#Auntie Prophet

[witchcatyoshiko]

“Ah, my child, I will forgive the slip of pleasantries and not count that as your question,” you raised your palm to the young woman in front of you, often those from habitual etiquette would start with such a question then cringe, worrying and pleading for another question. It was nice that such things were so ingrained into people that they would break the initial silence with such things. The whining after was rather grating so you would try to stop it before it started. You let your hand drop once more, pleating your fingers together under the thick cloth you had folded on your lap.

In the beginning you had worked hard to look regal, wearing only the tribal beads and adornments you’d originally trekked to the mountain top with but, the fact of the matter was, it’s very cold on a mountain top. So through the years you’d collected pretty blankets left from travelers and folded them around yourself like a purposeful priest robe. You smiled softly thinking of how lovely the blue of the blanket on your lap went with your “color wheel” as you’d read it in the book someone had left behind. There had been quite a bit of new ideas in that book, a window into the world far below. Of course the intense visions you got periodically also made sure you stayed in touch with the on goings of the world, you liked the books better. They were definitely less taxing on the brain.

The woman waved her hands widely, her brows knit together but her mouth breaking into a smile, “what? No no that really was my question.” She paused, looking at you expectantly but you stared back with confusion. Her eyes slowly widened, silence closing in once more, she began to make popping noises with her lips. Suddenly she shuffled, going from sitting on her legs to leaning on her side, propped up on one arm, the other expressing to the sky above her, “you see I was talking to my nephew about you, he’s very small. Not sure how old. Like one of those young ages. Like 2 or 12, probably not 12.” She chewed her lip a moment in thought then went back to her waving, “Anyway, we had got to talking about you, I don’t know. I think I mentioned you when he showed me his mashed potato mountain with a lil fried chicken bit on top and I just went ‘Oh is that the prophet?’ And he asked ‘who?’ And I said, you know the prophet guy who answers questions and so we went into it with all the questions he asks.” She made a blathering noise, rolling her hand from her mouth like she was spewing up words as she rolled her eyes, “Well anyways, as those infants do, he ran me into a corner where I just couldn’t answer. He asked ‘does anyone ask the prophet how he’s doing?’ And I said probably not because everyone has things they have to ask about and no one’s going to get all the way up there and ask how he’s doing cuz he’s probably going to say he’s fine or whatever cuz you know, no one just spews out everything to strangers when they just ask ‘how you doing?’ You’re supposed to just say fine and get on with your shopping, Nate!” She huffed, crossing her eyes and shifting to her other side, using her opposite hands to prop herself up and continue expressing, “The kid is relentless. Auntie it’s not right. Auntie someone should ask. So what if he says he’s fine. You talk a lot maybe he will too. Auntie you tell me to talk it out. You always listen to my day. So what if he’s on a mountain and only sees trees, he can have a favorite. What if a bird came by or a squirrel did a funny thing and he’s got no one to tell it to. How do you know if people chat with him after they ask their question? What if he said something they didn’t like and they just leave after yelling at him?” She rolled her hand in front of her mouth again, her voice had begun to drone in a higher pitched voice as if she were mocking the child, “You don’t have a job, you should go see him and chat. You don’t do anything anyways.” She began to gag, mock choking herself. She sat up suddenly, crossing her legs like you and cracking her neck. She pointed, “I am not unemployed. I developed tech for my uncle when I was young and we sold it. Now I just make update tech for it and I can work my own hours.” She shook her head, “but try to tell that to a kid while your brother in law works 9-5 and grumbles about you always hanging around the house eating your sister’s home-cooking.” She shrugged, “I paid for the house and my sister is a great cook. Why should I have to pretend for him?” She settled into a moody slump and silence closed around again.

You stared at her. After a few moments she began to fiddle with her pants, there seemed to be a new tear in them that she’d just noticed. You tried to hold back but you couldn’t anymore, you laughed. You laughed so hard you began to wheeze, rocking forward and back until you slipped back too far and fell backward onto your bundle of pillows. When you finally started to settle down you could hear her speaking again, “I’m not lying. The dude is broken. You broke him with your question, Nate. Not cool. Do you know how far I traveled to break a man? I’m like an assassin now. I’m gonna have to take his place like friggin Santa. I don’t know the first thing about making prophecies. No, you can’t be my elf. You have school on Monday. That’s not how time zones work and you know it.” You lifted yourself to see the woman glaring at her phone with one ear piece in. She looked up, “oh he’s up. I’ll call you back. No you can’t talk to him. I’m not letting you waste your one question on ‘what’s your favorite color?’ No that’s totally what you’d ask. Ok what would you ask? You know what, never mind I’m getting a lot of eye contact here. I’m calling you back. Bye. BYE!” She mocked anger and rolled her eyes, “Yea I love you too. Tell your mom to mail me that lasagna. No not leftovers, the exact slice on your plate. I’m eating that.” She made kissy faces at the phone, breaking into a bright smile, “love you, butt munch.” She hung up and removed the earpiece. “Sorry.” She said looking very much unapologetic as she tucked her phone away.

You pointed at the phone, “that…” you began.

She took the phone out again, “this? It’s a phone. I know you’ve been up here a while but weird you haven’t seen one from people, thought they’d take pictures or something. Uh,” she put the phone to her ear, “it’s like a way to talk to people far away.” She looked at her phone, “I had to rig mine so the brat could reach me out here. He said I could just fake it if I didn’t call while I was with you. I mean, honestly, I could probably fake it either way but ya know… “she shrugged tucking away the phone, “I had the time.”

You stared again. The utter shock was too much but she opened her mouth again and you feared she’d go into another rant so you quickly spoke up, “Can you do a phone for me too?”

She closed her open mouth then smiled, the wicked glint in here eye enhanced by the playful kid’s song playing from her phone. She answered the phone without breaking eye contact, clicking the speaker button, “Nate, guess who’s answering questions now?”

A young boy’s voice rose from the phone, “Mom says if you’re Santa now you can have your elves make you lasagna”

You have been a mountaintop prophet for 1,000 years. Each person only gets one question and you’re sure you’ve heard every question that can be asked. Until one day someone uses their one question to ask, “How are you doing?”

[hadesoftheladies]

im genuinely fatigued by male heroism in literature. no i do not want a "girl-coded" villain with floppy dark hair, i want an interesting FEMALE CHARACTER GOODDDAAMMNITTTT.

I want to see an eldest daughter fighting for her family's honor. I want to see a girl facing a moral dilemma prematurely, abandoned and decieved by everyone she trusted. I want to see her revolt at the betrayal of her superiors. I want a mother to see what a monster her child has become. becoming a fugitive from her own spawn. I want to see an old woman watch those she loves die because they did not heed her warnings. I want to see old prophetesses outsmart authorities and fight to stop the inevitable. i want a bunch of sisters braving the wild because they are the only hope of a small town. a pathetic heroine who only survives because of luck and charm. young girls with strong limbs because they're used to working in factories and farms, who can run far and leap over fallen trees. who can bat a ball and scale a wall. i want girl gangs, where teenage girls get up to no good until the consequences catch up to them, or not. i want socially awkward queens who lean on the advice of aunty-like advisors, be they witches or muggle. i want to see an older sister be betrayed by the brother she raised and it climaxes in a duel. i want to see the reverse, where the brother she raised becomes her second-in-command, strong and wise because of her and wouldn't betray her for the world. i want genius little girls that are kept in secret towers because of their prophetic dreams. who terrify kings because of their intellect. i want female spies and soldiers who are stupid and devoted. i want an arrogant heroine who gets caught up in a plot bigger than she can handle. a kind girl who inevitably breaks the world and destroys everything. i want her to be destined for doom and glory. I WANT HER TO SELF-DESTRUCT IN THE FACE OF HER OWN POWER. I WANT HER DREAMS AND HOPES FOR THE FUTURE TO INSPIRE A NATION TO CHANGE, ONLY FOR HER TO LEARN THE HARD TRUTH OF THE COST OF TRANSFORMATION. I WANT HER TO WRESTLE WITH THE ISOLATION THAT COMES FROM GREATNESS. TO DESIRE LOVE AND BE TOO SHREWD TO FALL FOR IT.

I AM SO FUCKING TIRED OF BOY ANGST YOU WILL NEVER BE AS DEEP, COMPLEX OR NUANCED AS A GIRL YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THE HORRORS YOU'RE JUST A PARODY OF WOMEN'S LIVES GET OUT

[queensharotto]

Brittle Doughie’s Cookie Run x Reader Masterlist (Part 8: Summer 2024)

A masterlist of @brittle-doughie’s Cookie Run stories organized by month.

Genre Emojis

😞 is for angst, 🎃 is for Halloween, 🎄 is for Christmas, 🍪 is for Cannibalism, 💗 is for Yandere, 💝 is for Valentine’s, 👻 is for Horror, 🎂 is for Birthday, 💚 is for Yandere!White Lily Cookie, and 😈 is for Ancient Beast AU (Inspired by Cuppajj’s Beast Ancient AU)

The Indents are related to the featured cookies. If there are numerous cookies (Over 10 Cookies Featured), I’ll make a note on that as well. Additionally, I’ll categorize various cookies if they’re associated with a specific hobby, location, food etc.

Also, the ⭐️ will indicate a story featuring one of Brittle’s OCs while ✨ will indicate someone’s interpretation of Y/N Cookie.

Additionally, many people proved art to showcase to Brittle, which will be indicated by this: 🖌️. I will also mention who provided the art.

June 2024 ☀️

• “Lethality” ⭐️

Featuring: White Lily Cookie and Brittle’s OCs

• “Get Along”

Featuring: Dark Cacao Cookie and Mystic Flour Cookie

• “Back to Your Tree NOW”

Featuring: White Lily Cookie and the Five Beasts

• “Mothers of the Republic”

Featuring: Madeleine Cookie, Clotted Cream Cookie, Light Cream Cookie and Grand Madeleine Cookie

• “Pearly Contemplation”

Featuring: Peppermint Cookie and Oyster Cookie's Envoy

• “A Warm Welcome”

Featuring: Strawberry Stick Cookie and Mint Wafer Cookie

• “Yin and Yang”

Featuring: Peach Blossom and Affogato Cookie

• “Can’t We ALL Just Get Along”

Featuring: The Ancients and the Beasts

• “Walls of the Baker”

Featuring: The Ancients and the Beasts

• “I Don’t Remember You”

Featuring: Dark Cacao Cookie and Mystic Flour Cookie

• “Fishing Season”

Featuring: The Five Beasts

• “Cuddles”

Featuring: The Ancient Cookies

• “Corruption”

Featuring: White Lily Cookie

• “Stepparent”

Featuring: Clotted Cream Cookie and Light Cream Cookie

• “Auntie Time”

Featuring: Madeleine Cookie’s Aunts

• “Embracing the Purple Warrior”

Featuring: Purple Yam Cookie

• “Peach Kisses”

Featuring: Peach Blossom Cookie and Dark Cacao Cookie

• “Marriage Ensembles”

Featuring: Dark Cacao Cookie and White Lily Cookie

• “Reunited”

Featuring: Dark Cacao Cookie and Mystic Flour Cookie

• “The Ivory Prophet Joins the Kingdom”

Featuring: Dark Cacao Cookie and Mystic Flour Cookie

• “The Ancient Beast Order” 😈

Featuring: The Ancient Beasts (AU Tag)

• “Bad Endings” 😈

Featuring: The Ancient Beasts

• “The Prophet of Salvation” 😈

Featuring: Beast Pure Vanilla Cookie and Black Raisin Cookie

• “The Manufacturer of Darkness”

Featuring: Dark Enchantess Cookie and Red Velvet Cookie

July 2024 🎆

• “Fork This! I Quit!”

Featuring: Timekeeper Cookie

• “The Lover of Passion” 😈

Featuring: Beast Hollyberry Cookie, Tea Knight Cookie, Pitaya Dragon Cookie and Wildberry Cookie

• “Illusion of Dreams”

Featuring: Clotted Cream Cookie

• “Ancient Heroes Roast”

Featuring: Shadow Milk Cookie

• “Mermaid to Cookie”

Featuring: Crimson Coral Cookie

• “Volition’s End”

Featuring: Mystic Flour Cookie and Cloud Haetae Cookie

• “Amigurumi”

Featuring: The Ancient Cookies

• “Ticklish” 😈

Featuring: Beast Pure Vanilla Cookie

• “Return to Sender”

Featuring: Strawberry Stick Cookie and Mint Wafer Cookie

• “It’s Gonna Be A LONG Ride”

Featuring: Numerous Cookies

• “Hissy Fits”

Featuring: Pure Vanilla Cookie and Shadow Milk Cookie

• “Gwimbly Cookie”

Featuring: Strawberry Cookie

• “Aerokinesis”

Featuring: Gingerbrave, Snakefruit Cookie and the Five Dragons

• “Heartfelt Unison”

Note: Y/N Cookie’s Skill

• “Thank You Y/N Cookie! Your Princess ISN’T in Another Castle” ⭐️

Featuring: Crowned Cupcake Cookie

• “Cookie Flipside”

Featuring: Light Cream Cookie

• “Soda Adventure 2: Draw Your Blade”

Featuring: Cream Soda Cookie and Cherry Cola Cookie

• “Superstar! The Cookie Olympics Event!”

Featuring: Ice Candy Cookie, White Choco Cookie, Choco Bar Cookie, Skating Queen Cookie and Muscle Cookie

• “I’ll Wait For Your Return”

Featuring: Caramel Arrow Cookie, Black Raisin Cookie, Stardust Cookie and White Lily Cookie

• “Raspberry Rose”

Featuring: Raspberry Mousse Cookie and Rose Cookie

• “La Resistance”

Featuring: Black Raisin Cookie

August 2023 🌅

• “Love You or Not” ⭐️

Featuring: Royal Icing Cookie

• “Lines”

Featuring: Royal Margarine Cookie, Pastry Cookie, Parfait Cookie, Twizzly Gummy Cookie and Licorice Cookie

• “Spice and Zest”

Featuring: Crushed Pepper Cookie and Lemon Zest Cookie

• “Keeping Friends Close and Best Friends Closer”

Featuring: Cream Soda Cookie and Cherry Cola Cookie

• “Compliments”

Featuring: Dark Cacao Cookie and Mystic Flour Cookie

• “Tale of the Mansion” 🍪

Featuring: The Juice Bar Regulars

• “A Little Help”

Featuring: Star Coral Cookie

• “Feathered Envy”

Featuring: Blue Slushy Cookie, Red Panna Cotta Cookie, Sugar Swan Cookie, Pilot Cookie, The Cookiemals and Whipped Cream Cookie

Divider Source l Next Masterlist l Previous Masterlist

[jacks-best-kid]

My daddy/mommy jack said I should do this

I'm Daniel Hearth, magic kid of @demigod-jack-hearth

I'm 15 years old

My siblings are :

@that-girl-cupid - I like her hair

@ariathemortal - she's nice

@love-lightning-forethought

@nicoswill2live - she needs help

@kaiaalwayswins

@champion-of-revenge

@clown-energy-skyrocketing

@zoe-aura-of-d3ath

@itsyourboyezra

@lunar-eklipso-r

@pink-koi-lovejoy

@that-daughter-of-athena -shes nice

@sleepy-as-a-song - he sleeps a lot

@smileyalater - I like her dog

@daughter-ofthe-moontitan

@thedaughter-of-death

@gellyhelio

@demeters-daughter-is-done - she's got cool plants

Other people

@bast-the-best26 - grandma

@unhinged-waterlilly - my sister... I think?

@silena-daughterofaphrodite - she's pretty

@zariahthewitch - magic girl

@the-goddess-aphrod1te - auntie Ditty

@kamala-msmarvel-khan - auntie fire

@the-goddess-circe - auntie magic

@cloak-of-ares - Mr angry man/uncle A

@heraaaaaaaa - auntie queen

@unproblematic-hestia

@theycallmejeezycreezy - uncle J

@queenofthedeep - auntie ocean

@giant-prophetic-snake - uncle snake

@the-bosses-of-you - kitties

@sophia-goddess-of-spring - auntie flower

@penelope-sato - penny (my bestie)

@silena-daughterofaphrodite - auntie Sil (she's really pretty)

Face claim

Cat form

(I also run the blog @the-goddess-circe @demigod-jack-hearth @scylla-weird-kid @flaming-feline @demigod-of-all

[taterfics]

Oracle

Chiiiiile, now y'all know auntie is rusTEEE, but imma try! As usual, MINORS DNI, if I catch you, it's yo ass! My characters black. Blackity black black black.

If there was one thing Nella Jones could count on in life, it was her magic. There was no problem too big or too small that could stop her from meeting her goals. But , as she watched her beloved King T’Challa be tossed to his death at the hands of his brutish cousin, N’Jadaka, her magic was of no use. 

She could not save him.

For generations, the women of the Masu tribe performed an ancient, sacred magic both admired and feared among any that considered themselves fortunate or misfortune enough to know. It controlled the flow of the economy in Wakanda, helped them predict certain trends and possible natural phenomena that could affect the pricing and value of their goods. Seers, prophets, migratory folk who were seen as either an omen or a blessing in disguise.

Like their cruel new king, Nella was not from Wakanda, did not feel the soil of her mother’s homeland under her feet until she was nearly an adult, after her estranged grandmother beat down her mother’s door and took her by force. 

Nella’s mother had been excommunicated from the family due to her lack of magical talent. All her life, Nella had known her mother to be a tall, proud woman, but the woman who fell to her knees in front of the veiled woman on their doorstep was not her mother. No, she was the same hurt girl that once begged her parents not to send her away, now begging the same woman to not take her child, her baby, the one thing she lived for. Her mother’s pain was hard to hear, hard to look at, and when she had stood tall in defense of her mother, barely sixteen years old, she was winded, knocked off of her feet by the sheer weight of the spear of the Dora Milaje. They bound her arms and her legs, carrying her away from the only family she had truly known. To the day she could still hear her mother’s agonized screaming as her grandmother dropped money at her feet, as if it were a viable substitute for stealing away the one thing she cared about the most.

Now, years later, Nella sat in a very similar position to the one her mother had many years ago but she was not there to beg, or to plead. She had seen him, had watched him scream for the elders to burn the gift of Bast as if it were nothing, as if the greatness of his own legacy was nothing more than shit beneath his shoes, and they did it. They did it because they feared their king. She may not have been born in the land, but the blood of Wakanda pumped through her veins, so when she watched him grab her Auntie Funke by her neck, when he cursed at her, she couldn't take it anymore, and she wasn’t that same scared little girl who had been struck down by the Dora Milaje in an attempt to defend her mother, but this time, her anger could not be tampered so quickly.

Shouts of  surprise tinged with fear erupted through the halls as the flames grew higher, and higher, far beyond what any of them expected. It was at that moment that she saw the gears turning in her aunt’s head. Because of her temper, because of her rage, she was going to expose the secrets of the Masu people that they had kept sacred for many, many generations. Funke dropped the torch she had been holding, running to her niece, who was on her knees, staring blankly as she watched the legacy of the Black Panther, a warrior sent to her people by the Goddess herself, be reduced to nothing but ash in the wind.

When he turned and looked down at her, she could see his lips moving, but she couldn’t differentiate the sounds, feeling her auntie shake her vigorously against the pounding in her ears. Her entire body was hot, and her hands trembled, wet with sweat unassociated with the blazing inferno around her. In an instant, her mind was transported to another time, another life, when life was much simpler.

September 12th, 1998

Charleston, SC

You said

You’d be here by nine

Instead you took your time

You didn’t think to call me

Here I sit, trying not to cry

Asking myself why, you do this to me, boy

There was hardly a time in Harriet Jones’ car where the two occupants usually present were quiet, but hardly didn’t mean never, and it was one of those rare times. One might ask why, but one look at the shining black eye on the face of the younger occupant would tell you all you needed to know. 

Little Janella Jones had gotten into a fight. And said fight led her to being suspended. They had been driving for quite some time, just sitting in silence, until Harriet seemed unable to take it anymore and she pulled the car over, killing the engine as she did so.

“You can’t hold your tongue forever, you know,” she said, the silence that met her almost like it was charged with lightning.

“Why I don’t got no daddy?” Of all the words she thought the little girl would say, this clearly was not it, seeing the way that she recoiled at the question. Harriet cleared her throat, looking at her daughter with a concerned look. 

“Of course you have a father, Janella, and I wish you would speak English properly, like Mommy, see?” She ignored her mother’s words. There was nothing wrong with the way she talked, she talked just like everybody else. As long as she was understood, she didn’t see the problem.

“McKenzie Talbert say I don’t got no daddy and cause I don’t got no daddy, that make me a bastard, so why don’t I got no daddy?” She stared her mother in the eyes, and she could see the woman struggling to some up with an answer, a lie. Nella had learned at a very young age that her mother was a liar, but she never understood why her mother lied, nor had she ever tried to question her. But today something was different today.

It was earlier in the day when she sat in her fifth grade social studies class and listened to the girls behind her talk about the father-daughter lunch date coming up. She usually thought nothing of such things, until she heard nothing of it.

“You think Nella daddy gon’ come?”

“Girl you know Nella ain’t got no daddy.”

“How Nella don’t got no daddy? Everybody got a daddy.”

“Hush, you being loud, my nana said she ain’t got no daddy.”

“You mean like he had died or somethin’?”

“Nooooo. She. Ain’t. Got. One. My nana said it’s cause her mama like girls so she don’t got no daddy and they goin’ to hell because she gone be a bulldagger just like her mama.”

Nella hadn't been able to hold her tongue and she turned around and started yelling at her classmates for talking about her and her mama like that, and that her mama wasn’t going to hell because she was a good person and God liked good people, unlike her mama who sold coochie on 53rd. The teachers jumped in when the girls started fighting, Nella had a black eye, and McKenzie Talbert was missing a patch of hair from the front of her head, so she felt they were even. The teachers and the principal didn’t seem to think so, and they were both suspended for five days.

“Nella, the circumstances of your conception, it is something that you will just have to learn about when you get older. Now is not a time to have such a discussion–”

“Then when, Mama?! When the right time?! When I’m in high school? When I’m in college? When I get a job? Tell me!” Harriet pinched the bridge of her nose, a sign that her patience with her child was running thin.

“Nella, I understand that you are upset, but it’s not so simple as telling you. When you are old enough to understand–”

“STOP SAYIN’ THAT!” At her yell, sparks flew from the radio, the scent of smoke filling the air as the radio short circuited, the tape from the cassette in the player flew out, covering the two in the brown streamers. When Nella looked over at her mother, the woman stared at her with wide eyes, her bottom lip trembling as tears streamed down her face. Nella had never seen her mama cry before, and it was in that moment that she decided that she would lose her temper again.

Present Day

Wakanda

The memory of her mother’s tear streaked face wasn’t enough to stop the irate woman, nor were her aunt’s pleadings for her to calm herself. 

This man, this demon was destroying the one place she called home piece by piece and no one was doing anything to stop him. 

“Please, my King, I have done all that you ask,” Auntie Funke pleaded, shielding Nella’s body with her own. “The heart shaped herb is no more, she is just a girl, let her go.”

“Nah,” the voice above them spoke, soft, yet commanding, as if they were speaking casually about the weather. 

“Lil Bit here look like she got sum’ she wanna say to me,” he said, circling the two women, dirt caked into their vibrant purple robes. “Whatchu gotta say Lil Bit?” He stopped in front of them, looking down with that infuriating smirk that made Nella’s muscles tense, Auntie Funke’s tight grp doing nothing to stop her as she rose to her full height, white hot anger coursing through her veins as she slammed her hands flat against his chest, a shockwave of energy going through the room as Wakanda’s new king was launched away from them, right into the flames that he had demanded be set to burn the gift of Bast. 

Nella heard more than felt her knees hit the ground, her body exhausted as she breathed heavier, feeling lighter than she had in a very long time. But that lightness was short-lived when he emerged from the flamed, fury written on his features, seemingly unfazed by the burn.

He approached her, slapping her auntie to the ground and grabbing her by the throat, his punishing grip closing around her throat as she swung wildly, mostly hitting the air, but the moment her open palm connected to his face, it was as if the entire world went blank.

Just as easily as her mind went blank, there was a burst of color, and images flew before her eyes, sounds and smells touching her senses that caused her body to react. She saw many that she knew, and many that she didn’t. But most of all, there was him. He, who had taken from her what she loved the most, would give her what she begged on her knees for, countless nights on her knees, her forehead touching the dirt as she committed prayer after prayer to the wind, hoping that it would reach the ears of Bast.

Jakari.

[moonssugar]

im sorry if i were helaena targaryen i would start religious engineering so hard to create a dedicated bubble of prophet followers to protect me from my family's bullshit. "are you saying helaena should start her own cult to defend herself because shes a prophet and the smallfolk love her so she can use that to her advantage?" auntie rhaenyra is already doing it with her dragons and the religions significance they carry to use it to her advantage in the war. if she did it so can helaena. "so you endorse women manipulating people?" yeah its hot when women religiously engineer situations next

[cevans-is-classic]

I now have this whole idea of prophetic reader being a "kind of' step parent to grogu?

Cuz like Djarin and Grogu live together, and sometimes the reader does too, except the reader also doesn't, but also, Grogu will go to the couch and see the reader laying across Djarin's lap on a pillow.

Except they don't ever talk to each other like Auntie Bo-Katan and Djarin talk to each other — real conversations that make sense .

Instead Grogu is always standing between reader is his dad wondering what the hell they're talking about and Why is Dad pointing a finger at reader who is holding a mud ball above their head and why is reader as red as the sun while Dad is fixing the ship?

Auntie Bo-Katan says that Dad and Reader both need to get over themselves and hold hands or something, and I, grogu, really want Dad and Reader to stop looking at each other when they should be feeding me.

[pastel-rights]

“…who… who did this to you? Which one of those wretched vermin… would dare lay their hands on you… was it him? That wretched, false prophet? Or that traitorous ruler descendant…? Or that stupid bunny man… Auntie…? Auntie…!”

[tasmiq]

Jumu'ah Sohbet: 27 September 2024

This week was where I gratefully realised why I have always shirked counseling from a Psychologist or even a Psychiatrist. They predominantly bring their knowledge gained from secular sources and, therefore, are perceivably hollow without spiritual insights and foresights. A flash of the obvious again dawned on my consciousness, that I have indeed gained a 'life coach' through Sufism, which has completed the jigsaw puzzle of my life in its past, present and future. Insha'Allah, this insight remains my foresight as I spontaneously reflected with your Aunty Amira, without (ego) and within (to Allah).

#1. Let's begin with our virtual catch-up with your Aunty Amira herself. Within our various different contexts, we reflected on how a socially just and progressive programme amidst humanity can almost immediately lead to its direct opposite. We were puzzling to understand what makes mankind so prone to such polarised behaviour.

Inherently, I was left reflecting on Sufi Psychology where it is testament to humanity's downfall in following their own free will. How gracious was/is Allah to have faith in us to choose Him, and how foolish we can be as humanity that fall trapped in following our nafs (lower-self / ego) and/or Shaytaan's evil will, instead!

#2. Our heartsmith Shaykh Nishaat powerfully reflected that we sometimes go through life, where nothing may change. Neither our perceptions nor our understanding. However, Allah and the Prophet (SAW) are still in charge. And, Alhamdulillah that we're programmed to be open-minded Sufis. In our lives, Allah creates certain opportunities to learn Him. For every situation that we find ourselves in, Allah is the Creator of it, and He owns it. In that situation, He also creates opportunities for us to reflect and manifest His attributes.

Allah says in the Qur'an that we can react in three ways, but forgiveness is better! It is an opportunity for us to manifest and practice forgiveness. But, most of us choose not to take that opportunity, and we focus on what has happened in front of us and judging others. We can use these opportunities to learn patience, mercy, give love, be kind, generous, and so on. Allah is the Creator of opportunities in our lives. Whether we accept or don't, is our choice or free will.

#3. Our beloved heartsmith next made a personally poignant reflection. When something happens like our accident, we cannot simply blame Allah for it as a curse! It took three years for me to see that Allah is creating an opportunity for me to earnestly learn and serve Him. After all, Allah assures us that all good is from Him, and evil and bad are from what He created in us humans. We therefore have to overcome the evil within His creation that we created ourselves. We have to use the opportunities in every moment to see what Allah is showing us. What should we be learning from it? Not what others should be learning and instead what we ought to be because it is our individual path and journey.

The Sufi path is a hard path because we face ourselves in every moment. This is why our Prophet Muhammad (SAW) said that we are moving from the small jihad (social or political struggle) to the big jihad (the struggle against one's own passions and impulses). The jihad of the nafs is the big jihad. The reality that we inevitably have to accept is that all good is from Allah, and the bad and evil is from that which He created. However, we have to foremost recognise the nafs within us before we look at the other person.

#4. Given new additions to our spiritual family, Anne (our spiritual mother) sweetly and deeply clarified some protocols and adhab (respect) in our relationship as murids (Sufi tariqa followers):

- We have a mutual understanding that we don't engage the details of romantic relationships or business matters. The spiritual emphasis is always on what we as individuals need to learn from a particular situation.

- As a later murid of Shaykh Taner, her own mother initially assumed that life was harder as Sufis. However, it is just about using our lives as a learning platform to get to know and get closer to Allah.

- In the world, we are like fish swimming in water and always wondering where Allah is and what water itself is. "That is humanity because we are literally swimming in Allah, and even that is within our unique flow in that!"

- Anne clarified that although she's friendly in nature, she can't be like a normal friend and instead a spiritual mother to us.

- We are Sufis because we want to know our relationship with Allah, where we discover a certain sweetness and healing there. It is like bees making honey from certain flowers. We Sufis make honey with certain flowers. Whatever flower we are taking the pollen out of, that is what our honey is going to smell and taste like. The miracle of flowers and bees is that there is a magnetic field around the plant, and it signals the bee that it has pollen. There are certain situations that Allah makes us live to teach us and make a certain flavour to our "honey" or purpose. Subhana'Allah (Divine glory) for such intricate and subtle realities that we share our world with!

Above: Your Nana and Nanu's (maternal grandparents) poetic tree from which your swings are hoisted to, that houses not only a busy beehive but a blue-headed lizard which we discovered. Shukran Ya Allah (Divine gratitude)!

#5. Anne declared that this year's homework is for us to familiarise ourselves with the Murids Manual. What saved me from drowning in self-pity as an accident survivor three years on and made me surrender to the natural logic of Sufism was your Abbu's same idea of reading it.

This time, I was blown away by Anne's reading of the levels of the nafs and why it is not prioritised within our Sufi Tariqa. "All seven levels of nafs have a Nafs al-Ammara (commanding ego)! Each level has the other seven levels within it. This is why we don't compare people, lessons, or dreams!" Anne clarifying the extent of complexity in dealing with nafs oddly provided a balm to my bruised spiritual chemistry because it explained how we as humanity can get ourselves in a tizzy, at the best of times!

In conclusion, Shukran Ya Allah (eternal Divine gratitude) that we have developed Sufi perception points which makes Sufi Psychology a relevant and medicine-free self-help tool.

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Third writing masterpost

Because Tumblr hates me by having a link limit

First masterpost here

Second masterpost here

Newest to oldest!

CR era WangXian get hit with a horny curse

Cold feet - Modern AU, WangXian see a wedding planner

Where is our little girl? (in the plot of land where you buried her) - there's something wrong with Jiang Yanli

All grown up - the kids aren't really kids anymore

Working hard (and hard at work) - LWJ is busy and WWX is so not helping

Assisted suicide - the "it was all a dream" trope but terribly angsty

No simping in the Cloud Recesses!! - The Lan juniors simp over WWX

Marital surprises - LWJ comes home to find his husband wearing something surprising

My Xue Yang writing era - collection of angst ficlets in which various people die

Moods - Lan Wangji is horny for his husband

Joint efforts - Yiling Wei sect AU, sect leader Wei organizes a night hunt and Hanguang-Jun is being thirsty about it

Fluff requests list - always open

White lies - a Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang fake dating modern AU (+ a side of NieLan)

Practice - the juniors take a parenting class

Slug adventures - Lan Zhan is drunk and has feelings about slugs

Boredom - Wei Ying is bored waiting for his husband to wake up

In the 5 am light (you carry my fears as the heavens set fire) - what if WangXian slept together at the beginning of the book

A ficlet about veils

Missing you - Cloud Recesses era after Wei Wuxian left and Lan Zhan's feelings about it

Pit of vipers - Nie Huaisang gets new pets and Jin Guangyao narrowly avoids the consequences of that

Home - Lan Zhan stays

Afterglow - part 2 to the "what if LWJ could be even hotter actually" AU

Thank you - Jin Ling forgives his da-jiu

Debt - Nie Huaisang owes Wei Wuxian, and his brother

Dancing through the night - Wei Ying teaches his husband how to dance

Lightning strike - the "what if LWJ could be even hotter" AU in my mind (not JC friendly)

Sip the gossip (drink till you choke) - the juniors go to a bar and defend their seniors' reputations

Cursed - Lan Jingyi takes a hit for his best friend. Things don't go as planned... not at first, at least.

Aphrodisiac foods - Wei Wuxian eats strawberries and Nutella and Lan Zhan wants to eat him

Lan Sizhui records his memories and his dads have feelings about it

Dirty mind - Yiling Wei sect AU, sect leaders Wei and Lan settle a treaty. Lan Zhan has a massive competence kink.

Prophetic - Qin Su receives a message from the future

New recruits - Yiling Wei sect AU, Wei Wuxian receives two new disciples

A-Yuan asks where auntie Qing and uncle Ning have gone off to

A series of university events - Lan Jingyi and the juniors going through some of my funniest university memories

Chain smoking - Wei Wuxian shares his worries over a cigarette

Women's business - sect leader Wen Qing and sect leader Qin Su discuss things and flirt during

The language of flowers - Wei Wuxian loves flowers... and nothing bad happens

No recollection (part two linked there) - an AU in which Wei Wuxian reincarnates with no memories of his past life... well, almost.

You're enough - Canon-with-A/B/O AU, non-explicit

[quornesha]

Boat Billed Heron Prophecy And Symbolism

The Following Channel is from higher powers, Divine, the ancestral plane and is prophetic through Quornesha S. Lemon|

Whether the repeatedly appears in dreams, visions, waking life or synchronicities, it is a sign and message for you to pay attention to the letters ‘T & I’ over the coming days, weeks and months. There was someone who treated you despicably.

It is imperative that you pay attention to your surroundings, as these are messages as to the projects coming up over the coming days, weeks and months ahead. You’re getting ready to have access to a new level of prosperity that no one can take away from you. Pay attention to songs, music on the street and the way people are interacting with you. Pay attention to the music you sing or dance to out of the blue. You are a high priest/priestess and you know the truth without having to ask. And when you ask for the truth you’re giving the person an opportunity to come clean and confirm what you already . You have a level of superiority over things in your life and this is how it will always be.

The Boat Billed Heron is a sign that some things are about to be exposed to the light and anything counterfeit in your life will be put to the ultimate test. You deserve authentic connections with people that you deal with. You deserve a love you don’t have to check. You deserve a love you don’t have to look over your shoulder at or behind. Days of paranoia and constantly being in an era of defensiveness are coming to a close. You are going to come into contact with a ancient secret that will benefit you and your household. Take this information and apply it. Your greatest wish is about to be granted. Take into account all of the things that are coming to an end. It is symbolic of the breakthrough that is coming. The temporary provision is drying up.

A New season is coming in that brings with it new harvest and greater horizons. These closures are blessings in disguise. The Boat Billed Heron is also a warning that if you sense there’s some infidelity in your partner, most likely it is true to an extent. Whether this be a little white lie, financially, emotionally or sexually. If there are no signs of infidelity and your instincts aren’t warning you then it is a sign of a break down in communication. It doesn’t matter if 10,000 tell you something about someone. Trust your own intuition and it will never lie. Sometimes you have to lose the counterfeit in order for what’s real and genuine to be found. Trust that divine/God has a plan to replace what was lost. And you will not continue on this journey alone.

A companion and soul partner is coming into your life. Life isn’t always fair with the types of people we have to deal with and learn from, but beloved, it’s about to get good. A new day dawns and that will no longer be your story. If you’re an auntie, your job is to be the chain-breaker, an uncle the intercessor and a grandmother has superiority over all things in the realm of spirit. Step into your power and call it back from seen and unseen realm that has taken advantage of it. Whatsoever divine/God wants you to have, you’ll have it and in a fragment of time.

This message isn't, obviously resonant with all whose paths it crosses, as perhaps you may encounter someone of this vernacular, mastery or skill. Therefore, it is a sign from the universe that you're meant to work with such a person. 

Need further clarity or your own queries answered? Book your own reading as my schedule is full and I do not guarantee a reply on social media regarding this post.

If this is not you, then it is time to get clear to rejoin your tribe or the rest of the world of infinite beings. It's time to bring your light to the forefront. However, if you aren't able to invoke, heal or otherwise on your own, call on the assistance of shamans, healers, intuitive people, etc. to assist you. This synchronicity can possibly have specific meanings for you, it's time to get insight. 

The Gift that Quornesha Has can never be duplicated, She is a Shaman, Writer, Healer,  And Teacher with incredible prophetic/healing gifts. Please do not infringe upon her rights as the author. You are not permitted to reuse, nor are you to sale as you wish. This information has been made available to you for the purpose of introduction and demonstration. All rights reserved. If you'd like to use this in a magazine, online publication, or other, please ask for permission first. Legal actions will be taken if you proceed to impose. Be blessed, bless others and be at peace on your journey. What you do is coming back on you. Make sure that it is good, and all is well within you, through you and around you.  The source sees all and knows what you think it does not. 

[pokemonveterinarian]

hoagie snitched.

what's wrong?

also you can't say that nothing happened because Auntie did hear you screaming/yelling from the backyard.

Ah uh... What a surprise. Dammit Hoagie...

Anyway, I had a dream

A dream I've been having

Prophetic, almost

It usually revolves around Giratina

He talks to me in a language I can't understand

This one was scary, though, it was... distorted. Like I was IN Giratina's realm

I don't know what he wants from me, and I'm starting to get scared

Especially because... Ah, I'll put this under the cut

Especially because, right before I woke up, it cut to my mangled corpse

[carters-blender]

"Kayah May had been called many things. Her mother called her meticulous. Her father called her mercurial. Her siblings called her either an idiot or an inspiration depending on the day. And Ahnah called her sharp in the prophetic sort of tone Ahnah always used. She liked to call herself strong."

Name:

Kayah May

Age:

33

Profession:

Soldier, Sergeant (Unit 0617)

Personality:

Independent, clever, loyal, head strong

Details:

Kayah May comes from a large extended family and community in the Midlands, a land slowly being encroached upon on either side by the two warring powers. She had always been a good fighter and a talented hunter so in her twenties she decided to join one side of the war, hoping that her actions could help protect and ensure her community. She isn't the only Midlander to make similar choices, but it is still rare and she is made to feel like she is an outsider at nearly every turn. She decided that that treatment was fine since she already had a community and family back home and she didn't need anyone new. She wouldn't rely on anyone. When she gets pulled into a friend group she has to face how much she might have actually been missing. When she witnesses how Elan is treated by most of the leadership she has to face some of the questionable things she has been allowing herself to turn a blind eye to. And when her new unit is sent out into the icy wilds of the Midlands she has to face just what she has lost in leaving- and the question of if she can return to the world she knew.

Physical Description:

Almond shaped dark brown eyes. Long silky black hair, typically worn in braids. Short but with a gymnast build, lean and strong muscles. Bronzed brown skin, warm undertones. High cheekbones, oval face shape, friendly resting expression.

Friend(s):

Jove Marsch, Elan, Nieve Dunn, Ferah Kamari, and Abrahan Silva

Partner(s):

Jove Marsch and Elan

Family:

Ahnah (auntie, not blood-related), Kele May (father), Tiva May (mother), Hania May (brother, older), Tawa May (brother, younger)

[teddyniffler]

Chapter 27: The Burrow

“And this, Garreth, was why your auntie wanted to speak with you before you arrived” Mr Weasley told his son.

Typical Garreth to foil a plan that should have been failproof.

“I was not going to show my face in public, I had, um, a rather unfortunate reaction to one of my grooming tonics, but never mind that. How did it come to be that Sebastian Sallow is in our bathroom right this second? He’s meant to be in St Mungos! The Prophet said he went missing and they’ve been looking for him. Oh my, you kidnapped him, did you? You’re kidnappers!”

Garreth’s green eyes lit up with excitement.

“No, of course they did not kidnap him, don’t be ridiculous.” Professor Weasley had appeared at the back door, letting herself in as Garreth’s mother greeted her.

"You were meant to meet me this morning." She reminded Garreth sternly.

“Sebastian Sallow’s in my home!” Garreth repeated in a loud whisper, awestruck. “Did you know? And is it true, did he really kill his un-“

The look from both his parents and auntie silenced him in seconds.

“Okay, okay, Sorry, I’ll just be quiet.” He said, defeated, but still very eagerly looking from his parents, wanting answers this very second.

“Sebastian is in our home as he is not well, we are caring for him and no, he did not do what he was accused off.” Mrs Weasley said, hushing her boy with one look as Garreth opened his mouth again, a light in his eye.

“Of course.” Garreth said. “But what about St Mungos?”

“They were no longer suitable for him.” Matilda said.

“Yes, but how exactly did he get here, you’re all stalling, come on, tell me.” Garreth begged, now bouncing on the tips of his toes, but nobody was going to answer him, for footsteps on the stairs announced Sebastian’s return.

A few moments later, Sebastian returned to the living room, he lowered himself onto the couch. He looked flushed and a little sick, As Garreth watched, he sipped from a small cup on the coffee table next to him.

“Hi Sebastian.” Garreth nodded to him. “Good to see you again.”

Sebastian’s eyes flickered over him, he blinked and as Garreth watched, it seemed his ex-classmate’s eyes lost a little focus.

Garreth moved his eyes away respectfully, he had witnessed enough already to avert his eyes. This wasn’t normal for Sebastian, who was normally alert and watchful. The classmate Garreth remembered was forthcoming and approachable, even for a Slytherin.

The Sebastian that Garreth knew would often ask about his latest invention, would often offer sweets or secret Dueling club invites, which Garreth would turn down. He was an inventor, not a dueler. The Sebastian in front of him now, was as far from Sebastian as could be. He didn’t even look entirely like himself if Garreth was being honest. He looked slightly drunk, his eyes dull and unfocused, his hair wasn’t the normal stylishly disheveled look, but more bed head, even his clothing looked easy to remove and Garreth was sure he could see nightwear underneath.

One thing was certain to Garreth, the boy in front of him wasn’t going to be duelling so much as a practice dummy for a long time.

“So” Professor Weasley said, now sitting at the kitchen table, “Sebastian is here, in our family home, but nobody can know he is here, and Garreth, that is very important. When you go back to Hogwarts, you can’t tell anybody Sebastian is here, for everybody’s safety”

Matilda glanced at her brother and his wife, sharing a look between the three of them.

They knew and had agreed to host Sebastian, despite knowing the most powerful wizarding family of all time was after him and his sister.

Nobody had any reason to even connect the Weasleys with the boy. They were not related, their son wasn’t really very close to Sebastian, both being in different houses, and as much as they knew, - not that it made any difference to them -, this boy was a half blood, they were purebloods.

Sebastian likely had come from a small sized family, who were sadly no longer with them. Both families did not know each other, they lived in two different countries and no connection had ever been made.

They were safe as long as Garreth understood the importance of not speaking out.

“To affirm what your aunt said, you can’t tell anybody, not even your friends, not even Sebastian’s friends, that he was ever here. They are things you are still too young to understand, both of you are, the very way our world works. School is one thing, but this has far reaching consequences. Some families appear normal, yet the power they hold, is more than you could understand right now. If any family come here, Sebastian is simply one of our foster children, he will be up in his room. He is here because his parents were killed in the recent goblin uprising, he was hurt in the same attack. Can you remember that?” Mr Weasley asked his son.

“Sure! Yes!” Garreth said.

Oh this was something else entirely, what were his parents mixed up in? He always thought life was too quiet and dull within the burrow, their little home with their pigs and chickens, but now his parents decide to get all adventurous while he was away at school.

“Nobody will know from my part that Sebastian is here.” Garreth promised.

Garreth Weasley was here.

Sebastian kept glancing over at him, their eyes kept meeting as Sebastian took in Garreth’s face. It was like being in a dream. Garreth was part of his normal, pre-Azkaban life, being so near him confirmed to Sebastian that his life was slowly getting normal again. He was still watching Garreth when his eyes grew heavy and his head tilted down.

“Sebastian, do you need to go to bed?” Mrs Weasley asked him.

Sebastian opened his eyes and looked up at Mrs Weasley, it was still early, Tessie was trying to dance nearby in her Golden Snitch patterned nightdress, but he felt exhausted. He nodded, his stomach wasn’t feeling it’s best again either. Every since lunch it had been hurting him on and off in waves.

He noticed Garreth was looking at him rather questionably.

“Goodnight Sebastian” Garreth said.

Mrs Weasley helped him to wash his face and get into bed. The window was open still to allow a breeze to enter near the bed. He laid down and pulled the sheets up as Mrs Weasley turned out the oil lamps with her wand. He waited, watching the small bits of light through the door from the oil lamp out there. It wasn’t long until a shadow appeared and a small knock came on the door.

“C-come in.” Sebastian said and sure enough Garreth snuck in.

“Hey, you don’t mind me coming in here do you? Mum believes I’m washing up in the bathroom. It’s just… Merlin’s pants, Sebastian.”

Garreth moved to the bed as Sebastian sat up, the moonlight offering the only light in the room as Garreth sat down on the bed.

“They really put you in Azkaban?”

Sebastian didn’t nod, he didn’t answer that. He felt he didn’t need too, it was quite obvious for all to see.

Garreth swore and rubbed his face.

“When I heard you had been expelled, well the whole school was in shock. We all read it in the Prophet, they had to reissue an apology and everything when you were found innocent after all, but-“

Sebastian had reached over to Garreth to stop him talking.

“P-Prophet?” He asked, “The Daily P-Prophet? They’ve- mentioned me?”

Garreth suddenly looked uneasy.

“They wrote about you Sebastian, yeah. Sorry, did you not know?”

Sebastian shook his head slowly. No. Anne, nor Professor Weasley, had ever mentioned it to him. Now he was curious, why did they hide this fact?

“What…they say?” He whispered.

“Oh.” Garreth wished he had kept his mouth shut. “Well, it’s stupid really. They ran a few articles, all of them were pathetic, no way anybody would believe them. They were doing it for sales I imagine, they kept running stories about you. That you were going to Durmstrang to learn Dark Magic, that you and Gaunt were in on it, just loads of bad stuff. However, they got an interview from somebody in my house, we all know it was Leander Prewitt, he’s the only likely person. Leander, um, spilled the beans on you, he told them everything. All your detentions, your run ins with teachers. The whole school either believes you to be innocent or guilty. Leander has been getting none stop trouble over it, good I say. Professor Black threatened to ban the newspaper if any of us dares to write anything at all about you. There was an official notice pardoning you in the paper, but I don’t think everybody believed it. Ignore them though, they are just bored and you are hot gossip.”

Sebastian sat in silence. His heart thumbing.

“People think - I killed my uncle?” He asked carefully, his insides burning with guilt and shame. He alone knew the truth, so did Anne and Ominis, but he didn’t want the entire world to know.

“We saw the court reports in the Daily Prophet, what a mess Sebastian. I can’t sugarcoat that, they made a big deal of it, daily reporting all over the front page. They didn’t name you at first, but when they got your name, they sort of printed your entire life story for the whole world to see, even Anne was mentioned, at one point, they even tried to blame you for her cruse.” Garreth confessed quietly. “But they’ve all been corrected now, but there was some pretty awful gossipers in the Three Broomsticks before Christmas, Gaunt was squaring up to them at the bar, I felt like saying something myself but, well, I’m an inventor, not a fighter.” He added apologetically. “Gaunt has spunk, that’s for sure.”

Garreth bit his lip again, glanced at Sebastian and then away.

“Some of the teachers also… Well they formed their own theories I’d imagine, too many quite hours between teaching in the staff room with firewisky. Garlick always scowls when you get mentioned, I think reports of you wanting to kill Muggleborns – again a fake story – hit her hard. Onai seems to think you are the devil incarnate and Sharp has forbidden anybody from talking about you in his class, but I think that’s just him normally, rather than him showing bias.”

Sebastian looked up at the moon shinning up in the sky, the stars were all out now. He didn’t know how to feel about this. Scared that so many lies had been said about him, or horrified for how close some of it was to the truth.

“What’s… happening at Hogwarts?” He asked, then opened his mouth and found he couldn’t say the name.

Sebastian paused, he took a deep breath, he had found if he forced out his words they came out jumbled.

“Ominis?”

“Oooh!” Garreth said. “Well Gaunt is Gaunt really, he’s been scaring everybody dungless lately. He went home to his family, the Gaunts, and now he has this snake and he’s been talking with it a lot. People say its venomous and that Gaunt is setting it onto anybody who speaks ill of you, others are saying he has taken his rightful space within the Gaunt family and the snake is a sign of his alliance to his family, you know about the rumours about that family. My own family always says never cross a Gaunt, they are deranged and more powerful than they should be, well you heard their warning downstairs, I don’t think dad is over reacting… There’s also, well, Professor Black got beaten up quite badly before Easter started, and people are saying Gaunt was behind it, but I can’t see that, I mean Gaunt is decent.”

Garreth’s voice faded away as Sebastian’s mind travelled back to the corridor at St Mungos, seeing the silver snake coming right at him and his sister.

“-… I don’t know him like you, but doesn’t he used to live with you normally? So I can’t imagine your uncle letting him live with you if he weren’t.” Garreth’s voice came back as Sebastian blinked hard and snapped out of his memories.

“Sebastian?” Garreth said unsurely. “Are you okay? You kind of did that downstairs too, are you still with me?”

Sebasitan closed his eyes tightly and opened his eyes again, he looked at Garreth’s face, trying to focus.

“Yeah. Yeah I- I just see and hear things now.” He said without thinking of what that sounded like. He regretting it the moment he noticed Garreth looking a little unnerved, a small smile on his face. Mentally unstable people in the wizarding world were often hushed away, never spoken off. Garreth didn’t want to judge, but he didn’t know what to say to that.

He chose not to comment in a serious matter.

“I could always invent a tonic for that.”

That got a small smile from Sebastian.

“I’d feel safer- with the visions.”

Garreth give a small giggle.

Still Sebastian rubbed his head, shaking it to clear whatever he was hearing or seeing.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe try to get some sleep. I actually need to go to sleep myself, it’s been a long day and school lately has been insanely hard, we have to use non vocal spells now in everything and the teachers are already nagging us about our N.E.W.Ts next year.”

Garreth got up and moved as carefully as he could towards the door without creaking the floorboards.

“Goodnight” Garreth whispered loudly back at him.

“Goodnight.” Sebastian repeated back. There were loud screams now in his ears. He reached over to his bedside table and took a piece of chocolate and placed it into his mouth. The echoes of screams died down slightly, but the chill in the air only grew worse. He reached over the close the window shut, trapping warm air in the room with him, but for him it felt cold.

Sebastian laid back down, his hands over his ears, while thoughts ran through his mind.

The Wizarding World knew what he had done, even if the lie had been believed. He would never walk down a street without thinking all the people around him knew he had killed his own uncle. How was he meant to return to Fieldcroft ever again if its inhabitants were guessing the truth about how Solomon died?

Had he truly expected to one day move back into their little cottage, to live there as if he hadn’t murdered the man who owned the house?

He buried his face into the pillow. He guessed his situation now was much better than Azkaban, he was free, both from jail and from being locked away forever in St Mungos, but the dark parts of his brain wouldn’t stop repeating what he didn’t want to think.

He truly had no idea what was going to happen to him. He couldn’t find work in the wizarding world if he had no education at Hogwarts, he didn’t have his wand. He could return home eventually, once the Gaunts stopped looking for him, but would Feldcroft welcome him home? He doubt it. He couldn’t stay with the Weasley’s indefinitely, it wasn’t fair on them to burden them with a sick young man.

Uncle Solomon was pacing near the sink by the window to their hut, he was in a bad temper.

“Twelve years I spent working for them, I did things for them that- They know what I did for them- I walked away from my own conscious, that job, being an Auror – What did they expect, I now have two kids to look after, do they think they can do this and I wouldn’t say anything?”

In his hands was a letter that had arrived earlier that day. It was from the Ministry, Sebastian didn’t know what the letter was about, but he knew it’s content had upset his uncle. A lot.

“No retirement money. No pay severance. Nothing? How do they expect anybody to join the Aurors if they don’t look after their ex-workers. This Ministry is corrupt to the core.”

His uncle continued to grumble.

Sebastian was watching him through half closed eyes, Anne’s slow breathing in his ears. His uncle tore up the letter and walked to the fire and started burning the letter.

“Two kids to send to Hogwarts in a couple years and they won’t even help.” His Uncle sounded almost venomous with anger. “Hogwarts, I guess I will petition to them, they owe this family, after all, your parents’ were professors there. How do they expect me to fork out for wands and cloaks on my savings.”

Solomon had finally sat down at their small table.

“Uncle?” Sebastian asked, sitting up in bed now. “What is wrong?”

Solomon’s head turned slowly to look at Sebastian.

“What is wrong? What do you think is wrong Sebastian? I warned you time and time again, didn’t I boy? You take everything from me. My brother. My money. My Niece. My life! I have had to secure your upkeep all these years and now you want my house!”

Sebastian blinked in confusion. This uncle’s house seemed to wrap out of focus for a moment.

“The house?” Sebastian asked, he didn’t understand, he was too young to understand.

Soloman kept glaring at him, he wasn’t blinking.

The room wrapped again and as Sebastian watched, the yellow toned walls turned cold and wet, stone grey and dark with moss growing through the cracks, chains dangled down from the walls. There was a loud rattle from where Anne was laying behind him, he glanced down at her to check to see if she was okay. As he looked up again, Solomon turned into a Dementor, its cloak pulled back to show a mouth flying right into his face.

A loud, continuous scream filled the burrow.

Garreth flew up from his bed, kicking the blankets off, he flew out of bed and ran to his door and pulled it open.

“Mum! Dad!” He shouted in alarm “Who’s screaming? Mum, Dad?”

“Ughh” Came a voice from the floor about him. “Sebastian is having a nightmare again. Too early!” That was Tessie’s voice, Garreth could see her toes above him.

“I’m going back to bed.”

As Garreth watched, his sister’s little toes vanished from the railings as his father came hurrying down the stairs, turning the oil lamps back on.

“Go back to bed Garreth.” He said as he passed him. “It’s ok.”

Garreth watched, open mouthed, as his father went to the floor below and opened Sebastian’s door.

“Sebastian, wake up, you’re just having a nightmare.”

The screaming stopped, followed by weird noises Garreth had never heard before, like an animal whimpering. It was followed by the sounds of vomiting.

“Quite now, it’s okay. Do you want a drink? Here drink some of this. It’s ok, it’s not real.”

Garreth slowly crept down the stairs, listening by the wall to the first floor.

“There was a-a-Dementor, - my uncle’s house, he turned into it.” Came Sebastian’s voice, it sounded like he was gasping his words out.

“Just a nightmare, remember what they told you at St Mungos? Matilda said it’s just in your mind son. Try to drink your medicine, we’ll get you back to bed, it’s still really early.”

Garreth had heard enough, he crept back up the stairs and returned to his bedroom.

“Merlin’s soiled stockings…” Garreth swore under his breath. He had never heard anything like it in his life. He knew the rumours of Azkaban, they had all heard what happens to a person in there, but to witness that cold blooded scream for himself was another thing entirely.

“God, Sebastian, what did they do to you?” He muttered. His ear was pressed to his door as he eventually heard his dad coming back up the stairs. Sebastian had fallen silent again and the house went back to its sleepy nighttime state. Garreth climbed back into his bed and when the family got up the next day, everybody just acted normal. Breakfast was handed out and Sebastian sat reading again on the couch by the fire, leading Garreth to believe this was a common thing now with Sebastian.

[e-s-willswriting]

Hi there! Its Week 1 of the Sunday Writeblr Ask-A-Thon! I'm Athena, my question for you is: Has any music ever inspired a piece or scene of writing? Do you listen to music when you write? Do you listen to podcasts and stuff?

Thank you for the ask!

I listen to music a lot when I'm travelling and I use it as brainstorming material, but I actually try not to listen to music when I write unless I'm in a loud environment, and if I do its instrumental/classical pieces.

In terms of if a piece of music has inspired writing, I think I noted it in a recent tag game but Lili and Premised Summer have recently helped me in picturing a very vivid shot of my antagonist for CRYPT, but for the most part music helps me capture brief cool images while daydreaming/dreams help me capture scenes and ideas most. But to add something new, I'd say Paradox has been a good brainstorming song for CRYPT.

I only got into podcasts recently. I've dipped my toes into The Magnus Archives but haven't fully gotten into it. The two that I regularly keep up to date with are Re: Dracula (because Tumblr, also fantastic sound design) and The Aunty Donna Podcast. I'm actually seeing Aunty Donna live in September and I'm very excited for that. I'll link one of my personal favourite episodes.

[madrigaljail]

Oh good lord.

Rules: Write the latest line from your WIP (or post where you last left off on in your art) and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don’t reblog.

Same Boy, technically:

Bruno nodded, and took a step toward the archway.

Same Boy, actually:

His mother agreed. “I am going up to rest soon myself, Brunito, you should too.”

Prophet:

After a moment of debate he set his cup down but held onto the plate of torta negra.

Some Brujo nonsense:

“Go in peace, Señor Madrigal.” There was another sigh. “I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

The vampire AU:

Which was just as well because it meant he heard the footsteps on the stairs outside his door.

El Brujo Loco nonsense:

José Guzmán hasn’t bothered to say why he’s there, aside from sneering about having nothing better to do, which Bruno would have almost respected from anyone else.

Some porn which no one who hasn't seen it already is ever seeing:

Of course he did not, in fact, always say that, but was definitely going to start.

-

IF YOU SEE THIS CONSIDER YOURSELF TAGGED, I tend to be late to the getting-tagged party so you probably already are, and if you haven't been, well, here you go, you have Auntie Seda's encouragement to have a nice time <3