I’m moving into my dorm room this week, and since I don’t know who lived there before or what they did there, I’m sure it’s chock full of weird energies. However, I won’t be allowed to smoke cleanse or burn candles, which are my favorite strong cleaning options. Here is a spell which can be prepared without burning and on a budget to sweep a small space clean.
- Small pieces of Bark, preferably Cedar (Banishing Negative Energies)
- Rosemary (Joy, Cleansing)*
- Cinnamon (Power, Protection, Success)
- 1 Acorn (Protection)*
- 3 Bay Leaves (Protection)
Mix the hard ingredients- bark, acorn, any unground herbs - together in a mortar and pestle or other crushing tool. Once ground to a consistent mix, sprinkle in powders or ground herbs. Stir gently.
Pour mixture into a jar or chosen container. Place bay leaves in the top, uncrushed so that the mixture beneath is fully covered. While placing, feel free to use an incantation to charge the bottle.
Leave open for at least one new moon (regardless of when the spell started) before closing off and sealing.
I will be replacing the sealed jar with my cactus once the spell is over to guard the space. Spirits may be called to protect, or another spell may be used to maintain the clean space.
*Any one of these ingredients can be safely left out to form a less potent spell.
I’ve just published a video on my YouTube channel (link for which is in my bio) where Manse the head instructor at Wilderness Pioneers teaches in detail how to make natural cordage from Cedar bark. Hoping you guys enjoy it and be sure to let me know if you give it a try as I’ll definitely be practising the technique myself
The first relative they were passed off to was an aunt named Saebler, who did the costumes, staging, and makeup for an acting troupe. Under the touch of Saebler’s clever hands, they became different children. She made charcoal into eyeliner to bring their deep dark eyes into sharp relief, and crushed beetles and beeswax into stains for their lips.
To Aunt Saebler, it was a game to keep the children busy. To Lup and Taako, it was magic.
When Taako put on the right makeup and the right costume, he wasn’t some annoying kid underfoot – he was an actor, a spectacle, a source of delight for everyone in the villages they passed through. And when Lup put on hers – subtler touches than Taako’s, but powerful all the same – the people around her saw the fire of her truth burning inside her, and didn’t put it out with the wrong words, the wrong spaces around her body.
The acting troupe traveled north, and though the weather grew cold, Lup and Taako refused to take off the dresses they’d patched out of spare bits of fabric from Saebler’s costume-making. In a town called Iskryn, Saebler turned them out into the churchyard of the temple of Azuth to learn magic from the clerics.
“Fuck, it’s cold,” Lup said, watching the lacy hem of her dress soak through with snow. “Why are we here instead of the caravan?”
“I think ol’ Saebler wants to go pick up guys at the tavern,” Taako observed. “Which is fine, I guess, but it does leave us… here.”
Third installment of the Carlisle Cullen “Eternity” series (“Eternity” - “By Your Side”) requested by two anons. “Hey :3 Could you maybe continue the Carlisle Eternity Imagines you did? Like how the life of Carlisles mate is after she was turned? :3 Thank you!” and “Hi! Would you mind picking where you left off with the eternity story? That’s one hell of a cliffhanger and angst combined into one but I’d like to see more of it.. Thank you:)” If you’d like the series continued further, please send a request for the plot of the next installment. Hope you like it!
Listen to the series playlist on the “Playlist” page.
“No more… no more, no more… please, make it stop. Please!” Carlisle, his face mangled by the haze of saltwater blurring your vision, shook his head slowly. The inferno raged on, your pulse drumming wildly in your ear. You screamed, a plea for sanctuary, a plea for a savior, your temples ringing with the pressure your voice produced, the vampire’s head ducking into your hand. He was silent. “Carlisle!!!!”
You were screaming from a precipice, tilting downward towards the rushing of the ocean, reaching backwards for help only to find open air awaiting your desperate fingertips. If you were to plummet to the sea, though, you likely had a shot at relief. Your entire body was scorched by the flames that lapped at the walls of your veins, coursing like acid from your heart to the tips of your toes, enveloping your body in a maddening inferno. You were calling out, calling for someone, a name that flitted from brain to tongue every second beating of your struggling heart, a name absent from your mind at all other times. You hardly recalled why you were shouting the name, only that somewhere, somehow, this person could extinguish the fire.
A hand, chilled as if carved from ice, wrapped around your wrist, pulling your thrashing arm to meet a pair of similarly icy lips. The chill soon faded, the fire swallowing any and all forms of relief. You pulled against you captor, a switch flicking in your brain that this person, those hands, those lips… they could have caused your agony. They did not fight to regain control of your hand, allowing your arm to drop back to the sweat-slick metal holding you afloat on a sea of gasoline. Though your eyes were open, you saw nothing but light, blinding, brilliant, glorious, painful light… glaring down from above as if God himself were watching you as you were reduced to ash on a pyre.
“Y/n, darling, it’s almost over,” the voice said, plucking at your mind like a harpist. You knew the voice, and yet it was far too distant to place a face to the sound. Whoever it was, they were grasping your hand once again, anchoring you to the table. You struggled to listen to the reason, the rational, your ears straining against the crackling embers bursting within your bones, sifting through veils of heat until you located the tender, calming tone. How sadistic; how could anyone be calm in a time like this? Your skin was all but melting from your bones, the fat was dripping from your body like wax from a candle, and this voice, this monster, was speaking as if nothing was awry! “If you can hear me, know that you have only hours remaining. It will be over soon,” the voice continued, cooling like an ice block along the surface of a scalding sheet of steel. How could he… how could he be so detached? There was emotion in his voice, yes, but how could anyone act so serene while you were flaking away like ash from the charcoal remains of a forest? How could he… how could he? You writhed against your inner destruction, your limbs splaying this way and that as you fought to find comfort amongst the flames. You never found purchase on anything other than the hand that held your so firmly, as if, through conviction alone, that hand could anchor you to reality. It was a fruitless effort. There was no room for rational when the bones were burning.
As the hours, or the years (one could hardly tell the difference with pain as excruciating as this was ravaging the body), passed on, you felt the flames retreat from your fingertips, leaving your skin to relish in the gentle warmth of the hands that had been so very cold before. The recesses of your mind were freed of the unimaginable agony, and, though the pain roared on, you were able to collect what limited thoughts you could stray from the fire. The hand closed firmly around yours, sending a pulse through from his skin to yours. Carlisle had yet to leave your side. You parted your lips, this time to speak instead of release another wordless cry, gathering what breath you could to whisper his name. His lips, warmer now than you remembered, pressed against the backside of your palm. He was smiling. The fire continued to retreat through your limbs, leaving your arms mostly void of pain up to the shoulder, and the majority of your legs were cooling as well, sending smoke to the Heavens as the fire burned out. You were hardly free, though, for what little pain was leached from your limbs was congealing around your heart. You could hear your pulse, though not as before, muffled as it was by the layers of skin… no, this was very different, startlingly so. It was as if you had bent your ear to the chest of another, sicker soul, listening intently without interruption or strain to the dying beats of a suffering heart. It was staggering forward, struggling to contract, blood forcing through unwilling veins as your body finally crystallized. One beat, slower this time, and a long pause. You waited, anxious, triggers and flags flying in your mind, striking worry into your thoughts. Hearts were not supposed to stop. One last stutter pounded through the room… and silence. There was not a breath in the room… and… and you knew this because you heard… everything. From the bird wing brushing against cedar bark beyond the wall, to the creaking of the floorboards as the strain of the forest home’s weight wore them down… you heard it all. You dared not inhale, not open your eyes, afraid of what you would see, of what would have changed. A voice called to you from the darkness, and, oh, what a voice it was.
He was the sweetest tenor you had ever heard, singing sweetly a name you had all but forgotten, his voice resonating like the final peal of a cathedral bell through the crisp autumn air… he spoke the word as if his every waking moment surrounded the sound, lips parting smoothly, a smile, and finally, the brush of a hand against your wrist.
Your eyes shot open, your chest heaving as you absorbed the scent of your surroundings, wrenching your hand from the alien contact. You found yourself flipping from the table, though your vision had not been distorted by the movement, as it would have been if you were… well, if you were still human. You had changed. Your back was pressed against the glass interior of the forest home, your eyes drinking in your environment, falling first on your unassuming pyre, next on the figure standing, motionless, beside the sheet of metal on which you had been burned. His hand was extended towards you, but whatever it was he was holding was lost entirely to the distraction that was his face. You had never fully understood how inhumanely beautiful he was until this moment, watching the evening sun’s final rays set diamonds in his skin, his golden eyes glimmering like faceted topaz. He was a picture of glory, of light. An angel, surely, but so much more exquisite than any representation you had laid eyes on. His lips were parted in caution, though the corners of his mouth were turned upwards with the ghost of a smile. He was frozen in his perfection, blond hair swept backwards… you wanted to call his features to memory, to compare how your human eyes had perceived him to how he stood before you now… but there was absolutely no competition. This Carlisle was of another world, a world you now called home. His voice called out again, his body unmoving save the parting of his lips around the song that was your name.
“Y/n,” he spoke, voice clear as the wind, his eyes holding yours in an inescapable gaze. “Darling, you are safe here.” Your body, held rigid in a defensive position, straightened almost instantly. You had but to think to move. There was no sense of exertion, no strain, no stiffened movement. You were safe here. His hand, held outstretched towards you, moved slowly higher. He was taking care not to alarm you in any way, but instead called your attention, calmly, to the item in his grasp. You moved to stand before him, gliding on a breath, your eyes drilling holes in the paper he held. His voice perfumed the air with scents of lavender and pine, of salt on an ocean breeze and something much, much warmer and fragrant still, not far from cinnamon but… unnameable. “I am unsure how much of our, your, life you can recall, but this was of your creation. It may help you to remember.” He opened his palm, presenting the paper to you. Your fingers, slender and graceful (and so very, very pale) plucked the parchment from his grasp, your eyes focusing on the pulp and grain of the page before distancing yourself enough to notice the ink had formed words.
It was a list.
On the left side of a scraggly line was a list of unfortunates. The handwriting was legible, but the strokes were clearly wavering. It was difficult to focus on such imperfection, especially after absorbing an image as faultless as Carlisle’s face, but you fought through your minor irritation to read the words.
Family, it read, followed by a string of distasteful hardships, all of them scratched into the page with the same ink, the same trembling hand. Blood Thirst Sunlight Pain
Your eye strayed to the opposite side of the hastily drawn border, finding a single word, a name, to counter each of the fears and sacrifices listed over the line, anchoring you to a decision.
You raised your eyes to meet his, even more glorious in close proximity, his lips smiling warmly. In his irises, you saw the reflection of a brilliant face, no less beautiful than Rosalie, her body frozen mid-dance, forever graceful, even without motion. She was grinning with contentment. Her eyes were a violent crimson, a frightening hue, but she was beautiful still. Her skin blazed with a thousand sparkling gemstones, unseen even to you, their effects the only visible hint that there was a wealth of beauty buried beneath her exterior. You watched as her grin bloomed into a breathtaking smile, a row of perfect teeth gleaming in the dying rays of sunlight. Carlisle had been right. It was delightfully warm. You refocused now on the man himself, your hand allowing the paper to stray, the scent of pulp and ink and saltwater tears hushing against the floorboards underfoot. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, running over the impossible caress of cashmere, unmatched until you encountered the skin of his throat, his face, your palm cradling his cheek. He exhaled, and his decadent aroma washed over your face, flushing your senses with his essence. Yes, it had all been worth it. Your thumb circled over his cheekbone, his eyes challenging you, warning you of his coming advancement.
Your muscles constricted as he bowed his head, though not as they had done before. You were not readying yourself for flight or defense. Anticipation grasped your every inch as Carlisle brought his lips to yours, a choir of bells illuminating, somehow, the darkness behind your eyelids. Yes, it was worth it. His lips moved against yours with the quiet contentment of one who never had to slow, never had to depart from the one he loved. You had every last second of limitless lifetimes at your disposal. There was absolutely no rush, just as he had assured you. You opened your eyes, running your fingertips along his jawline, watching as your skin threw shadow and fragments of light against his, the both of you warm to the touch, harvesting light as the sun dipped behind the treeline, leaving your flesh pearly, and magnificent still. His lips tugged against yours, surprising you when his teeth grazed over your lower lip, urging you into his embrace. This action alone would have caused unimaginable pain three days ago, but now… there were no restrictions. Your arms wound around the back of his neck, your feet lifting from the ground as he spun you around, the room remaining in perfect detail as he did so, his elated laughter bouncing from the walls. You had made the right decision in allowing yourself to be changed, for your humanity (in the literal sense of the word) to be swallowed by ice and venom. You did not feel the chill any longer, and the venom’s pain now lingered only at your disposal. Every second of pain, ever spark, every flame… you could do it ten times over, a thousand, if it meant living in this moment with Carlisle forever. As if listening to your thoughts, the vampire smiled, his lips migrating to your ear, pressing kisses along your cheekbones as he went, hushing words against your skin.
“Forever,” he promised, breathing in the scent of you, his eyelashes whispering against your temple. You smiled, holding him to you, losing yourself in his embrace.
“Forever,” you mirrored, your voice as much a song as his. You were not startled by the discovery. You had made your decision long ago, it seemed, the day you met Carlisle. This was to be your eternity.
Recipe for Ancestral incense:
Base of Mullein
Tobacco from a cigar
White Pine wood*
Gokul dup(raw, unrefined myrrh resin)
Oils of: Cedar, Cypress, Patchouli, Nutmeg
Enchant, grind, and mix one botanical at a time with intent to contact your ancestors. Add the oils one at a time, mix thoroughly. Add a few drops of whiskey, mix, add a few more till damp but not soaking wet. Let dry completely.
For all of you precious souls out there who use curse jars but are afraid of the negative energy seeping out, try putting it in a mixture of sawdust and cedar bark. If any of the negativity does come out (unlikely) the sawdust will soak it up and the cedar will keep it trapped. Happy cursing!
Oak was there..but then she decided to skip this line up for the next one. ;P
In the midst of working on this I may have made a big mistake and signed up and started playing the free demo of Final Fantasy XIV online (O.O). Good thing it’s just a demo version…because I can not stop playing this game (O_O’). So fun…and at the same time so addictive ;P.
Are there other ways of cleansing your home of negativity besides burning sage?
Oh hell yes.
There are other herbs you can burn, and I highly recommend using them over white sage, since wild populations of the plant are becoming threatened because of over-harvesting. A number of these are easy to grow in pots from the seeds you can find in the supermarket, too.
Other herbs can be stuffed into sachets and hung wherever you think they’ll do the most good.
Cascara Segrada Bark
Oak (and acorns)
Solomon’s Seal Root
You can also burn white candles to lift heavy feelings in any room, sprinkle a bit of basil water in the corners of living areas, sweep bad feelings and energy out of your home with a willow twig broom, or simply open up the windows and play some music and let the sunshine in.
For the pocket poppets, what is the meaning/uses to all of the herbs and such listed? Like do certain ones represent protection etc
Yes ! I’ve been meaning to put a description for each herb (and color) but haven’t found the time to add it to the listing. (I’ll likely be uploading a photo to the listing for herb & color descriptions) I’ll try to be updating that in the near future, thank you for the reminder! For now, here is a short description for each herb currently available. (cedar, sage & white willow bark will be added soon)
Lavender is an herb of tranquility, often used in aromatherapy- known to be used for sleep, general relaxation, healing and love. Rosemary is a very purifying, cleansing & protective herb- historically known to be used when warding off evil. It is sacred to many cultures. Rose Petal is known to be the herb of love, attraction & beauty. Good for relationships- romantic,platonic or otherwise. Thyme also is purifying and protective,as rosemary. But is used for attraction as well- it’s often said wearing a sprig of thyme will make you more desirable! Allspice is a lucky herb. Known for bringing luck, abundance, success & prosperity. Coarse Sea Salt is cleansing, protective and absorbing! It has been used through out many cultures as a way to absorb negativity. Some users claim it is more of a neutralizer as well. Red Pepper Flakes sort of a ‘fight fire with fire’ herb- it’s often seen as baneful. It’s known to bring misfortune to ‘enemies’ in various ways. Alternatively- it’s intense! Brings passion and intensity your way. Chamomile is a gentle herb; good for sleep, meditation and known to bring luck! Catnip other than being a stimulant for cats; it’s known to be used to draw love your way- and happiness! My poppets actually double as cat toys when filled with catnip LOL
so such herbs placed in a poppet will enhance it’s properties accordingly, whether it’s for baneful reason, or beneficial! color plays a role as well;
Love, Passion, Courage, Blood, War, Assertiveness, Anger
Joy, Creativity, Confidence, Friendliness, Ignorance, Sluggishness
Pleasure, Success, Happiness, Inspiration, Irresponsibility, Unstable GREEN
Wealth, Abundance, Growth, Freshness, Jealousy, Greed
Focus, Truth, Patience, Calm, Coldness, Fear, Depression
BLACK Grounding, Protection, Repelling, Banishing, Wisdom, Baneful, Mystery WHITE
Purity, Healing, Cleansing, Balance, Peace, Spirit, Cold, Distant
and as always, your own associations with herbs, or color, is the strongest resource!
based on “back to december” by taylor swift bc i love pain :-)
“You still take coffee black?” a familiar voice questioned you, the timbre of it sounding deeper than you remembered.
Smiling, you shut your book and cast your gaze towards the man sliding into the seat in front of you, a grey beanie adorning his chestnut hair. “Yeah,” you replied, swirling the drink against its confines before taking a sip. “Sugar and cream still doesn’t sit well with my stomach.”
“Oh, don’t I know it,” Calum remarked, setting his own cup of what you could only guess was hot chocolate down on the table between you two, nestled into the back of the shop. “I thought I was being a gentleman when I showed up at your work with a coffee for you after our second date and almost killed you because I didn’t know you were lactose-intolerant.”
You shrugged, smiling down at the cedar bark tables and tracing the lines of the glazed with your eyes. “So how’ve you been?” you asked, biting your lip at the awkward atmosphere surrounding you and your former partner.
Calum smiled. “I’ve been good, actually, thanks for asking.”
You raised your eyebrows in question, hoping your expression looked more like a playful jest rather than resembling a grimace or glare, as your emotions were running haywire at the thought of someone else making Calum happy. He deserved it, you knew that much, but you couldn’t stop the thought from hurting.