doorways in the sand

Threshold magic 101

Doorways are one of the first concepts we learn as we begin to explore our surroundings as infants. In those early memories doorways are magical passages dividing entire worlds in our perceptions. We pass through into new places with entirely different obstacles and experiences to encounter.

As we age, we grow more accustomed to the idea of different rooms and separations of space. Even without a proper door separating them we define spaces by their function and even without a physical barrier between them we acknowledge them as separate and distinct. For an example, consider the layout of a studio apartment, the kitchen, dining room and living room are, functionally one room, and yet people gather in distinct groups in each section of the space, separating themselves into “rooms” with no actual barriers except those imagined by those present.

The Romans had a god, Janus, whose entire domain was doorways, the transition between spaces and spans of time. The first month of the year was named for him as it was the transition between years.

The most instinctive spatial transition is that between one’s home and the outside world. The territorial sanctity of home is a spiritually powerful concept. it protects us just as our homes do. The most direct manifestation of this power is the phenomena of thresholds.

Mythology is filled with creatures which cannot enter a person’s home without their express permission and invitation. From vampires, to demons, to fairies, everything needs permission from the homeowner to enter. in a more modern context, many practitioners report feeling weaker if they enter someone else’s home uninvited.

This is a threshold, a spiritual barrier between us and the outside world. Those who cross it uninvited leave a great deal of their power behind them, so much so that some creatures cannot survive the experience.

While thresholds fall under what would normally be considered “passive” of “innate” magic, there are ways to consciously strengthen, build off, or direct the energy of your threshold to better protect you and your family.

Strengthening:

A threshold can be strengthened in a number of ways. The simplest way is to enhance your sense of home, filling your home with things which are uniquely yours, which hold sentiment or meaning for you personally, and spending time getting your home comfortable and familiar will build up your threshold over time.

Another method is through active warding. Wreaths were an early form of warding charm hung in doorways to drive off evil and malicious spirits. Honeysuckle, St. John’s wart, Rowan, oak, Birch, and Yarrow hung above, in, or beside the doorway will add energies of purification and protection. an Iron nail driven into the door frame combines the warding power of iron, and the tranquil aspects of the rune Isa, which the nail resembles. Daggaz and ing, either painted, scratched or inscribed in a doorway bring luck and safety to those within.

Some witches like to seal their homes by painting pentacles above the major openings, including doors and windows, using either actual paint, or some variety of holy water/oil, or putting lines of salt or blessed sand along the doorways and window sills. This method has the disadvantage of being easily physically disrupted, although some industrious witches have been known to protect such lines by placing them under the metal strips which smooth the transition between the door frame and the floor.

Another method is to hang amulets in the door frame bearing symbols for protection. These can be as simple as a painted piece of paper, or as elaborate as a cast silver charm.  Another example is Amish Hex signs. A six petaled flower or 6 pointed star, represents preservation and continuity for the home, a rooster represents a watchful guardian, and a jagged circle represents the power of thurisaz to drive away evil and disruptive energies.

Building upon:

A threshold is a solid foundation for any magic which is intended to effect the home, or everyone who enters the home.  Such spells work based on the principal of the threshold as not being just a barrier, but a portal which must be passed through.

One use for magic of this kind is to ward against a particular person or type of entity. to do this it is useful to use materials and objects known to be harmful or hateful to that entity. (garlic for vampires, iron for fairies, things the person is allergic to, audio tape containing music they hate, etc.) As was mentioned before, placing these things in, on, or near the doorway is an effective method, but this may not always be convenient or practical. In this case, using them in a ritual to charge another object, such as a stone a piece of wood, or an ornament which can be attached less obtrusively is perfectly acceptable.

Another use is to place spells upon those who come and go through the door. Spells to encourage health, prosperity, peacefulness and joy are common choices. for these uses it’s best to use an object or material which is associated with your desired outcome, and place it in or above the door frame. Traditionally horseshoes were hung in this way to pour luck on those who entered. This is another situation where amulets hung in doorway can be useful, particularly if people are willing to touch or handle the objects as they come through.

A slightly sneakier method might be to paint or inscribe a spell into the door handle, so that a person HAS to handle it to enter, or building your spell to be charged and renewed by the act of using the knocker or doorbell, if it’s intended to drive off unwanted guests, or help visitors.

Directing the threshold:

The threshold, like any other magic, can be channeled and directed. The most common use would be directing the threshold’s protections to include or exclude a particular person, either helping guests feel comfortable and “at home” or making a resident feel unwelcome and vulnerable in their own home. This is most easily done by the homeowner, or head of household, The person with the most authority within the home, and is typically linked to their will, though an explicit statement of intent from this person goes a long way.

Another means of warping the threshold is to have objects or tokens which can be carried outside, bringing a bit of home with you, and therefore bringing a bit of the protection of home as well. This can be tricky, usually requiring some degree of sympathetic magic and thaumaturgy (ie. the use of a small part of a thing to represent the entire thing such as using a chip from the fireplace bricks to represent the hearth, or a shaving of wood from a doorframe to represent the door itself,) typically these tokens are either single use, or must be maintained by restoring them as part of the home upon the person’s return. Removable tiles from a floor mosaic, or a distinctive knob from the cabinets work well for this purpose, as they are small, unique, and easily reattached.

Sea Witchcraft

Anchovies
Ruler: sea goddess
Powers; attract beauty, subduction, make your self beautiful

Coral
Ruler: Venus, Neptune
Powers: emotions. Unconscious, white coral opens subconscious/ vivid dreams, pink coral emotional healing, red coral passions, give it as a gift of love.

Crab
Ruler: Venus
Power: eat crab meat to protect the home, use the shell in real estate magic, stuff the empty shell with lavender and sage to protect your dwelling. When renting fill the shell with cinnamon sticks, bay leaves, and sea salt.

Fish:
Ruler: Christ, Neptune, Venus, ocean deities
Powers: fish eyes are protective, eat them to invoke magic, cook and eat the whole fish while visualizing protection/ prosperity. Draw fish on parchment or formed out if metal to create talismans. Carry a coin with the image of fish on it for wealth. Use the skin of fish in fertility magic.

Oyster
Ruler: Neptune, Venus
Powers: aphrodisiac, female genitals, increase orgasm, men eat them to make themselves better lovers, fertility.

Salt
Ruler: earth
Power: sacred substance of the earth, prosperity, add some to dark leafy greens to increase your income. Cleansing, sprinkle around the four corners of the room and add to baths to protect and dispel evil. Create sacred areas with salt,
Sprinkle black salt on doorways to keep away undesirable influences.

Sand
Ruler: ocean deities
Salt represents the multitude of possibilities. One grain of sand represents Uniqueness, a handful sand represents the great influence wielded by like-minded people. Brace added to the home when you want to attract a group of people to share your same interest. Place it in a dish and burn incense on it. Hold sand in your hands to open possibilities and more options in your life. Build sand castles to make dreams come true. Wet sad helps to ground and realized potential colored sand brings verity to life.

Sardine
Ruler: ocean goddess
Power: beauty, seduction, eat them smoked with mustard to sharpen your best features.

Sea weed
Ruler; Neptune, Venus
Power: eat it for prosperity, scrub seaweed on your skin in the ocean to bring good luck. Leads to excellent employment opportunity.

Sea horse
Ruler: Venus
Power: talisman for luck and love, understanding, acceptance, emotional well being


Sponge
Ruler: moon, Venus
Power: loofa for beauty/ love spells, cleansing negative emotions, release anger

Water
Ruler: Venus, Neptune, moon
Powers: dreams, feelings, cleansing, love, healing, protection, prosperity.

Sacred waters: rain, spring, salt water , holy water, Florida water, consecrated water,

Moon Goddess loose incense
6 benzoin
3 onion skins
1 1/2 allspice
1 1/2 camphor
½ poppy
1 1/4 olive oil

Grind together then burn on a charcoal disk.

Moon incense
1 willow
½ reed
¼ cucumber
1 3/4 water
½ water lily
½ jasmine

Grind all ingredients together to form a past then sculpt small cones. Then let it dry for 2 weeks.


Lunar Oil
4 pt sandalwood
2 pt camphor
1 pt lemon

Mix and Add to career oil , use during lunar rites.

Water oil
3 drops palmarosa
2 drops ylang-ylang
1 drop jasmine

Wear to promote love, healing, psychic awareness, purification.

Floor wash:
Protection wash

The floor wash includes ingredients meant to help Clean and purify home and promote peaceful happy feelings through open your windows while you wash down the house with this blend and finish up by burning protection incense.

2 pt rosemary
2 pt basil
2 large bay leaves
2 pt ginger
2 pt sea salt
1 pt dried garlic
1 pt black pepper

Pour hot water over the herbs for 10 to 15 minutes drain water into the bucket and add warm tapwater and a cleansing product of your choice.

Use to clean your floors, window seals, door frames

Ritual baths:

Sea witch bath
3 pt lotus bouquet
2 pt lavender
1 pt rosemary
Color: dark blue

+
3 pt Epsom salts
2 pt baking soda
1 pt table salt (or borax)

Add a bit of sea salt to this base. Bathe in the sea witches bath for gentle purification prior to magical works.

Water element bath

2pt palmarose
1 pt sandalwood
1 pt myrrh
1 pt geranium
Color dark blue
+
3 pt Epsom salts
2 pt baking soda
1 pt table salt (or borax)

Aquariums
Thought to prosperity and ward the home from bad luck and accidents, not to mention all the energy they bring in to your life. Watching fish swim can lower blood pressure.

Hag stones
A stone with a naturally made hole going through it, also known as adder stones/ witch stones. Hang them above the door way to promote milk from curtailing. Look through the hole to see the unseen, wear as a protection amulet, the more holes the more realities the stone holds. The stone is formed by water and moving currents.


My sources used in this post.
[kris Bradley, Scott Cunningham, Steven Smith, Lexa Roséan]

Memory 2/2

Second half of my week 6 prompt. 

Find part one here.

Look for the cut!


Tony woke in his bunk. The boat wasn’t just rocking up and down, side-to-side, it was spinning. He was cold and too exhausted to shiver, and he hadn’t zipped the bag up before falling asleep. His left side was even colder than his right, almost numb from his elbow to his shoulder. He struggled to get his arm back into the bag, but he couldn’t reach up to catch the zipper.

“Mr. Stark,” a gravelly voice intruded.

Tony was startled by the voice, but only long after the chance for an appropriate reaction had passed. He twisted to look up the captain. Man looked bigger than ever, or Tony felt smaller than ever. His eyes were very blue against the deeply lined leather of his skin, and he had surprisingly long lashes.

“You need to see the physician,” the captain said firmly.

If there was anything Tony was truly startled about, it was that he’d woken in his own bunk and hadn’t just been taken to medbay while unconscious. He couldn’t remember anything after finding Steve in the ice. Finally, finally finding Steve in the ice.

“Where’s St-… Captain America? Where is he?” Tony asked, more than half dreading being told that it was all a dream, that he’d missed the expedition and they hadn’t found anything anyways.

The captain pursed his chapped lips. The motion made his whiskers bristle out like an annoyed cat. Tony tried to laugh, but the only thing he managed was a vague vibration against his chest. He pulled his knees up slowly, ignored the pain in his hips, and fought to kick out of the sleeping bag.

“Where is he?” he repeated.

Shaking his head, the captain said, “He’s in lab 2. Mr. Stark… Just go to the medbay.”

“No,” Tony said with no heat. He couldn’t muster up the energy for heat, didn’t have a warm molecule in his body. He stumbled off the bunk, and expected the captain to help him stand, but he didn’t. The giant man stood and crossed his arms over his chest. Tony caught the bulkhead and looked at him, but he only shook his grizzly head.

That was fine. It wasn’t like he hadn’t struggled down a hallway by himself before.

(Had Steve carried him out of a building? He thought so, remembered in kaleidoscope fragments being insensible on the floor, the scent of smoke, Captain America’s arms supporting his knees and back. He remembered being carried down a fire escape.

He remembered Steve stepping into his arms and the two of them flying off together. Steve’s weight low on his spine as he flew with Captain America on his back. The sound of Steve’s voice, whooping in childish joy and urging him faster.

He remembered crawling on his knees through his room, shedding pieces of the armor as he went, feet away from the nearest outlet. It might as well have been miles, and there were people just down the hall. Steve, Jan, Hank, Thor – No, Steve, Clint, Natasha, Thor. All he had to do was shout and someone would come to help him across the last few feet to the outlet. He’d crawled on his own, and reached the outlet just in time, just like a dozen other times.)

There was no arc reactor in his chest, but he felt heavy all the same, like he needed a charging port. His joints ached. He pinballed down the corridor, avoiding the shadowy forms of crewmen who had names (everyone did) but he couldn’t remember them.

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Oh Fuck (Part 1)

Prompt: “You’re absolutely in love with him and have been for at least 2 years if you don’t go tell him how you feel I swear to god I will” by @writing-prompt-s (17 from this post)

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader

Summary: You’ve been given a week to confess your feelings. Unfortunately, you seem to be an utter coward when it comes to love.

Tags: fluff, light-hearted angst (what else do I know???)

Notes: I’m a terrible human and I’m not even going to apologise for how long it takes for me to write, like honey ik… ik. Also, I should be commended for not using ‘YEET’ because there were at least 3 places where I could’ve. There’s gonna be a second part to see what happens 😝

Word Count: 1,476

Part 2

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anonymous asked:

Do you have a list of YA books that don't feature romance as a main plot, only as a minor/background sub-plot involving other characters? As an aromantic and asexual teenage girl, it would be really nice to read a book in which it isn't the main focus and not feel like a freak of nature for once. Thanks!

Editor of YA Interrobang here! First of all, you should never - ever - feel like a freak of nature. Half of Team Interrobang is on the asexual spectrum, including me, and there are plenty of authors who are asexual or aromantic or both, even if it’s not something they actively discuss. (Take Katie Locke, for instance, an author on the asexual spectrum whose debut YA novel hits shelves next year.) You are not alone, and you are no more a freak than I am.

But time to answer your actual question! Here are some books with as little romance as possible or no romance:
- A Thousand Nights by E.K. Johnston
- Vessel by Sarah Beth Durst
- The Lie Tree by Frances Hardinge
- Archivist Wasp by Nicole Korhner Stace
- Tunnel Vision by Susan Adrian
- Seven Second Delay by Tom Easton
- The Walls Around Us by Nova Ren Suma
- The Rithmatist by Brandon Sanderson
- Me and Earl and the Dying Girl by Jesse Andrews
- This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab
- A Study in Charlotte by Brittany Cavallaro
- Radio Silence by Alice Oseman (out in UK now, releases in US in March 2017)
- On the Edge of Gone by Corinne Duyvis
- I Am Princess X by Cherie Priest
- Iris and the Tiger by Leanne Hall
- Lucy and Linh by Alice Pung (releases in September)
- Challenger Deep by Neal Shusterman
- The Fixer by Jennifer Lynn Barnes
- Rose Under Fire by Elizabeth Wein
- Nobody’s Princess by Esther Friesner
- You’re Welcome, Universe by Whitney Gardner (releases 2017)
- and many, many more, but if I keep going my fingers will break

Here are some books with specifically asexual characters:
- This Song Is Not For You by Laura Rawlin
- Fourth World by Lyssa Chiavari
- Ultraviolet + Quicksilver by R.J. Anderson
- The Beast of Callaire by Saruuh Kelsey
- Make Much of Me by Kayla Bashe
- Deadly Sweet Lies by Erica Cameron
- We Awaken by Calista Lynne
- As Autumn Leaves by Kate Sands
- Every Heart A Doorway by Seanan McGuire (a personal favorite)
- We Go Forward by Alison Evans
- Tash Hearts Tolstoy by Kathryn Ormsbee (releases 2017)

Tristina Wright’s 27 Hours, which releases in 2017, has a character that is both asexual AND aromantic.

And here are posts on YA Interrobang that may be of interest to you:
- Calista Lynne talks about sexual representation in YA
- Adrianne Strickland talks writing as a genderqueer asexual
- Julie Daly talks asexual representation in YA (with recs)

Happy reading!
- Nicole ( @nebrinkley ), editor

I just had the thought of Tony in a Captain America snuggie — one that he got custom made (of course). Just sitting down and relaxing in it, watching Saturday morning cartoons with a huge bowl of ceral in his lap as part of his normal, super secret Saturday morning routine. 

And then Steve coming home from his run an hour early, swinging open the door and Tony just leaping off the couch to try and hide himself, but tripping over the snuggie and just lying there bunched up like an accidental burrito, unable to get up when Steve just sands in the doorway and stares at him confused wondering how odd that sight is – yet how adorable. 

5

Cold Room/Root Cellar

We’ve retrofitted an already cold, north facing room of our cottage to act as a cold storage area for fruits, vegetables, preserves, ferments etc. A place to store our harvests.
Light is excluded, the room insulated, a cold air source is piped into the room from outside. The flooring is tiled and we have a marble countertop which stays super cool. The temperature stays around 0°C - 6°C with a humidity reading of between 80 - 95 %Cold Room/Root Cellar

I wish I didn’t feel so empty.
—  I postured my heart to envelope kisses I couldn’t seal in the back pocket of happiness to write a line of dreams we let dry in the rain. Sometimes I have dreams of kissing the doorways you’ve walked through. Sometimes I keep the sand from your touch to have something fall through my hands at goodnight. Sometimes there isn’t enough left of the bridge to rebuild from, but the stars keep shining because you’re made of wishes I haven’t met yet, and the only thing brighter than the night is your smile. We’ve hid in the clouds for so long, the seasons can’t find the vein we last missed. Every day is a song that pleads with strength I don’t have to hurt. But, I don’t need poetry to tell you your heart is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever held.
NCT THEORIES ??

I built my theories based on @andthenkpophappened‘s theories (x) and @jenosgf‘s theories (x) !! I suggest reading their theories first before mine

My theories are also ultimately built on the idea that everything is just a dream, so I’ve gathered some stuff as well as analyzed things through a dream interpretation point of view. I honestly tried answering some questions but really, I made some more lol rip…

1: SM_NCT # 1. The Origin

  • The first thing we see is an hour glass, but instead of two bulbs like usual, there are three. This could hint towards the notion already addressed that this story does not follow Earth time.
  • The very next peculiar thing we see is a red moon/a blood moon. In dreams, blood moons usually mean, or are associated with fear of the future; of the unknown. (Perhaps fear of what could happen once they realize that everything is just a dream?)
  • The little boy plants a red flag. Red flags are usually warnings signs about danger or a problem. It could also be a symbol of a revolution. 
  • After the little boy draws on a piece of paper with charcoal, three mountains, a moon, and an ocean, we see glimpses of him standing in what looks to be a field of tall grass. Dreaming of tall grass is a warning to the dreamer to not become entangled in unreal ideas, and bring order to thoughts and behavioural patterns (just like jumping from one dream to another). It can also mean illusions and unattainable hopes. 
  • A woman appears behind him, in my opinion, could be his mother. 
  • She extends her hand and makes him choose between three colours, 

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anonymous asked:

There's this scenario in my head where after the gigantic sand castle is built (from the Sand Castle short), Fushimi goes to further inspect it at night while everyone's asleep. He's just entered the castle when he suddenly notices Munakata by the entrance. Munakata offers that they explore the castle together, and for some reason even unknown to Fushimi himself, he agrees. Besides the sand castle, what do you think they'll talk about?

Oops I fic’d.

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fra-tell-em  asked:

This is super cliché and I apologize but would you be able to write an au of what would happen if Nux managed to survive the crash and came walking into Citadel all banged up and went and found Capable? I need closure, oh my word, do I need closure 😭

Haha I fixed the ending of Mad Max: Fury Road for you! Thank you so much for the prompt: I’ve been really wanting to do this one. I hope you like it and I’m sorry it took so long. I had work all day.

J

—-

               The world came back to him first in feeling, and then in sound. The dull ache of the sun beating down on his face didn’t wake him up much. He was too deep into the dark place to be pulled out. Nux couldn’t feel his legs, and the numbness was spreading up along his spine, trickling into his blood and turning him cold. He couldn’t imagine opening his eyes, standing up or really moving at all.

He wasn’t completely sure if he was alive until he heard the crackling of flames, angry flames feeding on guzzoline, and the unmistakable clatter of a fender breaking off a vehicle.

He felt sleepy, but there was a sinister edge to his drowsiness. Somewhere between conscious thought and animal instinct Nux realized that if drifted off into sleep, he would fall into the long sleep that he would never awaken from. The idea was tempting though.

Nothing hurt in his sleep. No hunger, no thirst, nothing.

Nux had earned his rest. He wasn’t sure if Valhalla would welcome him, or if it was there at all. Those illusions died with the Immortan. But Nux had earned his death.

Yet he couldn’t slip into the darkness. Not quite yet.

What bothered Nux is that he couldn’t quite place why he had restlessness.

He had driven the war rig. He had died heroic on the Fury Road. Nux had seen enough adventure, guzzoline and death to last him a lifetime, but here he was: halfway between the long sleep, the peaceful sleep, and the unforgiving irradiated desert.

Why was he wavering?

He saw a flash of red, his own blood, but all he could think about was how perfectly the shade of his life-blood matched Capable’s hair.  He blinked sand out of his eyes and tried to move his fingers.

Searing heat coursed through his veins and burned hotter than any engine he’d ever laid hands on. He would have grimaced if he could relearn how to move his face, and moan if his vocal cords hadn’t dried to leather in the scorching sun.

He twitched his fingers once more, and the pain was more manageable the second time around. Nux shifted and everything went white with pain. When his vision returned, he become acutely aware of how much everything hurt. Now that he was moving, now that he was choosing to live, the pain was everywhere.

Nux heard a broken sound, a whimper from somewhere in the wreckage and he raised himself up on his elbows to get a clear view. He felt blood trickle into his eyes and he blinked it away.

There was nothing around him except the remains of the great war rig, fire and Rictus’ arm.  Nux wasn’t sure where the rest of Rictus was, but it was probably dead. Rictus was almost a perfect heir, but his lungs were shrivelled. Without the oxygen canisters he would suffocate.

Nux surveyed the Pass once more. He had rolled the rig fantastically. It blocked off the narrow pass without a single gap.

Nux leaned on his right arm and that mewling came again.

It took him a long moment to realize that the broken noise had come from him. His arm lay at his side, useless and hanging at an angle it should not be hanging at. Nux squinted through the sand and blood in his eyes to look out onto the desert.

Lucky was an understatement.

He was alive. That in itself was beyond lucky.

Manifest Destiny, maybe.

And the fact he had been thrown clear of the wreckage, thrown across the pass and back into Immortan Joe’s territory, was nothing short of a miracle. It was probably Furiosa’s territory now, Nux reasoned, with the half of the Immortan’s face decorating the underside of that buggy. The dead had no place claiming the land of the living.

The Masters of the Pass were probably quite displeased with the carnage, but after all the chaos they wouldn’t dare trespass on Furiosa’s land. Not after she had the guts to ride headfirst into the Immortan’s army and then drive out again carrying the warlord’s corpse as her trophy.

Nux struggled to his feet and blanched when a wave of nausea overtook him. He fell back to his knees and retched. His vomit was more blood than anything and he didn’t know much about taking care of his body, but he knew that when your blood was on the outside instead of the inside, you were in trouble.

Nux got back on his feet and realized that if he wanted to, he could lay down again and the long sleep would take him still.

He shook his head and saw splotches and stars in his vision.

No way.

He wanted to see the Green Place first, and hoped that there he would find a bit of auburn hair there. The desert stretched on beyond what his swollen eyes could see, but Nux had the sun still. The white clay coat he wore warded off the deadly sunburns, and now the sun offered Nux a faint idea of where he stood in the wasteland.

He survived Immortan Joe. He would survive this too.

While driving, the desert always passed by in one continuous blur of brown. The dunes rolled past him like waves and no distance was too far. Now on foot, Nux had such appreciation for the power the wheel gave him.

He spent so long staggering through that desert that he could name and get to know every single sand dune personally. When the great hulk of the Citadel rose before him, Nux couldn’t help a large smile that started on his face. He felt his lip bust open. The dryness of the sun and his own dehydration made his skin crack.

The warpups let him up the lift with no trouble. The Immortan’s broken son, the little one who’s legs were too short and didn’t work sent him a filthy glare but let him up without question.

Furiosa stood in the doorframe, staring at the frail warboy. He must have looked like a ghost with his bloody clay and sunken eyes bruised black from when his face slammed into the wheel. She gestured him over and her mechanical arm whirred and clucked before it settled into smoother motion.

Nux stumbled over and came to a halt when she raised her hand.

“How?”

Nux licked his lips and tasted blood. “I don’t know. I think Valhalla didn’t want me.”

Furiosa looked him over and a smile ghosted her lips. “Valhalla would be foolish to close its doors to you. Maybe today was just not your day.”

Nux ducked his head. “Thank you, Imperator.”

“I’m sure you want to see the others? Toast, Dag, Cheedo, Capable?”

Nux raised his head and smiled toothily. His teeth were red with blood. “I do. But I also think I’m going to die?”

Furiosa chuckled and called out to a passing warpup. “Boy, the Organic Mech. Here now.” Furiosa turned back to Nux. “They’re not here yet.”

“Where are they?”

“Out. Looking for you. Well, not Max. Max is gone.”

“They went back?” Nux noticed the Imperator’s lip harden.

“Of course. We couldn’t just leave you.”

“It’s a waste of guzzoline.” Nux muttered and kicked at the ground. The toe of his boot was starting to come off and it got caught every time he took a step.

“We all thought it was worth the gas.” Furiosa ran her organic hand through her hair and let out a long sigh. She softened. “None of us counted on you dragging your own corpse home on your own. What’s broken?”

Nux paused and took stock of his injuries. “Everything, I think.”

Nux wasn’t sure where to go from here. Everything he had known was gone. Dead and crashed just inside that narrow pass where it was burning up into nothing.

Capable burst through the doors. Tears streaming down her face and threw herself into him. Nux couldn’t remember what happened next because the pain made him black out, but when he surfaced back to consciousness Capable was kissing his cheeks and crushing him in her arms.

“N-nux,” She managed between sobs. “I thought you were leaving, warboy?”

“I never got to see the Green Place. I wanted to stay a bit more for that. And I didn’t have any chrome on my teeth. Didn’t feel right leaving for Valhalla without my chrome.”

She laughed and stuck her face into Nux’s shoulder and stayed there for a long while until her shuddering breaths calmed and Nux couldn’t feel her tears dripping onto his chest. Nux wrapped one arm around her wordlessly, like all the times he would in the back of Furiosa’s war rig, and like all those times before Capable settled into his embrace. She didn’t doze off to sleep this time around though. She stayed awake and clutched at Nux’s good arm while the Organic Mechanic worked on the shattered one.

When the silence was too heavy, Capable would talk in soft, lilting tones about the wreckage of the pass. How they had gotten there and found Rictus, all tangled up under the war rig, and then blood. Nothing of him, nothing of Nux except blood and Capable whispered, in a voice so soft that Nux could only hear it because her mouth was next to his ear, that she thought that the Masters of the Pass had taken him away and eaten him.

Nux normally would have laughed at that. Who would eat a scrawny warboy with irradiated blood and company like Larry and Barry? He didn’t laugh. Instead he let her curl up in his lap and told her about the walk back, and his favourite sand dunes.

Through the wide doorway he saw the other women peer in before vanishing out of sight. They would send him his welcomes later.

Nux had his head resting on Capable’s head and was content to stay there and just look at her hair. He’d never had any. No matter how far back he remembered, it was shorn off his head. Just within the last few years it stopped growing back at all, courtesy of Larry and Barry. That didn’t bother him much. Capable had enough hair for the both of them.

Capable was colour through and through. Her hair, red as blood, kept catching his eye. She wore deep greens and bright golds that made Nux question his love of chrome. Chrome was silver and cold, but Capable was vibrant and alive.

Nux found his hands rubbing against the white clay of his skin and for the first time in his life didn’t want to wear clay as white as bleached bone.

Black and red wasn’t oil and blood anymore. Now it was soil and life.

Sand, everywhere (Anakin Skywalker Imagine)

“Y/N!” Anakin yelled, causing you to cover your mouth so he wouldn’t hear you laugh. It was Anakin’s birthday, and as his (secret) girlfriend, you had decided to surprise him. By filling his whole entire room up with sand so only his hand was above the course surface. 

“Yes Ani?” you grinned, poking your head through the doorway to see him trying to shovel his way out. Sand was still in his hair, covering his clothes, and making his room look like an abandoned tomb in the middle of nowhere. 

“What type of a birthday gift is this?” he whined, making your roll your eyes. Sometimes you wished that you could actually hit him with a lightsaber just so that he’d shut up. 

“It’s the gift from your girlfriend, because I’m an amazing and wonderful human being,” you laughed, digging your way through the room so you could sit next to him on his sand covered mattress. “It’s not my only gift though,” you pull out a plate from behind your back, a small chocolate cupcake sitting on it. Anakin smiled, settling down beside you after finding a comfortable spot on the sandy bed. You handed him the plate, trying not to laugh as you watch the expression on his face. 

“Did you seriously write ‘SAND’ in big letters on my cupcake?”

“I thought you loved sand,” you spoke sarcastically, causing him to lightly punch you in the shoulder. “Happy Birthday Ani,” you smiled, looking up at the man you loved. Anakin put the cupcake down on a mound of sand acting as a table, and leaned down pressing his lips to yours. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment as he pulled away, looking at you like he was seeing the sky for the first time. 

“I’m so madly in love with you, I won’t murder you for getting me sand,” he grinned, wrapping his arm around you as you laid your head on his chest. 

“I love you too. And I’m still getting you sand for your next birthday.”

“I somehow still love you Y/N.”

Surely Heaven Waits For You

(on AO3)

Dean opens his eyes to a brightness. It surrounds him all encompassing, glowing and he squints, shielding his eyes; trying to see where he is. He can’t see anything at all, just bright, white light. He feels like he’s looking into the sun or an angel’s lost grace. There’s an odd sort of calmness that hovers around him when the light brushes against his skin and he feels peaceful.

Dean wonders if he’s dreaming, he must be.

He closes his eyes, squeezing them shut as tightly as possible. He waits for a few seconds, willing himself to wake up. Dean reopens his eyes and nope, still too bright. Maybe he’s not dreaming?

“Sammy? Cas?” Dean yells, panic starting to flood his body. If he’s… wherever the fuck he is, where’s Sam and Cas?

“Hello?!” Dean yells again, straining his ears to listen for any sort of response.

Nothing.

Dean hastily stands to his feet, eyes raking over the incandescent white ground. He can see a little better now, his eyes having adjusted to the light. The ground beneath him is tiled and he reaches down, brushing his fingers across it. Stone, maybe some sort of marble. Huh, fancy. He takes a look at his feet and finds he doesn’t have any shoes on, that’s odd. He glances around and it’s nothing but the shining brightness, he can’t even tell if he’s in a room or even if he’s on earth. He wracks his mind, trying to remember what happened before he woke up here.

The last thing he remembers is going to bed the night before. His arthritis had been acting up all day and even walking with his cane hurt his joints. He’d decided to go to bed early and hope that the pain would lessen by the time he awoke the next morning.

Dean glances down at one of his hands, there’s no wrinkles. There definitely should be wrinkles, he’s seventy-eight years old. Turning his hand over, he brushes his fingers over his palm and the top of his hand, smooth, no age lines. What the fuck? He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt grabbing at his healthy, smooth, freckled skin in awe. Dean awkwardly lunges forward two steps. His bones don’t hurt, nothing hurts, and he feels like he’s thirty-five again.

He’s young again.

Keep reading

Cameron Dallas Imagine-#6

Cameron Dallas Imagine- #6

Request- Can you please do an imagine where I’m Cameron’s girlfriend and a vine too, and also part of Magcon and I have depression and self harm because of the hate and one of the boys notices and tells Cam?

(contains content that could be triggering)


‘’BYE!” Cameron yelled one last time, waving to the fans. Soon he took hold of your hand as you went back to the hotel rooms with the guys (and Mahogany). You made sure to keep your hoodie sleeves pulled over your wrists, where fresh cuts were made yesterday. Everyone always said you had the perfect life, you had almost 2 million followers on vine, you were apart of Magcon, and you were dating freaking Cameron Dallas. But, they didn’t see what happened behind closed doors. You loved Cameron but the hate was too much, everyday comments flooded in on your twitter, instagram , vine, any social media site. Sometimes even in public. Cameron knew you struggled with depression, and the hate didn’t help. You felt like there was nothing to resort to, you knew you couldn’t tell Cameron. It would break his heart to know what his fans said to you. You felt like you didn’t have anyone to talk to, you didn’t think anyone would get it.

As you were walking back to the hotel, side by side with the boys, you pulled out your phone. Of course you had more then 20 notifications from Instagram, Twitter, etc. but you skimmed through them to find almost all of them were negative. The boys had planned to go out to eat, but you honestly had no interest in running into fans. So you made an excuse, “I’m going to back to my room, I’m so tired.” You said, dragging out the ‘so’. “Ok, I’ll see in a bit babe. Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Cameron asked, pecking your lips. You smiled, “Oh I’m fine, I just need some rest, but thanks.” You waved said goodbye to the rest of the boys (and Cameron) and headed back up to your large hotel room. Which, you shared with Cameron, Matt, and Carter.

You unlocked the door to the room, and plopped down on your bed. You pulled out your phone, and couldn’t help but scroll down your Twitter timeline. Which, of course had many hate comments. One after another, they kept coming. Once in awhile there would be sweet comment, which would make you smile. But, always another hurtful comment would push you over the edge. You told yourself not to cry, 'These people aren’t worth it’. But you couldn’t help it, the tiny tears soon turned into loud sobs.

You got up from the bed and went into the bathroom. You yanked open one of the sink drawers, to reveal tiny razors wrapped in tissues. You pulled them out and say on the bathroom floor, shoving your hoodie sleeve up your arm. You were about to connect the razor to your skin, when you thought you heard the room door open, and then footsteps. You froze, to see Matt sanding in the doorway of the bathroom. “Oh I um- hey Matt,” you said stuttering. Trying to shove the blades in your back jean pocket. “Hey (Y/N), I um came to get my phone. And, I heard noise in the bathroom so um-” Matt shifted awkwardly, you wondered if he saw you. “Oh yeah I was just ya know using the restroom, no biggie.” You said, uncomfortably. “You were using the restroom on the bathroom floor?” He asked, raising his eyebrow. “Um well I like to try new things, so you should probably leave now.” You got up off the floor, hoped Matt couldn’t see your tear stained cheeks. “Yeah, see you (Y/N).” He said, walking out of the hotel room.

—————————————-

“(Y/N) I’m back!” Cameron yelled opening the hotel door. “Hey, where are the other guys?” You asked getting off the bed. “Oh they’re down in the hotel lobby with fans, I came up here because I need to talk to you.” He said, smiling faintly. You suddenly knew what it was about, Matt saw. And Matt told Cameron.
“Why didn’t you tell me (Y/N)?” He asked, he voice cracking. He pulled up your sleeve to reveal cut marks going down your wrist. You gulped, and began telling Cameron about everything that had been bothering you. Once you had finished you realized you were crying. You looked up at Cameron, who had watery eyes. “I’m so sorry (Y/N), I didn’t know it was this bad. And I want you to know that I’m here for you,” he said. Pulling you closer and kissing your cheek. “And I love you so much,” he added. Turning you head as that your lips met his.

(A/N): Tysm for 315 followers! It means a lot! If you ever need to talk about anything please feel free to ask me! If you want an imagine please say which boy you want and a short summary! :)

anonymous asked:

Can you write a poem about a girl losing her father(shes a spitting image of him) he overdosed on July first 10&a half years ago.

I’m so sorry to hear that.

***

I see you in fire,
in rippling water.
I see you in moving clouds,
in cracked pavements,
honey mustard sauce,
in dark open doorways,
in sand, in between lines
of words that read tragedy,
in garbage cans when I bend
over to throw up pieces of meat
and too much wine and maybe
a little bit of blood and a little
bit of myself. Because I see
you in me and now that you’re gone,
there’s no one to haunt me but myself.

Mind Play

Clear night blanketed across the overhead of the desert sands.The hunter had her vehicle parked and hidden someways off outside from the canyon. She continued her trek further inside the valley of rocks, irritation flowing all through her.

The first time she gets any decent rest in days and what happens the minute she wakes up? She gets immediately assigned to travel to this abandoned waste to check on things. She was the best killer The Shadowed One had that still lived and he pulls her out to give her some low subordinate duty!

Next time we get infested with the unknown, he can fix it him self! Lariska grumbled a trove more of obscenities and threats under her breath as she strides closer to the hidden hideout.

In several day’s time, the organization had not heard a word of contact back from their informant in with this nest of Nynrah Ghosts. Already having several projects on hold with them, The Shadowed One had grown impatient and had sent out an operative to see what was going on. Preferably sending one of his most intimidating one’s, to make sure that these simple little matoran didn’t have any change of heart, or if they did…they’d be quick in changing it back then.

A lone Dune Wolf howled somewhere far from a distance, breaking the monotony quiet of the night. Lariska kept silently grumbling to herself not stoping entill getting to the entrance. It was there that she realized something was wrong.

The heavy recessed door was torn right off it’s hinges and twisted on the ground like it was simple trash, leaving the opening the cave wide open. No noises or sounds of crafting or even movement could be heard from the outside. Not a good sign. Lariska pulls out a dagger and creeps inside…

So far it was dark and empty. Tools and supplies where scattered about, but less like there was an abrupt attack and more as if the inventors had been seriously busy. No signs of any ransacking or raid appeared, it look as if the inventors had just been here hours before. The further she went in wondering what was going on, she saw the corpse and the pound of flesh on the ground.

Indifferent by the site, she inquired upon both. The matoran body had been hanging for days from a vine nasty thorn plant that also appeared to have impelled and killed him. Flesh and bone that had been rotting for months sat on a pile on the floor and seemed have been stepped in at some point. Outside of these macabre oddities, there where no yielding clues to what had occurred.

With nothing else to look observe, she shrugged and headed toward the exit. Her job had been to check up on things and report back, if the boss wanted something grabbed or searched he can send someone else to do it.

She was just about to go outside when her heightened senses caught a small sound of shifting sand. Someone was out there.

Keeping inside the doorway, dagger at the ready, she scans the perimeter. Nothing but sand, canyon walls and shadows….

Slowly, weapon still drawn, Lariska walked out heading back into the night.