#putting anger magick to work

[vulpine111]

[enterwittyjokehere]

[Angsty Gale won the poll, have fun with his mage hand guys. ;)]

Dread Alter of The Heart

[Gale (of waterdeep) Dekarios x afab reader smut]

[⚠️Warnings⚠️]

[Agrument]

[Mentions of death and being blown up]

[Angry at old man]

[Early act two spoilers!!!]

[Heavy smut 18+ only]

[Teasing]

[Incorrect use of mage hand]

“I am so very sorry, Gale..” The old man's words filled you with a burning rage, a pit that sat in the top of your chest, right next to your heart, and made fiery tears fill your eyes. The dangerous emotion was clear to both of the wizards surrounding you, Gale was more concerned by the sudden uncharacteristic change in your demeanor. 

Gale’s warm hand moved to sit on your shoulder, in an attempt to provide a bit of emotional support and to try and quell your worsening rage. The large hand rubbed at the bone of your shoulder, you only shrugged it off as you took a step closer to Elminster.

Fists balled and face getting redder by the second, you pointed a finger past the old man, “Get out of my camp.” 

You said it as calmly as you could, the anger inside of your chest making you less than rational. A hand firmly grabbed at your wrist, “(y/n), please, Elminster is a dear friend.”

Turning to face Gale, you furrowed your eyebrows, “No, Gale, friends don't randomly show up, eat all your food and then tell you to kill yourself, not good friends at least.”

“As previously stated I am so very sorry, Gale, truly.” You shot the old wizard a glare.

After being reprimanded by Gale once again, you retreated, stomping off to your tent. Letting the flap of fabric, used as the door, fall down, you sat upright on your bedroll, head hung low.

The feelings you held for your party's wizard were so blatant and obvious, the whole team was aware. Hearing what has to come next made you fearful, to say the least. Holding your hands up to your face, your bundle of stressful emotions left through your eyes.

The looming spectre, known as the fear of rejection, had kept you from ever allowing Gale to know your true feelings. Even now as he was going to put the half assed forgiveness from a goddess, who has done nothing but abuse and misuse both him, his trust and his magickal abilities over the life he lives currently and more importantly to you, the one he could live, after this was all over, with you.

Not knowing if he would even accept your love now that his goddess was back in the equation. All the hard work you had put into your delusions of a content life with a sweet wizard husband poured down the drain. Almost left you feeling like you belonged in the sewers of Baldr’s gate.

Reveling in your reminiscent remorse took you out of your surroundings and your tears became sobs. The emotional waves that washed over you felt uncontrollable, almost inconsolable, as though no one could help, the dreaded feeling of losing Gale, all to win the favor of some goddess, left you in hysterics.

Sobbing into your hands, you sniffled and swore under your breath, left startled by a sharp clearing of a throat outside your tent. 

“(Y/n)... Can I speak with you?” Gale muttered, then pausing to wait for your response, your startled demeanor fluctuated, relief poured into you when Gale’s voice was heard and then you remembered that you are almost in no shape to speak to him.

Eyes puffy and nose running, you were aware that your disheveled state was obvious and yet when Gale asked to talk you could never say no. The butterflies started without even having to look at him, knowing right now he was outside your tent waiting to speak with you made you giddy. 

“Sh*t-! Yes, Gale. Just… um- give me a second.” You said, hurriedly, wiping your red tearstained face on the sleeve of your cotton camp clothes. 

Opening the flap of the tent, you stepped out into Gale's view. He frowned for a second, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Have you been crying?” 

You glanced up at him, biting onto your bottom lip in an attempt to quell the next round of tears. Nodding your head slightly, before your attempt to stop your overflowing emotions failed, Gale wrapped an arm around you pulling you into an embrace.

“I should be the one crying, I'll be the one that has to… you know.” He said, laughing slightly, before making a worried face.

You didn't have to see his face to know what he did, he was so predictable in everything, or maybe you just knew him well enough. Sniffling slightly you shook your head, “No. I won't let you. We'll find another way.” 

“I am afraid that's not your place, my friend.” Gale said, pulling away from you.

Your hands rested on his shoulders, gripping tightly onto the sleeve of his shirt, your face wet from tears. You shuttered when his big brown eyes found your own, “...Gale, I'm in love with you.”

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, the tone of your voice was as though that was a reason for him to let you stop him. 

Gale's lips curled into a small smile, yet his eyes were still sad, “I know.” 

His words were gentle and sweet, he wrapped his arms around you again, before speaking once more, “and maybe had I not been cursed with this ‘divine purpose’ we could've had each other.”

More tears pushed over the threshold, your hands attempted to retract from Gale's shoulders. He watched as your lip began to quiver and you backed away, “Or you could've chosen me… instead of a goddess who has done nothing for you.” 

You tried to turn around, away from Gale, but he grabbed your wrist, “Please, you should know I cannot disobey Mystra, she is magick and magick is-”

“Your life?” You finished, knowing where his words would end, “That's what I wanted too.” 

Ripping your hand away from the wizard, you wiped your tears. Turning around, only to have Gale's hands latch onto your wrist holding you firmly in place. His eyes peered into you, pleading for you to listen. Yet the hurt in your heart hid his heart from your eyes, your clouded mind forbade you from taking the wizard as who he truly was.

“(Y/n), please, don't be like this..” Gale called, “I love you too, you make me happier than anyone else, I would love nothing more than to make you mine and allow all of Faerûn that knowledge and yet-”

“Gale, Please, you said quite enough, already.” The belated words hurt more than they should have, Gale's attempt to rekindle a flame he had just extinguished only killed the dying sparks further. 

Gale placed a hand to his chest, his now sad eyes peering into you, “I love you, too, please.” 

You shook your head, “No, if you loved me I would mean more to you than-” 

“Mystra means very little to me-! But if this is the only way to save Faerûn, to save everyone… including you, I have to do it. It's my responsibility…” Gale said, grabbing at the orb that decorated both the inside and outside of his chest, “Please… I love you.” 

“You've said that… Gale-” 

Your words were swiftly cut short as Gale's warm hands found your face, cupping the soft tearstained flesh. He pushed his forehead to your own, “Please, allow me a chance is all I ask…”

You stayed silent, Gale tilted your head slightly and pressed a hot kiss to your forehead. 

His eyes found your own again, “Tonight there is no orb, no absolute just you and me… We can worry about Elminster and Mystra's demand when the need for such an action arises.” 

Your eyes filled with tears once more, you blinked as they rolled down your cheeks. Only to be wiped away by Gale's thumb, “No need for tears, my darling, please.”

You looked up into Gale's eyes, he took the moment to smile down at you before pressing his lips to your own, kissing you properly. Your hand slipped behind his shoulder, holding onto the fabric of his shirt, holding the fabric tightly you pulled Gale off of you.

“If I allow you this-”

“If we find another way to defeat this thing… consider it done, orb and Gale, both still intact.” Gale said, his eyes staring into you.

“And Mystra?”

“What of her?” Gale questioned where you were going with your words.

“I’m sure she won’t be pleased with me taking her sweet little lapdog.”

“Then, she should have considered that before tossing me aside.” Gale spoke, placing a short lived kiss to your lips, “Its as you said, why kill myself to please a Goddess, who has done less for me than the sweet adventurer i’ve grown to know and love.”

“Stop with the flattery and kiss me already, wizard.” You teased, Gale smiled, placing his hands on your hips and doing exactly as you told him. Leaning over to meet you in another kiss, your hands found his shoulders as Gale pulled your body closer. 

The closeness of the two of you made you needy as you would move and tease both of you, small whines trickling from your throat. Gale moved a hand to rest on the inside of your thigh pulling your leg over his hip, you would move occasionally brushing against his growing er*ct*on. The thoughts that ran through his head were less than savory, your free hand tangling in his long hair. While his lips devoured your own, his tongue ravaged the inside of your mouth, searching the cavern thoroughly. 

Gale pulled away from the kiss, panting like a dog, “Gods, we should at least get inside before continuing, if you wish to continue..” His words lingered; they carried insecurity but also curiosity as though he was searching for your consent, eager to know your wishes.

 Perhaps he wondered if you wanted him as much as he wanted you, a small smile found your face, “Oh, please Gale, you’re not getting out of this that easily.”

You backed into the tent, moving against him as soon as he entered, kissing him roughly, once more. Gale’s hands fluttered to your hips, holding you flush to his body, smiling into the embrace.

Inside the tent, Gale placed you down on a large wooden chest. His heavy breathing and lidded eyes made your stomach curl in excitement. 

“Lay down, my precious.” He said, placing a kiss to the back of your hand, “By the gods, you're perfect.”

His words were expelled in a groan as you followed his instructions, laying back in the cold wood of the chest. Gale's steady hands began disrobing you, he unbuttoned and pulled off your trousers. 

Before he started on your undergarments he licked the pad of his thumb, pushing it to your clothed core. You squirmed at the action, pulling a small chuckle from the wizard's lips, “Patience, I will not keep you waiting long.” 

He pulled away from you, and began slipping out of his robe, then he hastily unbuttoned his own trousers. Discarding both of the garments onto the floor of your tent, he smiled down at you palming the growing tent in his purple underwear.

You pushed onto your elbows watching him, licking your lips as your eyes traced over his crotch. Gale moved closer to you, his hands enveloping your clothed chest, playing with the soft flesh, “Your turn.” 

His simper was ravenous, like he could devour you whole. He moved closer, kneeling onto the chest, his body hanging over your own. 

The closer Gale got to you the worse your craving for him panged in your aching core. It didn't help that when he pressed a long cascading kiss to your lips, his knee pressed into your lower body, rubbing your warm core. Gale would pull away and come right back into the kiss, igniting a passionate fire beneath him.

Each time the wizard would pull away from your embrace, muttering your praises, only to reignite the kiss. His hand pumping around his hard c**k, groaning into the kiss, “G-Gale, please…”

His lidded eyes opened, staring down at you, nodding slightly before he pulled away. Gale quickly slipped off the briefs, kneeling down at the edge of the chest, he took a finger slipping off your underwear. The wizard's free hand cast mage hand, a spell resulting in a small ghostly hand to appear, with a flick of his free hand the mage hand slipped over your chest. Playing with your nipples, the blue hand teased your hardening bud.

Gale smiled at the sounds the spell elicited, moving his free hand to hold down one of your legs, while spreading your lower lips open. Your attempt at keeping your eyes on Gale failed as he moved into your core, suckling sweetly on the aching bud in your lower body. 

The more ragged and feral your moans for him became the quicker his hand at the base of his own pleasure moved. He mumbled and moaned into your core as you rocked your hips against his face, in an attempt to secure more pleasure for yourself.

“You're more than I could ever need, don't you ever forget that.” Gale moaned out, his tongue assaulting your sensitive c*nt.

“Yeah and that's why you're going to find another way, right?”

“Whatever you ask of me.” He said, before standing up to fully penetrate your lower body.

Your hands found his forearms, while Gale's hands settled on the dips of your hips, you moaned out before biting your lip to quell your noises.

“Let's make this quick, yeah?” Gale said as he rocked in and out of you, “I don't think I can last much longer.”

The friction between the two of you was ecstatic, the building knot in your lower stomach pleaded to be broken. The blue hand Gale had summoned, moved down to where your bodies met, rubbing the abused bundle of nerves Gale had previously been sucking on.

With a jolt of your hips your climax hit, Gale almost immediately succumb to the warmth squeezing feeling of you tensing around him. Sloppily thrusting in, he chased the high while you squirmed beneath him, overstimulation threatened to ruin your moment.

“I hope we didn't wake the others.” You spoke your voice shaky.

Gale looked up at you, kissing you gently, “To the hells with them.”

[aphrosheir]

☆= The Life of Rio and Nicky =☆

[A/N: No Lilia content for today (maybe in the next part of this, who knows). I literally wrote this for 30 minutes, and this is probably me coming into terms with the last two episodes. There is going to be slight... Can I even call this angst? But it's fluff-topia, alright? Buckle up, ladies.]

"Mommy?" Nicky called out as her mother arrived home still in her green bodysuit, which Rio quickly magicked away, leaving her in her pyjamas.

Rio hummed, stepping into their little kitchen where Nicky had been eating the sandwich that Rio left her. "Yes, my love?"

"When will I see mama again?"

Tears stung Rio's eyes, the thought of their last encounter burning a hole through her heart. "Nicky, come here."

Rio hoisted the boy up, resting him on the counter. She bent down with her arms resting on either side of Nicky, so that their eyes met.

"Mommy, you said I could see mama again." The boy whispered, rubbing his eye.

"I know, baby. Mommy's sorry, okay?" Rio's voice broke. "I'm still trying to get mama to come home."

"Doesn't she want to come home?"

"N-no. Not like that Nicky."

Rio looked at her son's face, full of confusion, sadness, and even... Anger. It made her head spin at Agatha's audacity to leave them. To leave her family.

But she can't let Nicky be mad at her mother. After all Agatha did for him. And for her. But how was she supposed to explain to their child that she messed up? That her mama hated her mom so much that she lost her only chance at reuniting her with Nicky?

"Your mama... Lost her way home. And I'm trying to guide her, just like when I brought you here, right?"

Nicky nodded, taking a bite of his sandwich once more. He was a smart child, albeit he got Rio's soft heart. There was nothing in the world that he loved more than his mama, so much so that it even made Death a little envious.

"Is she almost here?"

The breaking of Rio's heart was audible that it rang throughout the afterlife. "Yeah..."

"Well then, I want to spend a little more time with you, mommy! I'm sure mama would want you all to herself when she gets here."

A broken laugh escaped Rio. And so did a tear or two. She was her son.

Rio fake gasped, "Do you think mommy would ever let that happen, my love?"

Nicky shook his head, laughing with his mother. Fingers slid to his sides, tickling him. "Mommy, stop!"

"Hmm..." Rio smiled. "You know, some of your mama's friends are here, my love."

"Really?" Nicky's eyes lit up. "Can I meet them, mommy? Please?"

"Alright, alright, put the puppy dog eyes away. I'll invite them over to our house, m'kay? Help me decorate!"

"We can bake too!"

Rio nodded, as she squeezed Nicky in her arms. "The cookie monster is going to get'cha!"

"No!" Nicky yelled, giggles spurring from his mouth.

"Okay, my love. You go get the flour, and the sugar. We can start baking, and while these are in the oven, we can go make the decorations, alright?"

Nicky nodded eagerly, saluting his mom before rushing off to their cupboard. "Ooh, my little trooper! So brave."

They worked in happy harmony, even if their flour got everywhere but their bowls, and if their sugar got into their mouths more than the mix.

"Down down down the road, down the witches road..." Nicky sang quietly as he mixed the dry into their wet.

"Down down down the road," Rio chimed in. The pain that the road brought her was irrelevant if it made her son so happy. "Down the witches road."

Rio smiled at him, taking the mix and putting it on his nose. "Mommy, stop!"

They set their cookies in the oven, taking their time to clean up their mess. After that, they'd decorated their living room with spooky banners and creepy spiders, Nicky's favourite horror movie, It, taking center stage.

And at the end of their endeavour, they were tired. Tired but happy.

"Do you think they would like it?

"They're gonna love it, Nicky." Rio kissed Nicky's flour-ridden temples, "And they're going to love you, my love."

Nicky returned the favour, kissing Rio on the cheek, two times. "And I love you, Mommy."

"I love you too, Nicky."

[anamelessfool]

Scenes from the Void in the year 2025 Drabble

random set up drabble. Includes a slight spoiler but tbh it's going to be years maybe until we get to this point in the story so who cares lol

Copia and Marian

Copia is semi-retired and married Marian in a private ceremony in 2022. Due to [REDACTED EVENTS] Marian is now Mother Imperator and has all the magick abilities granted to the Custodian of the Void. The learning curve is steep and it has been a personal struggle and strain on their relationship. Not to mention convincing the rest of the congregation of her validity has been most of the work done in the past three years. For the most part the seat of Papa Emeritus has been vacant during this time and the Ghost Project has suffered. The Church is on the brink of political and arcane crisis while Copia hesitates to find his successor. Deep down Copia and Marian are terrified of losing each other again.

Secondo and Sandra

At 64 Secondo is...not doing well. His lifelong smoking habit is catching up with him quickly. This summer he has a major surgery planned and will be incapacitated for a few weeks. Sandra is going to spend most of her time working and supporting him while he's recovering in the hospital.

Paul (Secondo's eldest son)

Paul is 21. He was accepted for a near full ride at Juliard due to his extensive instrumental talents. He became the lead guitarist/secondary vocalist for a local NYC powermetal band Frosthammar. Paul dropped out of college when Frosthammar started getting popular and toured for 18 months as an opener for a (slightly more popular) metal band. But by the fall of 2024 he had to go on hiatus due to his father's sudden decline.

He's staring down the possible reality of giving all of it up to support his family. It's something that is increasingly difficult to accept. He offers to bring his siblings up to the Ministry HQ for a bit of their summer vacation while his parents are dealing with the hospital recovery. It's a kind gesture but with an alterior motive: he's convinced that the only thing that could possibly save his creative life is to pursue the path of Papa Emeritus. Perhaps his uncle would see his vision differently from his own father.

Eden (15) and Sam (13)

Eden has always been sensitive to the arcane and lately she's been suffering from horrific bouts of insomnia and waking dreams. She feels haunted most of the time and puts it into her poetry. At night when she does sleep she has the recurring nightmare of knocking behind dark doors. Whitened eyes embedded in shadow asking to be let in.

Sam is the most average suburban child on Earth. One would not expect such a lineage to produce a boy this obsessed with sports and video games. But he's completely in his own struggle to separate himself from it all. He's short and quick to anger and comes across as a bully in his school. There's a strong possibility he may have to repeat a grade next year if things don't change. Maybe some time unplugged and alone upstate with his siblings and uncle's bizarre cult would sort him out. Sure.

And so the scene is set in the summer of 2025. Three troubled kids arrive at the Ministry HQ, while Copia scrambles to keep his organization together and the Dark Mother Marian calls out to the Void for answers.

Sometimes it calls back. And sometimes it tells you exactly what you desire to hear.

[gnosisofthedualrealms]

I'm not a fan of summoning spirits with a specific intention.

Everyone has their own approach to summoning spirits, but I do not like the practical approach. I don't like summoning angels and demons with a specific request utilizing a specific power associated with them. For instance, you'll never find me summoning Bael to make me invisible, but if he wants to, then that's cool.

When I summon spirits, I focus on what they tell me. Whatever information I need to know at the time will be shared with the spirit I summon. I strongly believe that all things happen as they're supposed to, meaning if I happen to summon a spirit today, it was synchronistically set to happen.

When I focused on this approach to ritual work, I found that I opened myself up more to unique situations that my unconscious would focus on during the day. For instance, I might read some piece of text that I feel I need to pay attention to, or some conversation would happen that would make me feel overly emotional. These feelings would translate to the ritual. It feels like they were the ones to draw my attention to that specific thing, which would then be expanded on in the ritual.

This has been happening almost daily, which has shifted me away from considering their powers completely. The demons and angels don't need to be commanded to use their powers. You just need to give them the space to work with it, and they'll give you exactly what you need.

This was a problem I observed in religion as well. Christians talk about faith in God, but so few of them understand its depths. If you truly abandon yourself to faith, you shouldn't have to ask God to fix your stuck situation. God is the one who put you there, and God will be the one to pull you out at the right time. For those who truly mastered faith (certainly not me), they can go through unimaginable torment, like loved ones passing, and understand that it was just meant to be. It's not different with Magick.

Magick won't work well if you don't believe, and in my opinion, if you have to be so specific as not just to ask but command a result, you lack the faith necessary for magick to really flourish.

Sometimes, it's not about getting rid of bad energy around you. The bad energy may be actually needed for you to grow. Many people see demons as evil, but what if they're actually helping you to see yourself as you are? Can't they be considered instruments of justice?

So, instead of asking for change, why not do a ritual to appreciate what you have? Make your attention one of gratitude and glorification of your life, exactly as it is, with every good and bad happening you're going through. I wouldn't be surprised if it opens you up to a change you actually need.

Additional thoughts:

I want to clarify that I'm not opposed to people who practice magick with specific asks. If you feel that's what you need to do, then who's stopping you? I certainly hope my words don't! I used to ask for things all the time but realized that it was hindering my growth, hence why I stopped.

I know that some people need to ask for things to grow properly, and what I said may be met with a lot of frustration and anger. I understand if it makes some of you feel that way, and I'm sorry if it does. The whole point of me saying this is to share my experience in hopes that it'll resonate with some of you who read this.

If your magick isn't working, maybe it's worth trying to be less specific and performing a ritual to express appreciation!

[jadoue1999]

Kaleidoscope

Next parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22

Summary: Billy is proving to be a difficult prisoner; good thing she has just the trick to make him behave.

Chapter 2: Binding

Agatha decides to cut the chase right here and there and flicks her wrist in his direction. Restraints wrap around his wrists and ankles and he is lifted off the ground. Billy grunts in discomfort, clearly not ready for the sudden movement, but she finds it poetic. After all, Wanda had been in that very same position barely three years ago when she had tried to figure out who exactly she was. 

He glares at her, looking so much like his mother. “Let me go.”

She hums as she pretends to consider his request. “No.”

Fear flashes across his face for a split second before a mask of confidence hides everything else. “People are going to notice that I’m gone.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time a witch disappeared after seeking me,” she dismisses with a cruel grin. “It wouldn’t even be the hundredth time.”

Agatha delights in the way his body seizes in fear. She’s always loved the way her victims looked when they realized that there was no way out; when they realized just how hopeless the situation really is. Billy struggles against the restraints but despite how powerful he is, he doesn’t know how to wield it. Plus she’s just siphoned quite a bit of his magick so he must be drained as well. She simply watches him squirming like a worm on a string until he eventually gives up. 

“What are you going to do to me?” He asks, voice tired and resigned. 

She takes her time to let her eyes drag around the room, briefly looking at each of the dead witches on the floor. She knows he’s watching her every move and she loves it; the anticipation. 

“Oh I don’t know,” she hums, barely hiding her delight. She circles him, feeding off his anxiety and the uncertainty of the situation. “I could simply kill you and be done with it, or I could drain you until the very last drop.”

Billy gulps loudly, and she cackles.

“Think about it,” she whispers in his ear. “Your mother took every bit of power I worked for over the centuries, it only seems fair that her son gives it back to me.”

His terror is palpable, and she drinks every last bit of it. Clearly, the baby witch had no idea about the danger he was walking into. She had suspected that his fanboy attitude was a front, and while it might very well be, it’s clear that he had assumed that he’d be safe. 

“But then again, just draining you wouldn’t be any fun now would it? It wouldn’t equate to everything Wanda put me through.”

Teen is scared, yes, but there’s a layer of anger that she just wants to pry out of him. She’s always loved seeing so-called ‘pure hearted’ witches lean into their darker sides. Agatha glances at the spot concealing the door Billy created. She decides that some taunting is in order.

“Do you know how I guessed who you were?”

He glares down at her. “How?”

She waves her hand and the illusion dissolves, revealing the door he created. The room is bathed in blue and she delights in the confusion in his face. “Because of this.”

“The Road opened? But— but—”

“There was no chance that the Road could have opened because the Road doesn't exist.” Billy’s face is a mix of emotions as he tries to grapple with what she just revealed. She decides to add another layer to his confusion. “It opened because you were so desperate for it to be real.”

His brows are furrowed and his eyes look helpless as he looks at her. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, you see, when you Maximoffs want something desperately enough, reality bends to your will.”

The teen looks at the door with a mix of emotions that she can’t quite grasp. She loves to see him struggling to come to terms with the situation. 

“So gathering the coven, singing the sacred chant…”

She chuckles. “All a ruse to gather powers. It’s thanks to you, really.”

“Me?” He frowns, disgusted with the implication. Oh, she can’t wait to break whatever innocence he has left. 

She hooks two fingers under his chin and lifts his face. “You broke the spell keeping me trapped, you begged me to take you to the road and you helped me gather the coven. They’d all still be alive if it weren’t for you.” Tears fill his eyes and she grins. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

Billy doesn’t say anything and Agatha can see that he’s clearly overwhelmed with guilt. She knows he won’t react to her taunts until he has a moment to recover, so she decides to give him just that. She supposes that he’s safely contained for now so she leaves him be and goes back upstairs. Her broken front door is still lying against the wall so she decides to fix it with her magick, she doesn’t need people to come investigate now. Not with three bodies plus the son of the Scarlet Witch held captive in her basement. 

Agatha decides that she’s not going to kill Billy, not immediately anyway. She’s always loved power and powerful entities and it’s her chance to study him the way she had wanted to study Wanda before she got away. She won’t leave things up to chance this time, she has to prepare better. She doesn’t have the Darkhold anymore but she has other spellbooks and her own memory to rely on. She goes into her room to find something she can use for what she has in mind. The jewelry box Billy snooped through isn’t the only place where she’s stored jewelry and thankfully Wanda’s spell hasn’t affected any of them. Agatha goes through her bangles and metal cuffs that she bought at least 50 years ago. She finds one that she likes and holds it up to better observe it. The metal is heavy and cool to the touch, with vines and leaves embossed in the bronze. It’s perfect for what she has in mind.

She climbs back down the stairs and takes a few moments to admire her handiwork. The three witches lying dead on the ground, stripped of every bit of power they had as well as the teenager hovering over the ground with purple bindings clasped around his wrists and ankles. Curiously, he’s not really struggling, a little, sure, but he’s strangely subdued. Maybe the fear of the unknown has paralyzed him. She prefers when her victims are mouthy but she’ll have her fun either way; it wouldn’t be her first monologue. 

“Aw, don’t look so down,” she teases as she enters the basement. “We have a lot to do.”

His head snaps in her direction, distrust in his eyes. “We?”

She walks past him, straight to her work table, formerly her altar, without sparing him a glance. “Figure of speech. The Scarlet Witch and what she’s capable of is explained extensively in the Darkhold, but I’m afraid I wasn’t able to test just how true it was.” She creeps towards him, a grin splitting her face. “We’ll see if the same applies to her son.”

Terror fills him and even though he must know it’s useless, he still tries to back away from her. “I’m not going to be your guinea pig.”

She raises her eyebrows in amusement. “I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice here.”

His breath hitches and he truly starts to struggle. At first, she’s not worried, she knows the restraints will hold, like they held Wanda who was considerably more in control of her abilities. But soon Billy starts to collect himself and focus. The air around them starts vibrating, like it did earlier with the Salem Seven and she decides to stop it before he can free himself. With a swift hand gesture, she slams him against the wall, breaking his concentration. He cries out in pain and she sees how dazed he is. 

Good. 

A stunned witch is a contained witch.

Once Billy has gathered his wits, he turns to her, obviously shocked at what she just did. He’s got a split lip from the impact and his cheek is cut open, there might even be a light concussion too. She’s not too worried though, his magick should fix him right up. Magick is the lifeblood of a witch after all and he’s got plenty of it. 

Agatha smirks at his disbelief. “What? You think I’m just going to let you escape?”

“You better hope I don’t,” he grits through clenched teeth. 

“Oh, I’m so scared,” she mocks him. “You’d need to be able to control your powers to have a chance at beating me. But do feel free to blast me if you want, I could use some more powers.”

“You’re never getting a drop from me again,” he snaps. 

She shrugs. “I’ll find a way to make you.”

Agatha goes back to her work table to grab a tissue to wipe the blood from his face. Billy tries to move away but he doesn’t have much grip. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sure you know that you need either hair or blood from a person if you want to cast a spell on said person?”

He tries to flinch away but again, there’s not much he can do. She walks back to her altar and attempts to recall the specific spell she has in mind. She had seen it a couple of times during her lifetime, it was a spell that bound a person to the caster. It didn’t hinder their magick per se, it simply prevented them from using their powers against them. She just has to tweak it a little so Billy is able to blast her, it’s a useless spell if she can’t drain his magick every once in a while. She rummages through some storage boxes to find some candles and string. Had she had her old basement, she would have used some vines but she can’t have everything, unfortunately. 

Agatha makes a circle with the lit candle and places the metal cuffs she has chosen earlier right in the middle. The bloodied tissue is placed over the jewelry and she takes a deep breath, clearing her mind as she recites the spell. 

‘In ferro te ad me ligo,’ she chants as she ties the string around the cuffs. 

She repeats herself as the string is wrapped around and over a few more times until it’s too short to do another loop. The cuffs don’t look any different, but she can feel the power radiating from them. The string is removed and the candles are blown out. She picks up the bracelets and turns to Billy with a triumphant smile.

“Agatha, Agatha please don’t,” he immediately starts begging. He has to know that it’s futile.

She ignores him as she lifts his sleeves and clasps the jewelry around each of his wrists. The size is perfect, thanks to a little magick and she uses a magick lock so that no one but her can open or remove them. 

She waves her hand and the purple binds vanish. Billy falls to the ground and doesn’t waste a moment before inspecting the cuffs on his arms. He frantically tries to remove them and Agatha simply waits for him to tire himself out.

“What did you do?!” He cries out, clearly panicking.

“Relax, it’s not hurting you,” she explains. “It’s just making sure that you can’t escape me unless I let you go.”

Billy scoffs. “What?”

She points to the cuffs. “You’re not leaving this basement unless I want you to.”

“You can’t do this.”

“I just did,” Agatha chuckles. He looks at her, mouth open in disbelief. “Come on, you can’t be that surprised. There are plenty of stories about witches kidnapping children, didn’t you heed the warnings?”

***

Next time: Billy is not having a good time and a special guest joins the duo!

Tag list: @trampledore @hannah-0730 @fyregrl @lanfear-is-my-darkmistress @lover12345abcde @astronglywordeddm @tiredwitchmachine @lesbiifem @agathaallalongg

[shouldhavestayedawayfromhere]

Fictional writing in witchcraft

Disclaimer, uhh mentions of nsfw witchcraft topics...no explicit descriptions... just talk about smut, I guess? Don't like don't read :)

If you happen to be a witch and also a writer, like me, this is your inspo post to use writing in your craft! Especially if you write fiction. No matter what kind. I'm going to name five ways you can use fictional writing in magick.

As a substitute for visualization. Writing can help spark our imagination. Imagination is a really important ingredient in any spell to gather the right kind of energy and get into the mindset of what you want to manifest. Instead of – or in addition to – visualization, you can use writing. Describe the dream you have. This could look like writing about yourself living in the place you want to live in one day, living the life you want to live one day, or owning whatever it is you'd like to own.

Character-insertion. Pick a character or OC that you deeply connect with. It's okay to use characters from shows, books, games, or irl people, as long as you can identify with them strongly and can put yourself into their position. Whatever you want to attract into your life, write about the character doing it, having it, experiencing it. Maybe you want to attract a certain type of person into your life? Let your character meet a person like that. Let them explore their relationship. You can write them being best friends, family, familiars, romantic partners, partners in crime, honestly, anything you can come up with.

Smut. Sexual energy is a great catalyst for spells. It doesn't have to be self-inserted, either. What the spell does in the end really comes down to what works best for you. Personally, I've used this in spells to control and influence people, since control and power dynamics are things that fit well into smut and you can get very creative with that. But this could also be used to attract a person, deepen connection with a partner, influence others or to explore your relationship with the entities you work with.

As an offering. A lot of deities appreciate creative offerings. Sometimes even more than bought ones, since you put a lot of thought and effort into them. So fictional writing can be a great offering. You can offer it to deities associated with creativity and art. But you can also write romance for a love-deity, action or thriller for darker associated deities or even come up with stories about them. Remember that humans came up with the myths and no one is stopping you from creating your own in devotion to them.

Angst. Nothing quite like cursing your nemesis by writing them into the most horrendous, terrifying scenario you can think of. The writing basically substitutes for a puppet (also knows as a voodoo doll) that you symbolically harm. For some people, like me, writing about what you want to happen to someone and describing their every reaction, how they squirm and cry and writhe in pain, can not only boost your energy for a powerful curse, but also give you a way to release the pent up anger towards them.

The nice thing about writing is that you can return to your story, re-read it or work over it for future workings or to repeat the spell. There are no limits set for writing and your imagination, everything is allowed. I'd love to know how other people use their writing skills in their craft. Feel free to share your own ideas!

[paper-beats-writers-block]

Having very many thoughts about Simon Snow today. Tl;dr only some of Simon’s magic was his but altogether it was too much for him to hold by himself: an essay. (Things we as a fandom know about his magic but I just wanted to write it all out comprehensively)

The main reason I think Simon was so bad at magic was because he couldn’t let go of it little by little. We know from the rest of the series that spells use up magic, and it takes the caster a little while to recharge from big spells or lots of spells. And it would make sense that the only way Simon could really let go of his magic was going off. I don’t think he was conscious of it, but he was more focused on holding everything in and not going off, which made casting his spells harder, and it makes sense why his successful spells were bigger. The closest metaphor I can think of is like a balloon without a knot will only release as much air as your own pinched fingers let it, and Simon was so scared to let the balloon go off (lose all the air at once and fly all over the room) that he didn’t even let a little of the air out, so it just built up and built up continually. Like in the beginning of the book when he casts “out, out damned spot” to get the blood off his pants and it doesn’t work (because he’s “rusty” and not letting enough of his magic go to make the spell work) but “into thin air” does—for the most part, but again it’s a successful spell that works bigger than he meant it to because it made the whole road disappear. But he’s also frustrated his first spells didn’t work and that anger probably let more air out of the balloon than he meant it to hence the road disappearing completely. 

Which is also why at the end of the book he can cast without words and make things happen (magickally fabricating his wings and tail, and making himself warmer midair on the flight to the Bunces’ from Baz’s).  He’s intentionally releasing so much magic into the atmosphere at once he doesn’t need the words. This is also why the magic sharing works so well with Baz, because all Simon is doing is letting the magic go. He’s not controlling it; Baz is. 

And the whole concept of the humdrum is brilliant. Because here’s this kid that has more magic than anyone, but only because he was conceived magickally and connected to the magickal atmosphere with a series of rituals and spells. Literally in chapter 58, the mage (the fuckwad may he rest in pain) gives us a line from his Greatest Mage research saying “a magician that draws his power from the centre of the earth”. And Simon does that. That’s why the Humdrum Holes appear. The weird magickal sex ritual or whatever the hell the Mage did (and Lucy participated in) on the autumnal equinox 1996 in the tower of the White Chapel (chapter 79) literally linked their fetus to the power and magic of the earth. And Lucy gives us a line “like there’s something inside of me, and it isn’t just eating me, it’s eating everything” (Chapter 84). And it did consume her. That’s why she died after giving birth. Because it ate her magic first (she mentions not having the energy to cast anything), and then it started to consume her humanity. But it wasn’t Simon (at least imo) it was the sucking hungriness inside of him that the ritual put there from the very beginning. The humdrum was a part of Simon until Simon was powerful enough to separate himself from it, aka, the first time he went off in the care home at eleven. There were small holes that were probably from tantrums he’d had over the years, but the grotty jeans and ratted tshirt with “that infernal red ball” impression that the humdrum is personified as in the book was what came of his Nothingness metasizing when Simon came into his power. 

Final thing (sorry this got long). Chapter 82 when Simon does the magic sharing with the humdrum and gives up all his power, he feels the same control over his power as he does when he shares with Baz, but only at the beginning. Once the river flows into the humdrum and he starts to fade, Simon notices the switch from his power flowing into the humdrum to the humdrum sucking his power out. And I think the magic that flowed was the excess power trapped inside him that he was drawing from the centre of the earth, whereas the magic being sucked and pulled out of him at the end was his own; the natural power that he would have been born with if he hadn’t been conceived with a ritualistic spell. Because he still would have had a TON of power because the mage and Lucy were both powerhouses as well. 

Man I wish someone could have explained all of this to Simon before shit hit the fan. Kiddo deserved better than that. (Fuck the mage)

Thanks for sticking with me this whole time :D 

[shroudandsands]

Prompt #28: Deleterious

Her hands cupped around the flame as the incense took to light. The smokey smell of cinnamon began to rise from it, then swirled through the tent as she let out a breath of her magicks. An effort promptly brought to disruption by the arrival of her most wonderful beloved.

The tent flap opened to a storm condensed entirely in the shape of the love of her life. Comforting petrichor and wingbeats replaced with unsaid curses and thunderous static across her scales and skin. A rage unspoken, caused by what she had yet to know, one so thoroughly filling her that it dispersed her carefully cast scent of smoke and serenity that Amesha couldn’t help but sigh. So she did. Loudly. “Hawk,” She sighed, again, turning with care that her tail didn’t knock the incense burner over. The day had already been busy enough- no need to add a fire. “What ails, what ills? Only a sun has gone in the moment of triumph and yet already she suffers from stormclouds…” She didn’t get much of an answer. At least not verbally- Swept up near immediately by Sawyer’s arms and pulled into a hug around her middle that left her legs dangling and her own arms wrapped around Sawyer’s neck. Being fully immersed in the flowing aura of her partner’s immediate discomfort and anger was enough to paint a picture, perhaps several, as waves and throes of something… It wasn’t anger, no, nor was it rage. She had felt the coming and goings of her love’s rage many a time. It was a specific roll of thunder, a particular taste of metal on the tongue, a half-remembered scent of lightning-burnt ground. This was not that. Amesha couldn’t quite put her finger on it as she was carried. Through the gentle cloud of smoke to their place of rest. A pile of bedroll and cot that suited her quite well for when she was collapsed and worthless after a week spent in complete and utter focus. Not quite as helpful in the current moment, no, as Sawyer was forced to awkwardly lower herself and Amesha to the ground until she was able to readjust and pull her close once again. The raen’s tail settled between Sawyer’s legs as the hyur’s arms wrapped around Amesha’s middle once more. Pulled tight, held there, and the face of her love pressed into Amesha’s hair. A long and deep breath.

“…It’s nothing, heartlight-” The noise that left Amesha was just short of cursing her. “Okay, it isn’t nothing,” Sawyer course corrected. “But it isn’t something you should have to worry over. You’ve already been doing far and above what anyone else here has individually and I won’t-” Another noise. Another pause in Sawyer’s frustrations. Now she sighed. “I was working out preliminary reporting for the few heading back tonight. A summary of discoveries, any casualties, and how the outlook is from here. You’ve heard me speak on this a few too many times…” Her voice trailed off as she squeezed Amesha tighter for a moment. Another breath in of her hair. “While the beginning of this… quarantine and elimination was not exactly what I would call standard procedure, all involved were unharmed and capable of maintaining the situation until the second and third group of parties arrived.”

Amesha’s wing flew in low with a bottle balanced precariously on the edge of its crystal feathers. She gently plucked it free as her partner continued to speak- something roundabout that, while likely frustrating, did not much bother Amesha herself- and uncorked it. The stopper set aside, then, and the bottle placed next to it as the scent of lavender slowly filtered its way through the continued emanations of her partner’s aura. Enough to cut through it at this concentration. To disrupt the energy that so weighed heavy on her Hawk and caused her to fly with only intent to drag talons through whatever it was that ailed her. But restrained, as of this moment, and instead replaced with an intent to press herself forcefully in branch and bough as substitute. “…Heartlight…” Sawyer’s voice broke through her thoughts, her tone a restrained sense of exasperation. “…Is it that bad? I’m not being that insufferable, am I? Having to break out the incense and oils as if I’m having a bad day…” “The Hawk bears storm on steel wings. The brunt of it, the worst of it, and all the worse…” Amesha squirmed so that she could turn herself around and push herself up in Sawyer’s arms, far enough to pull her face into her chest. Her arms wrapped around her love’s head to keep her there. She pressed a kiss to the top of Sawyer’s head. “All the worse is that she can not lash out against ones who so desperately need it, mmn?” The silence was more than enough. Even more so as it was accompanied by the parting of stormclouds, of the gentle embrace of a warm summer rain’s touch against her skin. A small smile took to Amesha’s lips as she squeezed her partner closer, as she felt her slowly release the tension in her shoulders and her back.

“…You weren’t listening when I was saying what happened, were you?” Sawyer sighed, an exhale of a laugh against her chest. “The Oasis does not need to hear to know. Nor does the Hawk want the light of her heart to suffer selfsame frustration, no? Where the Hawk might have learned restraint, might have learned to keep talons away; the river which she so often lays beside has woken to the joy of putting the irreverent in place. To be buried and drowned by waves-” Another squeezing hug from Sawyer cut her off. “Point taken, heartlight. Point taken.”

[bitter-bats-cult-of-the-moon]

Negative Energies and Attachments

People forget that energy is everything. It's the currency of life. Many of our workings and every day lives revolve around clearing out our own energy fields. We must do this in order to properly function and the most common type for all people is working through emotional trauma. We must also not forget to safeguard our family and homes. Of course, remember to analyze things first thinking of possible mundane solutions before diving into metaphysical explanations. The focus should be about ourselves first. You must help yourself and remember to regularly think about these main things whenever it comes to your energies and sacred spaces.

Attachments and Psychic Attacks can come from many different things including spirits, negative entities, negative thought forms, or projected intentions. This can all lead to imbalances and cause problems for your physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being.

Key factors to look out for when dealing with negative situations include:

The Physical consisting of unexplained pain, scratches, bruises, body marks, feeling tired, and lethargy.

The Emotional consisting of unexplained extreme emotions or waves of depression, anger or fear.

The Mental consisting of destructive thoughts or impulses, poor concentration, external thoughts not belonging to your own, insomnia, and panic attacks.

The Spiritual consisting of negative dreams, inability to shift feelings of not being alone, feeling blocked or stagnant energies.

If these things are not acknowledged or properly taken care of you will begin to feel the side effects even more so where your own auric fields and protective shields are weakened by the negative energies. As a result, you will not be feeling like yourself and take damages.

Finding Your Stillness

It's encouraged to be aware of your own internal and external environments. Any form of self-care that promotes grounded mindfulness is ideal. This means that you as an individual should take time to yourself in order to properly center and ground. Meditation or binaural beats is the most common remedy for this however any way to achieve relaxation and peace of mind is highly suggested here.

Psychic Attacks

People carry huge emotions and at times negative energy can subconsciously manifest or be consciously harnessed. When emotions are manipulated or directed by malicious intent this can cause psychic attacks.

Spirits may also be tied or stuck to certain lands and objects that can influence us causing another variation of a psychic attack. Think of it like this. Are you renovating a new home or being disrespectful on sacred lands? What about buying antiques or secondhand goods? This will stir up any energies including old spirits that are linked to these places in question.

Maybe you're feeling off from your usual self with little to no reason or having bad dreams.

One of the most important aspects in this is trying not to retaliate. Fighting whatever the attack may be is not always the best course of action to take. What I mean with this is that fighting back or even gossiping about it means that you are accepting the attack and engaging in a trap of agreement. It's basically putting yourself further into a negative situation, and there can be consequences depending on the circumstances. Many need to remember that when it comes to casting magick and directing our energies we should always strive for the best possible outcome for any and all involved.

If you feel like you are experiencing psychic attack, then the best thing you can do for yourself is to calm down and try to seek out positivity. Healthy ways to solve the problem is to rise above the situation and this can be accomplished by visualizing prayers or performing a healthy ritual that involves self-care. With time and practice this will strengthen your own energetic boundaries and eventually the projections will no longer bother you as an individual.

If you wish to further utilize magickal protections, then there are a few different ways in order to achieve this.

Stones I typically recommend for personal protection include black tourmaline, black obsidian, and black kyanite. Energy cleansing works well here too, and cord cutting between yourself and any individual that you may have had a toxic situation with.

As long as you are mindful one may also try to perform visualization methods, spells, or rituals to Return to Sender. A very simple way to visualize this is to think of yourself gathering up the trash and taking it outside away from you and your home or to be a bit more literal taking a broom and sweeping away all the negative energies that surround you and your environment.

Another method is to try and create or use protection sigils, engraved candles, or written petitions. It's entirely up to you as an individual and whatever you think will help is the best possible choice for you. The more faith and confidence you have in something the better the results typically will be.

Attachments

Whenever an entity, spirit, or hyper dimensional being tries to latch onto us that is an attachment. Often these attachments are described as demonic, but that is not always the case. Not every spirit or entity is demonic. Don't let the word demonic scare you.

Transmission can occur whenever there are tears or holes in our auric fields and sometimes attachments can come from another person after crossing paths with each other.

These spirits are generally parasitic, and they come to feed off our energies after forming an attachment. This may cause unexplained aches and pains, fevers, feeling drained, or finding instability within our own emotions. Attachments can also manipulate our feelings and thoughts.

Unfortunately, attachments will stay with you until they are properly removed.

Cord cutting is highly recommended in order to sever the connection and establish your boundaries.

Scanning your energies and keeping in check with your physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health is the key to success.

Actively feeding your needs and your shields is the solution we are looking for here.

Overall, protection from psychic attacks and attachments comes from being empowered within ourselves.

Keep in mind that entity removal one time does not make you immune to future attachments either because every situation will be different. This is why it's important to find stillness in your mind and your soul, and to know your own shadows. If you know your shadows and are actively working through them, then they are no longer your weaknesses. You will be better prepared for any situations where they may be used against you.

[thescorpionmonarch]

Astro forecast

Mars entered Scorpio. Mars is one of Scorpio's rulers (the other is pluto, Mars is traditional, Scorpio is Modern).

Sex magick for money, making kids, protecting and strengthening your relationship, getting resources including working the government to your favor, and using it for self defense or protection magick (including return to sender) is strong at this time.

Kundalini energy is strong.

(Trigger warning, SA implied)

Keep your sexual health clean. Enthusiastic consent is consent and needed from both parties at all times. If it's approaching harassment or too aggressive or someone isn't listening (idc if they say "the passion overwhelmed me"), it's time to put a hard stop, defend yourself, or leave.

This includes watching veering into hypersexuality

(Trigger warning, Physical abuse, Assault, and emotional abuse).

Watch for verbally aggressive people just using the aggression to manipulate you or getting to the point of physical violence. Watch your own anger.

Revenge energy is high. People crave justice. Some will get it. Some don't deserve it and think they do. Some want to go to far and think someone is guilty or worse than they are (someone feels unsatisfied that someone's karma is too light). Trust and believe that the universe knows what justice really is.

Topics of political war is more frequent during this period. National topics on people who committed big crimes are getting checked.

Don't abuse drugs (avoid hard drugs). Even if it is 🚬 🍃, take breaks every do often. Cut it in half or in third. Save money. Lower tolerance. Less is more.

Creativity is obsessive. Like hyperactivity/hypomania/mania around creating and completing project after project. Artwork after art work. Making many products. Watch for an over active sacral.

Some people have aggressive spiritual teams. Yeah, sketchy spirits, but also very defensive spirits. See the karma comment.

Dancing magick is up. Belly dancing is a good idea. Kundalini energy present.

Hyper active psychic abilities. Take care of your third eye and crown. Gonna need to ground and wear a head scarf or do an head energy cleanse (moon water, blessed baths, smoke cleanse, youtube vids, Florida water, sound bowls, or bells all can help). Pamper your hair with a mix of oils. Make your own oil blend for your head or your own serum.

Amethyst is great. Watch for citrine and tigers eye. Hyperactivity implied even though they are excellent at manifesting confidence, money and luck).

Protect and nurture your mental health.

Extreme focus and "workaholic energy" is up. Please take breaks.

[foxykatie425]

Alright, time for me to give my thoughts on the results of this poll I put up last week. Long, drawn out, over-explained post ahead!

86.9% of voters think that Merrin would win if she and Cal had faced off in a 1v1 on Dathomir in JFO.

I am gonna go ahead and… disagree. HEAR ME OUT!

Y’all know I love my girl Merrin. She is wonderful and amazing and very very powerful.

But Cal is a JEDI!

I think because we see so much of them in Star Wars, we tend to forget just how powerful Jedi are. We’ve seen Jedi that are more powerful than Cal, but he’s still slicing through stormtroopers like butter!

Neither Merrin nor Cal is any kind of pushover, and it would for sure be very very close.

One thing to remember about Merrin is that while she is a very powerful Nightsister and implied to be above average for her age, she’s still very young, and was very young when her sisters died. Anything she’s learned since then she’s had to teach herself. (One could say the same about Cal, I suppose, but he at least now has Cere to help guide him.) When Malicos says to Merrin, “This power is beyond your control,” he says it with the intention of making her angry, which he does succeed at, but he also may not have been entirely wrong. Note that when Cal leaves Dathomir after making an alliance with Merrin, the undead Nightsisters are still attacking him on the way out.

(Side note: she doesn’t get to raise the dead in this hypothetical boss fight, that is no longer a 1v1! Plus, she already tried that and it didn’t work!)

Merrin, at least when we first meet her in JFO, has always struck me as someone who’s trying to present herself as something she’s not. She’s got something to prove: that she is capable of avenging her lost sisters. But she’s haunted by the fact that there was nothing she could do to save them, because she was, and is, so young. Malicos uses her insecurity about her lack of experience to gaslight her for his own selfish desires, and in her desperation to prove him wrong, her magick is unfocused and uncontrolled. And at the end of the day, despite her desire for revenge, she’s not a cold-blooded killer.

My point is that in terms of power and skill, Call and Merrin are probably pretty evenly matched.

Another thing to consider is timing. Admittedly now we’re getting into my own vision and maybe things would play out different if you put this fight earlier in the story, but if we’re to assume this boss fight with Merrin takes place in the same time frame as the Malicos boss fight, either in addition to or in place of it, we’ve got Cal at his strongest emotional point in the game. He has just made peace with everything that happened to him. Merrin, on the other hand, has just had everything she thought she believed in come crashing down around her. And if we’re at the point where she’s still attacking Cal, she’s not thinking straight. There is no legitimate reason left for her to be angry at Cal specifically, she’s just angry. She hasn’t cooled down from “You both shall learn!” And to be fair, from her perspective, if Malicos used her and lied to her, why should Cal be any different?

In this scenario, Merrin has got to be at a point of hopelessness. She may no longer be certain that the Jedi killed her people, but she feels like her anger and desire for revenge is all she has left, and she will get her revenge or die trying. And (possible trigger warning) now that she’s uncertain that her anger at the Jedi is justified, there probably is a part of her that almost hopes she dies trying. Because even if she did kill Cal, then what? Then she really has nothing left!

Why go after Cal instead of Malicos? Well for starters, that fight she definitely wouldn’t win, because the only way she and Cal were ever going to be able to defeat him was together. And I think rather than being afraid that Malicos would kill her, she’s more afraid that he wouldn’t kill her and that he would force her to continue serving his selfish desires. (Side note, there’s a possible headcanon in the subtext there that I really, really don’t wanna entertain… my poor girl has been through enough!)

I think in the end, a lack of focus and lack of confidence in her own motivation would be Merrin’s downfall. In a way, it’s somewhat reminiscent of Obi Wan vs Anakin. Anakin was more powerful than Obi Wan, but Obi Wan was more focused and more precise. Anakin’s lack of focus caused him to make a bad judgement call (ignoring the high ground) and Obi Wan quickly took advantage of it.

So let’s write some fanfiction real quick!

The way I see a fight between Cal and Merrin playing out at this point in JFO, they would be somewhat evenly matched, and at a moment when Merrin has the upper hand she would hesitate, because she’s unsure if she really does want this, unsure if she really should want this, and as stated before, she’s not a heartless murderer. Perhaps, even, seeing Cal at her mercy might remind her of herself as a child at the mercy of the monster who killed her family. (A Reva moment, if you will.)

Now one could argue whether or not Cal could’ve held her off at this moment had she not had this crisis of conscience, but regardless, she would hesitate just long enough for Cal to take the upper hand and checkmate her. But he wouldn’t kill her. He doesn’t want to kill her. He knows how misguided her anger is, and even if he can’t get through to her, he doesn’t believe she deserves to die. The victory condition for Cal is simply to get the Astrium and escape with his life. Perhaps he might have killed her to reach that goal if he had to, but it would’ve been a hollow victory.

In this moment, pinned beneath Cal’s saber, Merrin reverts back to the little girl she was on the day of the massacre. She is scared, and not ready to die, but she no longer has the strength or will to fight back.

Everything freezes for a moment, and then Cal slowly lowers his lightsaber. She opens her eyes and looks into his as he turns the blade off and steps back. He walks past her into the tomb, leaving her alone, in shock as she thinks about everything that just happened.

So I think there are a few reasons this didn’t actually happen in the game. First of all, a Merrin boss fight followed almost immediately by a Malicos boss fight would’ve been too much. But more importantly, for it to have an emotional impact would’ve required more character development for Merrin earlier in the game that there just wasn’t time for because at the end of the day, JFO is Cal’s story, not Merrin’s. Cool as Merrin was in the first game, what really made her character interesting is the dynamic she forms with Cal, and to try to develop that dynamic earlier would’ve required more cutscenes at a point when the player is not yet invested enough in Cal as a character to really care that much, and all those cutscenes would do is interrupt the gameplay that people came for. I think if the story of JFO were being told in a different medium that didn’t rely so much on action, such a book or *cough cough* a stage production perhaps, this subplot would fit in a little better.

Okay fine, maybe this is all just my vision for what I’d want a Fallen Order musical to look like! I’m telling you, IT COULD WORK!! 😂

So to recap, I think Cal would win in a 1v1 with Merrin (at least in the first game), I think Merrin in the first game is more bark than bite, and I think underneath the hard exterior she’s a sweet broken baby bird and I wanna give her a hug! 🥺🫶

Besides, if we did actually have this boss fight, video game rules dictate that Cal would have to win eventually! 😉

[sororalice]

On The Blessedness Of Courage

A homily for the Full Moon on October 17, 2024.

Dearly Beloved,

Happy Full Moon!

In this witchiest of months, the movements of the Moon can resonate particularly deeply within us. Our lives can be caught up in the currents of birth, growth, death, and rebirth even more than usual. I know that in my own life, the currents of the magickal and the mundane have become so hopelessly entangled that it impossible to separate them. And while I am quite aware that this is a good thing on a spiritual level, it can also sometimes be very difficult on a personal level.

I’ve been going through an important rite of passage, and through it all I have often found myself frightened. No, let me be honest with you, let me always lead with my vulnerability with you, dear ones: I have been terrified. I have been forced, by the currents I myself set into motion, to either alter or abandon entire ways of being that I have cultivated and practiced most of my life. And throughout this time of change, of death and rebirth, there is one virtue that has helped me more than any other, and it is upon that virtue I am moved to speak today.

Let us speak of the virtue of courage.

Fear is inevitable. Fear is one of the great constants of existence and it can be a great boon to our basic survival. Fear is what tells us to walk faster when that strange man is behind us, fear is what tells us to put on the oven mitts before grabbing the hot dish fresh from the oven, and fear is one of the three primary emotions (the other two being anger and disgust) that tell us when something is just not okay. So in many ways fear is our friend. It gives us important information about the world and protects us from many dangers. Fear is a gift.

But fear can paralyze us.

As I have said, I wish to lead with my vulnerability with you, dear ones. I wish to always be as authentic and honest with you as possible. So I will confess, I have often let my life be ruled by fear. For many years, I have experienced great anxiety in social situations and when leaving the house. Every time I have to run an errand or even go live on camera in a Zoom meeting, my body pours sweat, my heartbeat races, and I want nothing more than to run away and hide. Fear is one of my oldest friends and worst enemies, both protecting and imprisoning me. There is a part of my mind that tells me that the world isn’t safe, and honestly, as a queer, transgender, disabled, neurodivergent woman in a modern USA filled with hate crimes and mass shootings, the world isn’t safe. My mind isn’t lying to me and my fears are not irrational. I can’t make myself leave the house by telling myself that I am being silly and that the world is safe, because it just isn’t.

So how do I leave the house? How do I make myself do all the things a modern priestess and occultist has to do to make her life work? How do I bring myself to pour out my heart and soul every week on this blog, even though I know that my earnestness is largely considered “cringe” in our culture and that most people are just going to laugh at me (or worse)? Hell, how do I get groceries?

In a word, courage.

Courage is what allows me to go to the grocery store. Courage is what allows me to go to the constant cycle of doctor’s appointments and trips to the pharmacy that is the life of a disabled person. Courage is what allowed me to transition and to walk in a hostile world as a transgender woman. Courage is just as much my constant friend as fear, and courage is what ends up rebutting most of the arguments my fearful mind throws up to stop me from doing the things I need to do.

But what, truly, is courage?

Many people think that courage is the absence of fear. They think that if one feels fear at all that one is a coward. But the philosopher Aristotle and many other people who have thought very hard about the issue since have generally agreed that courage is not the absence of fear at all. In fact, courage is defined (as are all virtues) as a mean between two extremes. Fear lays on a spectrum. On one end of the fear spectrum, we have cowardice, which is indulgence in fear to the point that it paralyzes you and prevents you from doing what you need to do. On the other end we have foolhardiness, which is ignoring fear to the degree that you ignore danger entirely, even to the point of actually seeking it out. Notice that both ends of this spectrum are an indulgence—it is tempting to go to either extreme—and that true courage is neither extreme, but a place of dialogue between them. We must seek and find the place that acknowledges and accounts for danger while also doing what we must to accomplish our missions in life. We have a right and responsibility to protect ourselves, but we must also be willing to take risks in order to do what must be done.

Now, how does the virtue of courage apply to my primary topic on this blog, the living of the spiritual life? Well, the spiritual life is scary. We are constantly being pushed past our old limits, constantly being asked by the Divine to change and grow beyond ourselves, and constantly being held responsible for both ourselves and our actions in the sight of both the Divine and our communities. We are asked to go down into the Underworld to die and be reborn, again and again, every year, every month, and every night. Yes, the Great Work, the ongoing theophoric relationship with the Divine that heals us and helps us grow, is the most important thing we can do with our lives…and it is terrifying.

So what can we do? How can we bring ourselves to challenge our fear and to live in courage, even when our world makes it very difficult? Well, as mages and mystics we have options that many people do not. We have our relationships with our deities and ally spirits and our relationship with the Divine as a whole. We also have our relationships with others in our spiritual communities, which can be so important both as a comfort and as a part of our growth. And, perhaps most importantly, we have our relationship with ourselves, the constant awareness of ourselves as embodied spiritual beings who must make choices that have meaning.

Yes, each and every one of these different types of relationship can bring us difficult moments. After all, we have to live up to all of those relationships and do right by all of those people, including ourselves. But those relationships are also at the heart of what motivates the spiritual life. We want to see and be seen, to know and to be known. It is this primal urge that brought our ancestors to reach out to the world around them, to reach out and discover the deities and spirits around us, and it is this same primal urge that we must trust to bring us through the fear, through our moments of death and rebirth, and finally take us to the other side.

It is also a blessing that we may join together and find courage, that we can hold each others hands in the dark. I take great refuge in my marriage, my spiritual community (that’s you, dear ones), and my relationships with my deities and ally spirits. It is thanks to these people (yes, deities and spirits are people, too) that I can find my way through the dark and back into the light.

So let us reach out to the Divine, dear siblings, to our deities and allies. Let us reach out to each other in love. Let us look out at that big, scary world and find within ourselves the strength to reach out, even when we are terrified. Let us have faith in ourselves and each other.

Let us have courage.

Happy Full Moon.

In love,

Soror Alice

Art: John Everett Millais, “Joan Of Arc”, (1865)

[arcane-abomination]

This is a recipe for blessing oil I make for my home wards. It can be used to bless candles, statues, witches balls, witches bells, or anything you put in your home that promotes protection magick and happiness.

Ingredients

Carrier Oil - to hold and mix all the intention of the other ingredients.

Salt - to purify stale and stagnant energies as well as add an extra layer of protection

Whole Cloves - to promote protection from the physical realm. This means break ins, negative thoughts and energies from horrible neighbors, trespassers, destruction of property, etc.

Lavender - to promote protection from the metaphysical realm. It calms angry spirits, banishes them, banishes negative energies they send your way, dispelles baneful work or other unwanted magick sent your way.

Crushed Orange Peels - These are present to bring in happiness, love, peace of mind, and good health, in place of fear, sadness, anger, and paranoia.

The Recipe & Ritual

I start off my telling each ingredient exactly what they will be doing. It’s very important to do this. Then I mix them into the carrier oil one by one. You can mix them altogether in a separate bowl first if you like and bless them that way. Also don’t be afraid to crush them into powder if you feel it will work better. I leave my cloves whole but my orange peels are very dry and brittle so I crush them into powder to better disperse them throughout the oil.

I place it all in a bowl or container and set it on a plate. I surround the container with uncooked white rice for a circle of pure clean energy that helps the energies in the oil to mix freely without the interference of outside energies coming in that I haven’t allowed.

Once that is finished I place the whole thing in the window sill and call on the dark moon to bless the mixture and add additional charge to the magick. Then I leave it there all night. The final step is the next morning where I drain the excess ingredients and place the oil in its respective jar and store it in a dry place.

[azems-familiar]

okay, you are flush with aus, so forgive me if this is already something you write, but give me an "emet lives" au.

this is definitely something i write into my regular canon stuff, actually, because Emet is one of my main muses and i ended up getting too attached and now he keeps surviving, but! it will be a while before we write how all of this goes down in our regular canon, so here's how it goes.

it's because of Elidibus that he survives. Emet flees to the rift with the last of his strength as he's dying, to spare Corrain and Lelesu from having to watch; Elidibus finds him and with Zodiark's power kind of gathers his shattering soul up and puts him into a mortal body. Emet has to repair his soul himself, but good thing soul magicks are his specialty then, huh. He ends up back with the Scions because after Elidibus falls on the First, Fandaniel takes the opportunity to try to assassinate Emet so he can put his "restart the Final Days and destroy everyone" plan into effect, and so it's alliance of necessity time.

Corrain, Lelesu, and G'raha have all been very much grieving him, and so when he shows up the rest of the Scions just kind of- have to accept that he's sticking around now. They put the tempering cure to work on him as soon as he's recovered enough for it, and he gets to have a horrible breakdown about the realization that he'd been planning to bring back the dead - something that goes entirely against who he was as a person and his seat. He still wants to Rejoin the star. he's exhausted and the last Unsundered and can now see clearly that in their efforts to continue to save the star they have been destroying it. he is forced to acknowledge that he cannot bring back the past, and so for the first time since the Sundering, he begins to properly grieve what he has lost, since he is now struck with the realization that it is going to Stay Lost.

He is, essentially, out of the action until the Ilsabard Contingent heads to Garlemald; by then he has recovered enough to change his face. He's never going to have quite the same power he did before (aka no phase 2 transformations anymore, sorry Emet), but he'll still be one of the most powerful mages in the world, considering. Fandaniel steals Corrain for the bodyswap, and Emet is utterly incandescent when Zenos shows up wearing his body - very much lashes out at both him and Fandaniel, injures Fandaniel, and the only reason he doesn't go after them both is that he's pushed himself too far as he's recovering and also that he ends up choosing to stay with Corrain to help the transition of his soul back into his body.

He knows what Fandaniel is planning the minute they get through the Tower of Babil/to the moon. But they get distracted by seeing Hyth and are too slow to prevent Fandaniel's suicide into Zodiark's pit, and that's the moment Emet knows he's lost. He's incredibly upset and angry about this, and spends some time performing last rites for the souls in Zodiark that get dissipated before he decides that he's Not letting the planet fall to the Final Days a second time, not after everything, and goes down to hold a meeting with as many heads of state as he can to help them prepare.

On Ultima Thule he's one of the people to sacrifice himself so that Corrain and Lelesu can keep moving forward. He's been dealing with a lot of really complicated emotions - the summary of what happened on Elpis, a lot of fresh anger at Venat/Hydaelyn, some incredibly mixed feelings now that Hydaelyn is gone, a whole lot of trying to figure out wtf he thinks and feels about the Sundered. The civilization they stumble upon in Ultima Thule that he helps build a path through is one that's dying out because they refuse to pass on their legacy to successors they considered unworthy. In their insistence that they find the right people who would leave their legacy unchanged, instead of honoring it and moving forward at the same time, their legacy ended up lost forever. Emet is forced to reckon with that and their own insistence that none but their people could steward Etheirys properly - one of the feelings that led to the attempt to resurrect the dead.

And a bonus sixth for you: after endwalker, he and the other ancient survivors (Hyth, Elidibus, and Lahabrea so far, but that might change) work together to found a "New Amaurot" in which they rebuild a small city to act as a place of learning akin to Sharlayan, where their history, culture, and knowledge can be passed down to the new generations. That the whole continent, not just the Warriors of Light, can remember that they once lived. And it is not what they lost, and can never be what they lost, but it begins the path of looking to the future, rather than the past.

[thecitywitchuk]

Curse Jar!!!

This is a curse jar casting. It’s used to surround your target with the desired energies of your choice to cause them pain & misery. It’s a vengeful spell & one that traps the target in a never ending cycle of chaos.

Items in these spells vary from casting to casting but here is an idea of what might be included in one of these casting:

Taglock - item that links the spell to the target

Broken bones - symbolising broken bones & breaking.

Glass - broken, shattered & of its glass from a mirror it’s seven years bad luck.

Black cat & dog hair - symbolising fighting between the sexes. Good for breaking up a relationship between a man & woman.

Graveyard dirt - death, decay & destruction.

Burnt out matches - burn out, exhaustion & sucks their energy.

Chilli peppers - irritation, hot headdress, anger & short temper.

Ash - emptiness, life in ruins, destruction & loss.

Wormwood - haunted by spirits, attracts bad energies & misfortune.

Broken wish bone - misfortune, bad luck & failed dreams.

Dog poo - life in the shitter, bad smells, health problems & infection.

Dead insects & bugs - pests, plague, spreading of disease & destruction. Health issues, madness & infestations.

Cloves - domination, control, manipulation & mastery.

Black mallow - Saturn energies, baneful magick, chaos & destruction

Sulfur - corrosive, poisonous, irritation & increases the power of the casting.

These are just some of the items you can include in such a working. Of course every item must be added with intention & focus. The whole spell must be chanted over several times & the last item you add is one of the following: vinegar, war water, storm water, death water or human pee!

You can also include sigils, magical oils, crystals & symbolic item’s if you choose. Seal the jar with black wax, add broken glass, nails & thorns to it. Burn a candle on top to charge it with power & then take it far away & throw it into a dog bin, sewer or bog. Left to rot it with fester in the targets life & continue to grow. If you want to be able to remove this, keep it in a dark location on your property such as the back of a shed or in a garage. You can undo this by smashing the jar to break it. Then cleanse the remains with smoke & salt. Say a curse removal chant while doing this to undo your work. Then put all the remains in to a bin far from your home.