A curse or malediction is a spell that is performed with malintent. These kinds of spells are generally performed to cause misery, pain, strife, and/or destruction upon a target.
Baneful - causing destruction or serious damage
Curse - a spell performed with malintent
Hex - used interchangeably with “curse” or “jinx”
Jinx - said to be a lesser form of baneful magick; also used interchangeably with “curse” and “hex”
Malintent - “bad” or negative intent
Target - the person on which you are performing the spell
Taglock - a personal item belonging to or describing the target (description of the target, a piece of DNA, their signature, their name written on paper, a poppet designed to represent them, etc.)
Steps to Casting a Curse:
Exhaust all mundane methods of resolving an issue before resorting to cursing.
Educate yourself on various methods of protection before even thinking about casting a curse.
Know what you’re doing. Research, plan ahead, and set your intentions straight in your mind to prevent any kind of backlash from the curse. This means, be specific. Be sure that your curse is aimed at your target/s, and no one else, including yourself.
When gathering ingredients, be sure that the correspondences match your intent.
Be aware of any health risks that are associated with the ingredients you choose to use in your curse - for example, certain baneful herbs can be harmful when burned, ingested, or even touched.
Formulate a curse that fits the crime in question.
Set conditions for your curse, including some kind of “failsafe.” If you don’t want your curse to last indefinitely, be sure to acknowledge that. Set some kind of time limit, such as “when the target learns their lesson, this curse will be lifted.”
Methods of cursing can include the construction of poppets, jar spells, sachets, effigies, sigils, or pretty much any other type of spell you can come up with.
When you have constructed a taglock for your target, gathered your ingredients, and ultimately decided how you want to carry out your curse, you’re ready to cast it.
Before actually casting the curse, set up some kind of method of protection, whether it be a ward, a shield, a circle, or calling upon external forces to protect you.
Meditate on your intent and clear your mind. Be sure you are free from distractions before performing the curse.
After you’ve performed your curse, clean up your space, and do some deep cleansing - cleanse the area in which you performed the curse, cleanse yourself, and cleanse your entire home.
Perform some self-care - eat something, take a bath/shower, drink water, and get a good night’s sleep.
Supernatural Preferences: Finding out you've got severe depression
Trigger warning!: If you have problems with mentions of self harm and suicidal thoughts, don’t read or read with caution.
Sam: When depression came a’ knockin and literally all hope seemed to be flushed down the drain, you finally turned to Sam seeking help. His initial instinct was complete and utter fear. For both himself and for your life. You meant so much to him, and the thought that you were on the verge/trying to take your life broke him down. How was he supposed to live on without being a constant in his not so normal life? For his sake and most importantly yours, he kept you at his side like a shadow. Making sure every second of every day was spent showing you how important your life was and that you were here on this dammed earth for a reason.
Dean: You always acted so tough and brick walled around Dean. Trying to match his badass outer appearance (honestly he was like that inside too. Except the soft and squish center). So when you approached him and explained how you were weak and couldn’t bare anything anymore, he was at shock that he was hearing it from you. Never expecting you to be in such a horrible position. “That’s a load of shit. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known, and I’m damn proud to have you in my life. That’s the hard truth.” He gave you a big hearted speech while trying is best not to cry.
Cas: From the start of your downfall into the darkness of depression, Cas knew something was wrong with you. At first he thought you might have been sick because of your ill acting. But after time he realized it was much more and a much deeper sickness than that. When it came down to it, he was the one that confronted you about it all. “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” He asked looking so hurt and sad that you were so mentally distraught. “You’re perfect in almost every sense to me, Cas. I felt ashamed to tell you how tainted I was.” He wouldn’t even let you finish replying to him before he pulled you in for a tight hug. “Y/n, I am far from perfect. But you- I could never see you as anything but just that…perfect.”
Crowley: Maybe it started around the same time Crowley began to withdraw a bit from your presence. Maybe it all came to view when ‘work’ became even the slightest bit more important. Either way you felt like a hopeless piece of shit and he wasn’t anywhere to be found. The day came when you broke down to him, yelling at how you couldn’t take it anymore. How you couldn’t take another day being in this god awful body and life. He immediately dropped everything. The Winchesters. Deals. Everything. Whether he blamed himself for partially pushing you think far into this mind set or not, he was there for you unconditionally.
Chuck: He caught you bawling your eyes out at three am. Debating on whether or not to take this life you called pathetic. A blade was in your right hand, and a shaky fist in another. He instantly took the blade from you before you even knew of his presence. “You can’t just force me to live! I can’t do this anymore and you don’t know what it’s like living with my mind. Your God-fucking God. Take it away, make the pain stop so I can be free and happy again to live…” each word you spoke drove into his heart like a blade. Sure he was God, but he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, just take away apart of you. Sure the part sucked, and it was a real life threatening pain in the ass. But he had his own cure for it. “Where are we going?” You asked as he took your hand and led you out off the floor. “To take a look at everything beautiful in the world. It always helps me. But this right here, this is the most beautiful thing that was ever created.” The two of you stood before a mirror, looking at your teary eyed reflection.
Gabriel: The moment you began to act even the slightest bit of odd, he knew. Whether it was a cold or just a bad mood from a period. He knew. So it was no surprise that he figured it off right from the bat that you were struggling daily with pretty much all will to do anything. “Come on kid. You’re badass with a capital A-S-S. I saw you stand up to my bag of dicks brother all for me, you can stand up for yourself all the same.”
Lucifer: Lets just say that it took you awhile to feel comfortable being an open, honest emotional human with the Devil. So telling him “hey, sorry I’m a pain in the ass. But that level of pain assery just upgraded to level depression.” That was how you practiced it all in your head. Of course it came out nothing like that. In fact, you opened your mouth to tell him exactly how your mind and heart were cooperating and he kissed you. For a split moment he silenced every demon lurking in your mind. “Whatever you need me, tell me. You won’t have to ask twice.” He was more than understanding if the feeling of hidden isolation you were going through. “I just need you. I need you to hold on and please not let go. No matter what.” Every word you spoke was mumbled into his chest that he held you into. Yes, the Devil himself was even so caring for just his one not so irritating and worthless specimen of human life.
Voltron Force [Battlefront] damaged copies + digital PDF release
Finally makes a post about this–
Voltron Force [BATTLEFRONT] will be going back up for sale on September 20th at 3pm Pacific time.
There will be books in new condition, damaged copies, digital PDFs, and sets of the exclusive Voltron military au dog tag necklaces. There is a very small number of items left. I still haven’t decided if I’m going to be doing a reprint of these books so please DO NOT ASK ME IF THERE WILL BE.
After long last, here’s some information regarding digital PDFs of Voltron Force [BATTLEFRONT].
Digital PDFs will include all 62 pages of the doujin, including the guest pages and covers. However it will not come with the free postcard that comes with the physical copy of the books.
THIS IS IMPORTANT IF YOU WISH TO BUY THE DIGITAL BOOK: The shop will list the Digital PDF as “COMING SOON.” You won’t be able to buy the digital copy from this shop. Click on the item and check the description box for a link that will redirect you to where you can purchase the digital PDF.
The digital copy will cost $10 per download.
The digital PDF will only be available for purchase from September 20th to September 25th (5 days).
The damage varies between books, but includes one or more of the following: dented cover/spine, scratches on cover, binding glue damage, damage to the foil stamping.
Each damaged book will be sold at a discounted price of $10, not including shipping.
[EXCLUSIVE MILITARY AU DOG TAGS]
The dog tags that I made exclusively for this doujinshi will be sold separately from the book now for $15. This includes all five dog tags. The dog tags will not be sold individually.
i was thinking abt david malloy’s writing style and what exactly it was that gave it that really unique, very distinct vibe, and ive come to the conclusion that it’s because, on the whole, he doesn’t ACTUALLY write songs. He writes poems, and then composes music to be played alongside them. “but thats all any song is”, you might be saying, except NO, its NOT - he uses poetic devices far more often than he uses lyrical devices. A lot of his pieces aren’t made up of a verse/chorus/bridge structure, they’re these rambling stories that are constantly evolving and dont really follow any sort of guidelines. They still have their rhythms, but its normally free and unfixed, changing to fit the tone of the lyrics rather than the lyrics being forced into a pre-decided form. They are often conversational (a fair number of them are just straight-up conversations set to music). Even getting to the way he uses words and language; its much closer to the way a poet uses them compared to the way a typical songwriter uses them (he jumps between the very symbolic and the very literal within the space of two lines). No obviously there are some clear exceptions, like Four Friends and Charming, but a lot of them?? poems set to music.
hey, you call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest…
and you come away with a great little story of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you
i’ve found time can heal most anything, and you just might find who you’re supposed to be…
and there you are on your knees, begging for forgiveness, begging for me, just like i always wanted, but i’m so sorry…
and the saddest fear comes creeping in, that you never loved me, or her, or anyone, or anything yeah
and for the first time, what’s past is past..
this is falling in love in the cruelest way, this is falling for you when you are world’s away…
call a cab, lose my number, you’re about to lose your girl…
and what do you do when the one who means the most to you… is the one who didn’t show…
this is a state of grace, this is the worthwhile fight, love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right…
you took the time to memorise me, my fears, my hopes, and dreams i just like hanging out with you all the time…
two headlights shine through the sleepless night, and i will get you i’ll get you alone, your name has echoed through my mind and i just think you should think you should know that nothing safe is worth the drive and i will follow you follow you home…
we made a quite a mess babe, it’s probably better off this way, and i confess babe, in my dreams you’re touching my face, and asking me if i wanna try again with you, and i almost do…
distance, timing, breakdown, fighting, silence, train runs off its tracks, kiss me try to fix it, could you just try to listen… hang up, give up, for the life of us we can’t get back…
but i took your matches before fire could catch me so don’t look now… i’m shining like fireworks over your sad empty town…
my thoughts will echo your name until i see you again, these are the words i held back as i was leaving too soon, i was enchanted to meet you..
time turns flames to embers, you’ll have new september’s, every one of us has messed up too…
and i hope the sun shines and its a beautiful day, and something reminds you you wished you had stayed, you can plan for a change in weather and time, but i never planned on you changing your mind…
will you take a moment, promise me this, that you’ll stand by me forever, but if god forbid fate should step in, and force us into a goodbye, if you have children someday, when they point to the pictures, please tell them my name, tell them how the crowds went wild, tell them how i hope they shine..
remember when you hit the brakes too soon, 20 stitches in the hospital room, when you started crying baby i did too, when the sun came up i was looking at you, remember when you couldn’t take the heat, i walked out i said I’m setting you free but the monsters turned out to be just trees, and when the sun came up you were looking at me…
you were all i wanted, but not like this….
you’ll see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night, burnin it down, someday when you leave me i bet these memories will follow you around..
remind me how it used to be, pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks, and say you want me….
your smile, my ghost, i fell to my knees, when you’re young you just run, but you come back to what you need…
now that I’m clean, i’m never gonna risk it…
i reached for you but you were gone, i knew i had to go back home, you search the world for something else to make you feel like what we had, and in the end in wonderland we both went mad…
Growing up in a hunter’s family was nowhere close to being a
normal life. Sure, you lived in a community, but it was filled with hunter’s
and their families. While you were learning your ABC’s and 123’s, you were also
learning about the different types of monster’s and how to kill them. School
was not a place to socialize. There was no such thing as friends, and you never
even dreamed of having a boyfriend. It was a strict life, one filled with rules
and death followed you everywhere.
It was a different life. Many would call it child abuse, and
in some instances, you could see where that would be true. Yours might not have
been perfect, but your parents cared for you.
Being a hunter, there was a certain community, a certain way of life
that didn’t make it easy to bring in strangers to the life. That’s why,
starting in the early 1900’s, hunters started arranging marriages. With at
least five different hunting communities country wide, it was the safest and
wisest way to make sure that the hunter’s legacy continued.
Just something I’ve noticed about the last sequence...
Ah, the last sequence. Everyone is understandably focused on the parts with Larry because of reasons, but I think the little moments mixed in with the Larry parts are also significant.
Dean waking up after the hex, the hex starting to affect Dean, who is having problems doing the job. A neutral premise to the events that follow, I guess. Of course, you can also google ‘rabbit symbolism’ and find out that Symbolic rabbit meanings deal primarily with abundance, comfort, and vulnerability. Traditionally, rabbits are associated with fertility, sentiment, desire, and procreation. Dean’s disgust about the corpse in the morgue can also be seen as meaningful of his desire of living, of life, of the things associated to rabbits, which are the opposite of death.
So, comfort, vulnerability, desire… Dean seeking emotional comfort and sex with feelings, right? Let’s see what comes after this.
Ha! The waitress slaps him because he didn’t show up when they’d arrange to meet after the bar closed. She was busy doing her job (she says the bar was super busy that night) so she arranged to meet him afterwards (“we were supposed to meet after close-up, but you never showed”), and she learned that he’d left like his pants had taken fire. Nothing has happened between the two of them, because hooking up was what was supposed to happen but Dean left to chase Gideon (incidentally, a Cas parallel*). In fact, when Dean and Sam first start questioning her about the night before, she sounds jealous of Larry, because Larry got the attention she didn’t. By saying that Dean had had the hots for Larry all along, she’s calling him gay and blaming him for not meeting her as he’d promised. Basically: the sex with the lady didn’t happen. When she said they blew off some steam, she was presumably gauging Dean’s reaction, because it makes zero sense for her to have actually interrupted working to get with Dean when she emphasized that she had a lot of work to do and she arranged to meet with Dean after she’d finish working for that reason.
*Dean chases a male witch that is telling his… partners in crime? companions? friends? siblings? (they use the word brother a lot but don’t seem to have definitive ideas of what they are exactly) to run and save themselves. In the promo for the next episode, someone is telling his… partners in crime? companions? friends? siblings? (they use the word brother a lot but don’t seem to have definitive ideas of what they are exactly) to run and save themselves. So if Gideon is a Cas mirror, that opens up interesting scenarios of possible foreshadowing, but I don’t want to use this post for that topic.
I am really, really sorry about this, but in an episode filled with innuendo to the brim, you can’t tell me that isn’t supposed to be… you know… a metaphor. When Sam has him sit down in front of the tv, there is a moment of miscommunication where Dean thinks Sam is going to show him a tv channel that airs porn. So the scene has a certain layer added to it - Dean for a moment wonders if this is the kind of situation of… you know the kind of thing he watches that has two guys and a lady in it, like he said in the bar in 8x23? (Not the first time he doesn’t know who Sam is - remember how when, as Dean Smith, he assumed Sam was hitting on him. But I’m digressing.)
Let’s be real, that is a flower ejaculating on a dog, and we’ve talked to the death about which characters are associated to flowers and dogs so I’ll just leave it here.
(Part of me is screaming ‘do not post this’ because this is the kind of thing that gets you flock of haters calling you delusional and other very ableist insults. Anti-Destiel people, if you’re reading this, please let me have my harmless fun in my tiny corner of the internet. My friends and I here are using a piece of entertainment to get entertained and have fun and play with it together. Don’t harass people for something like this.)
The next moment is Dean’s exhilaration at the idea that their best friend is an angel. This is Dean smiling bright at the idea of Cas. We don’t know how much of Cas he remembers at this moment, but it makes Dean happy.
What’s honorable about a miniature bar in a motel room? Everything.
The last moment is different than the previous ones - in fact I think this last moment is meant to suggest that Dean remembers the events that have occurred between the hex and the end of the spell (the entire last sequence is about Dean remembering, since he can now remember Larry, that stands for everything that happened before the hex), ergo including his conversations with Rowena (it would also explain why he feels comfortable around her after she lifts the spell and they play the joke on Sam together and laugh together - he remembers her being emotionally open with him).
So all of this happens inside the sequence of Dean riding Larry. Do whatever you want with this. You can feel free to continue believing that the show isn’t setting up for a sexual relationship between Dean and Cas, I’m not here to force people to believe one thing or another.
But the episode is about Dean ditching a pretty girl to chase a guy who is framed as a Cas parallel, in addition to Dean being proud of his riding skills and generally being unapologetic about loving unmanly things.
Prompt: What started out as something tedious and inconvenient turns into a force nothing can tear down.
Pairing: Kylo Ren X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Sexual content and mentions of violence
A/N: This was inspired by this set of headcannons written by the amazing @obiwannacorncobkenobi, go follower her if you love Star Wars!
“What the hell is this?!”
And just like that all of the excitment of the sensual moment had depleted and been replaced with negative adrenaline and the utmost embarrassment.
“On my base?! This is an outrage!”
Every possible outcome raced through your mind as Kylo Ren carefully lead your legs off of his waist, freeing you from your previous position between his body and the wall. Your bare feet touched the cool concrete on the floor and you shivered. You were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked.
Prompt: “Can you write a Harry styles imagine where he wakes you up in the middle of the night with a migraine and he needs you to take care of him because he doesn’t feel good ?? Thanks darling!” -Anon
Word Count: 1,106.
Ah- Ah- Ah -Ah I’ve got a migraine. There’s a couple tøp references in this heh. Apologies that it’s so short! Wrote this in the hour of free time that I had lol. Thank you for requesting :) I’m slowly moving down my lists of requests now that I got a new laptop! Next one will be a Josh Dun imagine.
Love to you, Iz xx
Fuck. Harry thinks to himself, green eyes reluctantly opening. He moves to grip his head only to realise his arm is stuck in your firm grasp. Another line of profanities slips from his lips as he edges it out of your arms. You stir slightly before flipping to the other side, a sigh of relief leaving his lips.
Fucking hell this hurts. Harry clutches his head, which is now aching. He knew exactly what was coming on. The discomfort only increases the more he rouses himself. His eyes shut, the pain reverberating throughout the rest of his skull.
How the hell did this even happen? He didn’t even drink much before going to bed- just a couple wine glasses of wine at his dinner party with Jeff and Glenn.
His free hand pats the bedside table for the glass of water you always made sure to set out in case of instances like this. The migraine picks at him as he gulps down the glass and decides medicine would be the only cure.
The hardwood floor is frigid underneath his feet and Harry reminds himself to start wearing socks to bed; the winter months in London are always unforgiving.
Not wanting to worsen the pain, he is forced to search for the medicine in the dark. His fingers brush over a bottle similar to his usual pain relief bottle so he pours two into his hands. However once the pills touch his palm, his brows furrow. They’re circular instead of the usual capsule-shaped pills.
He pulls the bottle closer, eyes widening at the label. “Fast Acting Laxatives” reads the jar, causing Harry to yelp and drop it. He was this close to taking two of them. He winces at the sound of hard plastic hitting the floor, knowing several little pills spilt out.
Why ‘ave we even got these in the first place? Oh shit, wait, yeah. Harry answers his own question, thinking back to the time he pranked Louis back by crushing one and putting it into his drink. Serves Louis right though, no one messes with Harry’s boots, especially if it is to draw something on them.
Rummaging through the rest of the drawer, he finally comes across the correct bottle of medicine after carefully examining the label despite the strain in his eyes and pulse in his head.
He quietly pads back to the bed, hoping to fall asleep quickly and wake up feeling better. Your eyes flutter open at the sudden dip and wave of warmth, turning to glance at your husband.
“Harry?” You mumble in the darkness, reaching a hand out for his. He curses to himself, having woken you up.
He cuddles closer to you, tugging your body onto his chest. He’s afraid if he tells you about the raging migraine in his head, you’ll feel compelled to stay awake and take care of him. He murmurs a reply you just barely register.
“Go back to sleep, darlin.” You don’t have to be told twice as you drift off, sleep becoming of you once again.
A small smile etches across his face as he feels you falling deeper.
Though once your breathing slows, Harry regrets not telling you what was wrong as the throbbing only escalates. He lets out a groan knowing it would take another twenty minutes for the medicine to set in, and even then he doesn’t know if it would work that well.
His breathing becomes heavy, gripping the right side of his head. He didn’t get migraines often, but when he did, oh boy were they raging. His eyes clamp down in an attempt to force sleep, but it only worsens the pain.
“Mgh.” He releases an incoherent moan, shifting from side to side. Harry knows he probably shouldn’t, but fuck it, you’re the only person he knows could help.
“Love,” He gently shakes. You grumble a bit as his swaying continues, his repeated pet names finally waking you.
“What? What is it, H?” You almost snap, slightly annoyed.
“I-I-I’ve got a migraine.” He mutters in reply, guilt also setting in as he woke you with his own problems.
“Oh.” You bite your lip, thankful that you did not utter any rude words.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. You can go back to sleep-”
“No, no. Of course not. I’m glad you woke me up. Do you want me to get some more water or boil some? Have you taken meds for it?”
His head nods, whining lowly at the sensation.
“ ‘m sorry,” Harry apologises again. “I really wouldn’t wake you unless it was bad and I’ve tried to go back to sleep but I just can’t and- and… it really fooking hurts.”
You lean forward to lay a kiss on his forehead. “Don’t apologise for wanting help, my love.” You respond before exiting to make tea. The herbal ones always seemed to calm him.
Once back in the room, you frown at his exterior. His body is up against the headboard, arms crossed and trying to relax but it was only causing more of an ache.
You sigh, pulling him closer. He tries to relax in your grasp but cannot rattle the discomfort. Your fingers dig into his hair, gently massaging the tender areas.
“… and my pain will range from up, down and sideways, thank God it’s Friday cause Fridays…” You hum lowly, the TØP song sticking to your brain after Harry brought up the title.
“Don’t know why they, always seem so dismal. Thunderstorms, clouds, snow, and a slight drizzle…”
“What’s the name of that song again, angel?” Harry interjects.
“Migraine.” You chuckle, causing him to groan.
“You don’t like the song?”
“No, no. I do, it’s just… perhaps something a bit more mellow for the moment?”
You nod, beginning a different song for your husband. Though everything still hurt, your repeated touch and sound eased his pain just a bit.
“But ain’t nobody love you like I do…”
You notice his breathing gradually calm as you sing softly. Another smile comes across his face, feeling incredibly thankful to have you around. Nothing and no one could ever make him feel as you do.
“Promise that I will not take it personal-”
“-baby?” He completes the line, though his intonation hints that it is question rather than him singing. You pout, thinking you had upset him again by the choice of song. Happier had also been circling your thoughts and though it did not apply to either of you, it was still a fantastic song to sing.
Hello, this is my first time posting one of my own concoctions. A little spell bottle I’m giving out from my personal set of spells. Open for all, this isn’t culturally based or anything. So, you are free to use it as you please.
“What’s this little bad boy do?”, you must be asking yourself. Well, It’s gonna be your best friend during the tough times when you might not have many friends. This bottle is a spell that’ll keep you protected from the will of those who plot against you and help with keeping your allies close. Sometimes you have to deal with nasty forces, this bottle will help stop any negative effects.
A great thing about this bottle is it’s quite literally an altar cleaner. Some of the items involved are leftovers from the works you may already be doing. So, scrounge up your scraps, cause you gonna need them.
2 Cinnamon Sticks
4 Matches (Burned from a previous working)
Dried Red Flowers
Melted Wax (From previous working)
Strong liquor (Completely optional)
Strand of your own hair
Red Chili Powder
Incense Ashes (Burned from a previous working)
A few droplets of water
Dragon’s Blood. (Oil, Incense, etc.) (As long as the essence is there)
Glass Bottle or Jar (A vessel that is glass and you can seal)
Black String, Cloth, or Tape
Now that you have all the items together, you are going to put the ingredients in the bottle one by one. While doing so, focus on those who may be sending harm your way. Focus on their faces, names, or actions against you. Once you have focused, begin picturing yourself. Picture yourself unaffected. Feel yourself be free of all the chains they wish to hold you back with. When this is complete and all the ingrediants are all in the bottle, you can now close the top. Begin shaking the bottle. Any frustrations that you may have on your journey will now belong to the bottle. State it out loud, “Any frustrations I may have, this bottle will receive.”
The final step is to cover the bottle in a black covering. The contents do not have to be completely hidden, simply shaded a bit. After thie contents are shaded, you have now just finished my “Enemy Begone” Bottle.