranduil no longer towering over you and no need for you to twist to meet him, he confidently takes a step forward. It's like a well-practised dance, where he leads with precision. Uncertain of where he's guiding you, you surrender to his direction. A step back, a pause as your hands intertwine behind his neck, though it tugs at your arms, and then the next step. Another kiss follows, fervent and insatiable, a hunger that defies comparison.

In the distance, a cheer breaks through the pounding of your heart and the rush in your ears. Realizing it's the children, you manage to disentangle yourself from Thranduil. Even though you long to return to his lips, he, too, wears an apologetic look in his cerulean eyes.

“We should–”

“The children–”

Both of you speak simultaneously, still in such harmony that your words tumble over each other. You gaze at each other, and a burst of laughter escapes your lips, hearty, uncontainable laughter that you attempt to muffle with a hand, though Thranduil still holds you close.

“We should head outside,” he murmurs, a touch of nostalgia in his voice, longing in his gaze, which traces a path from your well-kissed mouth to your eyes.

“That would probably be the wisest choice,” you agree, but your body seems to resist the logic, leaning in closer to him. “Strange, I appear to be unable to detach myself from you,” you jest. Your arms wrap around his waist, seeking the comfort of his embrace.

“I will blame it on you, you captivating witch.”

[harvestmoss]

🌹 Love & Sex Magic Basics

Some good knowledge to have in the back of the mind when performing love and sex magic, alone or with others, yourself or for others. Sex and love magic often work together.

As always, I do not want minors on these posts, this is an 18+ only post.

Blog post include...

TIME - The best times to cast love and sex magic.

SPACE - The best places to performance.

TOOLS - Great talismans and objects to have near you when performing.

COLOURS - Best colours to use.

NUMBERS - Numbers use and to invoke.

WATERS - Spell waters to use for enhancements.

OILS - Spell oils best suited for love and sex magic.

BOTANICALS & APHRODISIACS - Flowers, herbs, foods, etc. These are the botanicals to use for love and sex magic, especially the aphrodisiac ones.

NOTES - Extra good knowledge to know when performing love and sex spells.

TIME

🌑 New Moon: The new moon is associated with our shadow self. Due to history and religion, we often associate sex and desires with our shadow self, something kind of unacceptable. It's such a primal human feeling, lust. So sex magic benefits from the New Moon greatly.

🌒 Waxing: The moon is getting bigger and brighter. Creating an ideal phase for magic around growth. Say you're in a relationship already, you'd want it to grow better and stronger, this is an ideal time to add extra passion into your sex life too.

🌕 Full Moon: Everything is full and intense on the Full Moon. Generally, all spells are enhanced during Full Moon, so you may cast sex magic here to enhance them. See what works best for you whenever it is the Full Moon or New Moon.

♀️ Friday: These are the best days for love and sex magic. This day is in honour of Venus. But you may also know it as the day of Aphrodite, Freya, and Oshun. Generally, love spirits are most powerful during Fridays.

🕒 The Clock: Typically, daylight brings abundance, growth, and positive influences. Night brings out the shadow self, intuition and emotional self. You could prepare spells in the daylight and performe them during night. See what works best for you. I wouldn't worry too much about the exact clock.

SPACE

🛏️ The Bedroom: The bedroom is home to the bed, a place we spend roughly ⅓ of our lives in. I believe it oozes with great magical threshold and potential. It's the home to our subconscious mind and desires. A bed is also where we typically perform pleasurable acts. Performaning sex magic in the bedroom is more potent than that of the living room.

🛁 The Bathroom: Not the place we typically have acts of pleasure, but it is a place we're often bare and naked in. we take baths, or get ready and make sure we looks alright, make sure we smell good, some do their makeup here, so on and so forth. I often perform glamour magic in the bathroom, and if you do glamour magic in conjunction with sex magic, your sex magic has a greater chance of success. Glamour magic is about attraction, and sex magic is specifically attracting pleasure. Think of them as collaborative partners occasionally.

TOOLS

🌿 Priapic Wand: A wand with a phallic object attached to the end, usual that of an acorn or pinecone. Mainly used to encourage the growth of Spring and is a symbol of Imbolc and Beltane. You may attache ribbons and bells to it as well.

🌿 Mermaid Wand: Mermaids or sirens are said to have lured sailors into the sea with their beauty and sexual nature. A mermaid wand is simply a piece of driftwood.

🌿 Copper Wand: Copper holds romance and feminine energy, so copper wands are often used in love spells, tope it with a rose quartz to enhance the powers.

🦢 Swan/Rooster Feathers: Swans are often a romantic symbol of grace and beauty, we often see swans in artworks being their iconic heart symbol together, they're also a bird that mates for life. Roosters on the other hand help ward off evil and are a symbol of male energy. I see rooster feathers often used in love magic, perhaps because the rooster is such a lady's man?

🔧 Iron: Representing primal male power. Iron helps invoke sexual desire and remedy lack of libido. Iron is also hard, stiff, and endures a lot. So we're hoping that it's magical properties will tranfer through to the spells. Soaking iron in water and using that water to bath your man, specifically the part that's actually useful about us, will enhance us to perform better.

🕯️ Candles: Candles are already used in every spell there is, I'm mainly placing it here since I've found that when you involve another person and light their name on fire it invoke passion and sexual drive.

💕 Adult Toys: I suggest having literal symbols of sex near you or being used when performing sex magic. Even greater if you have one specifically for the use of these rituals. Similarly, having pornography to stimulate you is favoured, or a partner.

🐎 Horseshoes or Horse Symbols: Horseshoes are often associated with luck and protection. But can also be a powerful love talisman. Horse shoes incorporate iron (as discussed above), the shape of a horse shoe is reminiscens a cresent moon, often associated with female energy, and it may also be associated with the symbol of double horns which is a symbol of the female genitalia (Statues showing off the vulva frightened off ghosts because the vulva is a symbol of life and ghosts are dead). The symbol of a horse adds additonal meaning, especially that of a stallion, being that of powerful virile animals. If you were to hammer a nail through a horseshoe, well, isn't that obvious why?

COLOURS

🍎 Red: A primary colour, red is associated with life and passion in many cultures. Red is connected to the body through health, sex, lust, love, romance, passion, confidence.

🍊 Orange: Symbolising connections in our life. It has associations with power, vitality, energy, growth, success, and ambitions. Great colour to use when you're already in a relationship.

💗 Pink: Often a feminine colour, therefore, it represents those quirks and stereotypes. Unconditional love, playfulness, love, gentleness, beauty, feelings. It's also the lesser colour of red, so if you'd want more intimate sex rather than rough, I recommended pink.

NUMBERS

2️⃣ Two (2): For obvious reasons, it is the number of unity, of harmony.

5️⃣ Five (5): I have heard to invoke the power of Oshun (Orisha of Love), you should use the number five.

6️⃣ Six (6): To invoke the power of Aphrodite (Lady of Love), use the number six.

8️⃣ Eight (8): To invoke the power of Inanna-Ishtar (Queen of Heaven), use the number eight. Eight is also the number associated with eternity and infinity if you lay it down, so use it to keep a relationship and sex life intact.

🔢 Numerology: Generally, lesser numbers are beginnings and bigger numbers are endings. So use lesser numbers to start a passionate life and bigger numbers to have greater orgasms, etc. See what works best for you.

WATERS

🕊️ Angel's Water: This water began as a complexation remedy in the sixtheenth-century before slowly becoming a love potion. It's name is a reference to the Angels that seduced the daughters of man in the Book of Genesis. It's also known as Aphrodite Water with it's main ingredient being Myrtle, which is said is what Aphrodite was covered in when she emerged from the ocean.

💞 Florida Water: Originally marketed as a cologne. Florida Water has attractive qualities due to it's scent with rosemary and citrus aspects. IT draws in luck, fantastic energies, and happiness.

🌹 Rose Water: Roses are often associated with love and romance, especially the red variant. Rose Water, or any flower water for that matter, are often used in love spells and beauty spells.

🍷 May Wine: Ritual potion for Midsummer’s Eve and Walpurgis Night. Some of my potions require mixing ingredients into a wine, and I choose May Wine, if I don't have that, red wine is fine.

OILS

💖 Love Oil: Used for love and sex spells, as well as being used for attraction.

💘 Come To Me Lover Oil: Consider this a deluxe version of Love Oil. Perfect for sex magic and attraction of people, used mainly for specific purposes, such as drawing in a specific kind of sex life or person.

🐈 Black Cat Oil: Break bad spells and hexes, attract positive attention, especially that of the opposite gender. Depending on what oil base you choose, jojoba or castor oil for protection and almond oil for love spells.

🌿 Cleopatra Oil: Captures the true essence of legendary Egyptian queen, Cleopatra. Used for glamor spells, love and sex magic.

BOTANICALS & APHRODISIACS

💐 Botanicals: Basil, carrots, catnip, chamomile, cardamom, coriander, cubeb, gardenia, grains of paradise, hibiscus, hyacinth, iris, jasmine, lady’s mantle, lavender, lovage, mint, onion, orchid, poppy, rose, rosemary, saint john’s wort, southernwood, strawberries, thyme, tormentil, vervain.

Botanicals associated with romance and sex and/or can enhance your love and sex spells.

🍾 Aphrodisiacs: Caviar, champagne, chocolate, coriander, apricots, peaches, cherries, grapes, figs, pomegranates, garlic, hibiscus tea, honey, hot peppers, mint, onions, radishes, saffron, shellfish, cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, sushi, vanilla, tomato.

Ingredients in which have shown to have aphrodisiac effects, some more than others.

☁️ Myrrh and Frankincense: They may not be obvious, with their religious background and association. However, they were burned in ancient Egypt, and myrrh was associated with Isis, the goddess of fertility, and frankincense with that of Rah. The lunar and sun goddess and god. Burn together with a partner or burn myrrh if you're more fem leaning and frankincense if you're mask leaning. Burn myrrh if you're attracting a woman and burn frankincense if you're attracting a man. What if you're nonbinary or the partner is? Burn both.

NOTES

Some extra good things to note before, during, and after performing love and sex spells.

Bathing your hands in Rose Water to enhance spells before performing - You may also use thyme.

Performing naked for sex magic increases the chances of success. Alternatively, clothing that makes you feel sexy.

Wearing a red ribbon around your waist for sexual seduction enhancement. You may use red string and incorporate knot magic, or a red gather belt, or regular belt. Something red around your waist, essentially.

In sex magic, you'll want to stir counter-clockwise. This is to invoke passion and vigour in your sex life. While clockwise is the opposite and lessens the libido. You may also think of it as counter-clockwise for deviance and clockwise for "vanilla".

Stir near your thighs and genitals to enhance success and better sex.

Stir near your heart for romantic love.

The hair off of someone's head is often used in love spells to draw them near you and make them love you. However, if you acquire their pubic hair, more sexual and aroused feelings will be invoked.

Use your sexual bodily fluids to charge and enchant sigils and other objects.

Use menstrual blood to enhance love spells. Are you someone who do not bleed like me? Worry not! Prick your ring finger, preferably that of the left (unless you're married, then that of the right) and the blood will have a similar effect to that of menstrual blood.

Are your love spells not working on your lover? Acquire a piece of their hair and let gentle water drip on ti it continually and the resistance should wear off. Sometimes your lover may even be cursed with lack of sexual performances, so bathing in iron would help or eating any of the aphrodisiac ingredients would help too.

It helps to be in the mindset when performing love and sex spells, so being aroused and excited for sex spells helps them perform better. Being in a romantic mood helps for love spells, so feed yourself well with cherries, peaches, and chocolate. As well as having your favourite adult toys out when doing sex magic or also warming yourself up and then performing sex magic.

That should be it, go out and have lots of good sex and love!

Excuse grammar mistake and spelling errors, English is not my first language.

[diana-bluewolf]

It’s the fanfic I wrote about in the previous post

—------------------------------

Word count: ~4500

Warnings: passive suicidal ideation (don’t ask me how I ended up here with a funny comic as a base); m/m; not proofread.

English is not my first language - sorry for the mistakes!  

Additional tags: Ominis/M!MC, hurt-comfort, demisexual MC, SFW

Summary: Chris had read that “I’d die for you” thing in some books. It didn’t make any sense to him because it didn’t sound like a big deal. He’d die for himself. But when he thought about Ominis’s words echoing around the Undercroft, he realised that for the moon-eyed boy he was ready to make a much more labour-consuming sacrifice. 

He’d live for him.

—------------------------------

When I feel so alone out here And freedom means I am lost When every day seems a slow-motion suicide You reignite my lust for life Lust for Life Song by Poets of the Fall

"Guess who's back!" 

Sebastian raised his head from the book he was reading on his bed to find Chris at the doorway to their dorm. 

"Oh, you were away?" teased Sebastian, grinning and arching his eyebrow. Ominis, who was resting on a small couch next to the fireplace, rolled his eyes and tilted his head towards Chris, smiling.

It was Friday evening. The lessons had recently ended, and the only thing keeping the students indoors was the spring rain outside. Besides, the N.E.W.T.s were approaching, so there was no time to relax.

“Aww, it’s so nice to be missed,” said Chris theatrically as he threw his shabby case on the floor next to his bed and shot Sebastian a smirk. The green-eyed boy was soaking wet after walking in the rain and took out his wand to dry himself, but instead came over to Sebastian and shook his head like a dog, spraying his friend with water.

Sebastian laughed and tried to kick Chris away, but he dodged, smirking.

“Well, I have to admit,” Sebastian said, watching Chris casting the drying spell on himself, ”it was a bit problematic to maintain the same level of chaos in the castle for the last two weeks. But I did my be –”

“Two weeks and four days,” objected Ominis hastily.  

Chris blinked in surprise and then beamed at the blond, who now was pursing his lips as if he said something wrong. Apart from that, Ominis looked just as collected and neat as usual, but something was off. Apparently, Chris got lost in his thoughts while watching Ominis because he didn't hear Sebastian asking him a question.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Chris returned to reality, realising that Sebastian was staring at him with a strange expression.

Sebastian suddenly clicked his tongue and exclaimed, "Blimey, look at the time! I've got to dash." He shut his book and jumped off the bed, heading towards the door.

"Wha – Why?" Chris furrowed, puzzled by his friend's sudden haste. 

"No time to explain – an urgent matter!" exclaimed Sebastian. As he ran past Chris, he tripped over and crashed into the other boy, shoving him towards the couch where Ominis was sitting. "My bad, guys! See you later!" And with that, he disappeared in the doorway.

Chris lost balance and landed atop shocked Ominis. He only managed to fling out his hand and prop it against the wall behind the couch to prevent himself from smashing into the blind boy at full speed. 

Ominis twitched and breathed out madly, “What the hell are you –“ trying to feel the intruder with his hands to understand what had happened. 

“It’s my knee,” commented Chris quietly when Ominis’s hand grasped the mentioned part of his body. 

“Sorry, I have no idea what gave Sebastian the impression I needed some flying practice,” uttered Chris. He attempted to stand up but froze halfway, looking at Ominis under him, their faces barely an inch apart.

Ominis, who could feel Chris’s breath on his lips, forced himself to speak through clenched teeth, "Oh, I will organise some flying practice for him later."

From the Astronomy tower.

An urgent matter. Of course, Sebastian did it on purpose. He was the only one who knew. 

_________

It had happened the night before.

A thud had pulled Sebastian out of his dream, and he had found Ominis on the floor on all fours, tangled in his blanket and groping around with trembling hands for his wand.

“Hey,” Sebastian kneeled beside his best friend, “I’m here, buddy. What has happened?” He found Ominis’s wand on the floor and pressed it into the blind boy’s palm. “Looking for this?” 

Ominis grasped the wand and sat on the floor, leaning heavily on his bed. 

“What has happened?” repeated the question Sebastian. “Was it a nightmare?”

Ominis, throwing his head backwards, only nodded slightly, his lips pursed.

“I thought they were gone,” said Sebastian, sitting on the floor next to Omins and realising it had been a long time since something like this had happened. 

“I thought so, too,” Ominis finally uttered, “but…it’s just…I guess it’s a…”

Sebastian waited for his usually composed and eloquent friend to find the right words in the silence of their dorm. 

“Him,” Ominis finally managed to say as if his throat was squeezed. 

_________

If someone at the start of his fifth year had told Ominis how much his opinion about Chris Mongrel would change, he would have offered them to visit St Mungo, just in case, to check their mental state. The new student had been just a class clown with a finger in every pie, not to mention that he had seemed to keep pulling Sebastian into dangerous activities.  

The Neophyte. It was what Ominis used to call that new show-off because the Heir of Slytherin was irritated by the new boy’s real name, pronounced by Sebatian too often. The new fifth year was manipulative, could lie with the most sincere expression and was the last person Ominis could think good of.

Nevertheless, of all people, it was Chris who eventually turned into the only source of warmth that could at least slightly dispel the cold of Dark Magic that Ominis found himself surrounded by - the cold of Sebastian’s despair. It was Chris who made great efforts to save Ominis’s friendship with Sebastian despite all the pressure he had on his shoulders due to the goblin rebellion. It was Chris who was there for him when Ominis needed it most, and if not for him, Ominis probably would have done another thing he would regret forever - turning Sebastian in. 

But then…Then Professor Fig died.

Chris became withdrawn and indifferent to anything around him, barely communicating with anyone. Even when he did, he was rude and obnoxious. By the start of their sixth year, Chris pushed away everyone. They didn’t talk for months. The only thing he paid attention to was lessons and schoolwork. Chris became an even more brilliant student than before. The teachers loved him. The students kept away. 

Some tried to bully him, but it looked like Chris just waited for this. His revenge was cruel enough to get him expelled. But the Hero of Hogwarts could make an innocent face when needed, and since he was the teachers’ favourite, he got away with everything.

Meanwhile, Ominis struggled with nightmares more than usual after the events of the fifth year. The scream of the muggle that he tortures with Crucio… this time followed by Avada Kedavra spell cast by him. Anne cries after burying Solomon, but this time, she blames Ominis for helping Sebastian find the relic. Sebastian killed his uncle, but this time, Ominis meets his best friend in Azkaban after turning him in. Chris disappears from the hospital wing in the turmoil after the fight for Hogwarts, but this time is found dead later. 

Ominis often couldn't fall asleep, and since being trapped with his thoughts in the night silence of their dorm was unbearable, he came to the common room after lights out. Chris seemed to deal with the same, so they often encountered each other there.  

The brunet usually would leave to sneak out of the castle without saying a word. As Ominis found out later, at best, Chris would sleep, curling up beside his "little" pet, Misha the Wolf, in the Forbidden Forest, because it was giving him the illusion of not being alone. At worst, he would indulge in that habit. The one that made Ominis feel cold inside. The habit of chasing for the opportunity to die. 

No, Chris didn't actually try to kill himself on purpose. But he never endeavoured to keep his life safe either. The boy simply didn't care. Whenever there was an opportunity to risk his life – Merlin knew how Chris managed to find them, whether it be killing a poorly trained troll or wandering into a cave full of Acromantulas just to find a thing of sentimental value for one of the nearby villagers – he would go for it eagerly. 

It lasted until the middle of their sixth year, when one night, Ominis found Chris bleeding in the Undercroft. The brunet didn’t want to go to the hospital; he had no Wiggenweld potions left and was generally too weak to care for himself. Ominis knew some basic healing spells – he had to learn them because of his idiot of a friend (for both of them, actually). 

Ominic treated the other boy’s wounds, clenching his teeth in silence. When he finished and was about to leave without saying a word, he heard that indifferent voice with a hint of mockery. The first words Chris had told him in the last half year.

"Thank you, Dr Gaunt. I'm looking forward to the next appointment."

Here, the author doubts whether it would be offensive to present Ominis’s answer as it was to the noble ears of the reader. So here is the censored version:

"Your life belongs to you, and I can't make you treat your belongings as I want, so I just ask you – No, I beg you – Keep. It. Safe. You lost someone you hold dear. I understand that. But you know what? You are not the only one here who came through this. And now you're endangering the life of another person I care about - and you don't even give me a chance to help him! You did so much to save my friendship with Sebastian. Why don't you even try to save ours?!" 

As mentioned above, it didn't sound like that exactly. It was pronounced in a mad voice and with a couple or two eloquent curses that were odd to hear from Ominis. Chris also didn't yet know that it was possible to beg someone for something by grabbing that someone by the collar and slamming them into a wall. 

Ominis had no idea how or why, but it seemed to have an effect. The next night, when they came across in the common room, Chris suddenly said “Hi” before leaving. Despite them being alone, Ominis wasn’t even sure it was addressed to him. The other night, they exchanged a couple of awkward words. The next night, they had a little meaningless conversation about a book Ominis was reading to distract himself. The night after, Chris suddenly offered to read aloud to Ominis. 

The next time, Chris suddenly stopped reading and put away the book to apologise for being a jerk all that time. That brought a string of heated discussions when slipping to blaming or resentment alternated with climbing the steep mountain of understanding each other.

Not every night was smooth. Too much had happened. Too much they both closed their hearts. But none of them stopped coming to the common room after lights out. 

Eventually, they rebuilt the wall they set up between each other into a cosy little house, in which both of them felt comfortable and knew where to put their shoes so that they wouldn't irritate the other one or which plaid to choose to cover the housemate when he was cold. It was the house they didn't want to leave, the house they could call home. In fact, it was the only place both of them could call home.

Chris became softer with others, too, and even though he still remained true to himself with most of them, being detached and manipulative, there was another side of him that only Ominis knew. The Chris, who was selfless, caring and reliable. Some might say he was too caring, as annoyingly overprotective as one can be. 

But for Ominis, it was an oasis he could immerse himself in and dissolve his unsettling thoughts. Floating in the void of his blindness and being raised in a family where the threat could come from any direction, Ominis perceived the world as precarious, to say the least. The price for this was his nightmares. 

Ominis used to hate nights, but now he couldn’t wait for when he and Chris would meet alone, following their unspoken tradition. He loved their conversations or just the silence they shared when they were too tired to talk, and he especially found pleasure in hearing the other’s voice, which was reading to him, quite deep and low for the owner’s age – the voice that soothed Ominis and filled him with warmth, the voice that made him feel safe.

First, Ominis began to fall asleep easier. Then, his nightmares started to fade until they dissolved almost completely. And then, in their seventh year, he found himself having new dreams. These were… good. Too good, but also causing concerns – dreams that were inappropriate towards a friend. 

Ominis wasn’t ashamed of them and cherished this new feeling that had bloomed in the soil, soaked with guilt, grief and fear. However, the boy was not going to reveal his secret and risk what he obtained, especially since Chris had never shown interest in a romantic relationship with anyone. 

Little did Ominis know how Chris’s absence would impact him. The longer the other was away, the more often Ominis woke up terrified because the old nightmares were returning. Last night seemed to be the last straw, so when Sebastian asked him what was happening to him, Ominis couldn’t stand it anymore. He needed to get all the emotions boiling in him off his chest. All the time, he wanted to tell Chris the truth, but was afraid. The way he missed the voice he loved so badly. 

He had told Sebastian the truth. 

He had fallen in love with their friend. 

The friend whose presence had made his nightmares disappear.   

_________

Ominis had made Sebastian swear he wouldn't tell Chris anything. But Sebastian wouldn't be Sebastian if he hadn't found a loophole in his promise. Why would he wait for his friends to take the first step towards each other if he could just throw one into another? It was a much more efficient way to shorten distances than steps, wasn't it?

If Ominis' thoughts weren't occupied by his current predicament and the panic growing in him because of Chris's proximity, he would be mad at Sebastian. Or should he thank him? How else could Ominis get a chance to become closer to the one who, although attentive in general, was absolutely oblivious when it came to romantic feelings? And thinking about it – really, how? Like this, by accident? That wasn't right.  

But Chris was so close. His warmth. His weight, pressing Ominis into the couch. His smell – the mixture of ink, pine and …was it Wiggenweld potion? 

Just like before. 

Did Chris need it again recently? Ominis hoped it had stayed in the past. 

Perhaps this concerning thought was the only thing keeping him from pulling Chris closer and reducing the little distance between them to nothing. In fact, Ominis knew that he had to push Chris away but hoped that Chris would be the one to get off the couch (and, well, him) first. For some reason, the brunet didn't hurry to do it.

Meanwhile, Chris used the opportunity to look at Ominis closer. The blond's face was crimson now, but it wasn't that that bothered Chris – just a normal human reaction to a violation of personal space. Chris had difficulties understanding what personal space is. Of course, it's better to keep away from people as much as possible – it's simply easier this way. But if you already interact with them – what's wrong if you stand too close to someone? 

But it mattered to others, and Ominis, Chris did know, valued his personal space even more than people usually did. Chris would have stepped away immediately if not for a detail that caught his attention – the dark circles under Ominis’s eyes. 

Just like before. 

When Chris had left half a month ago, he had thought Omnis would finally have an opportunity to rest from him. Deep down, he was always afraid – what if Ominis was spending so much time with him out of sheer politeness or, worse, pity? 

In his fifth year, Chris had been sure that if people were “kind” to him, it was just because they needed something from him. Why had Sebastian been so friendly with him when he had arrived at Hogwarts? Obviously, because of ancient magic, which could potentially be a key to healing Anne. All this nonsense about “friendship” was just a convention, a game played as long as it was beneficial, a fairytale to fantasise about. 

But then there was Ominis, who didn’t conform to the idea that friendship was a mere cooperation. For some reason, he cared for Sebastian no matter what, despite all the disadvantages. And then Chris began to doubt. What if friendship really existed as it was described in books? At least in rare cases? Inside, he always wanted to believe in it, but his rational side made fun of his naivety. But what if he did find a proof? 

It became important for Chris to save the friendship between the two Slytherins at all costs because if it fell, so would all his childish hopes that he, too, could be someone’s friend one day. 

Who was he to Ominis? Chris didn't lie to himself – of course, he was just a convenient tool to handle Sebastian. Anyway, he idolised Ominis like a magizoologist would worship a unique fantastic beast they had just discovered. 

And then Fig died. 

Sitting there, somewhere under Hogwarts, alone, absolutely alone as usual, next to the body of the only person closest to the notion of family Chris had ever had, the boy got mad at himself. 

Why is he so obsessed with others? Why does he still hope so desperately to obtain the illusion of family? To find a magical creature named ‘friend’ from fairytales? Why does he keep hurting himself with shards of shattered hope when he can just be alone and not care about anyone?

Sink or swim. It was always his motto in the orphanage. He was alone, and he always would be. Why did he suddenly start to hope for something else in Hogwarts? Stupid, he was so stupid. It was time to accept it and grow up. 

He had never valued his life. But after Fig had died, Chris started to hate that he was alive and often sneaked out of the castle in the hope that a particular goblin, troll or poacher would become the last.

Too bad he was good at surviving. 

Until that time in the Undercroft. Chris was finally so close to ending this meaningless turmoil. And then Ominis intervened. Of course, The Saint and Noble one had to heal The Loser to be even more perfect. 

But when Ominis was pressing him against the wall and kept yelling at him, Chris realised that the blond wasn't mad because of Chris's disdainful and arrogant attitude. The words that Ominis was spitting into his face weren't the words Chris had expected to hear. 

Ominis was desperate. For some reason, he was really afraid for Chris and valued his life more than Chris himself ever did – not for something, but in spite of everything, as if Chris were someone like Sebastian to him.

After Ominis had left, his words echoed in Chris's ears for a long time as he slid down the wall onto the dirty floor of the Undercroft. The person Ominis cared about? Their friendship? Could it be that Chris had been Ominis's friend all that time? The thought was totally new and shocking for him.

It was hard to believe in it. 

Impossible. 

But doesn’t rage often work like Veritaserum? And Ominis had been mad. He had been so mad that Chris feared that if he had said a word, Ominis would have killed him on the spot and become even madder.

When Hope, the dying creature with broken wings inside of Chris, tried to draw attention to itself, the boy became irritated that he wanted to listen to it again instead of kicking it away. But this new theory was worth investigating. What was he losing? 

Starting to speak with Ominis again was one of the hardest things he had ever done (and he had defeated Ranrok). What if he understood it all wrong and would just impose himself on the blind boy? What if their last interaction had at last destroyed whatever they had had? What if Ominis would just push him away, laughing? But the experiment should be continued. 

The results exceeded Chris’s wildest expectations. Ominis not only accepted him as if nothing had happened and gave him enough time to gather himself together to apologise. For some miraculous reason, Chris felt that Ominis needed his mere presence – not something from him – even when they just sat together next to the fireplace, listening to the quiet song of fire. 

Following the sink-or-swim motto, Chris wasn't used to caring for someone. But now he was ready to give anything at all, only to see Ominis smiling, to make him happy. And every time Chris succeeded, he couldn't be happier himself. He almost forgot that itching desire to find an excuse to risk his life. 

But when he was away, the old doubts began to haunt him. Why would someone so perfect as Ominis want to be around someone like Chris, whose life was just a mess? The guy without a past, broken present, and a future, whose arrival he was endangering. 

The more time he spent away from Ominis, the louder the voice in his head pushed him to do something stupid until it finally got the better of him. 

The incident with ashwinders only cost him one Wiggenweld potion. 

But it was enough to bring back memories of Ominis beating some sense into him in the Undercroft.

No matter what, Ominis wanted him safe. 

Chris had read that “I’d die for you” thing in some books. It didn’t make any sense to him because it didn’t sound like a big deal. He’d die for himself. But when he thought about Ominis’s words echoing around the Undercroft, he realised that for the moon-eyed boy he was ready to make a much more labour-consuming sacrifice. 

He’d live for him.

So Chris had made sure the last incident had been really the last one. 

Anyway, he had missed Ominis deeply, so seeing him today was a relief. But Merlin - the blond looked so tired. 

“You didn’t sleep well recently”, Chris said quietly, slowly running his right thumb under Ominis’s left eye.

That voice, the voice Ominis loved and missed so much, sounded so gentle, so concerned, and so…close. The touch felt like an electric jolt. Ominis’s head was spinning, the heart pounding in his ears and racing so fast, forcing his breathing to quicken, but it was a trap because he inhaled more of Chris’s smell now, and that was the end of Ominis’s composure. 

He reached out his hand and lowered it on Chris’s back of the head. Someone stop him! He ran his fingers through the short strands. That wasn't right! Clinging to the last echoes of reason, Ominis whispered, pulling Chris closer, “Aren’t you going to stand up? Someone might see us and jump to conclus –” 

The door flung open, revealing one of their housemates, a boy with jet-black hair and chocolate eyes, holding a book.

“Hey Ominis, you – ” he broke off. The short pause was followed by a flow of frantic “Sorry!” and the sound of rapidly fading footsteps.

Chris jumped off the couch and glanced at the retreating intruder. That was an impressive running speed, he had to admit. Perhaps they scared the boy even more than he did them. “Like this?” he asked, amused.

“Precisely like this,” Ominis sounded bitter. The warmth, the smell, the weight – everything disappeared, leaving him with his heart beating wildly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers tightly. 

Chris tilted his head, watching the blond. Was Ominis so upset because that boy misinterpreted what he saw? The brunet wouldn’t care about it, but Ominis looked frustrated, which was something to care about. Chris had to fix it. 

”I…I will go and try to find him. Explain that it was a mistake,” he said, trying not to imagine what it would look like. 

Hi buddy! It wasn’t what you think it was. I fell on him. What? No, I normally don’t fall on people like this, so yeah, you’re safe. Chris shook his head. Maybe he would need to come up with a lie that would sound more plausible than the truth. But it was the problem of the future Chris.

“Right,” Ominis simply brought out. Chris was about to leave but suddenly stopped.

“Imissdyu,” he blurted, turning to the couch but averting his minty eyes from the boy on it, even though Ominis couldn't see him.

”I beg your pardon?” Ominis was baffled. If he didn’t know any better, he just heard, “I missed you.” But, of course, he knew better. Phineas Black would sooner smile at students heartily than Chris Mongrel would speak about feelings. 

"I…" It was Chris's turn to grow red even more intensively than Ominis a couple of minutes before. He knew the words were correct – he had read in books about people saying them to each other in similar circumstances, but Chris couldn't bring himself to repeat them. 

"Please, don't make me say it again. You heard it right."

After a short pause, he added, suddenly interested in the stone pattern on the floor, "Can I read to you tonight? I mean, as usual." Then, he would ask why Ominis didn't sleep well.

"I hoped you'd ask this," the blind boy finally smiled. Then, he would ask what made Chris drink the Wiggenweld potion.

“See you later then,” beamed Chris, relieved. He finally looked at the moon-eyed boy and was about to head out when Ominis’s voice stopped him.

“Chris?”

“Mhm?” 

“I missed you, too.” Only Ominis could smile like that – like the warm light of the lamppost sparkling on the snow. “Hear you later.”

“I…khm…yeah…Gotta go.” Chris made a few steps backwards toward the way out, still watching Omins, then turned around and crashed into a doorpost. “They… have to make the doors wider,” he said, leaving.

Ominis chuckled softly, listening to Chris’s fading footsteps. Then, a wave of panic washed over him again as he realised that mere minutes ago he could have ruined everything, succumbing to temptation. He rubbed his face with his palms, exhaling audibly. What was he thinking about? 

But now, everything was right. And tonight he will sleep better. Thank Merlin, the point of no return had not been reached. Or should he say thanks to the student that had broken into their dorm? 

Perhaps that guy will have another visitor today. 

------------------

The song from the epigraph. I wrote Chris's part while listening to it.

[detective-watson]

Weekly Astrology Nov. 10 - Nov. 16

Sunday, November 10, 2024

Moon enters Pisces ☽ -> ♓︎

Positive energy: Sympathy/intuition

Negative energy: Over-imagination/escapism

A good time to do something spiritual!

---

Monday, November 11, 2024

Venus enters Capricorn ♀ -> ♑︎

LOVE: It may be more difficult to express affection directly, but it will be shown through how hard each partner works to provide for each other.

MONEY: Hard work can lead to growing finances or other kinds of material wealth.

---

Tuesday, November 12, 2024

Moon enters Aries ☽ -> ♈︎

Positive energy: Assertion/determination

Negative energy: Pushiness/self-centeredness

A good time to do something active!

---

Thursday, November 14, 2024

Moon enters Taurus ☽ -> ♉︎

Positive energy: Stability/comfort

Negative energy: Stubbornness/slowing down

A good time to do something material!

---

Friday, November 15, 2024

Saturn goes direct ♄

Full Moon in Taurus ♉︎

SPELLS: Banishing stubbornness or jealousy / Manifesting creativity, stability, wealth, sensuality

---

Saturday, November 16, 2024

Moon enters Gemini ☽ -> ♊︎

Positive energy: Communication/sociability

Negative energy: Lack of listening/restlessness

A good time to do something mental!

[kanencrow]

hey I would like to request probably fluff/comfort Gwen Stacy wherein the reader and her are close friends and that somehow reader found out gwen is spider woman and Gwen like freaks out abt it the rest can be up to you, you can remove parts of my request!

You're WHO? - Across The Spiderverse | One Shot

A/N: For sure! Happy reading!

SUMMARY: You were originally planning to have a calm night in. You didn’t expect to deal with a home invader, and you definitely didn’t expect for the culprit to be the one and only Spider-Woman.

WARNINGS: All characters are 18+. Fluff/Comfort, Swearing.

WORD COUNT: 2500+

It wasn’t often where you had the ability to stay home and relax. University was a pain, both mentally and emotionally, and quite honestly, even physically. There had been countless times where you were forced to stay up until five in the morning, just for the sake of getting yourself confidently ready for an upcoming test. Granted, your professors didn’t blatantly say that abstaining from sleep was mandatory in order to do well in your studies, but there were more times where it was implied that one needed to simply revolve their life around school if they wanted a chance at graduating with flying colors. 

But luckily, it was a Friday, and all of the at home work you typically were obligated to do wasn’t assigned for the weekend. You assumed that the teachers who taught the classes you attended understood that all of their students were slowly losing their minds, and so they decided – together – to let you rest, even if only for a few days. Still though, you planned on taking full advantage of the window of relaxation you received. Responsibilities could fall off the face of the earth for all you cared. Your main focus – now – was huddling up on the couch with a bowl of your favorite snack and looking as though you belonged there. 

And you did. For a good while. 

Until the sound of something crashing in the other room snapped you out of your comforting stupor. It sounded as though an entire shelving unit tipped over and spilled the contents of what it displayed onto the floor. Not only that, but it sounded like it was coming from the room that you and your roommate shared. Usually, you would have shrugged it off and assumed that it was just Gwen, doing whatever it was that she typically did alone, but the only issue was the fact that she wasn’t even home. You and her came into your shared apartment after school earlier in the day, but she didn’t stay for long. Something about her dad and needing to help him with whatever it was a police officer needed help with. 

You didn’t pay her any mind. You only waved her off and told her to be safe, before you resumed your mission in trying to veg out for the rest of the day. You assumed she would have been back by the evening, but then the sun faded away from the earth, and when the moon replaced it, you sent her text that questioned her whereabouts. And when she didn’t answer you, you scoffed and tossed your phone onto the coffee table in front of the couch you sat on, too lazy to worry. Only now did the thought of your phone come back to your mind, and so as you set down your bowl of half-eaten food, you tapped the screen of your device that sat right next to your dish. 

It lit up, and you were greeted with an array of text messages from Gwen. All of which were franticly sent and poorly spelled, like she had been running when she tapped her thumbs against the digital keyboard. It was amusing, and an often occurrence from the woman. Though, you still felt suspicions rise the longer you scrolled down to read over the other stuff she sent you. Random emojis that she had never used before had somehow been sent to you. And then when you eventually got to the bottom of the thread she had randomly created on your phone, your eyes slightly widened. 

There was a close up of a masked face you had the joy of meeting a few times. It looked like a selfie, but it also looked as though the person who took it was a mom who had no idea how to use the camera on their phone. It was blurry, the quality was pretty terrible, but you could still make out the covered face of Spider-Woman. The angular, sharp white eyes that stared down at the screen, voidless of any emotion because they weren’t even real irises. You couldn’t help but stand up to your feet and bring your phone with you, taking a closer look at it as your blanket fell from your body. 

Another crashing sound and a familiar expletive of ‘shit!’ came from the room that wasn’t too far from where you were. It wasn’t difficult to tell who had – poorly – snuck inside the house at… one in the morning. You let out a sigh and shoved your phone into the pocket of your pajamas, before you stepped away from the couch and walked towards wherever the sound had originally come from. You could only assume that Gwen was the culprit of all the noise that was being made, however the closer you got to the door that the sound came from, you felt a feeling of anxiety fill your stomach when the thought of some stranger actually being the one who was creating such a disturbance filled your mind. 

Even though you swore you heard Gwen’s voice just a few minutes ago, you were starting to second guess your own hearing. Still, your hesitation didn’t stop you from raising a hand up and knocking on the door. The sound was loud as your knuckles rapped against the wood, and just from the simple action, it caused another thump to reverberate from within the room. Yet another curse came from the culprit, and when you heard that familiar voice of a certain blonde again, you suddenly grew impatient, and opened up the door, not giving your friend the time to get herself collected. 

And honestly, you didn’t regret your decision when you pushed the door open to reveal Gwen, who just barely managed to kick a bundle of white, black, and pink fabric under her bed. Your eyebrows immediately furrowed in skepticism, while your friend put her arms behind her back and straightened up casually at the sight of you. Her blonde hair was messy, pieces of it sticking up, as though she had rubbed a balloon on her head, and the oversized band t-shirt she had put on was actually backwards, which allowed you to see the back graphic. Your lips parted slightly in confusion as your eyes lowered down to take in the rest of her form, and you let out a breathless chuckle of amusement when you saw her mismatched socks and the inside out cotton shorts she had shuffled into.

“Um…” You didn’t even know what to say, but the sound of your voice caused Gwen to stand up straighter and send you a very suspiciously innocent grin. It showed off the gap between her white teeth, and although you wanted to cut to the chase and interrogate her on where she had gone, you couldn’t help the flutter of endearment that filled your chest and quickly took the form of a smile on your lips. Although, as much as you wanted to dwell on the natural cuteness your best friend exuded, you focused on the main reason as to why you entered her room. “So… where have you been?” you asked her, before you crossed your arms over your chest and glanced down at your feet awkwardly. “Your texts today were a little… interesting.” 

“Oh, really?” Gwen let out a laugh at your statement, which caused you to lift your head and meet her blue eyes. She tapped her socked foot impatiently as she shrugged her shoulders to try and prove that she had no recollection of the weird texts she sent you throughout the day. “That’s weird. I uh… I must’ve, like… butt texted you or something.” 

“Oh yeah?” you questioned, though it was entirely rhetorical, considering your eyebrows raised up to show that you didn’t believe her lie at all whatsoever. “Did, uh… Spider-Woman take your phone or something and butt text me, too?” At your words, her casual demeanor crumbled, and you almost smirked to yourself when you saw the look of panic that flashed over her features, before it vanished, and a look of faux perplexion painted her expression instead. 

“I… what…?” Gwen gestured her hands up to try and play off her ignorance, but you only reached into your pocket to pull out your phone once more. As you turned it on and unlocked it, you could sense the way she quietly walked over to you to look down at the evidence you were about to show her. Of course, you didn’t need to say a single thing to try and prove your suspicions. Simply going to her contact and looking at the messages that were shared between the two of you, she immediately spotted that blurry picture of her in her suit. It was a terrible selfie, but it still didn’t make it too difficult to recognize who the culprit of the photo was. “Okay… um…” 

You cut her off before she could say some other boldface lie. Shutting off your phone, you dropped it back into your pocket, before you looked up at the blonde with a furrowed expression. “So, is there anything you want to tell me, Gwen?” You already had your suspicions that the woman was doing something on the down low – something that you couldn’t know about. But the last thing you thought was that she was the one and only Spider-Woman. Sure, it was a theory that circled around your mind every once in a while, but you always thought that the girl was way too clumsy to be New York's friendly neighborhood superhero. 

Maybe it was all a front. Maybe she wasn’t clumsy at all. 

“Okay, look–” Gwen stepped back from you and raised her hands up in surrender, which caused your own body to turn and face her own. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while that I’m – you know – but I never did because I knew that would have put you in danger, and I don’t want anything to happen to you, and so I just never did that because the number one thing in those secret superhero movies that people watch is to never ever tell the people you care about that you’re the superhero.” She was frantically rambling, but you still managed to catch everything that she told you. You slowly nodded your head in understanding, and just as she was about to open her mouth again, you raised your hand up, which caused her to pause. 

“I get it, Gwen,” you muttered, “don’t worry.” 

“You can’t tell anyone about this, Y/n,” Gwen quickly replied, as she stepped closer to you and clasped her hands down onto your shoulders. “If anyone else finds out that I’m… you know – her… then I’m screwed.” Her tone was pleading, and you could tell that she was clearly worried about your knowledge of who she was. You attempted to assure her that you weren’t going to out her, but she had spoken before you could say anything… again. “And – please delete that picture. People can’t know that you’re – that I’m… just delete the picture,” she rambled, which earned a slow nod from you, as you reached into the pocket of your PJ’s again, fishing for your phone. “You’re the only person that knows. I’d like to keep it that way, so please, please don’t say anything–” 

“Gwen, hey,” you called her name, which caused the blonde to immediately close her mouth and meet your eyes. “I’m not going to say anything to anyone, okay?” you reassured her, before you lifted up the screen of your phone and deleted the blurry selfie of her as Spider-Woman right in front of her. “Your secret is safe with me, alright? My lips are sealed.” 

“Okay.” Gwen breathed out a sigh of relief as she nodded her head, her hands falling away from your shoulders. “Thank you,” she said, which earned a simple shrug from you, before you put your phone back into your pocket, for the umpteenth time. “You’re not mad at me, right?” she suddenly asked, causing you to roll your eyes lightheartedly and let out a small laugh. 

“No, of course not, Gwen,” you replied. “I understand why you didn’t say anything. I just kinda wish you told me a little sooner.” 

Gwen brought a hand up to rub at the back of her neck and glanced down at the floor. “Yeah… I probably should have, but…” She shrugged her shoulders as she dropped her arm back to her side. “I didn’t want to risk it,” she admitted, her eyes lifting to meet yours again. “Being the face behind Spider-Woman’s mask is kind of something that I don’t want anyone to know, but…” 

“Now I know,” you finished sympathetically, which earned a small nod from your friend. You breathed in at that, understanding the worry that probably instilled her. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, knowing that you’re Spider-Woman makes me feel a little safer.” 

“Only a little?” Gwen questioned, which earned a scoff from you, as you turned around and started making your way out of her room. 

“Don’t push it, Spider-Woman.” 

You smiled to yourself when you heard Gwen let out a chuckle from behind you. 

BONUS: 

The light from the television was the only thing that illuminated the living room, as Gwen leaned into your side with your favorite blanket draped over her. She had stolen most of it, but the warmth of her body against your side was a valid replacement. You and her were both focused on the show the two of you religiously binged together, and although you were very intrigued by the plot of it, there was still a question that lingered in the back of your mind. Although your best friend had asked you not to see her any differently due to her being Spider-Woman, you couldn’t help the confusion that formed when you thought about how she became the superhero everybody knew and loved. 

As Gwen fidgeted with your hand that hung over her shoulders, you leaned your head back against the couch and spoke up, your voice distant, since the show before the two of you still slightly hypnotized you. “Hey Gwen.” Your friend hummed in response to your call of her name, and so you continued, mindlessly. “I’ve been wondering,” you started, before you swallowed and licked your lips thoughtlessly. “How did you become Spider-Woman?” Your question earned a loud sigh from her, which caused you to furrow your eyebrows and look down at her, which didn’t really do any justice, since you could only see part of her face as she continued to stare at the TV. “What? Is that a bad question to ask?” 

“No, just…” You felt her shrug against you and shuffle slightly, which caused you to raise your arm up and let her lay her upper body across your legs. “Out of all the questions you could have asked me, it’s that one?” You looked down at her and met her eyes. You couldn’t help but trace the finer details of her face for a moment, before she folded her hands together and rested them against the middle of her chest. “It’s a long story,” she told you softly. Her voice grabbed your attention again, and you showed that you were listening when you hummed. “Do you… want to hear it still?” 

You sent her a small smile and nodded. “Of course I do.” 

Gwen nodded her own head and pressed her lips together, before her fingers started drumming against the back of her own hands. “Okay, well…” She trailed off and let out a quiet breath. “It all started when I was bitten by a radioactive spider…”

(Insert Spider-Man theme music here)

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Let Me Love You (Beauty Spell/Chant For Yourself)

If you've been feeling like you cant love thyself & embrace your looks this is for you.

1x green candle (7 day)

2 red (small) candles

the green is to help you connect to yourself, the heart and your desires around beauty.

the red candles help you stay firm in your foundation for yourself. to build your confidence and commitment to yourself.

When beginning, light your candle and say 3 words:

I. Love. You.

It doesn't matter how you say it, just begin from here.

As you burn the candles, practice self love chants :

I am love, divine perfection. A gift from the Gods (you can say the universe) to where my soul is as pretty as the ocean, beautiful as the heavens, and as bright as the sun. My reflection is of that of the moon. I am as pretty as I could be if i just believe.

x3

do this every day, and focus on a ritual routine during each day. Commitment to yourself is the point of the altar work.

Work for Fridays - Venus Love & Play

1 (7 day) pink candle (for fridays) - Yellow candle (confidence booster)

for the altar, place a mirror a treasure box with your favorite trinkets like jewelry, favorite lip gloss etc. You can even add dollar bills if you want ;) Roses are a special type of flower to use for this type of altar work, but whatever you have near in your garden or around you in general is good as well.

A chant to love yourself :

I desire my company

My powers are in me

I am a full ocean of water

Created to feel the waves inside my body

Today, I am myself

Turning all insecurities into gold

I am the sun & the moon , the richness of the stars

I am brave, confident and bold

I am blooming like the trees and the flowers,

I am a being who grows into her natural essence.

My confidence is boosted with my light.

My personality is everything, its okay for me to be different.

I am the sun, and the moon, and the stars.

I am loved from up and above.

The universe is my reflection, I am beautiful just because.

Now, like the chant above, you will create something for yourself here. Its so that you can build a better bond with your intuition. Maybe you won't need to say anything, you might need to dance it out.

Play with yourself, touch your hair with each stroke using your brush. Do your makeup, sing and dance to your favorite song.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror will show you what you need to see. Whats missing.

Focusing on your intent on what you need most to show up in your beauty, confidence, self esteem will light up the way to how you express yourself moving forward. Which is why I said dance or singing as examples.

Because maybe you can write your chant/words of affirmation, or you can simply light the candles and go about your routine for yourself like you usually do, and sit with yourself as you're doing them to boost your confidence.

Its all about your perception on this last one.

The yellow candle is for your gut/intuiton. Focusing on your sense of self. Confidence booster.

The pink is for love, beauty and sensuality. Embracing the power of your beauty and essence and showing up for yourself.

I hope all is well on this journey of yours. Ase.a

[a-strange-server]

🦋 Strange Tales Of Halloween 2024 👻

It’s finally happening! The most awaited server event makes its yearly appearance! Can you believe it’s our third time?! Here’s to participation in whatever form you desire, let’s be strange together and make some spooky things!

Anyway, as our baby event grows, this year we decided to make one significant change: instead of lasting a whole month, the event is set during the last 2 weeks of October.

Brief info:

The event is set between 18–31 October 2024

We are open to all forms of creativity (fics, art, gifs, etc.) 🦋

42 prompts to choose from (2 types: words & sentences); 3 daily prompts

The main rule — works centred around Stephen Strange

Tag with #strangehalloween2024, so we can reblog on our Tumblr

If applicable, submit in our dedicated ao3 collection

Art by @unnnamedidiot with permission to use for the event. Show your support and reblog their amazing art!

We hope that you will once again have fun with Strange Tales of Halloween, whether by active participation or enjoyment of the contributions! Please remember to show your appreciation in comments, reblogs, kudos, etc. We encourage you to let others know that you like someone’s work! The fandom and its growing content exists because we want to be there, engaging with another. This is what allows Strange Tales of Halloween to be organised each year — you never disappoint by asking about said event!

🎃 Prompt list, FAQ & rules can be found bellow the line:

Prompt List

Friday 18 October — Bedtime story | Basement | Potion

Saturday 19 October — Claws | Whispers | “Follow me”

Sunday 20 October — Lies | Trick or treat | Zombies

Monday 21 October — Abandoned mansion | Scarecrow | “I don’t take orders from a cat”

Tuesday 22 October — Web | Cloak | Vampire

Wednesday 23 October — Spell book | Horns | “Stay still, or I’ll chop your hand off!”

Thursday 24 October — Candle | Wanderer | Shadow

Friday 25 October — Stars | Ruckus | “Say, weren’t you the one playing that creepy tune earlier?" "…I thought that was _you_.”

Saturday 26 October — Screams | Sacrifice | Poison

Sunday 27 October — Morbid curiosity | Wings | “Well, that’s a nifty spell!”

Monday 28 October — Summoning | Buried (alive) | Angel

Tuesday 29 October — Smile | Kingdom | “Are you speaking Latin?" "Why, aren’t _you_?”

Wednesday 30 October — Deal | Pumpkin (Spice Latte / Carving) | Demon

Thursday 31 October — Full Moon Party | Halloween | “Don’t mind them, they’re in the wardrobe.”

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝

FAQ & rules 2024

1. What must be included in the content of a filled prompt?

Stephen Strange (any version of him: film, TV, or comics etc.) must be either the main or co-main character. Otherwise, anything goes!

2. Can I still take part in the event even if I ship Stephen with someone?

Well, that can be a bit tricky, but generally — yes, you can. We’d prefer to not having Stephen or the other character(s) being there for the sole purpose of shipping, but we’re not against shipping during the event, as long as it all resolves to showing the story or whatever you come up with, that regardless of the dynamic or chosen relationship (platonic, romantic, familial etc.), in the end, it is about Doctor Stephen Strange.

An established relationship, first meeting, or getting together could be allowed if shipping isn’t the driving force behind writing a prompt (yes, of course you can be wanting to have them together, but the thing is — dig harder. Romantic content is a given within the fandom, but the fandom also needs General content! Or/and especially good whumping or angst, or a detective story, an unique AU etc. There are a lot of interesting prompts, so it’s a very good opportunity to try something new or different.

3. What must be included in the tags of posts?

Use the hashtag #strangehalloween2024. Add either into description or a tag the prompts you use (or both). On Tumblr, please include additional tags for NSFW (or NSFT meaning Not Safe For Tumblr) and common triggers (see AO3 for examples). The triggers apply to SFW works if necessary.

4. When can I post my prompt fill(s)?

In the spirit of the theme, these should be posted between 18–31 October 2024. Any strict rules don’t really exist, but we'd prefer if you post prompts the day they were chosen to be posted, e.g. one of the prompts from Saturday 26 October (Screams | Sacrifice | Poison) on said Saturday or after it if you're late, but not eatlier (not on Oct. 20). Don’t worry if you won’t be able to fulfil something on time, you can always participate even if fashionably late. We’d still add it to the ao3 collection or reblog on Tumblr if we see it.

5. Where on the discord server do I post my submissions?

In our gallery for the event in #strange-halloween. It’s for submitting your finished works. Even if it's fanfiction or something that would usually go into art channels, this event is an exception.

Reminder: said channel is not for casual talking, not even about the event, there’s a separate thread within the channel for that.

If your work happens to be NSFW, the usual rules apply: post those into NSFW channels. But if you want, you can write a message in #strange-halloween channel to tell others that you have created something, and point to the appropriate channel.

6. What medium can I use?

Anything! Written prose, poetry, gifsets, mood boards, artwork, playlists, you can even cook or bake something! Make a figurine, crochet something, do a scrapbooking thing, do a cosplay, make a board game, or a quiz. An app for a phone. A game, a collage. Anything goes. All it has to do is to follow the main rule of the event — being about Stephen Strange. No Stephen? No contribution in this one, sorry. So, all is acceptable as a prompt fill. It's all about Stephen Strange in any form he comes in.

7. Can I combine different prompts into one submission (e.g.: Wednesday 23 October Spell book | Horns | “Stay still, or I’ll chop your hand off!” + an earlier/later one) ?

Sure!

8. There are 3 prompts per day. Do I have to do it all?

No. You can do whichever one you want. But if you want to do all no one would be stopping you.

9. Can I use your prompt list with other prompt lists/bingo cards?

Absolutely! Combine it with any other event you'd like to do.

10. Are there any limits to how many prompts I can use/have to use?

Nope! Participate with one or all 42 items! Do as much as you'd like!

11. I’m a bit confused about some prompts; what are the brackets for?

The prompts that have a word in the brackets or also a slash within are the ones where you can be a bit creative (and cheat the system to have more prompts if you try enough), e.g.:

Monday 28 Oct — there's Buried as a prompt. You can use just that word or include the one in the brackets to have Buried alive. Technically, you could also try a different way and get rid of the first one and only have Alive.

Wednesday 30 Oct — we have the prompt Pumpkin so either use this singular word or use the suggested ones to get a Pumpkin Spice Latte, or another option which is Pumpkin Carving!

So, you can either completely omit the additionally suggested words or not. Have fun!

12. I’m not a native English speaker, can I make something in my native language or the one I'm trying to learn?

Of course, there are no limitations. The more, the merrier! Any contribution is valid.

🦇 🎃 👻 🦋 Any other questions? Feel free to send an ask to this tumblr. We can't wait to see what you come up with!

⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝ ⚝

Have a great spooky time! 🦋🎃🦋

[b-satela-star]

My firsts rituals

I Spell of Love and Attraction

(from : pinterest)

For this ritual, it is advisable to do it on a Friday of full moon or ascending moon.

You'll need :

Red-pink pen

Blank parchment-type paper

Some plants related to desire (rose, jasmine, cinnamon, basil)/natural incense

Red or pink candles

A cauldron (or container for combustion)

Incense charcoal

A deity to honor (relating to love, sexuality, desire, success, …)

A formula* (example below)

Of hope :) For my part, I will honor Lilith here as an example, but you can adapt the divinity to your beliefs, the important thing is the sincerity of your actions.

How to do it:

Light the candle and write the name and surname of your loved one on the sheet. Then write your own name and surname and circle them all 3 times.

Fold the paper 3 times and then write a symbol related to love on it.

Once the charcoal is lit, burn the plants/incense and recite the formula*, paper in hand and burn completely. You can drop a few drops of candle wax to seal the spell.

After the ashes have cooled, you should place them at the foot of a rose bush.

As for the formula, here is an example:

"I invoke Thee Lilith, O goddess of passion, liberty and courage, grant that my toil and my efforts may enable {her names} to come to me. Open for me the way of his heart, of love and happiness. Very sincerely, soon and forever, thank you."

Keep in mind that the process must be personal and sincere :)

II Spell for luck

(from : pinterest)

For this ritual, it is advisable to do it on a Thursday of full moon or ascending moon.

You'll need:

1 natural fabric pouch

2 green candles (or one green and the other related to the appearance (red-love, yellow-family, …))

1 homemade incense (dandelion or clover)

Salt (similarly, color/variety represents an aspect)

A bay leaf where you will have to write on one side your name and surname and on the other your initials (+possibly a number related to what you are looking for (7 for generally, 9 for the family)

A precious stone to put in the pouch (pyrite, amber, agate, emerald, beryl)

1 memorable object (a coin, a 4-leaf clover, a piece of jewelry)

1 paper with a sigil/symbol/seal of luck

One or more runes or lucky symbols to inscribe on one's hands before the ritual.

A formula* (+possibly a deity to be honored)

Example of a formula: "Uolo felicitatem in uita habere"

For my part, I honor Fortuna, goddess of luck and destiny.

Process:

Installation: Legs not crossed in a sufficiently dark room.

Light the candles and burn the plants/incense while reciting the formula (until the ritual is over).

Put in the bag in order: salt, then laurel, then plants (at least 3 different) and finally the ore.

Add the object and the paper at the same time to the pouch and tie it 3 times with a natural rope.

Keep the pouch in your hands and concentrate (nothing should remain, only the intentions and the incantation) charge with energy with your hands and place on a symbol of sacred geometry (pentagram, Metatron, Merkaba …).

Leave it to charge for 3 days and 3 nights and then you can keep the pouch on you or in a place like your room.

Good luck;)

[magickkate]

Witches! By aligning your magical workings with the energies of the moon, planets, and other celestial bodies, you can enhance the power of your spells and manifest your intentions more effectively. Here's a beginner's guide to spell timing:

Moon Phases: The phases of the moon have a profound effect on magical workings. Different phases are associated with different energies, so choose the phase that best aligns with your intention:

New Moon: Ideal for new beginnings, setting intentions, and planting seeds of growth. Waxing Moon: A time for growth, expansion, and attracting abundance. Full Moon: The peak of lunar energy, perfect for manifestation, charging, and releasing what no longer serves you. Waning Moon: A time for banishing, releasing, and letting go of negative influences.

Planetary Influences: Each day of the week is associated with a different planet, which influences the energies available for spellcasting:

Sunday (Sun): Power, vitality, success, and abundance. Monday (Moon): Intuition, emotions, psychic abilities, and feminine energy. Tuesday (Mars): Courage, strength, passion, and protection. Wednesday (Mercury): Communication, intellect, learning, and travel. Thursday (Jupiter): Expansion, luck, prosperity, and abundance. Friday (Venus): Love, beauty, harmony, and relationships. Saturday (Saturn): Discipline, structure, grounding, and protection.

Astrological Transits: Pay attention to astrological transits and alignments, as they can influence the energies available for spellcasting. For example, you might work with the energy of a particular zodiac sign or planetary aspect that supports your intention.

Personal Timing: Consider your personal energy and rhythms when timing your spells. Some witches prefer to work with their own natural cycles, such as their menstrual cycle or the cycles of the seasons, to enhance their magical workings.

By harnessing the energies of time and space, you can amplify the power of your spells and manifest your intentions more effectively. Experiment with different timing techniques and trust in your intuition to guide you in selecting the optimal timing for your magical workings! 🌙🕰️✨

[evanorphia]

i feel like at some point everyone just started making hope and lyall out to be bad parents and idk if i like or agree with that. how do you think they were as parents to remus??

OKAY SO I AM SO PASSIONATELY AGAINST THIS RHETORIC. it is me and holyall against the worls od fanfics that characterise them as bad parents.

they were the good parents. and sure they had their flaws, but all parents do.

i think remus grew up in north wales, probably somewhere near llandudno but not actually in the town. hope worked as a teacher part-time in one of the local secondary schools and if remus hadn’t been accepted into hogwarts, she would’ve probably ended up being his english teacher. every friday remus would come home from primary school to freshly baked challah that hope would bake for each shabbos and every sunday she’d make french toast with the left over challah for breakfast (challah french toast is superior). lyall did his best too, he would take remus to the park whenever remus asked, would let him stay up to watch tv or listen to music, and the two of them did their best to spoil him with the little money they did have, although they were quite tight most of the time.

they’d go on camping holidays where they’d hike and swim and have a camp fire. hope is the driver of the family and refuses to use magic to travel anywhere, and lyall agrees every time. they’re constantly listening to music in the car together, the three of them adore music, they’re always singing and messing around with goofy impressions of whoever the singer of the song they’re listening to is.

after full moons, hope would always make remus chicken broth and lyall would do his best to heal remus’ wounds with magic (although he was never the best with medical spells) and they’d do everything they could to make remus feel safe, loved, and secure although lyall’s guilt would be eating him alive every time the full moon happened.

as remus got older and wanted more independence, they started to clash a bit, they were always protective of him after greyback bit him, but they always eventually work through whatever shit they have going on this time. and when remus realises he’s gay, he’s still worried about them not supporting him but they only care for his happiness, not whether or not he’s with a girl or boy

[the-mortuary-witch]

FREYJA

WHO IS SHE?

Freyja is the goddess of love, beauty, fertility, and war in Norse mythology. She is often portrayed as a beautiful and powerful goddess who rides a chariot pulled by cats. She is known for her immense love, warmth, and affection, especially towards her close friends and loved ones. She is also known for her fierce and protective nature, which she uses to defend her loved ones and those who are innocent and vulnerable. She is one of the main goddesses, and is associated with several domains of life, and also plays a role in war and wisdom.

BASIC INFO:

Appearance: Freyja is described as a beautiful and ethereal goddess, with blonde hair and a slender body. She is often portrayed as a symbol of fertility and femininity, and she is often depicted as wearing a thin scarf or veil called a völva cloak. Sometimes she is described as having red hair and a bright, youthful face. In other depictions, she is described as having long, wavy hair and a delicate, feminine physique.

Personality: she is described as being a very loving, kind, and caring figure, who is associated with fertility and femininity. She is seen as a deity of love and passion, and is often likened to a mother figure. She is also seen as being a very compassionate and generous goddess, who is willing to help and support others.

Symbols: her chariot pulled by cats, brisingamen necklace, the boar Hildisvíni, and cloak of feathers

Goddess of: love, beauty, fertility, sex, war, battle, gold, and sorcery

Culture: Norse

Plants and trees: daisy, linden, snowdrops, lily of the valley, cowslip, columbine, pimpernel, strawberries, elderflower, thyme, and zinnias

Crystals: amethyst, amazonite, lavender quartz, rose quartz, moonstone, and clear quartz

Animals: horse, cat, falcon, hawk, rabbit, oxen, ladybug, swallow, and boar

Incense: dragons blood, frankincense, lavender, rose, jasmine, and other sweet and/or floral-scents

Colours: gold, yellow, white, green, red, pink, and light blue

Numbers: 9 and 12

Zodiac: Taurus

Tarot: The High Priestess, The Empress, The Lovers, The Chariot, Death, and Suit of Swords

Planets: Venus and Mars

Days: Friday, Tuesday, Lupercalia, full moon, new moon, Ostara, Litha, and Beltane

Parents: Njörðr and unnamed mother

Siblings: Freyr

Partner: Odin

Children: Hnoss and Gersemi

MISC:

• The moon is a symbol of Freyja's divinity.

• The Vanir Queen is a common title given to Freya.

• The völva cloak is a symbol of Freyja's power and authority.

• Heifer's milk was traditionally offered to Freyja during rituals or spells.

• Freyja was associated with the day of Friday.

• Many people have the belief that Freyja is a Goddess of nature, but this is not necessarily accurate in Norse mythology.

FACTS ABOUT FREYJA:

• In some sources, she is known as the leader of the völva, which are the female seers and mystics of Norse mythology.

• Freyja is said to be the creator of the Vanir tribe of gods.

• She has given the gift of fertility to the Vanir.

• In Norse mythology, it is said that Freyja received the golden ring Brisingamen from the Dwarves in exchange for her favor, which leads to the story of her affair with Odin.

• Freyja is said to have gifted Skádi a necklace called Érfárátr which gives eternal youthful beauty.

• She had a magical feathered cloak which she could use to transform into a falcon. The cape made it possible for her to astral travel, to see beyond the limits of the physical world. She loaned it to Loki at some point.

HOW TO INVOKE FREYJA:

Working with of Freyja involves taking time to set up a sacred space, cleaning and dedicating this space, offering prayers of reverence and gratitude, showing care and thought with offerings, asking for guidance and wisdom with your prayers, being open to messages she may send, and being mindful and attentive throughout the devotion.

PRAYER FOR FREYJA:

"Mother Freyja, Queen of the Vanir and holder of golden Brisingamen, I come to you seeking your guidance and protection.

I respectfully ask for your blessing and your help in whatever I undertake. I offer you our prayers and our devotion, with respect and reverence. Please look upon us with your gentle mercy and your grace. I give myself to you, for I trust you will use me as you see fit. I ask this in your name and I pay this tribute in your honour.”

"Thank you, Mother Freyja, for your wisdom and generosity. I have received your blessings and your guidance, and I ask for your continued protection and support. As you see fit, I humbly beg your favor and your grace. I give ourselves to you, and I worship you with devotion and respect. So be it. Hail Mother Freyja.”

SIGNS THAT FREYJA IS CALLING YOU:

• Finding yourself drawn to her energy and feeling a strong connection.

• You feel a strong sense of devotion and reverence towards her.

• You experience synchronicity or signs that seem to indicate her presence.

• You have an urge to work with her, and you feel an overwhelming need to reach out to her.

• Freyja comes to you in a dream

• She comes to you in meditation or journeying

• Cats follow you or seem to be everywhere you go

• A ladybug lands on you

• You see ladybugs or cats constantly – on TV, online, etc.

• You hear her name in random conversations or on the radio

• Open a book and her name pops up

• Another witch or psychic tells you Freyja is calling you

• She sends you these 3 runes repetitively: Fehu, Berkano, and Sowilo

OFFERINGS:

• Foods and drinks: ale, apples, barley, honey, mead, pork, chocolate, and sweet liquors

• Lavish jewelry

• Perfume

• Feeding stray cats

• Amber

• Roses

• Cinnamon

• Flowers: primrose, mugwort, bird berry, bedstraw, and flax

• Love songs

• Dancing

• Cat whiskers (please don’t cut a kitty’s precious whiskers, wait for them to shed naturally - look for them mostly during Summer and on the places your cats spend most of their time)

• Divination

•Weaponry

DEVOTIONAL ACTS:

• Pray or meditate in her name on a daily basis.

• Keep a journal, record your thoughts and feelings about her.

• Create an altar or sacred space for her.

• Do not declaw her for being a Goddess of love and beauty. Recognize her for the god of war that she is, Queen of the Valkyries, and god of the Vanir.

• Decorate your home or altar with cats, honey combs, horns, or bones.

• Practice self love in it’s totally, look at where you need to grow but recognize and appreciate your strengths.

• Carry the crystals (or keep in your home): amber, rose quartz, snow quartz, gold sheen obsidian, labradorite, orange calcite, tangerine quartz, and peridot.

• Dedicate a piece of jewelry to her in honour of her Brisingamen.

• Drink floral teas like lavender, chamomile, rose, or jasmine with honey.

• Read the stories that mention her: Völuspá, Lokasenna, Oddrúnargrátr, Gylfaginning, Skáldskaparmál, Egils saga, Njáls saga, Hyndluljóð, Hálfs saga ok Hálfsrekka, Grímnismál, Sörla þáttr, and Þrymskviða.

• Use the runes Fehu, Kaunaz, Jera, and Uruz in your craft or altar.

• Plant alder, apple, birch, bramble, elder, vervain, rose, tansy, lavender, yarrow, or belladona.

• Dedicate a leg shaking orgasm to her.

• Take a bath in salts, roses, and lavender. Decorate accordingly.

• Enchant your make up to make you feel beautiful, confident, and strong.

• Learn self defense or kick boxing; or just do something to help you stay active and strong in her honour.

• Light incense or candles of rose, honey, jasmine, amber, strawberry, dragon’s blood, or musk.

• Learn about or listen to kulning and Norwegian throat-singing.

• Pray to her for your loved ones in battles whether it’s oversees, a disease, or an abusive relationship.

• Leave her offerings of mead, weed, wine, red velvet, roasted nuts, honey, pork, bread, or chocolate.

• Explore yourself and your body.

• Watch movies/tv shows with strong female leads (preferably with none problematic actors) like Wonder Woman, How To Get Away With Murder, Mowana, Queen of Katwe, etc.

• Spend time in nature, as she is often associated with the natural world.

• Talk to her openly and honestly about your thoughts, feelings, and concerns.

• Read or study books on Norse mythology and the Goddess, Freyja.

• Consider growing some of Freyja’s holy plants: primrose, mugwort, holly, hemp, or flax

• By adopting a cat (if you don’t already have one), you uplift Freyja’s sacred animal. And if you can’t adopt a cat, consider donating cat food, toys, etc. to a local rescue or shelter. OR volunteer. Doing these things in Freya’s name brings her great joy.

[harvestmoss]

💕 Spellworks: Various sex magic spells

It's a lovely Friday! and I planned some sex magic, so here's what I did, including a few spells.

As always, this is an 18+ post, and generally I do not want minors interacting with posts like these.

TIME

Friday is the day of Venus (you may also remember it being the day of Aphrodite or Freya). This means that love and sex spells are especially powerful. I also casted on a waxing moon, as I wanted to build up passion and vigor. Though, sex magic also benefits from full moons and new moons.

TOOLS

I was performing a bunch of small little spells and ingredients to empower my bedroom with lust.

Cayenne pepper, cinnamon, mint, lavender, thyme, water, ginger, sugar, bay leaves, rose petals, flour, vanilla powder, yarrow, love oil.

morter and pestle, lighter, myrrh incense, fire proof dishes, small dishes, priapic wand, swan feather, small mirror, red candle, rose quartz, pen, sigil, cloth, adult toys.

SPELLS

Using my priapic wand, I cleansed and waved the wand around each corner, door, and bed to cleanse. Afterwards I lit some myrrh incense and wafted it around with the swan feather, letting the myrrh burn and fill up the room, I lit a new one when one was almost done. I continued wafting the swan feather around em as well to cleanse myself. - To make sure the space was cleansed and ready for sex magic, priapic wand is especially powerful for this.

I cleaned my tools with the myrrh incense. - Myrrh is considered one of the most erotic fragrances, it makes a woman burn with passion.

I poured thyme in a dish and poured boiling water over it, letting it steep and strained it. After cooling, I used the thyme water and washed myself. Thyme is a magnetic botanical of lust and love. - Thyme is derived from Helen of Troy's tears. Bathing yourself in her tears makes you a magnet to love, careful with how much as Helen was kidnapped twice.

I chewed and ate some mint. - people chew mint gum before a first date to freshen their breath, but it also helps with memory and sweet talking.

I anointed my doors with love oil. - To strengthen my bedroom.

I grinded* some thyme, rose petals, flour, cinnamon**, vanilla powder, and yarrow to make a love powder, this was sprinkled at the head of the bed, the corners, and underneath it. I sprinkled some by the doors as well, and a tiny bit on the sheets. - to invoke love and sex into my bed and bedroom.

I grinded lavender and thyme and sprinkled it in a fire proof dish, along with the love powder. I dressed a red candle with love oil and set it ablaze. Placing a rose quartz in the dish. I wrote my fiancés name on a bay leaf and set it on fire, letting the candle burn fully down. - This was to inspire passion and lust in my woman at home.

I mixed 2 parts cayenne pepper, 1 part sugar, and 1/2 part ginger, and 1/2 part cinnamon, and 1 part love oil. I anointed this mixture under the bed. To inspire good sex. Cayenne for more nasty and rough, sugar for more intimate and sweet. - To gain a good and specific kind of sex life, specifically on the bed.

Underneath my mattress, by the foot end, I have a red bag tied with red ribbon filled with rose petals and lavender, this make sure I have a good sex life, I cleansed it with smoke and charged it again.

I cleansed the small mirror and anointed with love powered and oil, Avoiding looking into it, I'm planning to capture a specific essence into this mirror, as in sex and lust, and my woman, using the mirror as a talisman to draw her to me. I have yet to complete this as it needs some days and charging it and exposing it to images for 8 days.

(*For sex magic, I do everything counter clockwise and near my genitals. This is to invoke deviancy, passion, and vigor. While clockwise would be the "vanilla sex" or reduce sexual drive.)

(**Cinnamon can be irritative on the skin, so I used cinnamon here sparingly.)

EXTRA

I never force my woman. She knows I do this spells on her, and even so, she doesn't mind if I did them in secret either. Funnily enough, she entered the bedroom as the candle was nearing the end and demanded we had fun. So we did, and I got to charge my sigil of lust with sexual fluids. Of course I forgot to make sure the mirror faced the bed to capture the moment. But overall, because of this interaction, which I did not ask her help for, I can say for certain that my sex spells worked wonderfully.

I also wanted to note that I always have rose petals by my window sill, and I made the sigil and constantly charge it every so often to make sure we have a good sex life. I also fed my woman some fruits earlier which included strawberries, figs, chocolate, and grapes, in a pink mug.

I have been performing glamour magic as well, which made me feel more fantastic as I performed these spells. It also helped being in the mindset and passionately invoked when doing these spells.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading my blog post and gained some sex magic inspiration. I've been wanting to post some spells but didn't know how, so I thought a little blog-like post would be fun.

Excuse grammar errors and spelling mistakes, English is not my first language.

[2024-grimoire-challenge]

June Week 3: Circles and Other Shapes

So one of the typical and almost stereotypical things we hear about and see when we get into witchcraft is the magic or the sacred circle. Why is that? This week we're going to be looking into the sacred and magical circle and other shapes and their purposes in magic and witchcraft.

So let's dive in!

Monday - Dissecting and Defining the Circle

Research/ New Page - Let's look into the history of magic circles. What are they? What are they used for? Why do we make them? How do we make them? When do we make them? What do we need in order to make them? Do we need to make them at all? Where do they come from? Can you find any scientific, metaphysical or historical context for magic circle? Is there a difference between a magic circle and a sacred circle? What, if any are the parts of these circles?

Research/ New Page - Herb Study - Pick another herb from your list and dive in. Learn everything you can! From the mundane, to the magical, and beyond. How does it grow? How do your propagate it? Where is it from? What is its history and any legends or myths related to it? What are its associations?

Tuesday - Philosophy of the circle

Research/ New Page - In terms of sacred geometry, and most spiritualities and religions around the world, what does the circle itself represent? Look at philosophers of the recent and distant past, in their beliefs and thoughts what do circles represent? Now think hard about your own beliefs. What do circles represent and mean to you and within your practice? (Think... something along the lines of the "circle of life" kind of an idea. Add these things to your page on circles!

Gem Study/ Other - Pick a gem or another thing you want to study and go deep! Discorver how it is formed, what its used for, what its associations are, and so on!

Wednesday - Applied theory

Practical - Cast a circle! Or at least, if its not part of your craft, sit and meditate on the meaning and purposes of the circles that you've learned above!

Divination/ Journal - Perform a divination reading of any kind, and if you can't do it yourself and would like to, have someone else do it for you! Whatever the reason, and whatever the medium, journal the reading, and the results!

Research - Design - Beyond the fact that it is a circle, how are magic and sacred circles designed? Think Full Metal Alchemist, or Solomon's circles or the magic circles from other pop culture, the runes and sigils, the intricate details within the circles, how have they historically and popularly been designed? How would you design your own?

Thursday - Other Shapes

Research - Look into basic and sacred geometry. What do the various shapes represent? What are they used for, magically speaking, spiritually speaking, and beyond? What are their associations if any? Dig deep into the purposes of the shapes, what are their structural shapes and purposes? How can they be used together? Think about how they work together symbolically? (think things like the Vitruvian Man) and what it means and represents?

Friday - Cast, Tweak Repeat!

Practical - Pick a spell or make a spell and work through it in your lab notebook! What is it you're trying to accomplish? What ingredients and components do you need? What are the steps to the spell? How do you go about preparing? How do you clean up after?

Journal - Record (in your lab notebook) the timing and extra details of spell. Did you wait to do it on a certain day or phase of the moon? Did you do it during a certain kind of weather? Record it all!

The topics weren't quite as heavy this week, but I hope they were thought provoking and helped you figure out a little more about those Sacred Circles we see and hear about! Stay tuned for more prompts! We're about halfway through the year and I appreciate all of you and your continued support and involvement with this project!

-Mod Hazel

[the-corset-witch]

did i just do a spell on this subject on full moon friday? yes.

am i gunna do a sweetening jar to try n boost said spellery? yes.

is there any one human person in this world that could stop me? no.