#a uniquely portable magic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wistfulcynic · 11 months

Text

as we meet at the fading of the longest day

A new Captain Swan fic? From me? Only *checks notes* one year and nine months since the last one.

Surprise?

Actually, the solstice made me do it. This is has been a half-worked WIP for well over two years now and i wanted to finish it but couldn’t hit on quite the right angle. Today i did. A midsummer miracle.

This is the third and final instalment in the Portable Magic verse, and so i offer a tag to @optomisticgirl and @piinfeathers because i know they are fans of this verse, along with @thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @katie-dub and @kmomof4, for what feels like obvious reasons ❤️.

He places himself at the cliff’s edge—its very edge; the tips of his toes in their squared-off boots lie flush with the crumbling granite. Wind whips through his hair and waves crash below his feet—far, far below—against rocks that shatter them into froth and fling their fragments through the air. The world spins around him, dizzyingly, but he is not afraid.

He steps over the edge, and off it.

When he opens his eyes he’s reclining on a long, low chair with a high back at his elbow and an armrest at his head. The cushion beneath his cheek is coarse-woven of silky fibres and his hand clenches on upholstery of the same material as he struggles to sit up.

“That was foolish, child,” says a voice from behind him. A gently lyrical voice that pierces his heart with the single word it does not speak.

His own is rough when he replies. “I had to see you.”

“I gathered.”

He turns as the speaker emerges from the shadows. He doesn’t remember her face but he knows it, long and lean, the lips his, the brow his, the eyes his.

“Mother,” he breathes.

Her breath catches. “Killian.”

He’s dreamt of this moment for so long, imagined it in such detail, but now that it’s here he cannot find a single word to say.

She seats herself gracefully on a chair beside his own and summons a smile. “Tea?”

He almost laughs. She looks nothing like Emma—her hair is straight and a deep, rich auburn, her pointed chin un-dimpled and her eyes more wise than knowing. Yet in essence they are so alike, his mother and his chosen wife. He thinks they’d like each other.

He hopes they can.

“You have a need,” says Alys, as she pours tea from a pot that was not there a moment ago. Neither were the cups that she fills with pale-green brew, but Killian has long since passed the point where such things might astonish him. He accepts a cup with a nod of thanks and takes a sip—there can be no danger to him in doing so—and considers his reply.

“Yes,” he says. “I do.”

“You’ve lost something,” she murmurs, “or are on the verge of losing it.” Her gaze is probing but not sharp, gentle as she sifts through the layers of his mind. He lets her—he could resist, but what would be the point? He’s here to offer her the very things she seeks. “No… someone.”

“Aye,” he replies, and lifts the last layer himself.

Alys gasps; her hand trembles as she returns her cup to its saucer. “She—she’s lovely. American?”

“Yes.”

“And a practitioner. How pleasing to see our ways survive, even in that land.” There’s an edge to her tone that rankles him a bit.

“It’s not such a different land,” he argues, then amends. “Well, not all of it.” It’s difficult even to stretch the truth in this place.

“You’re strongly bonded, you and she,” Alys observes, “and have been so for years. Yet there have been no formalities?”

“No.” His voice catches on the word. “We—didn’t want to rush things.”

Alys frowns slightly, then she nods. “Perhaps that’s wise. It doesn’t do to be light-handed with the threads of fate. Or destiny.”

Killian barks a wry laugh. “That’s what Emma said.”

“Is that her name? Emma?”

He nods. “Emma Swan.”

“Swan.” Her mouth twists. “English.” Of the Angles, she means.

“By descent. But that was centuries ago. She’s her own self now. One who respects all ways and all people.”

Alys smiles. “You’ve chosen wisely, then.”

“I think so.”

She nods. Her expression turns wistful, longing and so lonely. “I thought you would be angry,” she says. “When you realised that I left by choice.”

“What choice, Mamm?” asks Killian softly, “Your ‘choice’ was leave or die. I’d far rather have you alive.”

She swallows; her eyes are misty now. “But you were so small,” she whispers. “You were so small, Killian, it broke my heart to leave you. I wanted more time, and I couldn’t—your father wouldn’t let me bring you along.”

“I know.” He takes a risk and takes her hand. It’s slender and cool in his, with the faint hum of magic he’s grown accustomed to feeling beneath another’s skin. She goes still for a breath, then two, and then she turns her hand beneath his and clasps it hard.

Killian feels tears prickle in his eyes. He’s dreamt of this, longed for it, but he knows that desperation alone gave him the courage to take the step. He had nothing left to lose.

Alys knows it too. Her eyes are wet with the same tears.

“Very well,” she says. “I shall help you.”

—

The wood is dark, and noiseless. Nothing moves, not even the trees. There is no wind to rustle them, no trill of birdsong nor scurry of animals in the underbrush. Killian’s heart races but his blood is cold; his heart labours to pump it. The air pushes at him, tries to force him back. He grits his teeth and presses on.

At his side Alys moves without a care, on feet that barely touch the ground. It’s not she the wood seeks to exclude. Her presence grants him some reprieve; not much, but enough. Enough to bring him to the edge of the clearing but no further.

His mother takes in their surroundings with an almost academic disinterest, curiosity untempered by judgement. “How fascinating,” she murmurs. “What happened?”

“The baby,” says Killian hoarsely. “All seemed well until—”

“—her pains began,” Alys finishes, when his voice grows too rough to speak.

He nods.

“Birthing a fae is always a tricksy thing,” says Alys, “and most particularly for a human. Far better to have the babe born nearer the turn of winter, when the veil is thinnest. At midsummer the lay of things is rather different.”

“There—” Killian fights to speak the words “—there wasn’t precisely—a plan.”

“Indeed,” says Alys wryly.

“Mother…” Killian gasps. The woods twist round him like a vise and he can barely breathe. “Bring her back to me. Bring them back.” He draws a rasping breath. “Please.”

Alys nods. “Here,” she says, unhooking the clasp of her cloak. She sweeps it off her shoulders and around his own then does it up again. Immediately the crushing pressure recedes. “This should hold the magic off until it’s finished,” she says. “Wait here.”

—

The hut is simple in appearance, deceptively. Alys observes the spells woven into the structure’s foundation, its walls, its sloping roof. Spells of protection and warding but also practical ones, for insulation, water- and fire-proofing, and fresh air.

A clever witch, her daughter-in-law, Alys thinks with an unexpected thrum of pride. Her son has chosen well indeed.

She passes through the door without stirring a breath within the hut but the woman on the bed senses her presence. She lifts her head, sweat-slicked and haggard, and calls out, “Killian?”

“No, hwegyn,” Alys replies. “He cannot enter.”

The woman regards her with green eyes still sharp despite her exhaustion, hours of fruitless labour writ plain upon her face. There’s determination too and hope, though this woman knows, as Alys does, that no child of fae and human can be born into this realm without a careful hand to guide her through.

She knows this, and yet she tried it anyway. Alys shakes her head. Humans.

“You’re his mother,” the woman says. “You’re Alys, of Kernow.”

“I am.”

“I’m Emma,” says the woman. “Emma Swan.”

A waiting tension thickens the still air just for a moment, then Alys smiles. “You are well met, my daughter,” she says.

Emma releases the air from her lungs in a whoosh. “Thank the goddess,” she whispers. The air within the hut is gentle now. It cradles them both as Alys approaches the bed and lays her hand on Emma’s forehead. Emma sighs again as cool relief floods her body and she relaxes for the first time in hours.

“Shall we introduce the world to my grandchild?” Alys says.

—

As the last rays of the Midsummer sun break across the horizon, split by angles and air and magic into fiery shades of peach and rose, Rowan Alys Swan-Jones draws her first breath in the human realm. She blinks open eyes of the same sharp green as her mother’s, and regards her surroundings as Emma traces the outline of her slightly pointed ears.

“Babies don’t have green eyes,” remarks Emma, with a sidelong glance at Alys, sat gracefully in a chair at the bedside.

“Human babies don’t,” Alys agrees.

“Hmm,” is all Emma says in reply. She’ll have to think on that one.

Alys smiles and with the tip of a finger ruffles the reddish-tinted downy fluff on Rowan’s head. “Lowen owgh hwi, ow myrgh wynn,” she murmurs. “Hwi bos krev ha bos gwir.”

The words seem to hang in the air above the baby’s head. Emma doesn’t understand what they mean, but she feels their impact as they settle around Rowan’s tiny shoulders like the mantle they’re meant to be.

Just then, the door bursts open and Killian appears. “Emma?” he calls in worried tones. “Are you all right? The woods have only just let me through.”

Emma smiles and holds out her hand. “Killian,” she says softly, “come meet our daughter.”

Killian approaches the bed and reverently accepts the bundle Emma offers him. He tucks it into the crook of his arm, releasing a shaky breath as he strokes a gentle finger down the baby’s cheek.

Rowan coos.

“She recognises her father,” says Alys. “All is well.”

“You’ve blessed her,” Killian observes.

“I have.”

“Thank you, Mamm,” says Killian. He looks at Alys and sorrow clouds the joy in his eyes. “You’re leaving soon.”

“I must.”

“Will I see you again?”

“No, ow mab,” says Alys, with far greater gentleness than is her custom. “You are much too firmly of this realm, and rightly so. But this one—” she tilts her head to Rowan “—shall always have the means to find me, until such day as she chooses to relinquish them.”

Killian nods. “Farewell then, Mother,” he says. “And thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Emma echoes. “For everything.”

Alys smiles at her children, bestows a kiss onto each forehead, then takes her leave.

The breath of wind that carries her home is bittersweet but as she lights a candle to illuminate the shortest night, Alys feels content. Soon—many years yet by human reckoning but the merest tick of the ages to her—she will have a visitor again. A granddaughter, obstinate and tenacious and questioning, and far too clever for her own good. A challenge to everything Alys knows and all she holds dear.

She smiles at the flickering flame.

She’s always loved a challenge.

a/n: Killian in this verse is from Cornwall, or Kernow in the Cornish language. Though technically part of England, Cornwall shares a Celtic heritage and language with Wales, Scotland, Ireland, and Brittany. The language Alys speaks is my best approximation of Cornish, based on scant internet resources and zero knowledge of the language’s syntax. Apologies to any Cornish speakers for the inevitable errors.

#captain swan #cs fic #cs fanfic #captain swan fanfiction #emma x killian #a uniquely portable magic #profdanglais #as we meet at the fading of the longest day

29 notes · View notes

pynkhues · 2 years

Text

I was at a magic school today researching my new novel with a master magician and his historical archives which go back to 1898, and I got to hang out with his assistant, Dusty, who does, in fact, get pulled out of hats and y’know, sometimes writing is the best, actually

#rl #a uniquely portable magic

9 notes · View notes

izybizy · 2 years

Photo

(via Books are a uniquely portable magic Sticker by izybizy)

#findyourthing #redbubble #books and reading #portable #magic #unique gifts

0 notes

thehobbitchronicles · 11 months

Text

“Books are a uniquely portable magic”

— Stephen King

705 notes · View notes

boook-whore · 8 months

Text

“Books are a uniquely portable magic”—Stephen King

#book tumblr #bookaholic #bookblr #booklr #bookish #books #books and literature #bookworm #book aesthetic #book blog #bookstore #books and libraries #book photography #books and reading #book quotes #reading #bookshop #booksbooksbooks

240 notes · View notes

enchantedwitchling · 10 months

Text

Working with Herbs: Herbal Magic for Beginners

🌿🌱✨

In the gentle embrace of nature, lies a treasure trove of potent magic waiting to be unlocked—herbs. Whether you're new to the world of witchcraft or looking to deepen your connection with nature's gifts, herbal magic is a beautiful and accessible way to infuse your craft with natural energies.

🌟✨

In this blog post, I'm excited to share what I have learnt so far about herbal magic and how I incorporate these amazing plants into my practice and everyday life.

🌟✨

1.Understanding the Magic of Herbs 🌿🔮

Every herb possesses unique properties and energies that can enhance our intentions and spellwork. From lavender's calming influence to rosemary's protection, getting to know these herbal allies is the first step in crafting powerful magic.

2.Creating Herbal Infusions and Teas ☕🌱

Herbal infusions and teas are delightful ways to work with herbs. As we steep them in hot water, we release their essence, creating brews that can be used for healing, meditation, or simply as a comforting ritual.

3.Herbal Baths and Cleansing Rituals 🛀🌸

Immerse yourself in the soothing magic of herbal baths to cleanse and rejuvenate your spirit. Choose herbs that resonate with your intentions, and let their energies wash away any negativity, leaving you refreshed and ready for new beginnings.

4.Spell Bags and Sachets 🔮🌿

Spell bags and sachets are portable bundles of herbal magic that can be carried with you wherever you go. Fill them with specific herbs that align with your desires and intentions to keep their energies close at hand.

5.Incorporating Herbs in Candle Magick 🕯️🌱

Infuse your candle magick with the essence of herbs by anointing candles with herbal oils or dressing them with crushed herbs. As the candle burns, it releases the herbal energies into the universe, manifesting your intentions.

🌟✨

Working with herbs opens a gateway to a world of natural energies and ancient wisdom. As we cultivate our relationship with these botanical wonders, we find ourselves becoming more attuned to the rhythms of nature and the mysteries of the universe.

So, let's embark on this herbal journey together, where the fragrance of rosemary, the delicate petals of chamomile, and the wisdom of lavender guide us toward the art of herbal magic.

🌟✨

251 notes · View notes

generouspeachheart · 6 months

Text

"Books are a uniquely portable magic."

"I think books are like people, in the sense that they’ll turn up in your life when you most need them."

110 notes · View notes

wedarkacademia · 2 years

Text

“Books are a uniquely portable magic.”

Stephen King

559 notes · View notes

eyeselysian · 8 months

Text

Books are a uniquely portable magic.

#books and reading #book blog #booklr #book photography #books #books & libraries #bookish #book books books #photography #nature #dark academia

55 notes · View notes

livinginsideabookshelf · 1 year

Text

Books are a uniquely portable magic.

~ If you enjoy my content, I have now opened up tips on my account! Anything is appreciated, but there's no pressure! ~

161 notes · View notes

shy-girl04 · 5 months

Text

“Books are a uniquely portable magic.”

Stephen King

#quote #words #stephen king #books #reading #woman #light #on a train

31 notes · View notes

soylent-crocodile · 3 months

Text

Nawf (Monster)

(Art by @strawberry-crocodile)

(Behold, the thoroughly modern mimic! This is an idea I'm really proud of and very happy of the execution, so I think I'll let it speak for itself)

CR3 NE Tiny Fae

Nawf are fey creatures driven by a desire to steal loot and kill small creatures, and to this end, they are excellent deceivers of adventurers. It is a fact, known little outside of adventuring guilds, that adventurers often have a fondness for strange, small, ugly creatures- generally considered a symptom of adventurers often being outsiders to society themselves. Nawf excel at fulfilling this role; they are grouchy, ugly, and have strange voices (often with a unique verbal tic and a poor understanding of pronouns), but when encountered, are often helpful, inquisitive creatures. This is ultimately an act; a nawf’s goal is to be welcomed into an adventuring party, whereupon it will take the next opportunity to steal as much loot and kill as many of the party’s other small, weak companions- such as familiars and pets- as it can.

Nawf have learned many tricks to endear themselves to adventurers. One trick- considered by some ecologists to be how they started parasitizing adventurers- is to join a goblin or kobold raiding party, and to focus their attention solely on looting, rather than killing; this presents them as the most amiable of raiders, and if the plan to lure in adventurers falls short, they still make off with whatever treasure they’ve taken. Another trick favored by dungeon nawf is to trade or barter for information on the location of trapped treasure. The nawf is happy to warn adventurers of this trap; this serves the dual purpose of endearing the adventurers to them, and raising the odds that the adventurers will disarm the trap, something nawf are ill capable of doing on their own.

Despite this hatred to adventurers, nawf are surprisingly amiable to other monsters. Some serve as spies for wicked masters, helping them keep tabs on any local upstart, while others simply engage in monsterside trading, such as with a spookismus. Finally, nawf and mimics have a strange affinity for each other, and when not running a con, nawf can typically be found colluding with and even caring for these beings.

This small goblinlike creature has a porcine nose and two sets of ears- one long and hanging, the other pointed and erect.

Misc- CR3 NE Tiny Fae HD5 Init:+3 Senses: Perception: +11

Stats- Str:16(+3) Dex:16(+3) Con:15(+2) Int:7(-2) Wis:17(+3) Cha:20(+5) BAB:+2 Space:2.5ft Reach:0ft

Defense- HP:33(6d6+12) AC:15(+3 Dex, +2 Size) Fort:+3 Ref:+4 Will:+7 CMD:16

Offense- Bite +6(1d6+5 plus Grab) CMB:+3 (+4 Racial bonus to grapple) Speed:30ft Special Attacks: Rake (1d6+5)

Feats- Combat Reflexes, Stand Still, Power Attack (-1/+2)

Skills- Appraise +3, Bluff +13, Perception +11, Stealth +19

Spell-like Abilities- (CL5, Concentration +10)

Nondetection/constant

Special Qualities- Change Shape (A single small humanoid form, Alter Self), Dimensional Gullet, Speed Surge

Ecology- Environment- Urban, Caves Languages- Common, Goblin, Aklo Organization- Solitary Treasure- Double

Special Abilities- Dimensional Gullet (Su)- A nawf’s mouth is a portal to a pocket dimension, where it stores gold, other loot, and bloody trophies. It can swallow any object or fetch it from this dimension as a move action, although it cannot do so when using its bite to grapple. Additionally, this hole has similar properties to a portable hole- if one attempts to put a nawf into an extradimensional space, like a bag of holding or the aforementioned portable hole- both the object and the nawf will be destroyed in a blast that deals 5d8 force damage to all creatures within 15ft, and the contents of the nawf will be shunted to a random place in the astral plane. When otherwise slain, a nawf ejects the contents of its gullet, and the pocket dimension closes. Speed Surge (Su)- Three times a day, a nawf may call on the timeless magic of the First World to grant it a boost in speed, taking an additional move action that turn.

#soylent original #monsters and races #homebrew #pathfinder #scrimblo #goblincore #kobold #dnd #blorbo #blorbo from my games

30 notes · View notes

piinfeathers · 9 months

Note

Let's spread some love 😘. What are some of your top five favourite cs fics?

i love this oh gosh, also god i have too many ;;

ok in no particular order:

breathless by AcrobatElle - LINK

genuinely cannot emphasis enough how much EVERYONE needs to read this one. there is spice, but like the most heart wrenching, bring you to your knees, soul moving thing you've ever read. i won't spoil it but please, run don't walk to read this one

a uniquely portable magic by @wistfulcynic - LINK

listen, it actually pains to pick only one of saira's fics because i love them ALL. but if i HAD to, it would be this one. this is my desert island fic, the one i reread over and over. i can't even describe how beautifully she writes and how much every fic of hers feels like coming home, but they just do. cannot recommend highly enough just going through her archive <3

running home to your sweet nothings by @sotangledupinit - LINK

gonna be a little stinker and pick mary's most recent fic. i would have also said her run rogers run fic from christmas last year buuuuut, listen. i love her current fic. i am a sucker for EF lieutenant duckling AUs where Emma is actually given a sword and allowed to go buck wild (aka what should have actually happened in the wish realm episode SORRY) so this one really hits the spot so gooood

tactical magic by @iverna - LINK

my one true love in cs fics is witch!emma in a urban fantasy setting and i love, LOVE what svenja does in this fic. also i just love the way she writes emma and killian in all her fics, they always feel so true to the characters every single time, and she treats them both with such love and attention

iridescent blue by @pirateherokillian - LINK

listen only pip could write a werewolf story about a mauling for an event called january joy and still make it one of the sweetest things you've ever read ;; i love how she writes both emma and killian in all her fics, they always feel so real to me whenever i read her stuff

also massive shoutouts to the authors i first read when i got into the fandom and got me hooked @hollyethecurious , @the-darkdragonfly , @elizabeethan and @cosette141 please just go and raid their ao3's i'm so serious

#asks #oh god this is so long i'm SORRY #but also hey if you got witch emma fics please send them my way they're my favourite thing #cs fic rec

43 notes · View notes