#Testimony of Solomon

[avalior]

While it was strongly claimed during Cosmic Turnabout that Clay caused Solomon's unconsciousness by overdosing him on his anxiety medication, this was not the case.

Solomon's PTSD would likely be treated with SSRIs, with the most likely prescriptions being venlafaxine, sertraline, or paroxetine. Of these three, only sertraline has an explicit side effect of potential loss of consciousness -- however, experiencing this side effect would be cause for hospitalisation and would not be conducive to space travel once Solomon was conscious. The only other alternative would be to cause serotonin syndrome by forcing Solomon's serotonin levels to spike beyond control, through either a medication overdose or combining his existing medication with other tablets to raise his serotonin.

However, serotonin syndrome would also run considerable risk of seizures and arrhythmia, which again would not be conducive to space travel and would be far too inexact as to how much of the medication to give Solomon without a) killing him b) causing him to be entirely unfit for space travel, rather than just knocked out for the launch and c) causing any of the other side effects of serotonin syndrome instead of unconsciousness in isolation.

This also does not tally with Simon explicitly stating that traces of medication were found in Solomon's system -- presuming Solomon had blood drawn shortly following Clay's attempted murder being discovered and police arriving, there is no feasible way that Solomon's unconsciousness could have been induced by his medication as the volume needed to cause the unconsciousness would show in far higher quantities in bloodwork than just "traces".

In truth, Clay assisted Yuri in 'managing' Solomon's anxiety with the launch by including generic sleeping tablets in his usual medication, passing them off as additional vitamins and assisting in this deception by taking visually similar actual vitamins himself. It was these tablets which caused Solomon's loss of consciousness for the HAT-2 launch; far safer than hamfistedly overdosing Solomon on his medication until he caused unconsciousness.

Clay worked under the assumption, with Yuri's deceitful confirmation, that the drugging was consensual and Solomon was aware of this potential plan, with Solomon being consensually unaware of the details as to avoid further anxiety. Following his recovery from the Phantom's attack, once he is medically cleared, Clay does stand trial for Solomon's spiking on charges of infliction of bodily harm.

[legalbrats]

📔 I wonder what Sebastian has to say about his enigmatic mentor, Solomon?

send “📔” to read an entry from my muse’s diary about your muse

Dear diary,

...

Mr. Solomon visited again. He started doing it more often now.

It's interesting! I never knew I had a talent for anysomething. P- Blaise- that m- Pops never knew either.

I know I decided to become a better prosecutor than him, but I am starting to wonder.

...

[slytherizz]

Fight or Flight - Sebastian Sallow/F!MC

Summary: Sometimes sleeping dogs don't lie.

Two years after his uncles death and with Anne missing the last remaining Auror who scents deception requests a testimony from the only person witness to what really happened between Sebastian and Solomon in the catacombs that day. In a bid to protect those memories and keep him out of Azkaban their marriage is arranged - A marriage Sebastian is hell bent on putting a stop to.

Word count: 15,000 (remember when I said I’d keep it under 10k)

Tags/Warnings: Arranged Marriage, 18+, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Angst, Masturbation, First Time

Link: You can find the complete fic on Ao3.

A/N: Sebastian ‘my wife’ Sallow. To the anon who requested this, I’m sorry it’s so late but it was so much fun to write.

Sebastian is almost certain he’d been on the receiving end of a lethal confundus charm. Either that or he was at present suffering a massive life altering haemorrhage somewhere amongst the sun deceptively warming his cheeks and the familiar groan of the dragon bones anchored above them, as it tilted its great head in greeting when they'd arrived in Hecate's office. Full of mysterious tombs and the lingering scent of smoke. Ash trampled so tightly into the grooves in the floorboards he doubted even the house elves could scour out the smell. 

He’d gotten too comfortable. No. Down right complacent as of late and now his psyche in a riotous act of self-preservation was giving him a blistering slap back into reality. 

Pull yourself together. 

Sebastian dug his nails into the soft flesh of his palm. He hissed at the sharp pain as he broke the skin. Felt the blood prickle hot against his sweat slicked palms as it beaded along the thin superficial wound. Uncomfortable. Stinging. And far, far too real. 

“What-?” he managed to croak around a lump in his throat. Praying to Merlin that if this wasn’t a dream it was some elaborate and albeit cruel practical joke. 

“Spousal Privileges,” Hecat repeated. Matter of fact. Her features were drawn and to his dismay betraying no hint of amusement. 

Sebastian choked violently on his own saliva. A hacked cough, raw against his throat. As if the wind had been knocked out of him by a patient and vindictive phantom.

“What this means is you couldn’t be forced to give a testimony or surrender any memories pertaining to anything to do with Mr Sallow. With his sister still missing, the only people who know what really happened in that catacomb are the two of you. If you can’t be forced to corroborate this theory that has been gaining traction at the Ministry that’s the way it stays,” his professor continued to address the witch beside him, unmoved by the blood draining rapidly from his face. 

Her eyes were fixed intently on Hecat, chin raised as she refused to meet Sebastian’s increasingly panicked eye. He shifted in his seat towards her. Turning rapidly back and forth between her and their professor. 

Waiting. A heartbeat and then more passed. Mounting up until it became a deafening drum in his ears. 

He wanted her to laugh. Let it loose. Burst the dangerous tension mounting with every second this insanity stretched on for. Most pathetically of all - he wanted her to save him. Wanted to watch her face crease with laughter at the absurdity of what Hecat was saying. Cling to some sense of normalcy, her stability by his side whilst the rest of him was spiralling out of control.

She was uncharacteristically still in her chair. As frozen as the statue of the mourning lover in the courtyard. Her fist clenched so tightly in the pleats of her skirt her knuckles blanched. A half finished braid she’d been fiddling with behind her ear hung abandoned. Not a shadow of humour remaining. 

“Why now? It’s been years since…”  she asked, with a more measured tone Sebastian felt the situation did not warrant.

She spared him a glance which did little to put him at ease. If anything the serious crease to her brow set him on a razor's edge. 

Sebastian was unravelling. The thread he’d used to stitch back together a semblance of a life was pulling apart at an alarming rate. And the only two people who had any hope of holding him back together were entertaining this insanity. 

“Some of Miss Sallow’s effects were uncovered at the former Feldcroft residence. It seems no one had tended to the home since your Uncle passed…unexpectedly. My contact at the Ministry informs me that there's only one Auror pushing for those memories. Sergeant Tuttle. Old guard. Worked closely with your uncle when they were both juniors in the department. The rest are happy to let Solomon’s memory remain as it has been for the past two years - the heroic final act protecting his young charges from a horde of uncontrollable inferi,” she paused and Sebastian felt the weight of every word. “Personally I am inclined to agree.”

Hecate’s already thin lips pulled so tight they almost entirely disappeared. Her inscrutable brown eyes peeling back the curtain seeing far beyond the truth to the crux of him. Weighing his mettle. And he wasn’t sure she’d be impressed at what she found. 

Because what he was - was careless. Sebastian supposed he could argue that his distress over losing his sister had made it too painful to return. Knowing Anne was not there, Feldcroft seemed rather pointless. 

But really all he’d been was too eager to turn his back on that hovel that had never been his home. Ivy grew thick over its stones and he hoped one day it would pull it down entirely. No one had touched the wards in over a year. Perhaps when he’d boxed up his feelings and shoved them away in his desperation to move past what he had done, he didn’t consider the possibility that there were others out there who, unlike him, may not want to move on so hastily from Solomon's death. 

Anne certainly hadn’t. 

“With you two being so close, this is the cleanest option-” Hecate continued. 

“I don’t bloody care about clean!” Sebastian broke from his stupor. Fist slamming on the table rattling the spoon from where it rested against his saucer. “Tell me the other options. I don’t care how messy they are. I’ll do them.”

“Perhaps I should rephrase,” Hecat said sharply. “This is your only option. And you’d do well not to leap to such dramatics if you want this to work, Mr Sallow. In particular I’d advise against taking such a tone with me.” 

Sebastian didn’t care. He’d already geared up to argue back against this preposterous idea when the statue of the witch beside him suddenly came to life. As if Pygmalion himself had loved her into life just to spite Sebastian. 

“We’ll do it,” she said firmly. 

Sebastian choked again, head snapping to look at her. “You can’t be serious!” 

She simply glared back at him, as if he wasn’t the only reasonable person left in the room. “I’ve kept you out of Azkaban this long-“

Their professor cleared her throat, having little patience for the squabblings of teenagers that was beginning to unfold in her office. It set Sebastian even more on edge. She’d thrown a bomb into their lives and was now regarding him as some petulant child causing a scene. As if instead while he was scrambling to hold it together she expected him to thank her for it. 

“I’d choose your words more carefully in front of an audience but I admire the passion. If you want this to succeed you’ll have to make them believe this. Believe you. You can’t cast any doubt on the reason for any of it. A young couple, so in love they simply cannot wait to be married.”

***

It was like taking a match to a forest doused in kerosine. How quickly word could spread overnight when students kept such close quarters and they were eager for anything to save them from revision. Whispers billowed up from steeped mugs. Steam laced with secrets curled around their lips. Huddled so tightly together they looked like hydras. Each set of eyes alight with amusement. Teeth bared ready to feast on their speculation. 

From the moment Sebastian had stepped into the Great Hall he’d felt it. The oppressive shift to the atmosphere that usually welcomed him each morning. Clouds dark, heavy with the foreboding rain swirled on the enchanted sky. At least it was fitting.

Instinctively he sought her out. Looked for hers amongst the hundreds of eyes turned towards him. Which he pointedly ignored instead following the remaining half who stole glances towards her. 

Blue. Green. Brown. Shifted between them assessing to see what they might do. 

She was boxed into the middle of the table by Onai and Sweeting with Reyes taking up the spot across from them. A vicious hound guarding her flock ensured even the most brazen little wretch who considered interrupting would think twice - give her wrath a wide berth. 

Reyes to her credit - snarling banshee that she was - looked as deeply horrified by the pathetic silver band on her friend's finger as Sebastian felt it deserved. 

They’d transfigured it hastily from a pair of silver spectacles once they’d stumbled out of Hecat’s office the previous evening. One she kept in an odd tangle of items in her satchel and the rushed magic had already begun to tarnish its appearance. It was a wonder anyone actually believed them with how dull and thoughtless it looked sitting on her hand. 

If her smile wasn’t so tight, or her laugh a little too airy she would be executing Hecat’s ludicrous scheme to perfection. 

Sebastian swallowed around the lump in his throat and sheepishly changed course. Rerouted himself away from the group of witches throwing his bag down on the bench and slumping into a seat at the Slytherin table. Which seemed to delight some of the onlookers. Clearly humiliation was a good seasoning for eggs, he thought as he poured himself a cup of tea from the pot and took out his potions essay in an attempt to look busy enough no one would suspect exactly why he was sitting alone. Or worse, try and talk to him. Not that they would dare when his face looked as thunderous as the sky overhead. It didn't, however, stop him from overhearing their animated gossiping. 

‘Do you think she’s…you know?’ 

‘Obviously! Who in their right mind gets married a month before they leave school? Clearly they’re in a rush before she starts to y’know...’ one girl smirked with an exaggerated flourish over her stomach.

Sebastian shot a glare across to the gaggle of Ravenclaw’s in the year below. Who giggled even more loudly when they caught his eye, one turning pink from the tips of her ears to well past the neckline of her jumper. Sebastian on the other hand felt like someone had doused him in a bucket of water from the lake. 

If Reyes didn’t skin him for the insulting piece of jewellery she certainly would if she suspected he’d gotten her favourite flying partner up the kyte. 

Sebastian tried to focus on his potions essay. List even a single ingredient of ‘Felix Felicis’ which was proving to be impossible when behind him a brazen fourth year proclaimed and loudly he’d caught them sequestered away between the stacks of the restricted section - her body bent over a desk. Sebastian’s grip on the quill tensed as he strained himself to write the differing effects between wyrm and dragon scale on a potion - and not a very vivid description of what he apparently looked like on his knees buried between her thighs. Ink blotted on the parchment. 

Sod Hecat on ‘selling it’. Why did they need to go to such lengths when apparently every gossiping vulture was content to click their beak and do all the work for them? 

Surely Azkaban couldn’t be worse than this? 

Well, that was delusional - but if he overheard one more person comment on if her robes looked bigger he was more than likely going to do something that would get him thrown in Azkaban regardless. 

Sebastian had anticipated suspicion but he still wasn’t prepared for how much it would chafe. 

He knew if they were not at the centre of this farce, the two main players on the stage they would have jovially picked apart their performance too. She would have speculated over their sanity as she picked idly at her cauldron cake. Made some snide comment about being too eager to get his leg over. He’d bet her a galleon they’d see the proof in nine months and she would have snorted, undignified unladylike into her pumpkin juice. 

Being the subject of this speculation however was mortifying. 

Would that be next? Bringing a child into the fucking mess he’d made just to cover his own back? If the thought of dragging her into a marriage him feel ill it paled in comparison to the feeling of crippling dread that conjured. 

But would she want that one day? In a young witch's sacrifice to keep him had she truly considered all the things she was giving up in his stead. Things she may not know she even wanted until the opportunity had already been bartered and sold off for the price of his freedom. What kind of man was he to take the hope of any kind of family from someone who already had none to show for it? Take away the chance for someone to love her. 

Or maybe she never intended to give up on that particular dream. And Sebastian would be expected to play his part - the cuckolded husband. 

Work late until the candles burned down to the wick to give her lover time to retreat. Share her with one; or with many. 

Vow now to never let her go without. 

Even go as far as to raise her children as his own. Glamour their cheeks with foreign freckles he’d wish were inherited. Brand them with the Sallow name with ink on thin parchment but not their blood; their ties to him just as flimsy and performative as hers.

Her easy smile as she lathered honey onto her toast set his teeth on edge. Sebastian felt in that moment like he never really knew her at all. Head pounding Sebastian stuffed his ink pot and notes back into his bag. Abandoned his breakfast in a rush to get out of the stifling hall. Away from the whispers that he knew would also be deafening in her ears. Perhaps even more so.

‘I didn’t even know they were courting. It’s a shame he’s off the market.’

‘Here’s the thing - I don’t think they were. Clearly, he’s marrying her to do the right thing. Now that she’s trapped him with a baby.’

She caught his eye, her eyebrows stitched together in concern but it did not offset the rigid lock of her furious ticking jaw. Teeth set, clamped together as if Hecat had clamped a muzzle on a fucking dragon and then handed her chains to Sebastian. 

Shamefully, he couldn’t bring himself to hold her gaze. Couldn’t even bear to face her in that moment despite knowing he was the reason she had to listen to these lies spread. He should tell her he was sorry. But instead he fled. 

Complete fic can be found on Ao3.

[liberalsarecool]

This is among the most damning testimony I've ever seen.

"Everyone involved knew they were sharing lies. From Trump and Giulani's shadow diplomacy, to my missions to Ukraine and elsewhere [...] everything was for the ultimate benefit of Donald Trump and, thereby, Vladimir Putin."

"Congressman Pete Sessions, then Congressman Devin Nunes, Senator Ron Johnson, and many others understood they were pushing a false narrative. The same goes for John Solomon, Sean Hannity, and media personnel, particularly at Fox News, who used this narrative to manipulate the public ahead of the 2020 elections. Sadly, they are still doing this today as we approach the 2024 elections."

Republicans work for Putin.

[warblogs17282]

Going over and analyzing every scene where Vassago does something.

Because I cannot call myself a 'certified Vassago stan' without doing this.

On the first time we see Vassago in this show, the first thing he does is instantly notice when something is quite wrong with the trial, and he also chooses to speak out what he finds wrong with the trial as well, that being the fact that Stolas isn't present in a trial he is very much involved in, as Andrealphus literally just accused Blitz of 'forcing himself onto Stolas', so this scene alone already shows us that Vassago wants a fair trial for everyone, and clearly is a bit passionate about it as well considering he calls out Stolas not being present at the trial so quickly.

So Vassago already has some really positive characteristics that appear to be lacking in most of the other Goetia members present, and this is something that remains consistent throughout all the other times we see him on-screen as well.

Vassago also speaks Spanish quite frequently as well, which makes sense as Vassago's VA is Mexican-American, but I do wonder if this implies that being able to speak multiple languages is a common thing with Goetia members or not.

Andrealphus states that Stolas hasn't been informed of the trial, to which Vassago instantly takes issue with, and then immediately suggests to summon Stolas at once, because again, Vassago does believe in giving everyone a fair trial, and not summoning Stolas to him undermines that characteristic he has, and this also shows that Vassago is definitely willing to point these things out, make them into an issue and make an attempt to get them fixed, so that the person can have a 'fair trial' to him.

Andrealphus and Vassago get into a bit of a heated confrontation over this point, and in the background, you can see Vassago walk back over to his spot in the balcony, but making what is basically rolling his eyes except it's his entire face while doing so, starting to walk back off right after Andrealphus says the word 'trauma', with this scene showing us that he likely hates Andrealphus, and what I believe is our first sign that Vassago is not buying into Andrealphus' bullshit at all, but Vassago doesn't have any evidence or testimony to disprove what Andrealphus is saying.

Considering in the lesser key of solomon, it is stated that Vassago is of 'good-nature', something which Andrealphus is not, putting them at odds almost immediately, and has the power to tell of future events, which could be related to this scene a little, but it's unlikely.

The next thing that happens is Andrealphus dropping the bombshell accusation that Blitz 'plotted to have Stolas assassinated', Vassago has a quite noticeable reaction to this, while I'm not entirely sure who that 'motherfucker' was aimed to, I believe that it was aimed towards Andrealphus, considering it's pretty likely that Vassago isn't buying into Andrealphus' bullshit, as I just explained when I covered the scene before this, not to mention at this point, Andrealphus has presented zero evidence to back up his accusations at this point in time.

Vassago has definitely been caught majorly off-guard with Striker's false testimony and Blitz's sudden outburst, which is very clear just looking at Vassago's face in this scene, Vassago is definitely still processing that with what looks like some rather conflicting feelings written all over his face in this scene. The conflicting feelings of thinking Andrealphus is bullshitting while likely hating him at the same time, and the feelings that come with processing Blitz's outburst.

While I will admit, all the lights on the Goetia side of the court appear to be voting for executing Blitz prematurely, considering what I've said about Vassago thinking Andrealphus is bullshitting and him being that type of person to always want a fair trial, I'm going to assume that Vassago also voted against executing Blitz here, although that is unknown at this point in time.

Something I want to point out here is that if you go frame by frame in this scene right at the camera focuses on Vassago again, right after Striker flashes us the a clearly villain-looking facial expression, you can see Vassago move his arms and body backwards a little, just like Vassago was looking downwards for some reason, and if he was looking down, I highly suspect that he was looking at Striker.

When the shot shows us Vassago's face, you can see uncertainty written all over it, which I believe is because he suspects that Andrealphus and Striker is lying, but doesn't have any evidence or testimony to actually prove it's a lie, causing him to enter a state of uncertainty, again, completely written all over his face during this scene, as he thinks about all the conflicting thoughts he's having right now, which are probably just being very much amplified due to Satan literally announcing that he found Blitz guilty of the crimes while he thinks about it all, with him looking at Striker suggesting that is what he's going through right at that point in time.

Okay so other than Vassago being cute as hell in this scene and making me really want him, Stolas and Moxxie to all be theatre buddies together, we can see that Vassago is extremely supportive of Stolas right now, while almost everyone else near Vassago appear to be looking with indifference or a little bit of shock, but still, it shows that Vassago is quite supportive to the people he gets positive impressions from right out of the gate, with that generally being another positive characteristic that most of the Goetia don't seem to have as well, making Vassago a little bit unique inside the Goetia family as a result.

This scene during Satan's part of the song, the main thing of note during this scene is the fact that literally everyone else is harmonizing with Satan here, but Vassago is the only one who didn't at all.

He starts in this scene looking around rapidly with a face that has shock and disbelief of the situation that's happening written all over it, with the next face he makes being a face of what appears to be a mix of disbelief and a bit of disgust at the situation, as he is still processing everything that is happening at that point in time, finally, as showcased in the picture below, we can see Vassago now has a face of what looks like a mix between reluctant acceptance of what the situation has turned into, and showing quite a bit of disdain of the situation as well.

Getting back to the first thing I mentioned about this scene, what Vassago not harmonizing with Satan, which every other demon royalty did for at minimum a little bit, shows that Vassago is refusing to stand behind the clearly corrupt and unfair court system, instead opting to do what I think is called a silent protest, choosing to stick to his own morals instead of following the crowd and harmonizing with Satan, which further shows the general sense of justice Vassago appears to have, and that this also shows that Vassago is firmly on Stolas' side here, that Vassago is further choosing to support Stolas.

Finally, at the end of the song, when the chains and such start to appear around Stolas, while Satan goes on about Stolas 'paying the price', Vassago looks so scared for Stolas in this scene, which I'm guessing is because well, Stolas' punishment is literally going to be right around the corner, so it's only natural that Vassago is scared for Stolas, because, as I've shown before, Vassago has been firmly on Stolas' side the whole time, with this shot showcasing that even further.

In conclusion: In the brief time we got to see Vassago in his debut, I believe I have firmly established some positive characteristics in Vassago, with those being a general sense of justice and being supportive of the people he gets positive impressions from, with the main example being Stolas, with all of this showing that he definitely lives up to being the 'good boy' that Vivzie said he was.

While a lot about his character could change as we get to see him more and more, as of right now these are my findings.

[lokiangel]

Obey Me incorrect quotes #34

Lucifer- Satan, you're testifying in Thirteen's and Solomons aggravated assault case tomorrow, and Diavolo is worried about how you'll present yourself on the stand. Satan- Why? I'm fine on the stand! flashback to Testimony #1 Satan- Look, I'll make this real simple so even these idiot can understand. Satan, to the jury- MAN. DID. CRIME. flashback to Testimony #2 Satan- I'm sorry, could you make him stop doing that weird thing with his face? Prosecution Attorney, next to a crying Solomon- …Crying? flashback to Testimony #3 Satan- And when this is over, I'm gonna find you and I'm gonna break those little fingers. Judge-Could the witness please stop threatening the stenographer?

[sebastianswallows]

Beautiful memories — Chapter 1

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (aged up)

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is sentenced to Azkaban for six months. When he is released, he finds MC is expecting a child, and is filled with anger and jealousy and confusion. He just doesn't know the child is his yet.

— WARNINGS: angst, just a lot of angst (eventually there will be fluff and smut, but in later chapters)

— WORDCOUNT: 2.7k

— A/N: This fic is for a prompt by @pugsnotdrugs92, and I was also asked to write a similar fic by at least one anon.

Sadly, since she gave me that prompt, Pugs has deleted her blog. I have just learned this tonight and I am... pretty damn upset, I'll say that (not at her of course 💗, but at what caused it).

I will just say that if you get hate from anyone, block them, block indiscriminately until you have peace. I hope that Pugs (and anyone who deleted their blog as part of this mess) will make an account on this hellsite again one day <3

Anyway! On with the fic. Hope you enjoy it, my dears 🌺

Nobody had any idea who turned Sebastian in. It came so unexpectedly that they almost didn’t believe it when he happened. After all, it had been two years since Solomon’s death, and everyone in Feldcroft believed he died in his sleep.

“I know it isn’t me,” she said tearfully to Ominis one day, “and I know it isn’t you.”

“And it wasn’t Anne either,” said Ominis with a shake of his head.

“Are you sure? She still isn’t speaking to Sebastian.”

“She protected him this whole time, why would she report him to the ministry now? She might not forgive Sebastian, but she wouldn’t do this to him…”

Their suspicions fell on Leander, or the goblins, or any number of rivals Sebastian had made, but none of their suspects were likely to even know the truth about what happened that day in the catacomb. It therefore stood to reason that someone had overheard them speaking about it at some point, but that did little to narrow it down — for all they knew, one of the portraits had heard them and reported it to the Headmaster.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter who told the Aurors about it. The trio rushed through their N.E.W.T.S. half-heartedly, with Sebastian unsurprisingly scoring lower than he ever had, and in their spare time they spoke of nothing but the upcoming trial.

They’d even arranged for a solicitor for Sebastian, and visited him via floo in London, but he only spoke to his client in private. And every time Sebastian walked out of the wizard’s office, he looked more discouraged than the last.

The trial took place during summer, right after their 7th year ended. Both she and Ominis attended it every day. Imelda came sometimes as well, and Poppy, and Lucan — even Garreth attended on two occasions. He’d never liked Sebastian much, but he seemed to put aside his feelings throughout all of this.

“They don’t mean to send him there, do they?” he whispered as they sat outside the courtroom one sweltering afternoon.

“Where else?” said Imelda. “They closed all the other wizarding prisons centuries ago.”

“But he’s supposed to have done it while he was still a student…”

“What d’you expect? That they’ll give him detention for murder?”

“No, but…”

“You don’t think he really did it, do you, Imelda?” asked Poppy, leaning over Garreth.

“He didn’t,” said Ominis without even glancing their way.

“That’s right,” she said from beside Ominis. “Sebastian’s done nothing wrong.”

The trial went badly almost from the start. The judge was a grey old wizard in a funny wig, and there was no jury to speak of. He seemed to treat the death of a former Auror, even one of such ill repute as Solomon, quite seriously. The Prosecution leaned into that every chance they got.

Anne was called to give testimony in the first week, and she confessed under oath what she had found when she reached the catacombs, which was enough to shock the court. Sebastian’s friends took courage from the fact that she had not actually seen what killed Solomon, but it was only a matter of the judge drawing a line between a quick succession of events.

Ominis was called to the stand as well, but lied shamelessly. Even the threat of Veritaserum from the Prosecution didn’t sway him. He knew none of them would dare submit a Gaunt to that — a rare occasion of his family name amounting to something. However, him being Sebastian’s oldest friend cast doubt upon his entire deposition…

And then, she was called to give testimony as well. Unlike Ominis, she was not sure she could afford to lie, but nothing could get her to betray Sebastian.

All that she could remember was that Solomon attacked the both of them, and both she and Sebastian felt quite threatened by him, and then somehow, between the flying curses and roving Inferi, Uncle Solomon fell dead. But that happened, after all, more than two years ago, Your Honour, and it was in a dark and gloomy cave — and oh, what were they doing there? Objection. Relevance?

Ominis and the others congratulated her on well she held her own, but deep down, she felt like she had let her best friend down — her statement didn’t put the blame on Sebastian, but neither did it exonerate him.

By the time the trial was approaching the end, their former classmates had stopped coming, and only she and Ominis were left.

“He looks so —”

“I know,” said Ominis, not wanting to hear her describe him. This was on the last day, and the judge would give the verdict.

Guilty. Six months in Azkaban.

The courtroom reverberated with murmurs from the crowd — some in approval, others in outrage.

It was a horrible sentence to hear, but it was not as bad as their worst fears — people were often given life imprisonment for the Unforgivables. Fortunately, in Sebastian’s case, there was not enough conclusive evidence either way. Still, if they were to appeal, it would take longer than six months to even have a new judge assigned to the case, so they were left with no choice but to accept it.

As the Aurors led Sebastian away, she and Ominis stood together and called out useless encouragements to their friend, telling him to have courage, to be strong, have faith that he would soon be free, but he went with the guards without looking back at them…

Most of their former classmates were shocked but seemed to think the six-month sentence would pass quickly. They knew Azkaban was pretty horrible and could remember a few things from their DADA class, but none of them was truly educated on the nature of Dementors. Ominis was. He’d been in their presence when he and his father went to visit an uncle of his who’d been sentenced for murdering a muggle. He claimed it was the worst experience he’d ever had in his life — worse than Crucio, in its own way. He still remembered how the despair lingered inside him for days.

And as time passed, she became aware of something lingering within herself as well…

By the fourth month, she had to use concealment charms around her waist when she went out in public. Ominis figured it out on his own — it was probably that echolocation spell he used to get around. He’d merely been suspicious at first, but by the fifth month…

“Can anyone else see?!”

“No, and they won’t if you just stop —”

“But this could ruin your reputation!”

“Don’t you think I know that?!”

“I can’t believe you! How c—”

“Ominis, shut up,” she hissed.

“But you —”

“It’s Sebastian’s!”

“… Oh. I suppose that makes it better, then.”

From then on, Ominis supported her and helped her in any way he could — which admittedly wasn’t much, as he was still getting used to living on his own after being freed from his family’s clutches. And either way, the first few months were gentle enough on her that she could cope well enough on her own. The only help she needed was preparing her small flat to host two people — and eventually three — which meant some creative furniture transfiguration to fit everything in too small a space.

Christmas arrived in the meanwhile, then the New Year. They had tried writing to him every month by then, but the authorities kept sending their letters back — none were allowed for fear of concealed enchantments, they said, and no visitations were allowed either for lower-class prisoners. It broke her heart to know him all alone throughout those rotten months and all through the holidays. Neither she nor Ominis found it in them to celebrate anything that year…

Sebastian was released in February. They wouldn’t be allowed on the island of Azkaban, but they could see him at the Ministry, where he would be transported before he was officially freed.

She and Ominis got there at sunrise, and waited for hours.

Sebastian’s assigned solicitor couldn’t be there, as he had another case, but he sent a house elf to sign the release form in his name. Anne hadn’t come either, but that was hardly a surprise…

The two of them sat alone in a busy hallway, watching witches and wizards pass through — some going in, some going out — until finally, late in the afternoon, the Auror at the front desk told them that inmate Sallow would be arriving within minutes.

“Here, here, they said this will be the exit,” she said, pulling on Ominis’ sleeve.

Two large wooden doors lay open out of which a long dark hallway extended like a neck, and on either side were doors being shut and open of ministry workers travelling through. There was constantly a small crowd of people darkening that space even further.

“I think that’s him,” she said, standing on the tips of her toes when she spotted a dark ruffled head of hair.

“Alright, stay calm,” said Ominis, taking her hand to settle her. Since he’d realised that she was pregnant, he was instinctively more protective.

“Oh, it is! It is him!” she said with tears in her happy voice.

Sebastian was led out of one of those side doors — dressed in a grey and black prisoner’s uniform, his hands and feet chained, terribly thin and tired and bent at the back, and looking as if he hadn’t slept for days…

“Sebastian!” she called out, waving to him with the hand that wasn’t in Ominis’ grasp. “Over here!”

He looked up slowly, as if doubting that he’d heard his name called. His eyes searched blearily through the crowd ahead, not really focusing anywhere, but then they fell on her. She grinned brightly when she caught his gaze.

“Y-you came?” he said, looking at the two of them like they were a dream come true.

“Of course,” she said.

“Surely you didn’t expect anything else,” grinned Ominis.

“I… I need to go somewhere, they’re taking me to… to…” He didn’t have time to explain before Aurors led him around the corner and to another room, for processing.

“We’ll be here,” she called out after him, “we’ll wait for you!”

“How does he look?” whispered Ominis. “He sounded quite weak.”

“He looks… the way he sounded,” she said, “but he’ll be alright… He has to be. We’ll make sure of it.”

Less than thirty minutes later, Sebastian stepped back outside. He was now dressed the way he was when they arrested him: a faded green sweater and black trousers with worn old leather shoes. The clothes hung on his lanky frame, his face was all angles and shadows, and he looked as if he hadn’t had a wash in the whole six months. He was, of course, without his wand as well — they’d broken that after his sentencing.

But there was a still little light still left in his eyes, and it shone when he saw his friends again. He called out her name and Ominis’, and walked toward them with feeble brisk steps.

“I can’t believe it,” he grinned weakly, his steps growing bolder the closer he got to his friends. “I never thought —”

But then he noticed their joined hands, and her swollen stomach, and it nearly stopped him in his tracks. He only caught the sight for a second before she let go of Ominis and rushed to embrace him.

“Seb,” she cried out as she jumped into his arms. She clung to his neck like a lifeline. “I’ve missed you so much…”

“I’ve… missed you too,” he said, his voice low and uncertain.

She buried her face in his neck while Sebastian’s eyes fell to Ominis — who embraced him too from the other side in an uncharacteristic display of affection, before he stood back timidly.

“How… erm, how are you?” he asked with a nervous smile, feeling more happy than he cared to admit, and relieved to have his friend back in one piece.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Sebastian. Gently, he dropped the girl from his arms and slowly pulled away.

“Of course,” she said, wiping her tears and stepping back, but keeping his hand clasped in hers. “You don’t have to. You don’t have to say anything. We just came to take you home. It’s alright now… You’re free, you’re finally back. We’ve missed you so much…”

“Home?” said Sebastian, looking between her and Ominis coolly. “Whose home is that?”

“Well… whichever one you want,” she said. “Yours or mine or…”

“I don’t think I’m ready to see Feldcroft again,” said Sebastian. “But I wouldn’t want to… impose on either of you.”

“What?” frowned Ominis. “Don’t be stup— I mean, don’t worry about that, Sebastian.”

“Oh, is there something to worry about?” he asked.

“Well —”

“We don’t need to discuss that —”

“— here.”

“— now.”

“… I see.”

“Don’t concern yourself with anything,” she smiled, stepping up to him again and embracing him loosely. “Let’s leave this horrible place first…”

They made their way out of the ministry building and through the cold London streets toward Diagon Alley, and his friends talked to him excitedly about the things that had happened: what their former classmates were doing, what they knew about Anne, even the latest Quidditch matches.

They probably felt less cheerful than they seemed, but their enthusiasm was overflowing as they prattled on about all the normal things people their age should care about, almost as if nothing bad had happened at all. They laughed, and smiled, and rubbed his back, and all the while there was in Sebastian’s gait much of the same imprisoned and defeated look as there had been when he was led out of the courtroom at his sentencing.

“We wrote to you while you were there,” she said as they approached the Leaky Cauldron.

“But the damned guards never delivered them,” said Ominis.

Sebastian listened in silence, and they tacitly agreed it was because of what he had been through. He would open up to both of them in time, they were certain…

They decided to have lunch at the Cauldron since neither of them had eaten anything since morning — and they didn’t even wish to think of the food in Azkaban. They ordered sausages and eggs and mashed potatoes and a great big serving of pickled pumpkin.

Sebastian ate the least out of the three of them — and what he didn’t finish, she devoured. Ominis hid his chuckle behind a cough, while Sebastian could barely look at her. If she noticed it, she didn’t say. She just kept smiling and laughing along with Ominis…

More than ever in Azkaban, he wished he could dig a hole for himself through which to disappear. The Leaky Cauldron was noisy and crowded, the smell of food made his stomach turn, and every scrape of a chair was like a scratch across his brain. Even sitting down was uncomfortable, his muscles too thin and his back too weak to hold him. He moved uncomfortably from one position to another, and let his friends prattle on to fill the emptiness between them.

After almost an hour, they decided to leave, and Sebastian nodded in agreement.

“I’m seeing someone at the ministry next Wednesday about a position,” said Ominis as they walked toward the fireplace. “But I can stop by afterwards if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” she said. “You’re always welcome, you know that.”

“Do you have enough chocolate at home? I can bring some more.”

“Shelves full of it,” she laughed. “But more is always a good idea. I suspect we’ll need it.”

“Well, I’ll bid you two goodbye for now, then,” said Ominis as he waved them off, blissfully oblivious to what was going through Sebastian’s mind.

“Goodbye,” she said with a tearful smile, letting go of Sebastian for a brief while to hug their friend once more.

“I’ll let you know before I arrive on Wednesday.”

“Not to worry, Ominis. We’ll be alright… Everything will be alright now.”

“I hope so…”

“And good luck with your interview!”

“Thank you… Although I’m not sure I want it.”

“Thank you, Ominis,” said Sebastian tiredly. “For… everything.”

“Don’t be silly,” he smiled. “I’m glad to have you back. We both are. Just focus on getting well again…”

Sebastian nodded, not feeling that any of their kind words were true. He disappeared in the green flames with her, wishing for once to not appear on the other end.

[666writingcafe]

Court Transcript

An Excerpt

Craxon: The Society now calls MC onto the stand.

MC, the Defendant, first having been duly sworn in by Societal law, was examined and testified as follows:

Craxon: In your own words, describe what happened in the early hours of July 14.

MC: I was getting ready to go to sleep when Belphegor knocked on my bedroom door. He told me that there was an emergency and that we needed to leave quickly. After changing out of my pajamas, I followed him into the garage, where he proceeded to open a toy chest and pulling out various weapons.

Craxon: Were you handed any of these weapons?

MC: Yes, after he had grabbed the ones he wanted. They were on the small side, and he only gave me a few. I also had my knife on me.

Craxon: Did he explain why you needed weapons?

MC: No. Just that I may need them.

Craxon: What happened next?

MC: Belphegor and I got in one of the cars in the garage and started driving. Once we were on the road, I asked him to tell me what exactly was going on.

Craxon: Why didn't you ask him beforehand?

MC: I've learned not to question demons too much when they tell me that there's an emergency. Mainly because there isn't any time for chit-chat. You often just get thrown into the thick of things.

Craxon: I see. So, what did Belphegor tell you?

MC: That Lord Diavolo left him an encrypted note telling him that he was getting kidnapped and taken to a local amusement park. I told him that an amusement park is a weird place to take someone you've kidnapped, and he explained that whoever did might have needed the space to perform dark magic.

Craxon: How did that make you feel?

MC: Enraged. I didn't want anyone to hurt Lord Diavolo.

Craxon: How come?

MC: Because I care about him.

Avarius: Demon spawn!

MC: I have held my tongue throughout these proceedings, but he is really starting to get on my nerves.

Craxon: Avarius, you have said your piece. Now it is MC's turn. *pauses* MC, you may proceed.

MC: Thank you. So, once Belphegor and I arrived at the amusement park, we walked over to where the circus tents were set up and ducked into the biggest one, hiding behind the bleachers. We saw Lord Diavolo standing inside a salt circle, and shortly after our arrival Avarius and five others enter the tent. Of course, I didn't know who he was until he started interrogating Lord Diavolo and Belphegor hissed his name in disgust. Avarius, on the other hand, knew who I was, although he didn't refer to me by my name.

Craxon: What did he call you?

MC: A half-breed.

Craxon: How did that make you feel?

MC: At first, I had no idea what or who he was referring to, but once he revealed his suspicions of Lord Diavolo sending Solomon to the Society building and having him force the workers to give the 'wretched half-breed' a permit, it wasn't hard to put two and two together. The rage I felt earlier in the car came back in full force.

Craxon: How come?

MC: Because I felt insulted. For one, it's not like I could control the circumstances of my birth--

Avarius: But you chose to conspire with demons! The pacts you have with them make you a half-breed!

MC: *takes a deep breath* Can I speak freely?

Craxon: As long as you know that it'll be on record.

MC: Of course. *pauses* If you're going to bully me, at least get your facts straight. I am part angel, not demon.

Avarius: Liar!

MC: I am literally under the influence of truth serum. How could I possibly lie right now?

Avarius: Demons are immune to truth serum!

MC: With that logic, you might as well throw Lord Diavolo and Belphegor's testimonies right out the window. And Solomon's too while you're at it, because between the seventy-some pacts he has and his immortality, he's even less human than I am.

Craxon: Order!

MC: If you want proof of my ancestry, then here it is. *pushes up their sleeve to reveal a white mark on their shoulder* I am both Lilith's human descendant and angelic successor. Some of her powers passed down to me when I was born.

Craxon: Order!

MC: *sighs* I apologize. As you were saying?

Craxon: *sits in silence*

MC: *twiddles their thumbs*

Craxon: *clears his throat* No more questions.

MC: Are you sure?

Craxon: Yes. I have made my decision. *pauses* At this time, MC is allowed to keep their sorcerer's permit.

Avarius: What?! How?!

MC: For once, I'm in agreement with Avarius. I killed his colleague. Intentionally. That should be grounds for suspension, should it not?

Craxon: You did it to protect someone. To punish you would be to punish those before you, and at that point there may as well not be a Society, because at one point or another, we have all been in your position. *pauses* Furthermore, I, Craxon, award MC with the Star of Diligence.

MC: Thanks...I think.

Avarius: I can't believe this! *storms out of the room*

Craxon: If my records are correct, that only leaves one star left for you to obtain in order to get your license. It is tradition that the Society takes charge of the final test, and I believe I have the perfect one for you.

MC: Should I be worried?

Craxon: Only if you are afraid of what you might see.

MC: What's that supposed to mean?

Craxon: To test your humility, you must be able to not only admit your greatest fear, but to face it head-on. *to an attendant* Fetch the dark red chest and set it in the center of the room.

Attendant: *does what he is told*

Craxon: Inside this chest is a boogeyman. It will transform into your deepest fear the moment it sees you. Your goal is to force it back inside its chest. You can take as much time as you need to mentally prepare, but once the boogeyman is released, you must complete the test. Do you understand?

MC: I do.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr

[honeyjars-sims]

2.32 Lou to the Rescue

Lou: Chantal, I just want to say I appreciate you helping out with this case. You could’ve just walked away and washed your hands of all of this, but what you’re doing is going to help a lot of people.

Chantal: I hope so. I feel bad enough that I’ve been working for a company that’s doing such horrible things.

Lou: The important thing is that you’re doing something about it now. I understand you have some reservations about this whole thing. I know lawyers don’t have the greatest reputations, but I promise you–and your dads– that you’re in good hands.

David: Father to father, we’re worried about what this company is capable of. How do we know that testifying against them won’t have consequences for Chantal?

Lou: Look, as a father, I wouldn’t put a young woman through this if I didn’t think we had a strong case. Thanks to your daughter, we do. The evidence speaks for itself, but with Chantal’s testimony, we have it in the bag.

Solomon: Well, it’s up to Chantal if she wants to proceed with testifying. What do you think, honey?

Chantal: I want to do what I can to make things right. If that means testifying against SNOOT and putting myself at risk for retaliation, then so be it. I just can’t walk away knowing I could’ve done something and didn’t.

Lou: You’re doing the right thing. I’ll work with you to prepare you for what kind of questions they might ask and how to answer them. I promise you, everything’s going to be fine. And if they try anything after the trial, let me know and I’ll help you however I can.

Chantal: Thanks so much! I feel better now. I can’t wait to see Ambrose get what she deserves.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[talonabraxas]

Ark of the Covenant King Solomon's Temple Talon Abraxas

The Ark of the Covenant

The Divine Presence that dwelled amongst Israel manifested itself through the Cherubim located on top of the Ark of the Covenant. Inside the Ark of the Covenant, the two tablets of the commandments were stored. There is a Talmudic discussion regarding the contents of the Ark, One opinion states that both the first Tablets (that were broken by Moses) as well as the second Tablets, and the Torah scroll written by Moses, were all housed in the Ark.

Thus the name of the Ark was the Ark of the Covenant or the Ark of the Testimony. Surrounding the Kaporet (the cover of the Ark) was a golden wreath representing the Crown of the Torah. Atop the Kaporet were two images of Cherubim that symbolized the relationship between the Children of Israel and their Father in Heaven.

The Talmud relates that Bezalel and Moses discussed the question of whether to build the Mishkan (the Tabernacle) first, or the Ark first, indicating the great importance of the Ark. The Ark was the only vessel about which the Torah specifically commands that its carrying poles are never to be removed. This signified that the Torah would accompany the Children of Israel wherever they went. (Our Sages have explained that the word Aron (the Ark) is related to the word Or, meaning light, for the Torah which is stored in the Ark is the source of light for the world.

The Ark consisted of three boxes that fit one inside the other. A wooden box was placed inside a slightly larger box made of gold and inside the wooden box was an additional golden box. In this way the Ark was covered in gold "on the inside and on the outside." The outer larger box was a bit more than one handbreadth higher than the wooden box and the inner box was a bit smaller so that they could be inserted into one another.

The dimensions of the Ark relate to the middle, wooden box - two and one half cubits long, one and one half cubits wide and one and one half cubits high. The Ark was covered by the Kaporet - a solid gold tablet with two Cherubim fashioned on top. The cherubim were an integral part of this cover, hewn from the same piece of gold. (Source: Exodus 25, 10-22).

The Tablets of the Covenant were placed in the Ark along with the Torah scroll written by Moses. The Ark of the Covenant symbolized the inspiration of the Divine Presence and prophecy in Israel.

Opinions vary regarding what exactly was placed inside the Ark: Some authorities maintain that the first set of tablets broken by Moses were inside the Ark, along with the second intact set, and the Torah Scroll which Moses wrote. Hence the name "the Ark of the Covenant" or "the Ark of the Testimony." The shape of the two tablets was square, and they were placed on the bottom of the Ark. However, a different opinion states that the broken tablets were kept in a separate Ark, that the Torah Scroll had its own special place on a shelf alongside the Ark. (Source: Baba Batra 14).

[sunshiline-writes]

A Rose Amidst Thorns #15: A New Set of Rules

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Synopsis: Miguel gets a set of new rules. And learns exactly what he is in this hierarchy

CW: Dehumanization, like HEAVY dehumanization plz be safe, cigarettes, whumpee used as an ashtray, graphic description of mouth burns, EMETO (its kinda nasty so just.. be careful again), forced alcohol consumption, conditioning, altered state of mind, whumper POV

Something had to change. Everything was out of control. Solomon had tried to take his wife. Henrietta thought that somehow, that was fine. Miguel kept fighting back. All of them kept fighting back. It was getting exhausting. It was going to get worse if Xavier didn’t put a stop to it now. 

Separating the three of them had been the first step. Solomon was sleeping away his illness in his bedroom. Henrietta no longer had keys to any of the rooms in the house. Even if she wanted to visit him, the threat of death Xavier had loomed over him, kept her at bay for now. Miguel, was back in the hayloft, chained down like the dog he was. 

Solomon and Henrietta were easy enough to deal with. But Miguel was proving to be more and more of a problem. He was getting restless. Starting to test the waters as he always did. Xavier preferred him half dead or dissociated to the point where he was a shell of a human. Three days ago, he’d thrown the food he’d been given at Abraham, who’d been on food duty that day.  

Today, Xavier would be delivering Miguel’s first meal since then. It had been two weeks since The Solomon incident. After he’d carried Miguel’s unconscious body into the hayloft and clamped the manacle around his ankle, Xavier had deemed it better to leave the kid alone. He needed time to heal. If he looked at him, Xavier was going to smash his head into the wall. 

He was calmer now. Calculating. He brought up the tray of food to the hayloft, balancing it against his hip with one hand, grabbing the ladder with the other. Xavier wasn’t surprised to see Miguel curled in on himself, asleep on the cot that had been provided. He brought the tray of food next to the cot, leaving it on the floor. 

This had been Miguel’s first room at the Reede Ranch. Thirteen years old and all fire and fury. He had proved himself, gaining a nice cog in the closet in the hallway. Inside where it was warm at night. Where he could join them for breakfast at the table like a human. He had earned that respect. But now, he was back in the hayloft, the metaphorical dog house. Too much trouble. Too many mistakes had been made. Now corrections had to be made. 

Gently, Xavier ran a hand through Miguel’s hair.

“Wake up kid. We gotta talk,” he said as soon as Miguel’s eyes focused enough that he was sure the kid was listening. 

A frown lined his features as he slowly pushed himself to a sitting position. Bare feet resting on the wood floor. Good hand gripping the edge of the cot, his other hand resting in his lap. It was still healing. Stupidly slowly, but Solomon had said that it would. Still though, it was annoying. It had been two months, and that hand was still proving to be useless. 

“Are you hungry?” Xavier asked as Miguel glanced at the food. 

The boy nodded, eyes wary. Good. 

“You can eat in a moment. But right now? We’re gonna set some new rules for you. Yeah?” Xavier didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “I think you’ve forgotten your place here. The fact that you’re at the bottom of the hierarchy.” 

Miguel’s throat bobbed slightly. The bruising had faded to an ugly yellowish color, but it was still there. A testimony to when Xavier had lost a bit of control. Nearly killing the boy. 

“You’re the dog here. So here are the rules. You do what I tell you, when I tell you. This isn’t new, but I think you need a reminder. If I tell you to sit, you sit. If I say roll over? Fucking roll over.” Xavier took a deep breath, “I’m going to bringing your food everyday from now on. Unless I’m on business then it’ll be Jesse. When you see us coming up that ladder? You greet us on your knees.” Xavier paused, searching for a reaction. 

Miguel’s frown deepened, eyes widening slightly. He opened his mouth slightly, seemingly in an attempt to protest. But Xaviers glare must have been enough of a warning, as he snapped his mouth shut. The boy worked his jaw, gritting his teeth. 

Xavier smiled. Miguel at least knew better than to argue. 

“Why don’t you practice right now? On your knees mutt.” 

There was a moment, a precious moment of Miguel, staring up at him. Eyes wide. Cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. At this moment, he didn’t know if Miguel would surrender, or follow the order. Not until slowly, the kid lowered himself to his knees. Head hanging on his chest. Teeth grinding against each other so hard, Xavier could hear it clearly. 

Xavier reached down to grab Miguel’s chin, forcing him to look at him. 

“Look at me when I talk to you. You’re so pathetic. Look at you. Groveling at my feet,” Xavier can’t help himself when he laughs, thumb idly tracing Miguel’s jaw. “You look better like this. Okay, back to the rules. If you mention Solomon or Henrietta to me. I will beat their names out of your thoughts. They don’t exist anymore. Not unless I say so. You’re not going to see them for a long, long time. So better get used to it. If I see their names in your hands, I’ll break them again. Nod if you understand.” 

There were tears in Miguel’s eyes, making them shine in the dull light. Slowly, he nodded. Bottom lip quivering. Since when has Miguel been so pretty when he cried? Xavier watched as the tears overflowed and slowly started down Miguel’s cheeks. He leaned forward, licking them away with his tongue. 

“Don’t cry.. it’s fine. All you need is me anyway. I own you. You’re mine. You were never Solomons, or Henrietta’s. Or even Jesse’s. You’ve always been mine,” Xavier stated plainly. He let go of Miguel’s jaw. Watching him idly. “If you’re ever in the house again, you don’t sit on the furniture. You’re only allowed your cot in here. Otherwise, you stay on the floor where you belong.” 

Xavier sighed, pulling out a cigarette and a match from his shirt pocket. Then he lit it. Taking in a puff and relishing in the wave of relief that coursed through him. He leaned down and blew out the smoke in Miguel’s face. His nose scrunched and he coughed. Xavier laughed. Taking a seat on Miguel’s cot with a creak. 

“Come here,” he called to him, waving him over to the spot in between his legs. There was a moment of hesitation, Miguel’s expression twisting into one of apprehension. “I said come here Miguel.” 

Slowly, Miguel shuffled on his knees in between Xavier’s legs. “Whenever Jesse comes in? You do what he says. If you fight, or hurt him in anyway, I’ll take your tongue. Not like you need it anyway,” he said as he took another drag. Blowing it again in Miguel’s face. Again, Miguel nodded, adams apple bobbing up and down. Xavier was half hard in his pants. But.. he wasn’t here for that. Not today. 

“Open your mouth Miguel.” 

Another moment of hesitation. The boy swallowed thickly, before slowly opening his mouth. “Close your eyes and stick your tongue out, mutt.” 

A whimper came from the back of the boy's throat that sent a heat to Xavier's core. Still, Miguel complied, eyes closing and tongue sticking out. His breathing was hard. Miguel was panting like a dog too. 

Xavier took one more drag from his cigarette, then promptly put the burning end out on Miguel’s tongue. One hand grabbed Miguel by the throat, the other on his shoulder to hold him still. His eyes shot open and he screamed. Closing his mouth shut and accidentally taking the cigarette into his mouth. Xavier slammed a hand over his mouth and nose. Growling. 

“I didn’t say you could open your eyes, or close your mouth.. so now you have to swallow it.” 

Miguel shook his head, trying to free himself of Xavier's hand. Falling backward, Xavier followed him, straddling him and only pushing the hand harder on his face. 

“Swallow it or suffocate your choice kid.” 

The boy whined, tears starting to flow freely down his face again. Xavier wrapped a hand around his throat, gently squeezing. Finally he saw the boy swallow, felt it slide down his throat. Then he let the boy go. Stepping off him and watching Miguel roll on his side and cough harshly. Miguel started to retch, good hand holding onto his stomach. Xavier watched with disinterest until the boy finally stilled for a moment, pressing his forehead into the hay covered floor. He retched another time, and this time bile, ash, and the cigarette was in a puddle on the floor.  

His hand was rubbing circles on his chest as he sat himself up on his knees. Xavier didn’t care about that though. He moved to the front of Miguel, crouching just in front of the vomit on the floor. 

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” 

Every part of Miguel was trembling, his eyes glassy. Xavier reached out to him, gripping at his hair, before slamming his face downwards. He held his face down in the vomit. That was what people did to bad dogs right? Shove them in their own sick? Miguel was fully sobbing now, but he wasn’t struggling, instead he just laid there. There was a feeling of satisfaction at that. He let Miguel’s hair go. Watching as Miguel slowly let himself sit up again.  “I’ll bring you a bucket and a towel to clean yourself up.” 

With trembling hands, he signed a simple ‘thank you’ to Xavier. 

“When I come back, your food better be gone. And you’ll be on your knees waiting for me right?” 

A sniffle and a nod is what he got in response. It was good enough. Xavier stood up and left. He took a little longer to get the supplies he needed. It would give Miguel a chance to collect himself, to breathe. Sometimes with Miguel, leaving him alone was just as useful as spending every moment with him. The kid was someone who tended to get trapped in his own thoughts. Spiraling lower and lower if left alone in the right environment. Xavier’s sister was similar in that way. When they were younger, she’d follow him around because her thoughts were always too loud. 

When he came back, Miguel was already on his knees, chin against his chest. His plate of simple sliced apples and goat cheese was gone. He didn’t think that anything heavier would sit well in Miguel's stomach. His eyes glanced up from the ground and met Xaviers. Xavier smiled, dropping the bucket with water next to them. Miguel jumped a little when it landed.

Slowly, he reached out to grab the towel and squeeze the excess as best he could with one hand. Miguel started with his face and neck, being careful over sore spots, still trying to get everything off his skin. He didn’t dare look at Xavier as he did so. The only noise for a few minutes was the sound of the rag being dipped into the bucket, squeezed and rubbed against Miguel's skin. He didn’t stop until Xavier waved him over, between his legs again. “Open your mouth for me,” he ordered. 

This time, Miguel did not hesitate as he opened his mouth. Xavier could see it there, the blister on his tongue. White and bubbled. His whole tongue was red and irritated as well. Xavier grabbed Miguel’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting his head up slightly to look more clearly. 

“Does it hurt?” Xavier asked, slowly, enunciating clearly for the boy to see. 

The boy nodded, swallowing thickly. His breath was shaky, hot on Xavier’s hand. His free hand went to his belt, where his flask was. Lately, he’d been carrying it around more often. He twisted it open with his teeth. First, he held it over his mouth, about to tip it in. “If you spit it out, or if any drops. You’re licking it off the floor.” 

Then he poured it inside Miguel’s open and waiting mouth. If Miguel could scream, Xavier was sure he would have. But he was forced to let the alcohol coat his mouth. Swallowing with a choked gasp. Everytime Miguel swallowed and tried to take a breath, Xavier poured more down his throat. Making sure it coated his tongue. Miguel’s face was flushed red and his eyes glazed by the time Xavier poured the last bit down his throat. Finally letting go of Miguel’s face. “Repeat the rules back to me.. All the new ones. I want you to remember.” 

Miguel squinted up at Xavier’s lips, whimpering slightly. Xavier waited. Watching him carefully. The boy swayed slightly from his position on the floor. He shook his head and groaned lightly, resting his head on Xavier’s knee.  

“No no..” Xavier said, cupping Miguel's face and once again making the boy look at him. “I need you to tell me. It’s best you do it now. Once that whiskey really kicks in, I doubt you’ll remember your own name. You’re a lightweight,” he finished with a chuckle. 

Miguel blinked a few times, Xavier could see him thinking hard through the fog of the alcohol. He could be patient, he could wait for him to answer. This was just a test. Finally, after a moment and a short grunt, Miguel lifted his hand to finger spell a rule. 

“It’s okay if it’s not the whole rule, you can just sign the basics,” he assured softly. 

Miguel nodded and shut his eyes tightly, probably hit by a wave of dizziness. But the boy was starting to finger spell the basic rules. 

Always listen, no hurting Jesse, knees when you come in.

“You’re forgetting some Miguel,” Xavier whispered softly. Miguel swallowed thickly again, resting his head in the palm of his hand. He shook his head, whimpering. “You can do it sweetheart.” 

No Solomon. No Hen. No furniture.

Xavier grinned, all teeth and fondness. It seeped through everything. Miguel did know how to listen apparently. Despite the obvious issue with his hearing, he was a good listener. His eyes were fluttering shut, full body weight on his hand now. The only thing holding up Miguel's head was Xavier at this point. “I’m gonna ask you to do one more thing, just one more question for me sweetheart, can you do that?” Miguel groaned, a choked sound coming from him. “I know you’re tired. Just one more thing.” 

His eyes drooped but he lifted his head higher to look at him. “Good boy. What are you?” 

Miguel made a face of confusion, brain moving slowly, face contorting with realization as he shook his head. The immediate regret of that action, making him groan and his eyes roll backwards for a moment. Xavier removed his hand from holding up Miguel, and the kid slumped against his knee, slowly sliding down his leg. He made the sign for ‘please’ clumsily. Xavier stared down in contempt, kicking Miguel onto his back. He resting his spur on his shoulder, pressing it into the skin there.  

“What are you Miguel?” 

A sob emitted from the squirming thing beneath his boot. Coming fully from his chest as he lifted his good hand to grab at Xavier’s boot. He sighed, pressing the spur harder into Miguel's shoulder, a small pinprick of blood started to surround the spur. Miguel groaned and turned his face away from Xavier. But finally, he answered, signing, “Dog”. 

Xavier laughed, standing up from his seat and straddling Miguel. Grabbing his face, and leaning forward, they were so close he could smell the whiskey he poured on the boys breath. 

“Again.” 

Dog. 

“Again.”  

Dog. 

“One more time sweetheart.” 

Miguel was fully sobbing now, tears streaking down his face. Snot running down his lips. Truly pathetic. Just how Xavier liked him. He gently leaned forward again, pressing a soft kiss to Miguel’s forehead. 

Dog. I am a dog.  

“Good boy Miguel. Good boy.” 

Now they could start again. Fresh. New rules, new dog. It was a whole new start. 

Everything was going to be different now. In a good way. In the best way they could be. Because now, all each of them had was him. That was all they were ever going to need from now on.

___ Taglist:

@demondamage @burntcoffeewhump @angst-after-dark @just-a-silly-little-whumper @tictac-murder-spaghetti @crash-bump-bring-the-whump @whumpifi

@flowersarefreetherapy @badgerwhump @whumpbees @whumplr-reader

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[sixty-silver-wishes]

Hi! I figured out where I read about that thing between Shostakovich and Prokofiev. It was in Testimony by Solomon Volkov (so take it with a grain of salt), and the person who wanted them to reconcile was Vano Muradeli, the composer of The Great Friendship and the same guy who threw Shostakovich, Prokofiev, Khachaturian, Popov, Shebalin, and Myakovsky under the bus in 1948.

ahhhh, okay. yeah; testimony is a tricky source! I’ve admittedly only read parts of it. I have the full thing on a pdf, but I haven’t read the entire thing, mainly because I’m kinda worried I’ll get the information in there mixed up with what I’ve read in more credible sources. but thanks!!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Mike Luckovich

* * * *

House Oversight Committee Impeachment hearing produces damning evidence—against Donald Trump.

It is difficult to describe how badly the House impeachment hearing went for Republicans on Wednesday. Republicans produced two witnesses who were supposed to damage President Biden. But the witnesses were jokes. The first—Tony Bobulinksi—famously met with Mark Meadows “under the bleachers” at a Trump rally while wearing a ski mask.  Who among us hasn’t done the same thing when chatting about innocent matters? The second witness testified from prison, where he is serving time for looting the retirement funds of a tribal entity of the Oglala Lakota Nation.

Both witnesses testified to brief meetings where Joe Biden talked about their families and backgrounds. Neither testified that Joe Biden—then a private citizen—was involved in any business dealings with Hunter Biden. And that was the highlight of the day for Republicans.  

Then Lev Parnas testified. If you don’t remember Lev Parnas, he is a Ukrainian American businessman tasked by Rudy Giuliani to “find dirt” on Joe Biden.

Parnas’s testimony was devastating. See CNN, Lev Parnas, ex-Giuliani associate, testified allegations against Bidens are false and 'spread by the Kremlin'

CNN described Parnas’s testimony as follows:

“The American people have been lied to, by Donald Trump, Rudy Giuliani and various cohorts of individuals in government and media positions. They created falsehoods to serve their own interests knowing it would undermine the strength of our nation." “Congressman Pete Sessions [and] Senator Ron Johnson and many others understood they were pushing a false narrative. The same goes for John Solomon, Sean Hannity and media personnel, particularly with Fox News, who use this narrative to manipulate the public ahead of the 2020 elections. Sadly, they are still doing this today as we approach the 2024 elections.” Parnas maintained during the hearing that there was no evidence of Biden family corruption involving Ukraine and that the baseless accusations against the president came from the Russian government.

"The only information ever pushed on the Bidens and Ukraine has come from one source and one source only: Russia and Russian agents.”

So, the guy who was hired to find dirt on Joe Biden anywhere in the world testified that there was none to be found—and that the false allegations came from Russian agents.

At this point, efforts by House Republicans to repeat the false allegations spread by Russian agents should be seen as promoting counter-intelligence and election interference efforts against the US.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

[slytherizz]

Snippet - Arranged Marriage WIP

If you sent me an Ask requesting an arranged marriage fic ages ago…I am working on it and I’m sorry it’s taking so long! Im actually really excited about your ask and I have so many ideas it’s just finding time to finish it - 💚

Sebastian is almost certain he’d been on the receiving end of a lethal confundus charm. Either that or he was at present suffering a massive life altering haemorrhage. Somewhere amongst the sun deceptively warming his cheeks, the familiar groan of the dragon bones anchored above them, as it tilted its great head in greeting when they'd arrived. Hecate's office, full of mysterious tombs and the lingering scent of smoke. Ash trampled so tightly into the grooves in the floorboards he doubted even the house elves could pry out the smell.

He’d gotten too comfortable. No. Down right complacent as of late and now his psyche in a riotous act of self-preservation was giving him a blistering slap back into reality.

Pull yourself together.

Sebastian dug his nails into the soft flesh of his palm. He hissed, a sharp pain as he broke the skin. Felt the blood prickle hot against his sweat slicked palms as it beaded along the thin wound. Uncomfortable. Stinging. And far, far too real.

“What-?” he managed to croak around a lump in his throat. Praying to Merlin that if this wasn’t a dream it was some elaborate and albeit cruel practical joke.

“Spousal Privileges,” Hecat repeated.

Sebastian choked violently on his own saliva. The wind knocked out of him by a patient and vindictive phantom.

“What this means is you couldn’t be forced to give a testimony or surrender any memories pertaining to anything to do with Mr Sallow. With your sisters still missing, the only people who know what really happened in that catacomb are the two of you. If you can’t be forced to corroborate this theory that’s the way it stays,” his professor continued, unmoved by the blood draining rapidly from his face.

Her eyes were fixed intently on Hecat refusing to meet Sebastian’s panicked eye. He shifted in his seat towards her. Turning between her and their professor.

Waiting. A heartbeat and then more passed. Mounting up until it became a deafening drum in his ears.

He wanted her to laugh. Let it loose the dangerous tension mounting with every second this insanity stretched on for. Most pathetically of all - he wanted her to save him. Cling to some sense of normalcy, her stability by his side whilst the rest of him was spiraling out of control.

She was uncharacteristically still in her chair. Her fist clenched so tightly in the pleats of her skirt her knuckles blanched white. A half finished braid she’d been fiddling with behind her ear hung abandoned.

“Why now? It’s been years since…” she asked, with a measured tone Sebastian felt the situation did not warrant.

Sparing him a glance which did little to put him at ease. If anything the serious crease to her brow set him on edge.

Sebastian was unravelling. The thread he’d used to stitch back together a semblance of a life was pulling apart at an alarming rate. And the only two people who had any hope of holding him back together were entertaining this insanity.

“Some of Miss Sallow’s effects were uncovered at the former Feldcroft residence. It seems no one had tended to the home since your Uncle passed…unexpectedly. My contact at the Ministry informs me that there's only one Auror pushing for those memories. Sergeant Tuttle. Old guard. Worked closely with your uncle when they were both juniors in the department. The rest are happy to let Solomon’s memory remain as it has been for the past two years - the heroic final act protecting his young charges from a horde of uncontrollable inferi… personally am inclined to agree.”

Hecate’s already thin lips pulled so tight they almost entirely disappeared. Her inscrutable brown eyes peeling back the curtain seeing far beyond the truth to the crux of him, weighing his mettle.

But what he had been was careless. Sebastian supposed he could argue that . He’d been too eager to turn his back on that hovel that had never been his home. Knowing Anne was not there it had seemed rather pointless. No one had touched the wards in over a year. Perhaps when he’d boxed up his feelings and shoved them away. In his desperation to move past what he had done, he didn’t consider the possibility that there were others out there who, unlike him, may not want to move on so hastily from Solomon's death.

Anne certainly hadn’t.

“With you two being so close, this is the cleanest option-”

“I don’t bloody care about clean!” Sebastian broke from his stupor. Fist slamming on the table rattling the spoon from where it rested against his saucer. “We need the other options. What are they?”

“Perhaps I should rephrase,” Hecat said sharply. “This is your only option. And you’d do well not to leap to such dramatics if you want this to work, Mr Sallow. In particular I’d advise against taking such a tone with me.”

Sebastian didn’t care. He’d already geared up to argue back against this preposterous idea when she cut him off.

“We’ll do it.”

Sebastian choked again, head snapping to look at her. “You can’t be serious!”

She simply glared back at him, as if he wasn’t the only reasonable person left in the room. “I’ve kept you out of Azkaban this long-“

Their professor cleared her throat, having little patience for the argument that was beginning to unfold.

“I’d choose your words more carefully in front of an audience but I admire the passion. If you want this to succeed you’ll have to make them believe this. Believe you. You can’t cast any doubt on the reason for any of it. A young couple, so in love they simply cannot wait to be married.”

[hiswordsarekisses]

“…There are times when He will make no secret of His love for us, times when He will confirm it, and put it beyond all dispute into the souls of His people” (R. Erskine’s Sermons).”

(Praise God for those times. This happened for me in a way I will never forget and just happened for my little granddaughter, and I know she will never forget it either. She reads her Bible before she even gets out of bed, and she had struggled with the question “am I really saved?” And one morning she opened her Bible and there sat a revelation that can only come from God - and understanding that can only come by His spirit to a small child. - Dana Klibert)

“The Holy Spirit takes the things of Christ and reveals them to us. No voice is heard from the clouds, and no vision is seen in the night, but we have a testimony more certain than either of these.

“The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God,” Romans‬ ‭8‬:‭16‬

Because we are His children, He has sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” Galatians‬ ‭4‬:‭6‬‬

He says, ‘Behold, you are beautiful, my love. …I have loved you with an everlasting love’ (song of Solomon 1:15 & Jeremiah 31:3)

If an angel should fly from heaven and inform the believer personally of the Savior’s love for him, the evidence would not be one bit more satisfactory than that which is born in the heart by the Holy Spirit.

Ask the Lord’s people who have lived the nearest to the gates of heaven, and they will tell you that they have had seasons when the love of Christ toward them has been a fact so clear and sure that they could no more doubt it than they could question their own existence.

We have had times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord, and our faith has soared to the heights of assurance.

We have had confidence to lean our heads upon the shoulder of our Lord, and we have not questioned our Master’s affection for us.

The dark question, “Lord, is it I that will betray You?” has been put far from us.

He has kissed us with the kisses of His mouth and killed our doubts by the closeness of His embrace. His love has been sweeter than wine to our souls.”

~ Charles Spurgeon

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Woman and the Dragon

1 And a great sign was seen in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon underneath her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars;

2 And she was with child, and she cried out, travailing in birth and being in pain to bring forth.

3 And another sign was seen in heaven; and behold, there was a great red dragon, having seven heads and ten horns, and on his heads seven diadems.

4 And his tail drags away the third part of the stars of heaven, and he cast them to the earth. And the dragon stood before the woman who was about to bring forth, so that when she brings forth he might devour her child.

5 And she brought forth a son, a man-child, who is to shepherd all the nations with an iron rod; and her child was caught up to God and to His throne.

6 And the woman fled into the wilderness, where she has a place there prepared by God so that they might nourish her there a thousand two hundred and sixty days.

7 And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels went to war with the dragon. And the dragon warred and his angels.

8 And they did not prevail, neither was their place found any longer in heaven.

9 And the great dragon was cast down, the ancient serpent, he who is called the Devil and Satan, he who deceives the whole inhabited earth; he was cast to the earth, and his angels were cast down with him.

10 And I heard a loud voice in heaven, saying, Now has come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of His Christ, for the accuser of our brothers has been cast down, who accuses them before our God day and night.

11 And they overcame him because of the blood of the Lamb and because of the word of their testimony, and they loved not their soul-life even unto death.

12 Therefore be glad, O heavens and those who dwell in them. Woe to the earth and the sea because the devil has come down to you and has great rage, knowing that he has only a short time.

13 And when the dragon saw that he was cast to the earth, he persecuted the woman who brought forth the man-child.

14 And to the woman there were given the two wings of the great eagle that she might fly into the wilderness into her place, where she is nourished for a time and times and half a time from the face of the serpent.

15 And the serpent cast water as a river out of his mouth after the woman that he might cause her to be carried away by its current.

16 And the earth helped the woman, and the earth opened its mouth and swallowed the river which the dragon cast out of his mouth.

17 And the dragon became angry with the woman and went away to make war with the rest of her seed, who keep the commandments of God and have the testimony of Jesus.

18 And he stood on the sand of the sea. — Revelation 12 | Recovery Version (REC) The Recovery Version of the Holy Bible © 2016 Living Stream Ministry. All rights reserved. Cross References: Genesis 3:1; Genesis 3:15; Exodus 19:4; Deuteronomy 32:11; Job 1:9; Job 1:11; Job 2:5; Psalm 2:9; Psalm 96:11; Psalm 104:2; Song of Solomon 6:10; Isaiah 26:17; Isaiah 27:1; Isaiah 44:23; Isaiah 66:6-7; Daniel 7:7; Daniel 8:10; Daniel 10:13; Daniel 10:21; Daniel 12:12; Matthew 2:16; Matthew 23:24; Luke 14:26; John 16:33; 2 Corinthians 11:3; 1 John 2:3; Revelation 11:12; Revelation 20:2; Revelation 20:11