sometimes spells just flop, and you want to redo them. but before you do that, you should nullify the first attempt, to prevent the first attempt creates conflicts with the second attempt of the spell.
⚫ TO NULLIFY ONE OF YOUR OWN SPELLS ⚫
WITH SPELL INGREDIENTS:
✴️️ gather the contents/ingredients of the spell you first cast it with
✴️️ separate the burnable and non-burning contents of the spell
salt the burnable ingredients lightly (such as paper, herbs, etc)
✴️️ burn the ingredients, and cover the non-burning pieces with the ash.
✴️️ rinse the non-burning pieces clean and cleanse them.
WITHOUT THE ORIGINAL INGREDIENTS:
✴️️ gather as many of the same spell components as you used to cast it
✴️️ perform the spell backwards, speak any chants used backwards.
however, sometimes it isn’t a spell you cast, and things can get a little trickier. how do you nullify a spell you didn’t cast?
⚫ A SPELL YOU BELIEVE HAS BEEN CAST ON YOU ⚫
gather a bowl of salt water and a black candle
place the candle in the center of the bowl
burn a hair of fingernail clipping of yours on the flame
let the flame burn down until it is extinguished by the water
12x10 rewatch: gosh, dean really hates how the “lily and her daughter” story went down in 1901. it probably reminds him of the fact that cas is not human and used to be a real “angel’s angel” back in the day (even if we know he’s always had a tendency to rebellion and compassion, but i dont think dean knows).
dean can’t even look at cas after he knows what happened with lily (well, the “official” story)
(poor sam, always in the middle)
and before that, cas was so afraid of what dean and sam would think of him (but mostly dean).
Salt is a go to ingredient that witches seem to use abundantly.
Salt and it’s historical uses
In Germany, Normandy, and Scotland salt was sprinkled around a butter churn to keep witches from souring the butter or hurting the cow whose milk was used to make the butter.
An Irish folk remedy called upon the use of salt as well as the reciting of the lords prayer to get cure ‘faerie-struck’ children. Similar to the way the Bavarian and Ukrainian people used to figure out if a child had been bewitched.
Egyptian Caravans that were preparing to cross the desert would perform a ritual that involved burning salt on hot coals in order to prevent evil spirits nothing the travelers as well as to ensure a safe passage.
Provided protection from witches, witchcraft, demons, and the evil eye.
Salt and it’s uses in Witchcraft
Salt in general is used in ritual purification, magickal protections, and blessings.
Some witches place salt in the four corners of the room before casting.
Used in purification spells.
Used to symbolize earth, one of the elements, on your altar or when you are casting. Sea salt may be used as the element water due to the fact that it came from the sea.
Used in the Witches Bottle
Can be used as an offering to the Gods.
Some people associate it with wealth, prosperity, and good luck.
Is an ingredient used often and abundantly in Kitchen Magick.
Creates a magickal, protective barrier.
Throw salt to ward off malevolent spirits and energies.
Repels many types of evil.
Absorbs psychic energies.
Place in your bath to cleanse and rid negativity. (Epsom Salt)
Salt and it’s superstitions
If someone spills the salt at dinner, it means a violent family quarrel is on the way.
It’s considered bad luck to lend salt to someone, because that can lead to a feud between the borrower and the lender. A good way to avoid this problem is if you get a cup of salt from someone, pay it back with sugar or molasses instead. Interestingly, in parts of northern England and Scotland it is also seen as bad luck to lend salt, mostly because the person borrowing it can use it as a magical link to curse you.
Salt can also be used to detect the presence of witches: in the Ozarks, it is believed that witches don’t eat much salt, so if someone complains about food being too salty, she might be regarded with suspicion. There is also a tale that bewitched cattle will not touch salt.
If you spill salt you must through it over your shoulder to bring you good luck and to keep evil at bay.
Types of salt and there properties
Himalayan Salt: Is commonly used for protection, especially around the home and against malevolent spirits. Also used to purify and to get rid of any negative energies. Used in spells to release from attachment. It has gentle, but strong grounding and centering energies. Brings prosperity and abundance into a home. Promotes love, happiness, and friendship.
Black Salt: Is used mainly for protection. Absorbs and contains any negativity. Can be used for hexing too. It drives away evil and protects your home and belongings. Use it to create boundaries with your enemies. Wardings, undoings, uncrossings, binding work, journeying to the afterlife, honoring the crone, and many other workings use black salt. Black salt can also be used to return curses and negative energies back to it’s caster. Working with the dark moon.
Sea Salt: Sacred to water deities and used often in Sea Witchcraft. Make herbal salt scrubs. Used to consecrate. Commonly used to make magick circles. Used for protection as well. Can be used in curses. It is associated with purity, protection, purification, and blessings.
What is the most common way you incorporate salt into your craft?
Unlucky Nine: A list of antis you may or may not have encountered in the vld fandom
Start Note: When I mention [Ship Name] Anti, it means a shipper of that ship who is also anti of another ship mentioned depending on the context as opposed to Anti-[Ship Name] which is someone who is an anti of the ship mentioned.
I. “Ship K/ance or Sha//ura or my ship instead” anti
These antis are just assholes. They insult other ships that contend to their own. These antis are prevalent in Sheith, Kallura and sometimes Shidge tags.
You get K/ance antis calling Sheith yaoi culture but then they totally change Keith and Lance’s character to fit the same trope. I was so pissed the other day because someone took Lance and just shoved Uke™ on him to fit an AU where he crushes on Keith.
You got K/ance & Sha//ura antis calling Kallura heteronormative but we aren’t the ones who’re forcing a mom troupe on her despite her not being really motherly. (Hunk is the mom friend but let us forget the fat character for aesthetics) You get them saying they love Allura but her story line, which focuses on her duty and willingness to sacrifice anything for it, is shoved for some romance. (Allura, although possibly having some romantic take to it, did not save Shiro because she had a fucking crush on him. She saved him because he needed saving and she viewed his role to Voltron as more important than hers.Stop acting like it is a canon romantic scene. No real scene in Voltron is really inherently romantic.)
You got K/ance shouting if Kallura happens, there won’t be any representation (m/m) but we still got Shiro, Lance and Hunk. Yes, we still got Shunk, Shance and Hance. if we go poly, there is Shunce. And if we dig deeper and you are willing, add Coran into the mix(I’m shoran trash undeniably).
You got them saying Shidge is wrong but the most official thing we got is actually the OFFICIAL Voltron site (whose content probably was made known to the entire crew and was advertised to the general public) saying ‘5 teens.’ But let us dwell on a half-baked video where a person throws numbers into some of the crew’s mouths. Let us not dwell on how Allura has no one bit of an age meter. For all we know, she could be a centuries old Alien. But sure why not, dwell on Shidge.
They put their ships on high pedestals to trample on other ships but you are probably a hateful bitch when you call them out on their shit.
II. “Shiro is spacedad” anti (bonus points for Allura as space mom)
These antis believe Shiro is a grandpa. They seem him as a father figure which would have been okay because let us admit that at some point the space dad joke were funny UNTIL PEOPLE TOOK THEM SERIOUSLY. Unlike the typical fan who laugh at the jab, these people take things to far and actually think it is canon. Shiro is actually a dad. “How dare you hc Shiro as a young and vulnerable character instead of my perfect space dad™?” All that crap.
But if you remember Prisoner Shiro, Kerberos Shiro, he looks pretty young. If you change back his hair before the frosty tips, remove the scar and the buff bara bod (he probably got from fighting in the ring), you wouldn’t find him looking wise beyond his years.
Coupled with Canon™ Space Mom Allura, it just pisses me off. Allura is enigmatic, a bit impulsive but her impulses are mostly practical, not afraid to jump into action, a bit bossy and domineering at times, yes, but deep down inside Allura is just a princess who wants her life back, who wants to live in peace with pretty things like her Altean flowers, who wants to go shopping for sparkly things, and maybe experiment with cute hairstyles.
This is why it kinda pisses me off. The idea was cute. Heck, I made an entire Sha//ura au once with my friend with the whole vld family thing but when they just pushed for it on discourse and acted like it was some holy canon grail, I was just really seven levels of salt.
III. “Pidge is like 4 months old” anti
These antis just infatalize Pidge. “Pidge is a kid. She can’t make romance decision. Pidge is practically a baby. How dare u” and all that shit. But it is totally fine for someone you see as a ‘kid’ to be flying an alien warship and engaging in an intergalactic war? Same goes for those who infantalize other Paladins. The logic is flawed enough but something else really pissed me off in this one.
My main concern with this is that the blatant forcefulness that Pidge is young because she has all the stereotypical looks of younger people. It undermines short girls who never grow up to be tall and developed upfront. Some people never get hit with puberty right. I was thirteen and 5′1 and now I’m nineteen and guess what? 5′1.5. Where is the justice puberty? You didn’t hit me up. You just poked me with a stick once and left.
And just the other day, guess what? I was again assumed to be like fourteen, especially since I was standing right next to my tree of a younger brother who is like sixteen. I probably would be rich right now if i had a dollar for every single person who thought I was fourteen. Pidge may look young by stereotypical standards, sure. But that doesn’t mean she is. She could just be a short 19 year old.
The concept of child-coded is bullshit. I mean look, I look, by stereotypical anti standard, like a fourteen year old therefore when tall people my age or older (who coincidentally also fit the stereotypical adult look standard) theoretically like me, we are perpetuating pedophilia. If we start dating, since they are adult-coded and I’m child-coded, it’s almost as if it is already pedophilia.
If anything, the infantalization of Pidge showed me that people, yes I repeat, people will continue to be misogynistic to women who do not fit the stereotype of what a woman should be. I mean, when did height and cupsize amount to a woman’s age and maturity as a person? It just says you have to fit this shitty standard to be something and to be recognized and that is fucking bullshit.
Oh well, to the antis, I guess I’ll be a minor forever. And to end this segment with another one of your fave defenses, “I”M MINOR-CODED AND CHILD-CODED SO YOU CAN’T ATTACK ME UWU”
IV. “Shiro’s trauma is an issue” anti
This is by far the one of the things I’ve seen. These people say that because Shiro experienced some traumatizing shit, he is not eligible for a relationship with any of the Paladins. It basically says that because Shiro has ptsd, he can’t date anyone who is potentially(meaning they see this character as young or immature and they aren’t actually as such) less mature™ or younger than he is. It basically says that since Shiro has ptsd, he must be toxic by default. It thrives upon the logic that anyone with mental health issues is gonna be toxic in relationships. (except Sha//ura cuz apparently Shiro who they call toxic in all other relationships isn’t toxic there)
V. “go fucking kill yourself” anti
No explanations needed. Assholes with no regard for human life. Suicide baiting, Gas lighting, you name it. Best thing to do is just block these. No arguing with them.
VI. “I’m a minor/survivor/minority group so I am allowed to be an asshole to anyone” anti
These are the people who go and attack others but when you call them out on their shit, they go like “but we are a minor/survivor/part of a minority.”
I’m only gonna say this once so listen well. (Who am I kidding? I’ve stressed this so much.) Being a minor/survivor/minority does not excuse you from being an asshole. You can experience terrible things and be like fourteen but you can still be an asshole. It does not give you a free pass to ruin other people’s lives. Get that inside your head. Someone can be depressed and still be an asshole. Someone can be autistic and still be an asshole. Someone can be gay and still be an asshole. Someone can be part of a general minority group and still be an asshole. Their status as a minor/minority/survivor DOES NOT make them an asshole but this specific person, who coincidentally fits in a certain group, is just an asshole. Their status is merely circumstantial and not the root of their being an asshole therefor it must not be used as an excuse for them to be one.
VII. “Shaladin is okay except for Shidge ft. Ship Sh/att instead” anti
I’m like WHY? These antis act like they are allies and they are good™ but they throw Shidge under the bus and vilify it to somehow make other shaladin ships appeal to the anti standards. You draw the line in Shidge? Well, I draw the line in vilifying ships to put yours on a pedestal. I would’ve understood if it was just basic ‘I don’t like Shidge’ but no, it has to rhyme with the anti logic of infantalizing her and all those things.
And don’t let me get started on Sh/att. Cuz it just shattered all the hope of me getting into this ship. This was good, old friends trope, I couldn’t save you trope. You name it. It has all the layers of angst that normally i would dive into. But the shippers use the same rhetoric shaladin antis use on Shidge. “It’s shidge but gay” Do you know how misogynistic you sound? And how dare you think I ship my ship because ‘aesthetics uwu’.
The idea of throwing Shidge out to appeal to the antis like some sacrificial lamb is just anti rhetoric itself. “It’s okay if one ships takes the fall for us.” It’s just pointing fingers at someone, in this case some ship. And honestly, that sucks.
VIII. “I’m gonna misuse social justice to call you all these names and not appreciate social justice when it is working against me” anti
These antis are those who try to shit on ships by appealing to twisted social justice but the moment actual social justice works against them, they try to ignore it and you just know, it was never a social issue to begin with.
A perfect example of this are the “Bi Lance for K/ance” antis. They shout and tell the world,”we got Bi Lance, we got a bi character in our ship. Whoop Whoop representation” but moment someone goes “oh nice, I ship Lance with Allura/Pidge/Nyma/Plaxum/any girl in existence.” They jump at you and call you cis het scum or whatever. But Lance is Bi right? Don’t Bi people like umm girls too???? Yes??? Do you know what a bi is?????
You see, they actually don’t care about bi representational at all unless it is used to put their ships up. And don’t get me started on the hate for ‘Bi Keith.’ I know the idea of Gay Keith is a fan fave but Bi Keith is a possibility. Like Bi Lance is everything to the universe but you are suddenly Zarkon if you as much think about Bi Keith. You love bi representation so much don’t you?
Oh and the antis who go like “we are protecting survivors and minors” just as they attack survivors and minors. Good job on the protecting.
Everything these antis do is just plain crap. When you untangle their twisted social justice and see the ulterior motives, you see their actions for what they are, personal vendettas against shippers, attacks so that whatever shitty ship they have gets to trample on other ships.
IX. “fiction is reality” anti
These are just antis who thrive on the idea that fictitious content is actually reality and therefore every dark-themed content is evil.
Tell me why I’m not marking Priests with hot iron stamps fresh from flames and killing them? I read Angels and Demons. Tell me why I’m not suddenly killing humans and eating them? I watched Hannibal. Tell me how I haven’t butchered the person I like? I watched School Days + Higurashi and I was like thirteen, a minor yes, at the time. Tell me how I’m not suddenly taking people in strange boats and making them go through hell, I was eight, a fucking kid, I watched Jigoku Shoujo (Hell Girl). They are unanswerable because fiction is in fact not reality.
The idea that fiction is reality is just the same as how way back four or so years ago, there was a backlash in gaming like with fighting and guns because it supposedly perpetuates violence and supposedly hypnotizes people. And you know how stupid that idea is? That is how stupid the idea that ‘fiction’ is reality’ in fandom is.
And if you actually do think fiction is reality, I suggest you seek medical help.
End Note: Antis may appeal to other forms of attacks or a mix of these but you guys stay strong and safe.
There is a door in the history department. It never looks the same twice and is always cracked open when it’s actually there. No one has ever returned through it.
There once was a chemistry major that went through the door. Their friend followed after.
One did not.
The story did not begin there though. It began long, long ago, in the tales and songs of ancestors long gone; passed from mother to daughter and father to son. They did not fade through time, starting anew in each beating heart of the family line.
They reached a young girl with olive skin and hair like raven’s wings. Her dark eyes would shine as her grandmother wove the tales by the fireside.
She spoke to the girl of a woman with fiery hair and burning eyes, who spoke with flames and held infernos between her palms. Perhaps that sparked the love in her for all things she should not, and she strove to make the embers dance, like the one with fire in her hands.
Her grandmother knew in her old, wise bones that this child needed the tales more than most. Their family had always been aware, trusting their intuition had never led them wrong.
So when the girl came to Elsewhere, (For where else could she have gone?) Everyone steered clear (The school gave up on roommates before very long.)
Perhaps it was because of her reputation of playing with fire, or perhaps it was simply fate, but her chemistry professor paired her with a boy who loved to play with ice. They became unlikely friends, she with her burning salts and he with his liquid nitrogen.
“Call me Pyrra.” she said.
“Frozone.” He grinned, white teeth gleamed against his dark skin.
He told her of his girlfriend back in Louisiana who was pregnant with his child: “It’s too soon to know the gender yet.” And she would just smile.
She told him of her grandparents and their small, simple home that stood alone on the reservation and of the wild horses that would thunder by.
They knew what everyone would say, how unwise it was to share so much about themselves, but they were chemistry majors—those rarely got taken.
The two were closer then blood and they both forgot one very important fact— being Taken isn’t the only way to Vanish.
It had been an accident. Frozone hadn’t been paying attention. He had forgotten to count the doors, as he stumbled to his history class after a long night in the labs. No one probably would have known if a fellow student hadn’t seen him stepping through the door—too late to stop his fate.
Pyrra was the first one told, the RA’s decided to wait till the end of the term before notifying his family. They knew it was a futile hope, but anything beat having to make that call.
Pyrra wouldn’t accept this though. She gathered up her craft, and armed herself with salts to burn. She dressed herself in her tribe’s garments and war paint on her face—there is power in being claimed—and set off for the history building when the moonless night was at its darkest.
The door gave way before her and she crossed into when; not where, her friend had gone. She travelled far until she found where the Little People were gathered round. They vanished as she drew near, but she was unshaken by this or fear.
“I have come to bargain for my brother of heart.”
“What will you give?” They whispered in reply.
“A story like none other.” She called bravely into the night.
“There is no story to match his fate, for his return we will need something great.”
Pyrra paused before standing straight.
“Then I will take his place.”
“Is this your choice?”
She thought of her grandparents, sitting at home, they had only gotten electricity a few years ago.
She thought of Frozone’s sisters, all so young and alone thriving off their brother’s hope to give them a better home, on the income of the degree the scholarship would to them all. She thought about his girlfriend, who worked two jobs by day, and attended a community college to get her art degree by night. With that her mind was made.
Frozone stumbled in, lost and confused as if it had only been an hour instead of a day. He caught onto what had happened more than quick enough.
“Pyrra, you can’t do this! Please! It’s my mistake to pay.”
“Call my grandmother and ask for my name, give it to your daughter and your debt shall be paid.”
That was all the time they had, before he was gone and she had stayed. The Little Folk drew near her now; intent on Their new pet, but she held up her hand, she wasn’t Theirs quite yet.
“I have another bargain to make.”
“What now?” They grumbled, discontent and bored.
“My story for my freedom, I chose to stay, but not to be yours.”
“Fine.” they hissed “But the bargain is this: you must keep us entertained till dawn or to us you will belong.”
What choice was there left for her to make? The sky was at it darkest—the hour before dawn. But how that hour stretched on and on!
She dared not tell her family’s tales, or sing to Them their songs, so she told them what she had, her science close at hand.
She told them how a star was born and how precious gems became; all the while between her hands she wove the tales with flame.
When that never nearing dawn finally broke upon the sky, They praised her skills, and kept their deals; blessing her all the while.
Fire-tongue they called her; Flame-speaker, They would say. They kissed her eyes and painted her lips, dressing her in flame.
She smiled and simply said, “That is not my name.”
For she had a new name now, one that no one could ever Take, now that she had given her old name away.
Frozone made it back and tried to keep his word. He called her grandmother who patiently greeted him and told him Pyrra’s name, only requesting that in return he send her things and bring his daughter by some day. She waved him off when he explained that the baby was still too small to tell, whether it was female or male.
Years passed and soon it was time to graduate. Everyone assumed that Pyrra’s grandparents came for Frozone. No one expected Pyrra to appear and collect her diploma as if she had been there all along. Then again, no one mentioned how her eyes were embers now or how her hair had turned from raven black to crimson—so she very well may have been.
A few decades later a new student comes—a chemistry major that loves to play with fire. She wears a white smile; which is near blinding against her dark skin. She claims she came to prove that her father paid his debt. She won’t say anymore than that. But sometimes she would leave the dorm shortly before dawn on moonless nights with a string of fireworks in her hands. She would always return the next morning, humming ancient songs as she wrote an email to her father.
During her time a new tale whispers its way into campus lore.
It’s breathed into the ears of distraught students—those with the courage to try and reclaim the Taken Ones are the only ones to hear the advice.
“Come to the edge of the woods on a moonless night, just before dawn and set off fireworks of every color—then wait.”
The ones who listen return with tales about a woman in smoldering garments, blazing red hair, and glowing embers for eyes who would test their resolve. To those who passed she would gift them with words or song, depending on their need, she might even gift them with her fire.
Regardless of what you get, it is always enough to get them back.
Except no one can remember what it was she gave them. They could never remember the tale itself, just that she gave them one; the songs she granted would dance just beyond memory’s grasp; the image of a mesmerizing flame leaving a ghostly impression inside their eyelids. There was only one thing anyone remembers her saying.
“My name is Story—”
There is a door in the history department. It never looks the same twice and is always cracked open when it is there. No one has ever returned through it.
There once was a chemistry major that went through the door. His friend followed after.
She did not.
“—and I create myself.”
A/N: I know the Gentry come off a little strange in this. It’s mostly because Pyrra is Navajo and thus the stories she knows are of the Little People; but at Elsewhere, the Gentry are for the most part from Great Britain, Ireland and thereabouts. I tried to blend these two cultures. I’m not gunna lie, I didn’t do great. I haven’t done much with Navajo mythology in a long while. I feel it came off pretty shoddy in this. I’m not trying to offend (I’m part native American myself). Also, I love Chemistry but I suck at it which is why I didn’t go as into depth as I would have liked. (My grammar sucks too, so apologies there as well.)
Well a few days later it’s complete. A three page au comic in which Reaver is an immortal shit lord and he and Page are equally tired of one another but neither has succeeded in destroying the other yet.
In all honesty this was just to try out medibang and see what I could do with it.
Characters: Y/N (reader), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Amara (mentioned), Charlie Bradbury (mentioned), Charlie (OMC), Castiel (mentioned)
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: fear of loss, abandonment, pregnancy - I don’t know SPNish stuff.
Word Count: 3000ish
A/N: This is 1 out of my 13 entries for @mamapeterson / @mrs-squirrel-chester’s Album Fanfiction Challenge where I chose the album “Smoke and Mirrors” by Imagine Dragons. The song prompt for this fic is: The Fall
Frozen. Everything around you was completely still, and you saw nothing but the man standing in the doorway to your bedroom. The world around you stopped. The smell of death and blood hanging in the air wasn’t apparent to you any longer. You didn’t feel the cold night air biting your skin. You barely heard the voice roaring through the room asking if you were okay, if you were all okay.
A sharp cry sounded through the house, and you snapped back to reality. You broke away from his gaze, sprinting through the room past the tall brown haired man in the doorway. Sam. The man that had been like a brother to you. The man you had confided everything in, everything except the thing that had mattered the most. You ran down the hallway with his voice ringing after you, insuring you your son was okay. You knew that Sam had checked on him before coming to see you. Of course you knew that, but you still had to see him with your own eyes. You had almost lost your heart tonight, what was left of it anyway. It was held by your son, Charles Dean Y/L/N. Charlie for short. Named after your late best friend and his father.
The man you had never thought you’d see again stood in the doorway when you turned around with your son in your arms. You knew he was coming, but seeing him stand merely feet away from you still made your heart leap out of your chest. You had no idea what to do or say. This was your decision, and now you were going to have to face the consequences of it. His eyes weren’t on you. They were fixated on the baby in your arms. This had not been the way it was suppose to happen. This was not the way you had wanted him to find out.