rolling tide

Siren Allure Spell

Originally posted by enchantinworld

Sirens are dangerous creatures, who lure nearby sailors with their enchanting music and voices to shipwreck on the rocky coast of their island. This spell is used to bring allure to your speaking and singing voice, to enchant those around you.  It is best used when a witch is wanting to kill it at an interview, dominate a speech, or perform like the greatest diva.  And it is so simple!

YOU WILL REQUIRE:

–tablespoon of honey
–bowl of sea salt
–glass of water

SPELLWORK:

  1. Begin outside.  (If you are near a body of water, this would be even better.)  Toss a pinch of salt in each of the four directions, saying:
    Northern sirens of rivers carving stone and dark depths, aid me.
    Eastern sirens of cliff drops into jetties and sea spray, aid me.
    Southern sirens of pale sands and hot lava rock, aid me.
    Western sirens of endless horizon and ancient shipwrecks, aid me.
  2. Make a circle with the remaining sea salt, large enough for you to stand in, and step into it.  Shut your eyes.  Envision the tide rolling in over your toes, kissing your ankles, and drawing you out waist deep.  
  3. Open your eyes and distribute your honey onto a spoon.  Recite the following chant:
    For words sweetened as fresh honey,
    for song as powerful as hurricane gales,
    for confidence as strong as undertow,
    for appearance as alluring as siren maidens.
    I am one with the sea and the sea is in me.
  4. Consume the honey.  Let its warmth spread over your tongue, along your teeth, down your throat, and into your stomach.  Concentrate on that heat and feel it spread through your veins.
  5. Taking your glass of water, drink the entirety of it.  When you are finished, say: My siren spell begins now and all will be enchanted.
  6. Step out of the circle and your spell is complete.  It should last one full day.

Hope this helps, darlings!

fly away with me

summary: astronauts au! lots of fluff. oops.

word count: ~1600


He can remember the exact moment he wanted to do this.

He was six years old, sitting in the passenger’s seat of his brother’s truck while Liam paced around in the light coming from the parked vehicle’s headlights, voice raised as he fought to keep Killian with him.

He was listening to the radio- crackling due to distance, but enough for him to hear the woman talking about the latest space launch.

With bright eyes, Killian had stared up at the night sky, counted the stars, and suddenly desperately wished he could be there. Not here, with Liam or in the system where he’d likely end up. If his parents didn’t wish to stay, then neither did he.

He’d rather chase the stars any day.

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ilvermorny headcanons

ok but imagine

- ilvermorny professors with ridiculous bostonian accents
- ilvermorny professors with thick southern accents
- or midwestern accents
- or native american… or mexican… or canadian
- JUST ACCENTS
- southern students explaining sweet iced tea to their yankee classmates
- the red sox/yankees rivalry being even stronger and deeper than inter-house rivalries
- baseball is a BIG deal at ilvermorny (it’s massachusetts, I mean c'mon)
- mexican, native american, and french-canadian teachers and students slipping into their native languages whenever they get excited or angry
- heated arguments over politics between the horned serpents and the thunderbirds, but the wampuses and pukwudgies being the most inclined to party loyalty
- mexican, native american, and canadian students introducing the american students to foods/festivals/traditions/clothing/stories/etc. of their cultures
- QUINCEAÑERAS AND BAT/BAR MITZVAHS
- cranberry pies and cobblers for desert literally every day
- grumpy pukwudgies everywhere, complaining but never leaving
- actual pukwudgies showing obvious bias toward pukwudgie students
- wampuses being hands-down the best dancers and turning out the most ballerinas and choreographers
- the little old southern lady, who teaches charms, bringing lemonade, sweet tea, and cookies to class everyday
- the red sox curse being ACTUAL dark magic
- the patriots’ LUCK is owed to overenthusiastic wizard/witch fans who can’t help themselves
- this pisses off the students invested in the nfl who aren’t patriots fans (which is most of them)
- southern students bringing college football fanaticism to ilvermorny
- “ROOOOLLLLL TIDE, Y'ALL” “GO VOLS” “LISTEN HERE, MAN, I SAID ROLL TIDE” “IF YOU CUSS AT ME AGAIN LIKE THAT, I’LL-” “BOYS! if I hear another of these arguments again you will both be taking it to detention. hotty toddy, by the way.”
- pukwudgies being killer at potions
- thunderbirds excelling at DADA
- wampuses are the BEST at transfiguration
- horned serpents slaying at divination and arithmancy
- the amount of no-maj positivity is unreal and beautiful
- the best feasts literally ever (sorry, hogwarts)
- THANKSGIVING. CHRISTMAS.
- I N D E P E N D E N C E D A Y
- wow independence day is so off the chain
-illegal fireworks everywhere
- red solo cups littering the grounds
- the horned serpents smuggled the alcohol
- the manchester joke got very serious whenever that was big
- seriously, you didn’t want to try it on a thunderbird. jinxed in a second

Imagine all the people you meet in your life. There are so many. They come in like waves, trickling in and out with the tide. Some waves are much bigger and make more of an impact than others. Sometimes the waves bring with them things from deep in the bottom of the sea and they leave those things tossed onto the shore. Imprints against the grains of sand that prove the waves had once been there, long after the tide recedes. That was what Atlas was telling me when he said ‘I love you.’ He was letting me know that I was the biggest wave he’d ever come across. And I brought so much with me that my impressions would always be there, even when the tide rolled out.
—  It Ends with Us by Colleen Hoover

James poking Lily, who fell on Albus, who then fell on Teddy. They were taking their Potter family trip to the coast, with Ginny and Harry, and the kids decided to watch the rolling tides, catching up with Teddy as he tells them stories of his new job as an Auror.

Taken by Harry with a wizard camera, with silent snickers from Ginny as she confirms that James is their son for the billionth time.

COLOURS
When you jump into the deep end, it’s the colour of the splash. When it rains, it’s the colour of her muddy raincoat and matching boots. When she laughs, it’s the stain of slushie on her tongue. When its winter, its the light shade of frost on her lips. When you gaze out to sea, it’s the soft rolling movement of the tide. When she looks at you, it’s colour of your eyes. The blue tint of your eyes.
When you sit in your living room, it’s the soft trickle of light through the window. When you make her laugh, it’s the colour that erupts from her mouth. When it’s warm, it’s the flickering shade of fire. When you cook, it’s the citrus bursting of flavour and smell. When she walks, it’s the flowers that bloom from their buds. When she sings, it’s the excited grin of your face. The yellow burst of your face.
When you bend to pick a flower, it’s the colour of grass. When you look down, it’s the shade of the stains on your trousers. When you gaze out of the window, it’s the hills, the leaves, the hedgerow . When you see headlights in the drive way, its tint of illuminated trees. When you hug her hello, it’s the glow of her phone lighting up. When she looks down to read, it’s reflected in her round staring eyes. When you read the message, it’s the colour of your cheeks. The green blush of your cheeks.
When you spin her in the middle of the dance floor, it’s the colour of her dress. When you smile at each other, it’s the shade of her lipstick. When she whispers in your ear, it’s the soft beat of your heart. When you see her with someone else, it’s the colour of your breath. When you smash the mirror in the hallway, it’s the prick of glass in your finger. When you hear her calling, it’s the colour of your pulse. The red beating of your pulse.
of written feelings and words with meaning

Summary: Recently, Dan’s become addicted to this writing blog. He’s so addicted to it in fact, that he might as well be in love with it. The writer seems to say exactly how it feels and he finds himself wishing he had someone who was so deeply in love with him to write for him like that. Little does he know that there is already someone doing that and he’s closer than he thought.

Phil, on the other hand, has his own feelings and secrets to keep.

Excerpt:  For he was more than happy to stand at the shore, watching the tide roll than to submerge himself into the water, get whisked away by the waves, and before he knew it, he’d be too lost to find his way back.

Words: 5k+

Genre: Fluff, Angst (??)

A/N: FOUR DAYS. THIS TOOK ME FOUR DAYS. Anyyas, this was a whole lot of fun to write and I guess this is my year-end gift as well as my HOLY SHIT GUYS THANKS FOR 1.4K YA’LL ARE AMAZING GIFT.


“his laugh was a work of magic
filling my lungs with fresh air
he brought colour to a life so tragic
and held a heart with utmost care

yet he was a hero who didn’t know he was one
a knight saving people he couldn’t see
i would gladly give him the sun
even if he wouldn’t know it was me

oh what a cruel god rules my life
i write for a man who doesn’t know
and despite it, i hold unto the knife
cause i’ve planted a seed that has grown

so, i sit back and watch him live
because many say we met through fate
and bit by bit my heart i give
although i won’t get it back, ‘till kingdom come i’ll wait”


Dan’s eyes were focused on the addicting blue of the screen (he could think of a blue that looked much better than that), scrolling mindlessly, occasionally breathing out through his nose as a desperate attempt of a laugh when he came across the poem. With text posts, he’d normally read it then just scroll on. However, this one managed to hold him captive, a whisper of his mind told him to pay it more attention.

And so he did.

The brunet clicked on the poem’s original poster. Immediately, he was greeted by a monochrome theme with the title Words Written with Feeling in Search of a Meaning and he must admit, it took a while for his sleep-deprived mind to understand it.

For hours, Dan read this writer’s words. From what he could gather, the writer was a man and most of what he’s written was so tragically beautiful. His way with words was astonishing. They made you feel as if you were the one who felt his emotions.

Granted, most of his writing was in first person but despite that, the way he described his thoughts danced on the line of vague and descriptive. It was symbolic. His words made you think of their meaning enough to get a grasp on the complications that were his feelings.

Besides, he found it ironic that the blog was monochrome for the words of the writer were so colourful. Iridescent hues lacing between the curves of every letter. Splashes of colour highlighting every word.

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