the hands that bind me

Resources for Binding Magic

Updated: June 22nd, 2017

For the purpose of this masterpost, I am defining binding as “any spell that can be utilized to prevent a person from performing any specific action, generally harmful in nature, by rendering them incapable or unable of doing so.”

There are other ways to utilize bindings of course - in the instance of keeping something closer to you - but the spells in this list will be relating to the definition I have listed above.

General Resources

General / Multipurpose

Hinder Harmful Actions

(cw for all the spells in this section: mentions of abuse / abusive benhaviour)

 Stop Other Magic / Magic Users

Halt Gossip / Speech

Prevent Touching

Remove From Your Life / Prevent Contact

(akin to banishing)

Block Unwanted Love

Self Binding

Spirit Binding

Binding-Curses

Meeting Maria

Nico lay fast asleep next to Will. Will liked to look at Nico asleep, because he looked at peace, like an Angel. His usual scowl disappeared and he looked liked a regular fifteen year old, not some kid who’d been pulled out of his life and placed into a hotel where he didn’t age. Not like some kid who’d endured so much pain and misery that even the gods themselves couldn’t inflict anything else on him. Of course, Nico often had nightmares but Will chose to classify that as caused by his experience in Tartarus. Will caressed his cheek slowly, wondering how Nico survived it. He’d seen the damage it did to Percy and Annabeth.

Nico slowly buried himself into Will’s warm chest, and Will wrapped his arms around his waist, putting his chin on top of Nico’s head, pressing a kiss on his forehead before closing his eyes, allowing the calm of sleep to overtake him.

Will didn’t know where he was. It was a forest, covered in trees, roses blooming on bushes on the ground.

“Do not fear,” a melodious, soft voice said, “Come to me, Will Solace.”

Entranced by the beauty of the voice, Will walked deeper into the forest, stopping only when he reached a clearing. There was a wooden bench and table, and seated atop the table was a woman.

Will approached, sensing she was not dangerous. She was short and eloquent. If grace could be described, she’d be the description. She wore a black dress, lace black gloves and a black hat tilted elegantly on her head. Her hair was long and straight, toppling over her shoulders in obsidian black streaks. Her skin was a light, olive tone and her expressive, big, doe-like eyes were too familiar to Will, but he couldn’t figure where he knew those brown eyes. The woman smiled at him, lighting up her entire face.

“You know who I am,” she said in accented English, “yet you don’t know who I am.”

She seemed to be amused by this.

“Very well, Will Solace,” she said, “I am Maria di Angelo.”

Will’s heart almost skidded to a stop.

“W-what?” Will stammered, “Is this possible?”

Maria laughed, “Well, I am here, am I not?”

“Why aren’t you with..with…” Will managed, unable to say his name.

A frown crossed Maria’s ethereal face. Will realized, with shock, how much Nico resembled his mother.

“I fear my son has suffered enough in his short life,” Maria said, her eyes glistening, “You know what the fatal flaw of all children of the Underworld is, Will Solace? It is holding grudges. My Nico has come so far…opened his heart to love and friendship…let go of so much anger and hate…the last thing I would want is for him to continue on that path, and I am terrified he would do so should I appear to him.”

“He’s not like that anymore,” Will said, coming to Nico’s defense. Maria said nothing, offering a smile.

“Take care of my little prince of darkness, would you, Will Solace. Swear it by the Styx, and then I shall fully be able to find peace. My guilt for leaving my children at the hands of this cruel world is what binds me here, ” Maria said, softly.

“I don’t need to swear by the Styx for something I intend to do,” Will said, a small smile breaking out on his face, “But if it helps you to move on, then I, Will Solace, swear by the river Styx that I’ll take care of Nico. I’ll love him, comfort him, be there for him and remind him that he’s never alone, until the day I’m unable to.”

Thunder boomed within the distance. A serene smile crossed Maria’s face, “Thank you, Will Solace.”

Will woke up with a gasp.

“Will?” Nico moaned, raising his dark head.

“It’s alright, Neeks. Just had a strange dream,” Will comforted Nico, “Go back to sleep, babe.”

“Wanna share?” Nico whispered, still half-asleep.

“Will you tell me about your mother?” Will blurted.

Nico froze. That got his attention. Will silently prayed that he hadn’t overstepped his bounds. He knew Nico was sensitive about his past.

Nico yawned, pulled the blankets up over his black shirt and told Will, “It’s almost one in the morning​. I’ll tell you all about my mother and sister in the morning, I promise, tesoro, but just let me sleep.”

“I know, l know. With great power comes a great need to take a nap,” Will smiled into the darkness, “Night darlin’.”

Soon enough, Will fell asleep too, a smiling Maria di Angelo watching over both boys in the darkness.

Bedtime

I love Manorian too much to not write it. I tried a new writing technique for this one, so it may not be up to par. Either way though I hope you all enjoy it! 

Title: Bedtime

Characters: Manon and Dorian

Summary: Manon and Dorian prepare to go to bed, however like most things, there is always a sass-filled standoff before such a thing can occur. 


“I won’t lie; your clothes look fantastic on me.”

Dorian watched from behind with an amused expression as Manon examined herself in the mirror. One of his navy blue button-up shirts hung loosely around her svelte frame, dipping below her waist just slightly. Of course, with Manon being Manon, the first three buttons at the top were undone to be more than a little revealing. A pair of his matching blue pajama pants barely clung around her waist, the pant legs pooling at her feet. Even with the pant strings drawn completely they were still only a few hip sways away from sliding right on off. Not that Dorian minded, of course.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Regina is kidnapped. Emma finds her, shaking, abandoned in the woods.

Thanks for the prompt :) 

TW for kidnapping. 

Emma sighs, her breath appearing in the frozen air before her, as she trudges through the woods. She’s been out here every night this week, just searching and hoping. 

Regina was taken exactly five days and six hours ago. She knows who by. They caught Jefferson three days ago, laughing maniacally and gloating the Rabbit Hole about finally taking down the Evil Queen. He confessed to the kidnapping and restraining Regina’s magic but his only hint about her whereabouts was that she was in the woods. 

Sadly, the woods are larger than Emma realised which has meant non-stop searching. All magic tracing spells have failed thanks to the cuff he placed on Regina but Emma refuses to give up hope. Her mother suspects he’s lying and so she and Charming have broadened their search. 

Emma, however sticks to the woods. She can’t explain it. She just knows that somewhere out here in these woods, Regina is here. 

She just needs to find her and soon. Emma’s heart aches as she thinks of Regina alone and lost in these woods. Normally, Regina is level-headed but she’s been missing for nearly a week without water or food and with god knows what trauma suffered. 

“Come on Regina, where are you?” Emma mutters to herself as she trudges on. 

it’s then that she spots it, a little disturbance in the leaves. it’s not much but it’s something. Emma runs to it, quickly swiping the leaves away until it a small door is revealed. “Please be here,” she whispers as she uses her magic to open the door. 

Finally, it springs free and Emma coughs as she peers down into the dusty cellar. It looks empty and for a moment Emma deflates…then she hears it…a whimper in the darkness. Scrambling for her phone she flicks on the torch before slowly climbing down the ladder. 

She turns around the room before her light hits a figure in the corner. Regina flinches as the light assaults her and Emma gasps. Her hair is knotted and curling. Tear tracks are visible on her face along with dried blood and a fairly sizeable bruise. Regina’s trembling and clearly terrified…but she’s alive. 

“Regina,” she breathes racing towards her placing her phone on the ground grimacing as it illuminates their dank surroundings. 

“E..Em…ma…” Regina’s voice comes out hoarse and shaking in a way that breaks Emma’s heart. 

“I’m here,” she promises as she unties the ropes binding Regina’s hands and feet. 

“You came…You found me,” Regina whispers as if she can’t believe it. 

Emma nods, gently picking up the brunette so that she can get her to hospital, “I found you..you’re going to be okay, everything’s going to be okay.” 

More tears spill down Regina’s cheeks as she weakly grabs Emma’s jacket, “Promise me you’re real…please.” 

Emma nods again, kissing the top of Regina’s head as she promises, “I’m real.” 

gifs via @silvertons)

the focus on the hands in the binding ceremony is really important to me tbh because it’s such a metaphor for their relationship, they are forced to be joined but it simply feels right.

and then they run through the streets chasing a murderer with their hands still bound, they are constantly trading back and forth their roles but in the sequences following the binding ceremony there is a marked respect between the two of them and after Benvolio kills the guy Rosaline simply says, “we did”. She includes herself in that and we know from so many tv shows that murdering people together is a massive step towards becoming great partners. 

They also spend so much of this ceremony looking towards their pervious lovers, the people they once saw a future with, but at the end of the ceremony, they look towards each other, they look towards their true future. It’s one they didn’t want, one they continue to resist but in finding themselves bound together, they like other ships, find themselves respecting and soon after loving each other. 

Bad Girl Ch 9: PTSD

I’m sorry for leaving you all hanging I didn’t mean to wait that long!

“What?” Baekhyun whispers, his eyes wide.

I can’t hold in my uncontrollable cries anymore, “I’ll be a good girl daddy, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me.”

He drops the knife and releases my hair, his hands hover over my shoulders as if he is suddenly afraid to touch me like I might break. “My baby, my sweet baby,” He cries as he wraps his arms around my head, holding me to his chest. “Daddy is so sorry, don’t cry, I’m so sorry.”

“What the hell is going on down here?” Suho roars when he busts the heavy metal doors open. It only takes him a moment to access the situation in front of him. His younger brothers are all a mess, Baekhyun more than anyone but the younger three seem to be in shock. My eyes lock with his and he seems to join them in their daze for just a second before someone pushing pass him knocks him out of it.

“Did you really take her?” It is Xiumin roaring this time. All this screaming is too much, I can’t stop myself from shaking.

“All of you stop yelling!” Jiyong snaps, still on speaker. “She’s scared, I know this is a lot for everyone but calm down. She is so scared right now, please.”

“Oppa, come get me,” I cry, “Please Oppa, I can’t be here right now, this is just too much.”

“I’m coming my love,” I can hear him moving things around, rushing to my rescue.

“Don’t fucking dare come anywhere near our home,” Baekhyun seethes.

“She asked me to, I’m going to leave her there with people who just tried to kill her!”

“That was before we knew!” Sehun screams as he fights with Baekhyun to get a hold of me.

“Knew what?” Suho tries to catch up on the conversation.

“It’s her Hyung,” Kai cries as he drops to his knees, tears slide down his cheeks, completely contrasting the bright smile on his face. “It’s our baby! She isn’t dead.”

“Is it really her?” Tao joins us in the room.

“Stop asking me that!” I scream earning the attention of everyone in the room. “Why do you keep saying that? I’m not dead, I’m not a copy, I am me, why is that so hard for you all to understand? Why did you do this? Why are you guys so willing to hurt me over and over again? Is my happiness nothing to you?”

“We thought you were dead,” Xiumin tells me. “We saw you getting beat into a bloody pulp, they found your body, there was a funeral, we thought you were dead.”

“We need to get her out of here,” Suho rushes over and picks up the knife Baekhyun had dropped. He pushes the younger two out of the way and quickly and cuts the ropes binding me. The knife is out of his hand the moment the last rope is cut, his hands are on my shoulders pulling me out of the chair and to my feet but my legs aren’t strong enough to hold me up. He catches me and picks me up without a problem. I want to fight him so bad, I don’t want any of them to touch me, I just want to go home. But I’m tired, I’m so tired. My head rests on his shoulder.

“She’s bleeding,” Baekhyun reminds them, rushing to keep up with Suho who is basically running through the dimly lit hall.

“You keep your distance, you are the one that hurt her!” I see Tao stop, he pushes the older boy to the ground.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was her, I was just so mad,” Baekhyun is stumbling over his words to the point I almost don’t understand him. His voice fades as Suho continues on taking me out of the basement into the bright hall way upstairs. I close my eyes, the transition being too much for me. The only thing that let me know that we joined the others in the living room is their unison gasps.

“Lay get over here,” Suho commands the minute we step in.

“Is that?” Sweet Lay’s voice wonders.

I swear to God if he-

Suho thankfully cuts both Lay and my thoughts off, “She isn’t a copy, this our baby. I don’t know what the hell is going on and how she is alive but this is her and she is hurt. Fix her.”

“I-I need a first aide kit,” He stammers, his voice coming closer.

“Than stop fucking staring at her and go get it!” Kris snarls.

“Keep your voice down,” Xiumin warns, poison thick in his voice. “This isn’t the time to be angry with each other, we need to focus on this, on her.”

“Is she awake? How did she get hurt?” It’s Kyungsoo this time, his voice deep and warm like morning coffee, I forgot how much I love his voice.

“I think so, Baekhyun cut her, he was in one of his episodes and I think he lost it.” Suho tries his best to explain.

One of his episodes? Is that a normal thing? How long has that been going on? I have so many questions in my head that I want to ask but I know I would receive questions of my own that I’m not sure I can answer.

“That fucking piece of shit,” Kyungsoo seethes but I’m assuming one look from Xiumin keeps him from opening his mouth again.

“Baby,” Chen calls.

“Jooyoung,” I finally respond and open my eyes slightly.

“What?”

“My name is Jooyoung, not baby, I don’t know what is going on but for the past year I’ve been told you abandoned me so understand that I will not be pretending like everything is fine and none of this just happened.” I sigh and sit up without Suho’s arm around me. For a moment I consider getting up and moving but I choose not to push my luck, no matter what I say if they want to hover over me I don’t really have a choice.

I look at everyone, starting with Kyungsoo who is on my left, we are on the couch, Chen is next to him sitting a good distance away with Luhan. Kris is next, he is standing with his arms cross over his chest, Xiumin is in front of the TV, directly across from me. The next few are standing in a cluster; Tao and Sehun have their arms locked together while Kai is standing in front of them. Baekhyun and Chanyeol are creeping in the hallway for good reason, I don’t think I can have them any closer right now. Suho is the closest, his arm is resting behind me, waiting to wrap me in them again. I finally look at him, actually look at him and I’m taken back.

Without a thought I reach both of my hands to his hair, “Daddy, you hair is pink.”

He seems a bit dumbstruck for a moment but leans into my touch instinctually. A soft chuckle leaves his lips, “It used to be red but it faded.”

I take my hands back, what am I doing? I just told them to drop their pet name for me yet I continue to use theirs.

“Are you going to go back to him?” Chanyeol suddenly asks.

“What?” The room echoes.

“Are you going to go back to Jiyong?”

I shrug, “I don’t know. I want to talk to him, I need to know what is going on.”

“He lied to you,” Kai reminds me.

I narrow my eyes on him, “Like you were an open book Jongin.”

His eyes go wide, “How do you know my real name?”

“I know a lot of things now, Minseok, Yifan, Jongdae, Junmyun, Jongin, Yixing. Good to know half of you lied to me right off the bat. You guys couldn’t even be honest about your names, why should I believe anything you say over Jiyong? He is an open book to me, anything he does in this big bang world, I know about it.”

“Because why would we lie to you about something like this?” Kyungsoo quickly questions.

“I don’t know! Maybe you all realized how much you missed me and thought of some lie to get me back. Even though I would like to believe you wouldn’t destroy the happy life I had to do that, I don’t know. I need some kind of proof.”

“Proof?” Xiumin mumbles. “I can give you proof.” He steps aside and runs his hand along the edge of the TV to turn it on. In seconds the screen lights up revealing a frozen frame of me on the ground. My heart stops.

“The video, you guys have the video? Do you have all of them?” I run my hands through my hair, my face becomes hot. They saw it, they saw all of it. I wanted nothing more than to forget all of that. I cover my face to hide my shame, how have I not ran out of tears from crying so much in one day? My chest feels tight, I try to breath in but it isn’t working, I can’t, I can’t breath.

I close my eyes to try and calm myself but that only makes it worse. Suddenly I’m back in that small cement room again, Taeil is there, the memory of his his mask is burned into my mind, all of them are. I imagine him grinning, excitement bright in his eyes. My clothes are gone leaving me naked in front of him, I know even with five layers on he would still be able to strip me with just a look. He makes me feel so vulnerable and fragile, he could crush me in his hand and blow me away like dust without a problem.

“Hello pumpkin, you look so scared,” He chuckles, lunging for me quickly only to land a few feet away. He’s taunting me, always taunting me. I press up against the wall as he comes closer and closer.

“Did you miss me pumpkin? Huh? I came all the way back just to finish the job, just me. No more Zico, no more savior. I have you all to myself to do all of those horrible things I’ve been aching for since the last time we met.”

“No!”

“Yes, pumpkin, you have no where to go,” His laugh echoes in my ears.

“He’s going to kill me! Get him away!”

“Baby, calm down,” Kyungsoo and Suho are both wrapped around me, whether they are doing it to restrain me or comfort me I’m not sure but it’s only making me panic more. I fight my way out of their grip into the middle of the living room. Everyone seems closer, like they are trying to close in on me without me noticing. They aren’t going to catch me, I’m not going to let them.

“Everyone just back up!” I command with my arms out at my side making sure they get the message. I scan the room, looking for an exit or at least some place to sort of hide.

“Sorry, I’m sorry baby, I’ll turn it off,” Xiumin quickly turns the TV off.

“I need time, give me time,” I tell them.

“Maybe one of us should take her to our room,” Luhan suggests. “One on one seems a lot easier to handle.”

“I’ll take her,” Lay volunteers, “I need to patch her up.”

“Do you honestly think she is going to let you touch her?” Kris scoffs.

“I want to do it!” The younger three interject.

“No!” Xiumin, of course, is the one to put his foot down. “Luhan will do it.”

“What?” The crowd whines.

“He is the only one who is stable enough to do it, the rest of us can’t handle it.”

“I can take care of her just fine!” Kris roars.

“You can take care of our baby just fine when she is having a tantrum, this isn’t a tantrum, this is a panic attack. Can you handle watching her relieve those things we saw on those tapes in front of you?” Xiumin snaps back, standing chest to chest with the taller man but still manages to be the more terrifying of the two.

“Is that alright with you?” Luhan asks me, everyone else took a step back. “Do you want to come to my room with me? I promise that I won’t lay a finger on you.”

I nod. My hands are shaking against my chest as I follow the older through the familiar hallways. He walks into his room first and lets me be the one to leave the door open or closed. I close it. He stands on the far side of the room and again lets me decide on how we do things. I have free rein of the room and decide to go for the bed. Though I’m a bit hesitant to just crawl under the covers and make myself comfortable Luhan quickly encourages it. Once I’m settled everything just fades away. He has always been able to do this to me, if I had a nightmare, or was nervous about something he would bring me back down to earth.

“Are you feeling more stable?” He is by the windows now, far from me.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Can I come closer?”

I sit up in bed, “You can come sit by me if you want.”

“Is that what you want?” He cocks a brow at me and give me a small smile.

I nod.

Oh so slowly he makes his way toward me, he goes around the other side and lowers himself on to the bed so we are laying next to each other, “Is this okay?”

I chuckle, “We’ve laid together before Luhan, this normal.”

“No this isn’t normal anymore. You have no idea how much this means to me right now. You have no idea how many times I’ve woken up hoping you would be next to me. Lets not talk about that now though, how about something more light?”

“Like what? Everything is a trigger for something that could break the others heart.”

He hums, “When I was younger I wanted to be a fireman.”

I stare at him, he’s looking up at the ceiling his head cradled by a soft pillow. He looks like an angel. I couldn’t imagine such a beautiful savior, “I wanted to be a ballerina.”

“Why weren’t you?”

“Because I wasn’t allowed to take classes as a child.”

“What do you want to be now?”

“I’m not sure, I’m just trying to figure out how I want this day to end before I start thinking that far a head.”

“How do you want this day to end?” He looks over at me.

“I honestly have no idea. Either way, someone will be hurt. Either way I will end up with a heavy heart.”

“I know you are dealing with a lot right now but is there anyway I could hold your hand?” It is such an innocent request that for a moment I think he’s kidding but when our eyes meet there is so much emotion in his I just want to start crying.

“Only for a little while,” I offer my hand to him.

“That is all I’m asking for.”


I just want to say @xiudaddyskitten I see you blowing up my phone all day, whole shit you blew through this shit! And thank you all for the love!

Xoxo Pretty bird

The demon towered over her, a wall of flame and molten rock. Its voice was the hiss of water hitting boiling metal. “You think you can defeat me?”

Esk looked up at him. The first thing she realized was that no, she couldn’t.

The second thing was: that was the wrong question.

“I think if you fought against me, you’d win,” she said. Her voice was shaking a little. She didn’t try to mask her fear: it meant more, she thought, to be afraid and still stand here than it would to be fearless.

The flames rustled. If its face were human, Esk thinks she might have seen a hint of discomfort in them. “Then why, little human, aren’t you running?”

Look the devil in the eye, the tales all said, and Esk did. “Because of course you can beat me in a fight. But the question is, why should you? Why should you fight me at all?”

The demon held absolutely still. Even the flames didn’t flicker.


Esk’s heart beat furiously in her chest. “You were a creature of God, once.” Her sweat wasn’t only due to the heat. The demon could burn her, smash her, end her any of a thousand violent ways. “And you followed the devil down. But now, here you are. Who do you follow?”

“Are you suggesting that I follow you?” the demon said. It did not move.

“Yes,” Esk said. Past her chattering teeth, she forced the words, “Why not? Is my goal not worthwhile?”

After consideration, the demon said, “It is.” (Was it her imagination, or were its flames lowering?) “Are you a holy woman, to command me?”

Esk’s laugh was a broken thing. “Oh bless, no.” She thought of herself as a girl, still. Holy - wow, really not. “I’m just trying to find my brother. He’d tell you I’m nothing like holy.” It made her throat ache, to speak of her brother, to think of him. She swallowed her tears. She couldn’t afford to be distracted.

“And to do that,” the demon said, “you’ll face me, and not back down.” In the mess of flames, it was hard to tell which parts were the face, but it seemed to Esk that maybe those parts were tilting a little. “Look.”

Esk blinked smoke from her eyes. A swath of flame retreated, and behind it she could see a pile of rocks, ranging from fist-sized to the size of her head, rising as high as her waist. She removed one hesitantly, from the very top. “Go on,” the demon said.

She only removed a handful of rocks when she started feeling it, whatever it was at the bottom of the pile. It gave her strength, so that she could hurl the last few rocks away if she wanted to. She made the effort to set them aside gently.

It was a sword, at the bottom, only she could tell it wasn’t really. Her mind was telling her it was a sword, because it had no picture and no name for what it really was. It fit in her hand like a dream, which is more or less what it was.

“What is this?” she didn’t hide the naked awe in her voice, either.

“I cannot say the name,” the demon said. “It is powerful. And you can have it.”

Once Esk had seen fire sucked out through a hole in a wall, reaching out for air. What the demon did was like that, or perhaps like that in reverse: the flames curled up on themselves until the resulting form was no bigger than the largest rock of the pile.

“Demon?” Esk said, uncertain.

“You have a sword.” Its voice, now, was like the hiss of the last embers in the hearth. “Use it.”

She looked at the sword. She looked at the demon, curled up small at her feet. She awkwardly negotiated the blade so it wouldn’t be turned at the demon, or at her own body. She knelt to the demon: she could sit very close, now, and it was no hotter than sitting near an oven. “What will it do to you?”

“What do you think?” it asked. “As long as the demon guards this passage, you shall not pass. It is written. Do what you need to, and pass.”

Esk took a breath, and another. She rose to her feet, and held the sword the way she did before. She moved away from the demon, and brought the sword down on the largest rock in the pile that had covered the sword.

The sword didn’t cut it clean in half; it smashed the rock, like a mallet. By the third rock Esk smashed, it became a mallet, still light as a dream in her hands. (Of course, that’s what it was.)

“What in creation are you doing.” The demon’s voice was too small and weary to sound like a question.

“It has to be around here somewhere,” Esk explained. “The thing binding you to this pass. I’ll find it, and then you can do whatever you want. You said it was written; I’m going to erase it.”

The flames were moving again, agitated. “You can’t break a vow with a sword,” the demon said. “Or with a mallet.”

Esk raised up the mallet. “With this one? I think I can, actually.”

The flames grew, and grew. “What if there is no tether?” The demon asked, encircling her on all sides now. “What if nothing binds me here?”

Esk opened her hands. “Then what in creation are you doing here?” she put all her exasperation into her voice.

The flames trembled all around her, and rose into a mighty pillar, wailing.

Esk held the mallet above her hands. She felt whatever material it was made from - no metal nor wood nor stone - flow over her hands, down over her face and her body down to her feet. It was cool, even when she went forth and put her arms around the pillar of flame.

Fire has no body, but there was something solid in there. Hard as rock, at first, and then it melted into her hands.

“It’s okay,” Esk said, dazed. “It’s okay. You can come with me if you want.”

The flames encircled her again, but now the perimeter was wide enough to stride in and Esk could see over them to the other side of the pass. A gap opened in them like an invitation, flames shivering on its sides.

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’m not leaving you here. I mean,” she hastily said, “you can stay if you want to. But I want you to come.” Under her breath, she muttered, “When my brother sees you, he’ll have a fit.”

The Closed Gate

(image credit: @denmysterywoman​) 

I lost track of how many I killed two hours ago. That isn’t the sort of thing one should forget, no matter what you are. Part of my training was to never forget anything, no matter what time would do to me.  I am failing it. I find I do not have it in me to care, but that does not liberate me at all. They said that Crumoyx was just another colony world, made just before the human war against the Aendar ended. Unlike the Hingari, the Aendar could be fought. The war raged through space and time; thanks to certain sublight drives it was still going on in some places. But colonies were built to last, because of wars. It allowed them hide the Gate here. A door, a weapon, the kind of hope that wasn’t hope at all. You can call a weapon hope, but only if you know nothing at all.

It had taken years to find. Manifests, shipping records, faked accounts. Enough weapons and soldiers coming here to count as an anomaly. There were at least a thousand marines. Distantly, the fabristeel structure shudders under another explosion. Each trap, each bomb, each weapon I compromised. Poisoned food killed some. I hadn’t known that a Verkonis blade could break until it did, but I’d brought other weapons.

They sufficed.

It helped that many did not believe I existed. And fewer still understood what they were dying to protect. It made no difference. They died, and they died, and finally I entered the chamber.

The gate was left of centre. Not in the middle of the colonial compound, hidden by being unimportant storage. The records claimed it was part of the Lacuna network, remnants of the long defunct Niand Empire. A curiosity, a relic of a transport system long broken. They had two historians on staff to study it. Both turned out to be cyborg war machines. One of them broke the Verkonis blade. Somehow, that destruction did not level the world. Perhaps even such blades are not what they are advertised to be. It would not be the first time I had been lied to. I desire only this: that the gate was not another.

The room is made of stone. Old and real, the entire colony made about it. The gate itself is 8’ by 8’ and recessed into a wall. I activate six devices that are illegal across the entire Continuum. Two more after that, but the gate remains sealed. It is said that the Opal Key can open up even the dead and make them speak. It does nothing.

“You cannot open the gate.”

I spin. There is a human behind me. He is sixteen, not wearing any protective suit I can detect despite the fact that the poisons in the air should have burned the air from his lungs and stripped flesh from bone. “Hingari.” A shapechanger could survive this. “You do not belong here.”

“Not Hingari. You may scan me if you wish,” he says mildly.

I do. Human.  Entirely, ordinarily human. “… no DNA reading it this – pure.”

He nods. “It’s not normally a problem, but you do have impressive scanners.”

“You are here to stop me.”

“I merely stated a fact. You cannot open the Tannhauser Gate.”

I fire a single entropy shot. I only have four left, and no way of ever getting more.  
The human – catches it. Somehow, impossibly, holds it between two fingers and just looks… disappointed. “No one remembers. Sometimes I love that, other times I do not. They made eight Montauks, I was told after I found out about you all. Not knowing what they did. Firing you through time as well as space. Trying to win the war by changing the past. I wonder if even the Aendar knew how desperate that was, understood what they were playing with.”

“The Aendar are gone. I am the last of my kind.”

“I know.” He doesn’t move, this human of knowing.

“The Gate has weapons behind it. Monsters I can unleash.”

“It does, Monfour. But it can only be opened by a magician. And for all you are, and all that was done to you, you are not that.”

“What are you?” I ask, though some terrible instinct tells me that I must know. That it should be impossible for this person to know my name.

“The only one of my kind. I am Jay.”

“You are bigger. In all the stories. Monstrous.”

“Sometimes,” he admits.

“There are other gates. Other weapons.” And I activate my nature. Montauk. To leap through time. A voice calls out my name, behind me, and I flee. I flee. I –

I am in a room. A windowless and doorless room. And Jay is standing there, carrying a terrible calm with him. “You don’t get to escape my binding, Monfour, not even on Crumoyx, in the journey to ir or from it. Only Cruxy Mox ever did that, and not for long. All attempts to flee my bindings end up here; even I do not know why.”

I raise the gun again.

Jay takes it. I never see him move. That much, the stories all told as truth. “I’m not letting you kill yourself. Not like that.”

“You killed the others.”

“I have a duty, to time. An arrangement. And the other Montauks dared far worse than you.”

I gape at that. I was willing to open Gates to let monsters into the universe. “… worse,” I manage.

“The thing about gates is that someone has to make them. Someone has to guard them, if they’re say sort of gate, or at least make sure the hinges don’t squeak too much. You don’t want squeaky hinges, especially not on gates that should never open.”

He gestures. A flick of a finger, at once a summons and a command. I turn. The room has a door now. It is stone, and there is metal in front of it. A mesh of woven steel, the stone behind somehow alive, breathing. Aware.

“I made one gate so that anyone could open it. Because there would always be a chance it was needed.”

“What is beyond that,” I ask, and my voice has almost nothing of a Montauk in it.

“I don’t know. I think I made myself forget. I was ten once. Eleven the first time I came here that I am certain of. I didn’t find anything, but I think that is because I banished what was here. And that I put it behind that door.”

I turn then, and look at Jay. He is old, for all that he looks younger. Older than anything else I know of. They say he destroyed the Lacuna without trying. That the universe is safe from monsters because of him. He put them behind the other gates, I think. But this? I do not know what this is. I think he is afraid.

“What happens if I open it?”

“I don’t know.” His laugh is somehow like my own. “I am Jayseltosche, and every story about me is true, Monfour. Even the awful ones no one talks about. Sometimes I feel like my bindings are the only thing that hold the universe together. The rest of the time I am relieved this is not true. But I move through space and time in ways even you can’t understand. What is beyond that door I know nothing of, and there is very little I am certain I know nothing of.”

I do not move.

“I am very certain it is not jaysome. I do not know what will happen if you let it out, but I think you might well win your war.”

“Everyone will die.”

“And everything, yes. Memory, fantasy. All traces of the universe gone, the wild places of Outside no longer with this strange stable anomaly within it. That is the simplest outcome of opening this gate. It is what all wars become, in the end. You wish to destroy the past, to say nothing came before you to make a new future. And then it is all destruction, until you break bindings because there is nothing else to do.”

“How many have seen this gate?”

Jay smiles, then. Soft and sad. “Seven others.”

“And no one has opened it.”

Jay does not move. I step toward the gate. I hold out a hand. “You could stop me. You said no one can avoid a binding you make.”

“I could. Perhaps even in this place.”

I drop my hand. “I don’t win. No matter what happens.”

“It is a dangerous thing to think in terms of winning,” Jay offers softly. “The desire to make others lose is a dangerous one.”

“And does anyone win against you?” I ask.

“All the time,” he says, and there are worlds of meaning under those words. “All the time, or there would be no jaysome in the universe at all.”

I don’t know what he means. But I want to. For the first time in longer than I want to know, I want to do something other than kill.

“Help me.”

He grins, and the grin takes years from him. His laugh is young, and somehow free, and we are far away.

I expected Jay to remove something of my nature. To strip me of the awful weapons they put inside me.

I did not expect the hot springs. I think of a gate that anyone can open, and that Jay had no reason to take me there. I think of other things too, but let the water ease what it can instead.

Jay is not here. But he might come by, some day.

And that is reason enough to wait.  

Cottage Witch Vibes

Every once in a while, I take inspiration from summer. This is usually the earthy side of me that loves the fading colors in the second half of summer, and the flowers and plants soaking up the last sun they will see before fall hits (which is the best thing ever, but maybe not if you’re a flower).

This time, this second half of summer inspired a beautiful cottage witch themed journal, that feels homey and inviting. It’s also a thick 120 pages of thick, durable paper that can be used for bullet journaling, sketching, or as a witchy book! I love thick, hardcover journals, and getting to bind them by hand allows me to add a little magic goodness into each one. Gee, I’m not a crafty witch, am I?

https://www.etsy.com/listing/544475701/yellow-cottage-flowers-handbound-journal

I won’t lie, I almost kept this one for my little witchy self. But, I have a bad habit where I love sharing beautiful things with people. If I could afford to give it away, I would! But, as it is, I simply make them as affordable as I can so each of these journals finds its way to an owner that suits it.

The book chooses the witch, not the other way around.

Isharay - Chapter Thirteen

Man, this has been a long week. Reblogs always appeciated. ❤️


Chapter Thirteen - Dust-form and Dangerous

Kalahira, the Goddess of Oceans. Neptune of the tossing seas. Tangaroa, Rán, Poseidon.

Water.

Intelligent life all stemmed from it, somewhere along the line. All life needed it. It was cradle and sustenance; beauty and destruction. Small surprise, then, that blinkered mortals all revered it; that souls across the universe cried out to it in worship.

It was unifying. It was essential. It was life, like the stars in the sky and the dust of a world still building. Light. Water. Air. There was light above her, now, bending through the water like sheets of pale gold.

The afterlife was an ocean. It seemed momentous, somehow. She wished that she could share it.

Until she tried to breathe.

The world condensed, then. Her lungs filled with water - and, for a moment, her vision cleared. She wasn’t floating in a blue-rinsed void; she was trapped inside a shuttle. Light was leaking in through a hole in the ceiling, scattering stars across her eyes.

She kicked. Panicked.

Tried to breathe again -

Her moment of clarity dulled. Her arms and legs felt heavy, like she was weighed down by bracelets of lead. She wanted to swim for the surface; up, towards the light - but the stars were all going dark.

She could close her eyes, she supposed. If it didn’t hurt now, it might never hurt again. No more loneliness. No more anger. No more pain.

Keep reading

Retractable Razor Nails Spell (Totally Spies Inspired)

A spell to break yourself free of any binding spells that may hold you.

You Will Need:

  • Blue Nail Polish
  • Metal Nail File
  • Bowl of Salt
  • 1 Black Candle
  • 1 White Candle

Steps:

  1. Place your candles before you, the black one to your left and the white one to your right. Light them starting with the black candle. 
  2. Place your bowl in front of you and fill it with salt. Make sure it is between the two candles but closer to you creating a triangle like shape.
  3. Paint your dominant hand with the blue nail polish. While painting visualize your nails long and sharp like razors, ready to cut through anything that may hold you.
  4. Once painted hold your hand out before you and over the bowl of salt. “These bindings hold me tight and strong, but I shall not allow them to for long.”
  5. With your hand slash like you are clawing at something (careful not to hit your candles). “I cut through the ropes! I cut through the ties!”
  6. Grab your nail file and hold it in the hand you have painted and hold it above your head in a position one would do if read to stab something. “I release myself and break through the binds.” 
  7. Stab it down into the salt (again careful not to hit your candles or to break the bowl). “I cut them away!” leave the nail file in the salt
  8. Hover your painted nailed hand over the nail file and bowl once more. “I set myself free.” Blow out your candles starting with white then the black
  9. Leave the bowl with the file in it over night and do not remove your blue nail polish, let it chip away on its own.

Recommended: after this spell take a bath or shower to help remove any negativity still left on you. Take a good rest and do something you enjoy. 

your arm around my shoulders. you oscillate your eyelashes, draw circles on my hand. you’re the only thing binding me together besides the scared skin your salty tears touch. you’re a part of the ocean, current resting in your winding curves. vast space, unkind to strangers and those who do not try. your leg moves involuntarily to the feel of your heart beat, so much of something (no one really knows what) that you can’t contain it. the rhythm you unknowingly play against my leg is the closest to your heart i’ll ever find myself
—  Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #88// anonymous
Limes (Nygmobblepot)

Originally posted by penguins-covert-lair

Kink Challenge Request #58-Sensory deprivation 

Dom!Ed x Oswald

Warnings: Usual smutiness. Penetration. Edging. 

A/N: Not 100% happy with this one, as I’m not sure I made Ed quite dominant enough and I’ve written sensory deprivation with Edward before.  But it is what it is. 

Keep reading

[His IC reading from a small story/poetry gathering on 5/28/17.  Poem is Alone by Edgar Allan Poe]

Slowly he walks up onto the stage, one tall black candle lit and held aloft in both his hands before him.  A dried black rose sits nestled in his hair, seeming a relic from long ago that should crumble to dust at the slightest touch.  His face is oddly somber and illuminated by the flickering candlelight as he casts a strangely glowing gaze across the assembled crowd.  Whether it is the candlelight or something more remains uncertain as he begins to speak quietly. 

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—

Slowly he moved his left hand from the candle, bearing it only in his right as he spread his arms in a wide gesture.  His movements were slow, ensuring the flame wavered and flickered but did not go out as he continued, an odd unearthly cadence and tone to his voice.  An almost hint of an echo or duality. 

From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—

His left hand raised, long nailed fingers wrapped around the fragile rose in his hair.  Those closer could see the petals begin to crack and crumble as he tugged it free.  The hand with the candle, now bearing the trails of wax as it burned, stayed out to the far side of him as he raised the removed rose aloft before his stationary form as if an offering. 

Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—

The hand holding the rose lowered as the one bearing the candle moved forward again slowly.  His gaze turned to the brittle flower in his grasp.  Fragile, breakable…like so many other things in this world.  His lips curled into a strange sad smile as he continued. 

From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—

The hand holding the flower closed tightly as he paused momentarily.  The petals crumbled and crushed beneath his pale fingers as he closed his eyes slowly.  He moved the candle up, closer now to his mouth between the hand holding the now ruined flower petals and his mouth as he finished. 

From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—

Without opening his eyes he blew the candle out, the breath scattering the rose petals into the air as he fell silent.  He paused, standing still for a moment longer before lowering his hands, one bearing the last remnants of the rose and the other with wax trails and dots along pale flesh.  A small dip of his head was given as he opened his eyes and walked off the stage toward his previous seat with nothing more offered. 

Fan Dub Bloopers Sentence Starters Part 1
  • [ My friends and I do fan dubs to entertain ourselves when we get together. These are from the Attack on Titan one we did years ago. ]
  • "Do you even work? Are you even working?"
  • "I'm really...I really gotta make sure."
  • "i'm really scared you're not gonna work."
  • "*pause* I thought I was gonna do it."
  • "Why does this always happen?"
  • "Oh wait, what?"
  • "Pfffffffffffffff- It's muted."
  • "Originally, it was a castle. That was old. And we modeled it."
  • "That's what happened to it yup."
  • "We just-.. and horses."
  • "And stuff because that word can't come out of my mouth apparently."
  • "Since it is so far from the river and things. I- yeah."
  • "Since it was- ah, fuck you."
  • "Wait, what? What just happened?"
  • "Oh yeah, it was. It was right there."
  • "Stupid skank. What a skank."
  • "I wasn't readyyyyy."
  • "You even told me you were."
  • "I wasn't expecting THAT."
  • "FUCK YOUUUUU. I HATE YOU SO MUCH."
  • "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU THINK THAT MEANT?"
  • "I fuck myself all the time."
  • "Okay. Let's do the- let's keep going."
  • "I was in the mid-sentence."
  • "____, fuck meeee."
  • "Fuck me up the butt."
  • "Goddamn it. Slap me now, man."
  • "Trying to bind my hands?"
  • "You gotta buy me a noose before you're my wife."
  • "He just fangirls hardcore."
  • "It's like right when you hit it."
  • "OOOOOI!"
  • "I do have his voice, so it's okay."
  • "You're sleeping in the basement."
  • "Yeah, basement, man."
  • "I was expecting to hear "OOOOOI!" and I didn't."
  • "Oh, never mind. I lied."
  • "God, get it together."
  • "He isn't the perfect people hero people thing."
  • "He's really short, and he's probably got a pole up his butt."
  • "Well then, I don't know THAT was what you thought about me."
  • "You gotta listen to the boops, okay? Boops!"
  • "I skip I words."
  • "He's a lot edge."
  • "I don't know what the fuck to say, and I am so done right now."
  • "I didn't mean "okay" as in "go"!"
  • "What really surprised me was how he followed things."
  • "Hey, you have it muted, and you don't have the headphones in."
  • "Oooooooops."
  • "All I could think of was ____ saying "Howdy ho!""
  • "And I really was tempted."
  • "____, I just wanna smell you."
  • "Are you serious? I'm typing!"
  • "I'm not ready for ____ yet!"
  • "I like how he said ____."
  • "Fuck you, man! Just fuck youuuu!"
  • "I just want you to fuck me already, okay?"
  • "Or I just wanna fuck you. I don't know."
  • "I don't know which. I'm just confused."
  • "Hon."
  • "He can suck my dick."
  • "____ can suck your dick?"
  • "How's your Fire Emblem game going?"
  • "Fuck plans!"
  • "I start recording, and you say "Buck-aaah!"
  • "We've been neglected by a single fucking blow!"
  • "To ____'s dick!"
  • "It needs to be longer?"
  • "You wanna make those noises?"
  • "Where'd everyone go?"
  • "What've I gotten myself into?"
  • "I'll have to tell you about the boys."
  • "Once upon a time, there was a tribe of the people did things."
  • "Eating and people and things."
  • "The scod weeder?"
  • "Is squadge leader here?"
  • "The squash leader!"
  • "You made the mistake of attacking humanity and bullshit."
  • "I got distracted bY JAM!"
  • "They made steaks out of butts."
  • "She said "bean" after I did."
  • "What they wouldn't do to fuck."
  • "Oh, I lost my place."
  • "It was light. Extremely light. Light as balls."
  • "The test subjects! Both I fucked!"