#and I got a mason jar of dried hibiscus for like $3

[good-night-space-kid]

I did not need to know how easy it is to make jamaica because I will be drinking this every day

[kjack89]

Personal Gain (Chapter 3/?)

Modern magic AU, developing E/R and Courferre. Read Chapter 1 here and read Chapter 2 here (or read on AO3).

Thanks to the meeting and a rather long-winded conversation Enjolras and Combeferre had after said meeting, Courfeyrac didn’t have to listen to any of Combeferre’s objections until they got back to his place later that night. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t feel Combeferre’s accusatory glare the entire time.

“I thought you said that love was something magic couldn’t replicate,” Combeferre said sternly when Courfeyrac plopped down on the couch.

“And it can’t,” Courfeyrac said. “Maybe calling it a love potion is a little strong. It’s more like an attraction potion. Or a, uh…” He waggled his eyebrows at Combeferre. “A lust potion, you might say.”

Combeferre wrinkled his nose. “A lust potion?” he repeated doubtfully.

“That’s right,” Courfeyrac said cheerfully. “All I need is to get Enjolras to drink the potion, and bam, all those feelings of desire they’ve both been trying to hide will come pouring out, and he’ll want to possess and keep Grantaire.”

“First off, that sounds a little rape-y,” Combeferre pointed out. “Secondly, what if it misdirects at the wrong person, and we all have to sit through Enjolras having a crush on Feuilly again?”

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. “It requires a bit of the person it’s aimed at, so it’ll be fine,” he said confidently.

“I see you’re ignoring the rape-y part,” Combeferre said, and when Courfeyrac ignored him, instead flipping through the Book of Shadows, he sighed and added, “Guess we’ll have to revisit the topic of magical consent later.”

“We can revisit it now,” Courfeyrac murmured distractedly. “The potion only magnifies feelings that already exist, it doesn’t create them.”

“But it still reveals those feelings without consent,” Combeferre said, leaning forward, something almost excited in his tone, and Courfeyrac sighed, recognizing it all too well. This was an academic exercise for Combeferre, and while normally Courfeyrac was only too willing to help Combeferre puzzle his way through an intellectual problem, he wasn’t in the mood for it. 

Instead, he picked up the Book of Shadows and headed into his kitchen to start gathering ingredients. Combeferre followed, and without any discussion, they started working together, Courfeyrac gathering the herbs he needed while Combeferre grabbed one of the smaller cauldrons and started filling it at the sink. 

“I’m just saying,” Combeferre said over the sound of the running water. “If Enjolras and Grantaire haven’t said anything yet, maybe it’s for a reason.”

“There are a lot of reasons why people do and don’t say things,” Courfeyrac said. “But that doesn’t mean that my magic can’t help them.”

Combeferre turned the sink off and moved the cauldron to the stove. “Is helping them without their consent still considered helping?”

“The same question could be asked for all the magic that I do,” Courfeyrac pointed out, grabbing the tin of hibiscus tea that Jehan had given him from the cupboard and handing it to Combeferre, who opened a drawer to root around for the infuser. “It’s not possible to get consent in every or even most scenarios where my magic can help people. Would you rather I not use my magic at all?”

“I didn’t say that,” Combeferre said, filling the infuser with tea before handing it back to Courfeyrac, who promptly stuck it in the cauldron to steep. “And there are obvious situations where there isn’t time or the ability to get consent, just like in medicine. But you’re making a big assumption that your magic is helping and not hurting here, especially since you and I both know that your goal at the end of the day was to help yourself so that you don’t have to listen to them argue anymore.”

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes before carefully measuring dried damiana petals into the cauldron. “No, that’s why you think I’m doing this.”

Combeferre leaned against the kitchen counter. “Fine, then why are you doing this?”

Courfeyrac sighed, absently unscrewing and rescrewing the lid of his mason jar of moon water as he tried to find the right words. “Because they should be together,” he said, just a little stubbornly. “Because they both would be so happy with each other if they would just admit how they feel. Because I can help them realize that they have nothing to lose and everything to gain if they would just, I don’t know, use their words.” He shook his head, rummaging for a teaspoon in a drawer. “Because I love love.”

Combeferre’s expression was unreadable as he watched Courfeyrac sprinkle moon water into the cauldron, each droplet hissing as it hit the bubbling concoction. “Well, then, for your sake, I hope this works.”

“It will,” Courfeyrac said confidently, stirring the cauldron. “It’s foolproof.” Combeferre made a small noise of amusement and Courfeyrac glanced over at him. “What?” he asked defensively.

“Nothing,” Combeferre said. “Just...famous last words, you know?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Courfeyrac sniffed.

Combeferre grinned. “I’m sure you don’t.”

----------

The inaccurately named love potion took two weeks to brew, so Courfeyrac focused on getting the final ingredient: a little piece of Grantaire. This was made far easier than he expected by Enjolras, who came to the next Les Amis meeting looking even paler than usual. “You look like shit,” Grantaire told him, and Enjolras glared at him.

“You really know how to charm a guy,” he muttered, rubbing his arms. “It’s just freezing in here, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Grantaire said skeptically, tugging his ratty green hoodie off and thrusting it unceremoniously at Enjolras. “Well, if you’re not going to go to bed and get some rest like I’m certain you should, at least this will stop you from shivering so hard we won’t be able to understand you.”

“Thanks,” Enjolras said grudgingly, taking the hoodie and pulling it on.

It was from that hoodie that Courfeyrac was able to inconspicuously pluck a few black hairs, which he added to the love potion that night.

And since Enjolras spent the next two weeks mutinously pretending he didn’t have a cold, it was easy enough for Courfeyrac to offer him some ‘tea’ when the time came. “For your, uh, allergies,” Courfeyrac said brightly, practically forcing the steaming mug on him.

“Danks,” Enjolras said, still wearing Grantaire’s hoodie, his stuffy nose making him sound far more like Joly than himself. He took a swig of tea and made a face. “New recipe?”

“Just something I’m trying out,” Courfeyrac said breezily. “Drink up, drink up.”

As Enjolras obediently drank the tea, Courfeyrac glanced over at Grantaire, who was watching Enjolras with a look of mild concern, though Courfeyrac speculated that had more to do with Enjolras’s stubborn insistence that he was healthy and hale than anything else. Enjolras handed the empty mug back, looking slightly less sickly than he had moments before. “I’d stick with the old recipe,” he advised. “I’m not sure—”

He broke off with a frown, and Courfeyrac tried not to look too eager. “Problem?”

Enjolras shook his head slowly. “No, I’m—”

He broke off again, but this time it was because he had been interrupted by a loud meow from somewhere around their ankles, and both men immediately looked down at the black cat that was twining through Enjolras’s legs and looking up at him…

Well, looking up at him with a look very much like one Grantaire normally wore.

“What are you doing in here?” Enjolras asked, sounding concerned, and he bent to pick the cat up. 

Courfeyrac blinked. “Do you, uh, know this cat?”

Enjolras stroked the cat’s cheek with the back of his finger and nodded, his brow furrowed. “Sure, it’s the cat that lives in the alley outside, but I’ve never seen him come inside like this. He normally hisses if anyone gets too close. He’ll let me or Grantaire leave some food for him every now and then, but…”

He trailed off as the cat rubbed his head against Enjolras’s chest, purring loudly. “Maybe it’s because I’m wearing Grantaire’s hoodie?” he suggested, baffled.

As if he had heard his name, Grantaire appeared at Enjolras’s side, frowning. “What is the cat doing in here?” he asked, reaching out as if to pet the cat and jerking his hand back when the cat whipped his head around, hissing. “Nice kitty.”

“It’s ok,” Enjolras told the cat, his voice slipping into something that sounded an awful lot like a coo. “Grantaire brings you food sometimes, and you let him give you scritches, remember?”

The cat gazed adoringly up at Enjolras and Grantaire scowled, crossing his arms in front in his chest. “The damned thing was just letting me play with him a few weeks ago,” he complained. “And now I can’t even touch him? Not fair.”

Combeferre, who had been seated nearby watching this all unfold as he refused, this time around, to play any direct role in Courfeyrac’s spell-casting, cleared his throat. “Neither of you should probably be touching the cat,” he said. “It probably has fleas.”

But Enjolras ignored him, stroking the cat between the ears, his expression soft. “Maybe he’s tired of living in an alley,” he said. “Maybe I should take him home with me.”

Grantaire made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Home?” he repeated. “To your apartment that has a very clear ‘no pets’ policy in its lease?”

Enjolras ignored him and Courfeyrac frowned at Grantaire. “How in the world do you know what’s in Enjolras’s lease?”

Grantaire just arched an eyebrow. “How do you not know what’s in Enjolras’s lease?”

“That doesn’t even make sense—”

Courfeyrac’s protest was cut off by a sudden burst of frenetic sneezing from Bossuet. “Sorry,” he managed between. “I’m – achoo! – allergic.”

Joly patted Bossuet’s arm sympathetically. “A cat may be a corrective, but in this case, I think Benadryl’s your better bet,” he said with a stifled laugh. “Besides, it’s a black cat, and I’m not sure you need any more bad luck.”

“Maybe you should put the cat back outside,” Grantaire suggested, and when Enjolras and the cat both gave him an affronted look, he shrugged and added, “Unless you’d rather abandon the entire meeting for madness. I’m fine either way.”

Enjolras made a face, looking back down at the cat. “Maybe you’re right,” he said reluctantly. “C’mon, buddy, let’s go outside. I’ll see you after the meeting, how about that?”

He carried the cat out of the room, Grantaire trailing after him, and Courfeyrac let out a light groan, sinking down next to Combeferre, who didn’t even try to hide his ‘I told you so’ look. “You know what I’m thinking?” he asked mildly.

Courfeyrac groaned again and leaned forward to rest his forehead against the table. “That the hairs I pulled off of Grantaire’s hoodie were clearly cat hairs, and that, having read Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets about twenty-five thousand times, I probably should’ve seen this coming?”

Combeferre considered it for a second. “Well, that too.”

Courfeyrac turned his head to squint suspiciously at Combeferre. “What were you thinking?” he asked warily.

Combeferre’s grin was unbearably smug. “Like I said...famous last words.”

“Just you wait,” Courfeyrac said, sitting up. “I will figure out a way to get those two together, or I will die trying.”

Combeferre arched an eyebrow. “That seems a little dramatic, even for you.”

Courfeyrac’s eyes narrowed. “Just you wait. You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

“Well, given your success rate thus far, that certainly is true.”

Courfeyrac elbowed him sharply in the ribs and Combeferre groaned and laughed at the same time. “Worth it,” he muttered, rubbing his ribs, and Courfeyrac stuck his tongue out at him, his mind far away, trying to figure out just what, exactly, he had left to try next.

>>Read chapter 4 here>>

[sitontheground]

#WitchesForBLM

So, I know I don't exactly post much, if at all, but in light of recent events in the US the majority of witches on both tumblr and tik tok have decided that on Friday June 5th, we were all going to be casting spells of protection for the protesters as well as hexing and cursing the cops and the white supremacists who oppose them.

While I am not American (I'm from Canada) nor am I a person of color but I have always been one for activism and fighting for the rights of those whose voices aren't heard or are purposefully silenced. I don't post about it because I don't post much of anything at all. This platform, for me, isn't about making my voice heard but appreciating others' work and words. I also don't particularly care for speaking about my craft much because it is something I find very personal and don't much wish to have others peering in on my personal affairs.

And yet, despite my private nature and lack of desire to post about my activism, I have made the decision to share what I did during the full moon to work this cause into my craft.

For any who have questions or complaints about how I did what I did or why, my craft is my own and I just follow what feels right. If you try and do or say anything to me that I feel is in anyway attacking me and my practice I'm just going to block you. You have no place sticking your nose in my work and I'll not thank you for it.

My Full Moon BLM Support Ritual

As a preface, a lot of the ingredients and items I used were already prepared. Most by happenstance as they are things that I typically keep on hand. The only thing I didn't have in my back pocket before I began was one of the sigils I used.

I also meditated facing the south. Facing the direction of the people I wanted to protect.

Ingredients:

Charged water (I used storm water*)

Charged crystal (I used my fluorite point for the reason that it often amplifies my emotions*)

Needle

Black thread

Orange paper**

Purple paper**

Stick of charcoal (for drawing)

Sigil of protection

Sigil to hex the oppressors

Sachet of protection powder***

Music to increase emotion**** (optional, to be played during both halves of the ritual)

Note: both of the sigils that I used will be shown below

I started when I heard whispers from the witchblr community members that I follow about the full moon being used to help the protesters. That day there was a storm where I live so I was already collecting storm water, but I made sure to separate some for the specific intent of using it on the full moon.

Friday night, I gathered my ingredients and created a sigil for protecting the protesters. I am aware that the eclipse would likely have a negative effect on most protection spells, but the spell I used was one that I created and use without the power of the full moon more often than not. The power of the spell comes entirely from a sacrifice I make for it, which I will explain in more detail later.

Take the storm water, the sigil of protection and the protection powder.

Meditate on the sigil to charge it.

Take a pinch of the powder (A Pinch. You don't need more than that!!!) and sprinkle it in the water.

Swirl the water clockwise 3 times to increase the power of the powder while mixing it in (I had the water in a small Mason jar with a lid so I could swirl it in large movements to incorporate the powder properly without spilling)

Take your right index finger and dip it in the water

Drip 3 drops onto the paper with the sigil

Meditate on the sigil again, focusing on the power of the water sinking into the lines of the sigil

Drink the water with the protection powder to cast the spell

Fold the paper with the sigil on it 3 times, being careful not to rip the wet paper, and leave it in a window or outside until daylight.

Note: the protection powder tastes Bad. Really really really bad. This is why a pinch is more than enough. I usually keep something around to wash the taste out of my mouth when everything is all said and done. This time I used hibiscus water, but usually I use tea.

And that's all there is to the first part of the ritual. Really that can be done at anytime for anyone as long as you have a sigil that corresponds with them.

The next part of this was the part where I actually drew upon the power of the moon.

Take the other sigil, the needle and black thread, and the charged crystal.

Meditate with the crystal in your dominant hand and the hexing sigil in your other focusing on the power that the crystal is feeding into you and pushing it out with your intent through the sigil in order to truly focus the energy you're sending out.

Tear the paper with the sigil on it in until it is in small pieces. As you rend it apart, feel the fire of your anger and the anger of all those fighting for this cause and send it out into the world with every tear in the paper.

Using the needle and the black thread, pierce the center of every piece of the paper until they are all strung up.

Bring all of the pieces together on the string and wrap the thread around the 3 times

Tie a knot in the thread.

Wrap the thread and tie the knot 2 more times.

Cut the thread and cast away the bundle of thread and paper however you see fit (burning, burying, tossing in the trash. whatever works for you)

And that’s that on that. I began my work at midnight on the full moon and when I was finished I was exhausted. I had a headache and my hands were shaking and I just wanted to crawl into my bed so much that I almost forgot to ground myself at the end which would have made everything so much worse the next time I woke. If I were to do it again, and I probably will, I’d make sure to give myself some time in between spells, which I did not in this case. In fact, I’d suggest that if you were to attempt something similar to this you should do them completely separately. However, due to that fact that the moon was in Gemini it felt right for me to complete two spells during it.

And now onto the notes.

*In regards to my choices of charged water and crystal, I have to note that I base my practice by what feels right at the moment. I’ve gone into spells with something in my hand that, by the time I get around to using it during the casting process, it no longer feels like the right tool/ingredient to use and I have gone to find what does feel right, or at least what feels best. The use of storm water has to due with how the chaos and anger that comes from the people on the front lines of this movement feels to me like a storm overhead. They were patient and they brewed this storm for centuries, waiting for us to notice it and do something to lessen the blow that it would cause. But eventually, as all storm must, the thunder rang out and the sweeping gales of wind told everyone just what was going on. Storm water, for this particular variation of my protection spell, seemed very appropriate. I used my fluorite point because whenever I’m working a particularly emotional spell, whether it is my emotion or someone else’s, I use this crystal because it amplifies what I’m feeling and it gives that emotion power.

Also this is my fluorite point.

**As most will suspect, the colors of the paper do signify different things, but if you don’t just happen to have colored paper hanging around white paper would work too. Again this was something that I just figured felt right at the time. I used the purple paper for the protection sigil. Purple, to me, is a regal color that signifies wisdom, power and good fortune. I used the orange paper for the hexing sigil because orange is the most infuriating and aggressive color I could think of (psychologically speaking the color orange is the most likely to send a person into a fit of rage). 

***Alright, so for most of the above I have been rather vague when it comes to the protection powder, but that’s because it is a recipe of my own creation that I have reliably used for a couple of years now and I’m proud of it. It was one of the first things I ever did when I started my craft and I haven’t ever felt like something that I should spread to the masses. Now, however, I don’t feel that same hesitation when it comes to giving the recipe so here it is. 

1 part garlic powder

1 part  cumin

2 parts cinnamon

1 park Himalayan pink salt

1 sprig of cedar, dried and crushed as small as you can make it

When I first made this recipe, I didn’t do anything with it besides mix it all together and put it in a small velvet bag that I got with an old pair of headphones. I soon learned that just mixing together a couple of spices doesn’t exactly create a protection spell and thought it a failure. right as I was about to tear the page with the recipe from my spell book, I decided to meditate on it for a while. That night, I took the little bag with the powder into both of my hands and began to meditate. When I came out of it, I realized that 4 hours had passed by and I could feel the energy from the powder in the bag. So, to make long stories short, you have to key this powder to yourself first. Since then, I have used it as a protection for others by using the same powder that I mixed a couple of years ago that has protected me for that long. I take some of that powder and, using the charged water, I key it to the other that I want to protect, and then by drinking the water I am sacrificing the strength of my protection spell in order to cast one on someone else. This is why I didn’t see an issue doing this spell during the eclipse, which I have read can be a force of undoing. I had no issue casting a hex during the eclipse because I wanted to see the undoing of those that I was trying to hex, but the protection spell will not fail because I didn’t pull on the power of the moon.

****Yes, I listen to music while I work. On the night of the full moon, I was listening to Freedom by Beyoncé ft. Kendrick Lamar on repeat during the whole shebang. When I work, I am incredibly focused, so much that even the slightest disturbance to my balance will send the whole spell crashing down at my feet. If I were to work in silence, a single pin drop could cause me to lose focus and the spell could go awry. So, usually I will put on a single song that reflects the work that I am doing. Either that or I go to ambient-mixer.com and find some background sounds that I can customize and put on for myself. I chose the particular song that I did because both artists are POC angd it sends a message that aligns with the intent of both of these spells.

Sigil of Protection

This one I created myself.

Hexing Sigil

This one I did not create myself. The wonderful ceramyn here on tumblr created it, so this is me crediting her work.