#//and a lot of this is subject to change

[troublewithvampires-a]

//stealing a page out of dani's book a bit here, but i'd like to share some headcanons about sal's mom to celebrate mother's day <3 a holiday sal is always more than happy to pretend doesn't exist.

sal's mother was a woman named anna burke (formerly anna o'malley), a third-generation irish-american immigrant whose family had strong mob ties.

her parents expected her to marry a family friend's son and be part of the family business--the family business in this case being organized crime, even if anna wouldn't be working in a very direct capacity.

instead, though, anna eloped with sal's father, westley, a man she'd met while out and about with friends. her family never approved of westley for a variety of reasons, but she hardly cared--he was a way for her to escape from the expectations her family had placed on her. so, the moment she was 18, she and westley got married and ran away together.

anna and westley had four children together in total: jesse (born when anna was 21 and westley was 25), beth (born when anna was 25 and westley was 29), martin (born when anna was 30 and westley was 34), and finally, salvatore (born when anna was 35 and westley was 39).

(salvatore obviously isn't the name he was given at birth, but i'm not gonna mention his deadname in this particular post.)

(putting the rest under the cut b/c this got long)

anna and westley always wanted a big family, and they were happy with the children they were able to have, but anna did struggle quite a bit to actually conceive and suffered frequent miscarriages in her attempts to have children. she was never properly diagnosed, but she did suffer from pcos, which sal would inherit from her.

sal does look a lot more like his mother than he does his father--he has anna's hair texture and eyes, for example, and when he was younger he had the same freckles. his hair color is very much westley's, though.

westley died when salvatore was young, far too young to have much memory of him.

anna tried her best to be a good mother to her children, but the family's financial struggles after westley's death meant that she had to spend much of her time away from home and at work. feeding and caring for four growing children is expensive, after all, and anna's family wasn't exactly willing to help out at this point after she'd turned on them.

eventually, anna figured out a solution. it wasn't one she was particularly excited about, but she reasoned she had no other choice if she wanted to keep them all afloat: her kids had to pull their weight and cover their own expenses as much as possible.

by the time anna had children, child labor had already been outlawed in the united states. but anna was able to secure a few under-the-table jobs for them to help make ends meet. it was still tough, though, and over time, anna came to resent her situation, and at times she even resented her children by extension, though she forced herself not to let that show.

not that she always succeeded. salvatore best remembers his childhood as a time of constantly walking on eggshells where his mother was concerned, because one wrong step could spiral into a screaming match before he knew it.

eventually, though, anna's family reached out to her again. her brother clarence, older than her by quite a few years, came to visit her, and he told her that her family had chosen to forgive her for running away and turning her back on them. not only that, but they would be willing to help her out of the situation she'd found herself in (she chose not to think about how they knew so much).

it took quite a bit of time and discussion, but anna was given a way out of the situation she'd found herself trapped in. if she was willing, clarence could take her youngest, a scrappy and disobedient girl who always looked and acted more like a boy anyhow, and have her run jobs for some of his contacts in local gangs. nothing official just yet, considering the girl's age, but enough to lessen the financial strain on the family.

young salvatore, of course, wasn't given any say in the matter or even really told the full details of what his new position would entail. he was taken out of school and given a new life working for strange men under a new name. all the while, it was made very clear to him that his family was depending on him.

anna wasn't particularly keen on the idea, but eventually she came around. a small, terrible part of her reasoned that, if the worst were to happen, at least she would have one less mouth to feed. and until then, at least the family's financial troubles would be lessened.

[dykedvonte]

I think depictions of Anya being cruel to Curly or drawing out his suffering are artful and chilling but completely miss the point of the story and her character.

I'm not saying she doesn't deserve to have that "I told you so" moment with him but not in something callous or cold. Even if that is how it happened, she'd immediately feel guilty cause at that point she's not tormenting her tormenter or even the person truly at fault. She's doing something cathartic, similar to how Jimmy likely hits Curly to release rage he can't against the rest of the crew. She'd see herself as no different when she'd come back from the moment and see Curly cowering at her. She wants someone to take responsibility but how does being cruel to the defenseless help? Why would she want the power Jimmy has over her over Curly?

The idea of her extending someone else's pain is just so against the struggles she already faces and how she can't even bring herself to cause someone pain even to help them. Her very desire is to release herself from her own suffering and I doubt she'd even fine some sort of guilty release in being cruel to another.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

willingly unloved

[determinate-negation]

so much early amerikan history is just reading things that are casually stated but contain traces of the most immense human suffering, some of the absolute worst crimes against humanity ever committed, and its just like everywhere. whatever

[crtastrophe]

Kidpix commission for @facelessoldgargoyle! (character belongs to me)

[velvetwyrmz]

SAI major titan characters for arc 1! Valian, fjord, foewing, and Boneshield. I spelled shield wrong. My bad. Don’t tell me I don’t care.

Feel free to send asks about them

[asexual-shelly]

squeezes her like a squeaky toy

[myokk]

fast sketch of ominis & fast intro to the ominis longfic I'm working on!! This is going to be the most self-indulgent pride and prejudice ripoff that ever existed, 100% based on the ominis of my oneshot💘

I am just OBSESSED with exploring the idea that he’s a natural legilimens & OBSESSED with the thought that he thinks too much for his own good🫶🫶🫶

Ominis Gaunt has always suspected he is cold-blooded.

It makes sense, really.

He always seems to be cold: frigid, long fingers that are often stiff and difficult to move; goosebumps raising the skin of his arms and the back of his neck any time he walks through the drafty halls of the dungeons; even his eyes, he has been told, are reminiscent of ice. They are apparently quite unsettling. The only time he feels comfortable in his body is when he basks in the heat of the sun.

His earliest memory is of the cold. It went like this: he was four years old: his older brother, Marvolo, had led him outside as a joke, he swore up and down that it was just a small joke, and how was he supposed to know that poor, blind Ominis would not be able to find his way back home? When his parents had finally found him, his frail mother sobbing and holding his tiny, blue, hypothermic body to her chest, Ominis remembers feeling quite perturbed at the disturbance. Couldn’t he just be left alone, in the silent soft snow?

He does not know if he has ever felt warm since.

As he strides through the dungeons, the copious amount of warming charms he casts on himself do not seem to be enough, but he keeps casting them anyways and also: wrapping his wool scarf more tightly around his neck, quickening his pace in the hopes that blood flows more easily through his limbs, wishing that he had remembered his gloves. Winter is always a terrible time of year (this winter more terrible than usual), and every breath of warm air leaves his lips reluctantly. How he wishes that he could just hold on to it a bit longer and yet the warmth leaves him precisely fifteen traitorous times a minute, the frigid air gleefully entering and burning its way down his throat in response. Maybe it’s a punishment of some sort.

His whole life has been defined by punishments and sometimes he preoccupies himself with the thought that it is the only way he can view the world. Most of the punishments are manifested in curses inherited from his family. (His parents and Marvolo insist that they are gifts, but Ominis begs to differ.)

First, his blindness: the only true punishment-curse that even his family rejects: caused by inbreeding, no doubt. He did not cry after his birth and his mother cradled his tiny body in silent arms, lovingly whispering nonsense-evil-Parseltongue to him but when he opened his eyes and she saw a brilliant celestine blue with no iris, she screamed in horror and shattered the frigid peace of the room. His parents tried everything to fix him, make him whole, throwing money at various possible solutions to no avail. Magically induced disabilities are not, apparently, curable by magic.

Ominis is not sure that he hates being blind, although he suspects everyone thinks that he should. It is as much a part of him as his fifteen-breaths-per-minute, and he thinks that vision is not all it’s cracked up to be. He is always terrified at the thought that his tenuous hold on sanity is only due to the fact that he cannot see, until he realizes he shouldn’t be terrified of hypothetical situations that cannot come to pass. He consoles himself with the thought that maybe, if he has had to give up his vision for his sanity, it is a small price to pay. Although, he also thinks sometimes that it would be nice to live a life without any morality holding him back.

He is entirely too introspective, after all.

It is precisely this introspection that is his downfall in this moment (and his cold blood). Ominis is so busy casting warming charms on himself and thinking in circles that he cannot use his wand to help him sense his environment and so he should not be surprised when he crashes into her.

And yet he is. Terribly surprised.

Maybe if he were not so caught up in his own thoughts he could have paid more attention to his surroundings. Instead, he spent too much time ruminating on his reptilian heritage and has now barreled head first into his arch-nemesis.

Rosalie Harris.

The girl who has stolen his oldest friend from him.

The girl who is currently making angry noises as she clambers to her feet and is picking up the things that he has crashed everywhere. Even if he could see, Ominis is not sure he would help her. Helping her would be akin to betraying himself, after all.

“Hey! Watch where you’re - oh, hello, Ominis.”

“Rosalie,” he says shortly, nodding his head where he thinks she might be standing and stepping to the side. He tightens his grip around his wand, feeling the texture of the wood change from rough to smooth as he runs his thumb down it. Smooth where he always seems to worry it, rough where the wood refuses to yield to the brushes of his thumb.

He surreptitiously casts the spell - he has at least done it so many times he no longer needs to say it out loud - and his surroundings light up. Or, he supposes that is the most apt description, considering he cannot actually differentiate between light and dark. He senses Rosalie’s silhouette to his left - she is standing with her arms crossed and her foot taps impatiently as she waits for him.

Waiting for what? he thinks, slightly irritated. She never seems to leave him alone and he wracks his brain trying to think of something, anything he can say to get rid of her.

Maybe if he speaks in Parseltongue, she would finally be scared away for good. He does not really want that second reminder of his family’s curse, though.

His family preferred speaking in Parseltongue with each other, believing the ability made them morally superior to everyone else and Ominis had not even realized until he had arrived at Hogwarts that no, it was not normal. When his name had been called at the Sorting, furious whispers had erupted amongst all the students, and his every step (terrified, confused, unsure - he had still been getting used to using his wand to navigate his surroundings) to the stool at the front of the Great Hall was plagued with a susurration reminiscent of snakes. Except these whispers, sneaking their way into his mind, had been unkind and overwhelming.

(He had not realized in that moment that he was also hearing their thoughts.)

Maybe now, with Rosalie standing in front of him and just annoyingly waiting for Merlin-knows-what, Ominis should use his Legilimency to find out what Rosalie wants. (He hates it, though.) It would not be difficult. (The thought makes him shiver in horror because he doesn’t want to abuse the ability.) He can feel the edges of her mind, her magic, and all he has to do is reach out - she is right there, and -

“Ominis?”

Her arms are crossed, he hears an impatient huff.

Why hasn’t she left him alone yet?

Hadn’t the Hogwarts Express already left the station, bringing all of the students home for the winter holiday? Ominis had thought he would be one of the only students left in the castle, and if he is being honest with himself, he had been looking quite forward to having the place to himself.

Ominis’s winter has just gotten infinitely worse.

Going to Gaunt Manor for the holidays is out of the question (he will not think about the nightmares that have been plaguing him ever since he received the owl demanding he go home), and Ominis does not want to be more of a burden to the Sallows. They already do enough for him over the summer, and Sebastian and Anne have convinced him to go to Hogsmeade with them at least twice over the next two weeks. Besides, with Anne’s curse progressing, Ominis does not want to be in the way.

“Why are you still here?” Ominis asks. He knows his voice comes across as cold as his blood, blunt, but he cannot help himself. Ever since Rosalie arrived - her entrance to Hogwarts also causing quite the stir - Ominis has been intensely annoyed by her presence. She is too happy. Too carefree. Too…well, everything he is not.

And, she does not seem to leave him alone.

Rosalie is always there, always hanging around Sebastian. (Taking Sebastian away.) He even showed her the Undercroft, which had almost caused a rift in their relationship. Ominis could not believe that Sebastian would be so careless, showing someone who for all intents and purposes is crashing her way into their lives, forcing them to pay attention to her. They barely even knew her, and yet Sebastian thought it was a good idea to show her such a sacred place?

(It does not help that she is intelligent, and Ominis has caught himself on more than one occasion about to ask her about her opinion on something before he catches himself.)

“I was looking for you.”

Ominis tilts his head at that and fiddles with his ring. He considers walking away, leaving -

“I mean…Sebastian said that you were also going to be here over the holidays and since everyone else just left I thought -”

“Thought what?” Internally, Ominis winces at the biting tone to his voice. It came out harsher than he intended, his voice loud and echoing through his mind, bouncing off the cold, stone walls surrounding them.

[skishie]

recent doodles and requests

[atyourperil]

hey, actually. justice for ugly people. justice for people who have never been kissed/fucked/whatever because nobody wanted them. justice for the people who were asked out as a joke or dare as kids. people are so mean to people they think are ugly and it’s fucking unfair. it’s not a sign of a lack of worth or morality or whatever. it sucks sometimes but being unattractive isn’t a failing. you didn’t do anything wrong. beauty is not the price you pay for existing in the world.

[kosmokhaos]

𝐃'𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐩

I absolutely ✨suck✨ at taking pics of landscape/buildings, and I can't build very well so my sister made the shell for me some years ago. But I learned to convert objects so D's shop is getting an upgrade and name reveal😎

[vaperarmand]

oldbutchdaniel -> vaperarmand

[skunkes]

[chiropteracupola]

an assortment of my temeraireverse fic-dragons!

[cygnet and honoré are from fifteenth-century britain and france, aquilillus, flavia magna, and bán are from second-century britain, and cipachcoatzin is from sixteenth-century mesoamerica]

[torantuga]

doodle cus i thought of how funny it is that my redesign is so diff from og mk

[housecow]

the difference between these two 🥺 both??

funny story though. my roommate is still taking food but my memory is so bad when it comes to things i don’t eat myself (adhd)

when i talk to friends and family about the situation the first thing they ask is, “are you sure you’re not sleep eating?” which is adorable. they wanna believe, even if for a second, that maybe i’m not truly at fault for making myself into such a cow 🥺 i get it bc im getting very fat even with the thievery but at the same time. im literally being gaslit