witchhavencommunity:

During the Basic Spellwriting class that Salt hosted tonight on the server, the WAMILY members gathered and constructed a spell together.  This was an amazing team effort and the collaboration produced a simple, yet effective spell.  This is what they came up with!

PURPOSE OF THE SPELL:  

To dream deeply and vividly, and to recall it when you wake.

SPECIAL TIMING:  

During the New Moon; and/or on a Saturday (a day of relaxation.)  Bonus points if you can score a New Moon on a Saturday!  

Each New Moon is a brand new beginning.  It offers the opportunity to make a change, to re-orient yourself, or to conjure a new aspect of yourself and your life into being.  The energy of the new moon is great for initiating a new project or the start of an adventure.  And with it being hidden in darkness, there are parallels drawn between the darker sides of the moon as well as our minds.

ITEMS NEEDED:

• Soft Pajamas: for comfort.
  
• Fluffy Pillow: to rest our head, where dreams happen.
• Cup of tea: to warm and relax our bodies.
• Amethyst: to remove stress, to boost intelligence and promote personality growth, to protect from harmful outside influences, to strengthen memory.
  

SPELLWORK:

1.  On the night of a New Moon (or a Saturday, or both), climb into bed wearing soft pajamas and tea in hand.  Sip your tea and focus your energy on a night of restful sleep.  Think back on the past vivid dreams you have had and the details of them.  You can also set an amethyst by your bedside, under a pillow, or near a window.

2.  When your tea is finished and you are sleepy, read the following incantation, focusing on the mysterious, majestic power of the New Moon.  Visualize its shadows as a cloak that will conceal you.  The New Moon will inspire the start of your adventure in the dreamscape.

3.  Recite the following spell:

I ask the New Moon to allow peaceful and calm rest. 
To the depths of my subconscious, give me access. 
Let the absence of the Moon be my shield and guide, 
and when I wake, let the dreams ever-flow to my mind.

4.  Turn off the lights, rest your head on your pillow, and allow for your dreams to blossom!  In the morning, you should wake and be able to recall the details of the dream.  (We suggest writing them down!)

Thanks to everyone who participated in creating this spell!  You all are amazing and we cannot wait to see what else our WAMILY creates together!

fuck im lonely

Just had an amazing dream. 

So. This is a bit different from my usual crying-about-YOI-posts but like, bare with me. 

I have these dreams- fighting dreams, I call them. They’ve been happening over the last several years. The setting and people are usually different, but the situation is always the same- I’m fighting someone/someones, and although I can beat them up and usually kill them as well, they always come back to life or more come and I have to keep fighting and killing them, to protect someone I love from them. 

I don’t know why they would want to hurt the people I love, but I just know that I can’t let them near my loved ones.

It’s a very… graphic dream. Very bloody, very disturbing. I’ve woken up crying from these sorts of dreams, the images haunting me for the rest of the waking day afterwards. 

The main thing, however, is how it just never stops. It’s a cycle of fighting that tires me out even in my dream, makes me frustrated, but I can’t. stop. because if I did- they would hurt or kill my family and/or friends. So I just spend the entire dream fighting. 

I’ve been working on my mindset and mental state for the last year or so and decided, after a particularly frustrating fighting dream that involved both fighting some Bad DudesTM and dealing with my friends that wouldn’t stay put in the safe place I made for them (so we could be safe in there, away from the Bad DudesTM, instead of me having to fight), to try and figure out what these dreams meant.

So, as I’m sure most of you could probably suss out, it’s about me being frustrated with not being able to control everything. I can, to some degree, as I am always strong enough to fight them, but the fighting never stops, even when I get tired. 

The realization felt good, and I decided to be more active in being mindful of my thoughts regarding trying to control everything, to let myself accept things as they were instead of getting frustrated.

I didn’t have that sort of dream for a while, until last night, or this morning. 

It was a hell of a dream. More vivid than usual, perhaps thanks to the melatonin I took before bed. 

This is already a long post so I’ll get down to it- there was A Lot of fighting this time. I was a proclaimed ‘the Chosen One’ that people from another world wanted to fight, as dying by my hands was considered an honor and killing me would make them something akin to a King or God, I’m not sure. I was a bit busy just trying to fight them all. 

It was brutal, to start with, all blood and gore, until half way through the first group I was just like, ‘you know what? I don’t want to fight. I’m done fighting.’ And they were all like ‘um. What?’ 

but. They stopped fighting. Just,stopped. They didn’t attack my family like I feared, they just were like ‘huh well okay’. 

But. Then more groups came, and I had to keep telling people I wouldn’t fight them- that they had to leave. I was getting increasingly frustrated. 

And then an entire train station appeared on our road, and a whole crowd of people came, spilling over my parents’ property, some of them talking about killing the horses for fun.(I live on a ranch fyi) 

There were too many of them, I was starting to panic. I could fight them, yes, but I couldn’t be everywhere at once, I couldn’t protect the horses andmy family. 

I started yelling at people, swearing at them, telling them to leave. They didn’t try to fight me, but they didn’t really leave either. I asked the Universe for help, because I didn’t know what else do to- I couldn’t go back to fighting, but I couldn’t let them hurt anyone, either.

Then, it came to me. Love.

I had to spread love to them. 

As soon as I calmed down, and stopped yelling and swearing, and instead began to tell people they were loved, and other things from a loving mindset, they changed. Everyone. All these hardened warriors that were talking about killing horses for fun seemed to get… lighter. Happier. Nicer.

They started to smile, to carry the energy I sent out to them so much faster than the yelling at them to leave ever did. They gladly went back to their own worlds, bringing back this energy and spreading it to the others on these fighting planets as well, stopping the fighting. 

I was the ‘Chosen one’, but not for fighting. For ending it. For bringing love. I am not meant for fighting, but forlove. 

This idea isn’t perfect- how can I love someone who is actually physically hurting me? Why would I? Do I always have to be in a loving mindset? I’m still just a human, and that seems pretty high on the ‘not going to happen’ list.

But this idea doesn’t need to be ‘perfect’- it is what I am calling a ‘divinely perfect’ truth (no, I’m not religious, I’m just hard core into the LOA and see reality as fluid so…feel free to ask more more lol). Perfection is not something that will ever truly be reached- as things are always changing, and what might be perfect in one moment won’t necessarily be so in the next.

To spread love and focus on love for others instead of fighting and thinking isn’t the only way- it’s simply divinelyperfect. For most situations, especially ones I routinely deal with, it is ‘perfect’. 

Fighting just hurts both me and the other person/thing/situation, and is an endless cycle of frustration. 

Love, on the other hand, releases me from that cycle, and can inspire the emotion in the receiving party, and then perhaps to even more people. It is so much more powerful in so many ways compared to fighting and hate. It can inspire, it’s warm and comforting, and you can create it so easily, just by yourself, with just a thought. 

Thoughts are very powerful things. They control the reality around us, and choosing to think loving thoughts… To accept things as they are, instead of giving into the cycle of frustration and hate… 

As my dream showed me, love can do so much more good for myself and the world around me compared to my desperate, trying to survive, cycle of fighting. 

Maybe this won’t speak to some as it did to me, and it’s long as heck so it’s totally fine if you don’t get through this all, but I felt inspired to share so. You’re welcome <3 

In any case, TL;DR- my dreams of fighting and frustration over the years were finally brought to an end when I decided to change my thoughts and send love to the enemies instead, prompting me to work on my own thoughts in the waking world when I was dealing with frustrations.

….I just woke up okay xD I’m going to be holding this in my heart for a long time. 

There Is Nothing To Forgive a Braime soulmates one shot

This fic is a twist on the “shared dreams” soulmate trope, where, in my version, the God’s let your soulmate appear in dreams.

Jaime Lannister had never been good with words. All his life they had evaded him, from the time when he was a child and he couldn’t read without a heafty struggle, to his adolescence when he’d attempt to express to Cersei his feelings.

She didn’t care of course. She didn’t want his love, his admiration, and she didn’t care about his words, or lack thereof. All she wanted was his body and the pleasure it could bring her, all she sought was the security of knowing he was hers, under her spell, forever.

So the appearance of anyone speaking to him in dreams was odd. He was visual, and his dreams often came as a bombardment of images, some cruel, some lovely, all powerful, without a word to be gleaned from any of them.

But this night was different.

The dream was simple really, he was there, in the throne room, watching from above like a raven in the rafters, Aerys on the throne, his own white cloak shining. He watched as the mad king laughed, and he could hear the innocent scream as the king shook with wicked, mad laughter. He tightened the grip on his hilt and stepped closer. He could not hear what Aerys was saying, nor could he hear any other words, but he could smell the sickly chemical scent of wildfire and could feel the heat that would surely come from it.

He watched his own hands shake as he took another step up behind the king, all the fear he had felt in that moment evident on his terrified face.

But suddenly, he was not alone as he raised the sword to strike true. A girl, tall and strong, with long blonde hair hanging down her back. She was younger than him, but her eyes glowed like saphires and as she pressed herself against him, she took his hand on the swords hilt in her own, wrapping a warm hand around his, and helping guide the blade.

I understand. Her words materialized in his mind, and she smiled sadly before helping him guide the word into its sheath through Aery’s back.

Forgive me. Never before had he spoken in a dream. Nor had he cared to.

There is nothing to forgive.

She faded before he could get a true glimpse at her face, leaving him alone to claw at the air, before waking bolt upright, alone in the summer night.

—

Actions spoke louder than words, and yet words were what Brienne put stock in. Honor was her pillar of principle, and she believed in any man’s word as she expected them to do in hers.

And so, when a young man’s begging voice pierced the foggy clouds of her dreams one night, begging for help, for forgiveness, and justifying why he killed.

For the innocent. For those he would slaughter. Because if I do not do it, who can?

She felt a strange sense of longing for that voice, for the man who must wield its mighty tone. She let herself drift towards it, it’s words becoming more and more earnest, panicked, even.

Please, mother, father, someone, guide me.

She searched the crevasses of her dream for its source, but as always found no images, only fragments of words. But then, just as she was about to give up, heappeared.

Forgive me.

The boy was behind the mad king, drawing his sword, tears gathered in his eyes. And suddenly, Brienne was there too. One look at the boy and she knew what he needed. She wrapped her hand around his, and pressed herself gently beside him, taking on the burden of the blade and the sentence it was about to deal. She knew how this story would end.

The sword pierced.

There is nothing to forgive.

All was warm and light was everywhere for a moment, and then it became too much and she awoke, sweating and panting in the summer night air.

Soul dreams are a thing of the distant past. I am no fool. She repeated the sentiment over and over, across years as she travelled lands and seas, and came to the service of Renly Baratheon. Finally, she had stopped thinking about the boy, the Kingslayer, with whom she had shared a dream unlike any other.

Until the night she dreamt of the shadow.

Though she could not see it, she could feel the cool air sweep through the tent, and could feel the hair on her arms stand up. She felt her heart hammer in her chest, and her blood run frozen.

No. No. Please no. Do not make me watch this again.

Renly was dead a week, and yet she could not sleep without watching it play out, over and over again. Perhaps I am the Kingslayer.

You are not.

Suddenly she could see again, and there he was. Older now, but without mistake: Jaime Lannister.

It takes one to know one, and it is not you.

It was his phantom turn to come closer, to warm her against the chill.

How can I ever forgive myself? She wept as Renly before her died once again, and her heart felt as if it were frozen to ice.

There is nothing to forgive.

Her heart beat fast and she turned to see his face.

But he was gone. And she left alone in her bedroll in Catelyn Starks tent.

—

There is nothing to forgive.

Jaime repeated the words his golden haired maiden had once offered him so many years ago. He prayed it would bring her the same solace it brought him.

He had heard of soul dreams, of the most ancient and purest loves, ones which the gods themselves were invested in. Ones for whom the soul was so tightly bound that they could, when direly necessary, appear in dreams.

But he didn’t believe it. Rather, he believed that as comfort had been offered to him, so would he offer it. For some reason. He couldn’t quite place why, but something had compelled him to speak to her, to comfort her, despite not even knowing if she was real, or just a figment of his imagination.

He thought about it a lot on the road to Kingslanding, as him and Brienne walked in silence. There was something in the way she looked at him, this odd familiarity, overshadowed by anger and confusion. It made him wonder a great deal about what she knew of him. It was not an expression he was used to being on the receiving end of.

—

To Brienne’s chagrin, Jaime did not appear in her dreams after the night he lost his hand. Despite the fact that she so sincerely blamed herself for it.

But as they stared at one another at the bathhouse, and he suddenly, inexplicably began to speak, something in her chest thrummed.

“I know, Ser Jaime.” She said, before he had fully begun the explanation of why he killed Aerys. “You did it for the people, for the innocents. If you didn’t, who could?”

His face went slack and his jaw hung loose, eyes fixed on hers as they simultaneously put the pieces together. In unison they spoke their next words carefully.

“There is nothing forgive.”

~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading!!!! I am so happy to be back, and I hope to write a lot more in the coming weeks. Pleaaaaaaaaase send me any suggestions or promps you might have, or if you’d like to see more continuations of any of my work lmk!!!! As always, PM me if you want to be added or removed from the tag list :) Love you all xx, Bea

Tag list: @b00kworm@sassbewitchedmyass@onlyjaimebrienne@nashilena@oathbreaker-oathkeeper@averageinside@itsclaucueva@briennexofxtarth@slytherinoftarth@ladyem-fandom@afittingdistraction@ben-roll-io@marasjadesfire@paceofbase@hotarukuro

My First Wet Dream

It’s been over 100 days. I had my first wet dream ever last night. I had the same dream as before (it’s been on my mind a lot these last few days) only this time, My Love was teasing me, stroking me gently with one hand, while she was focusing on the other guys cock. He was getting most of her attention. She was jacking him and blowing him while I stood to the side, getting light touches. I started to cum, and that’s when I woke up.

I awoke to a weird feeling, I was cumming hands free into my underwear. I made a huge mess, it was warm and sticky, but I was still extremely turned on. It felt like a ruined orgasm. I guess after so long my body had to expel somehow.

I had to tell My Love about it this morning. I was not fully honest, I left out the cuckholding dream, but I did tell her about my accident. She knew I couldn’t help it, and said “maybe I left you for too long”. I’ll take care of you". I told her I was fine, and that I locked back up this morning. Something like that has never happened before. It was a strange experience to say the least.

Strange Cuckholding Dream

I think this very long denial period is starting to give me some strange dreams and thoughts.

I dreamed of My Love sitting in the floor between the legs of another man. She was rubbing his (much larger than I) cock and looking at me teasing me about it. She said “now this is a nice dick, so much bigger and better than yours.” She started to blow him as well.

I woke up not mad or upset or jealous, but super horny. This is a new feeling. I’ve never been into cuckholding or small penis humiliation before, but I can tell you, I was super excited about it when I woke up.

The only time I’ve ever felt this way was just a few days ago (which might have contributed to having the dream). We stopped for gas. I pumped and she went into the store. When she got back in the car, she said with a smile “there was a young guy Checking out my ass in these yoga pants”.

I stirred a little in my own pants after she said it. I brushed it off as confusion. Could I really have gotten horny thinking of another guy checking out my wife? Nah I said to myself.

Now I’m not so sure. I’m not sure I should even tell My Love about it. We have talked about cuckholding in the past, and it was a quick discussion resulting in “No” on both our parts. But I guess sex is ever changing, so who knows.

while the galloping black stallion has not reappeared, a little black spider has

I had a dream, this one had a song. I forgot most of it almost immediately but I remember that it was a villain song about cannibalism, it was fairly close to 2 “the cog is dead” songs, its instrumental was closest to “burn it down” and its vocals were closest to “the death of the cog”. I also remember a bit of one lyric “-knives on my rack!”. the first thing I thought when I woke up was “damn, that was a good villain song”, the next was “damn, I just forgot that entire villain song”. I dimly remember the singer being all polygonal, paper white, clawed hands, tusks, and they may-or-may-not be eyeless. they had clothes but I can’t remember them. if anyone tries to remake it that is just FINE by me.