#leahsmythfamily

[lasbrumas-archived]

@femmedeitiesnet | event two | summer’s end | deity ↳ áine ; irish goddess of summer, wealth, & sovereignty

it’s the end of summer. time for áine to retire until next year, always chasing the summer sun.

{@deanervs template}

[daphnaea]

a e r g i a

goddess of sloth

[asheoki]

ATTENTION ARTISTS!!

If you make any sort of art and post it on Tumblr and do commisions and or take requests, send me a message if you want to be in my artist masterlist!

[medeaes]

Divinations

This year, Winter hit Hogwarts with a ferocity that reach down into the lake. Icy death crept down it’s depths, separated only by glass from the Slytherin common room. Blaise sat on the floor by the fireplace with Pansy. A mossy green quilt draped over her shoulders, black hair half tucked beneath it. They sat with notebooks sprawled between them, cross sharing notes from Divination class in preparation of O.W.L.s. His handwriting perfected and neat, hers haphazardly scrawled amongst doodled runes. Unfortunately, their combined notes didn’t add up to much.

Word Count: 1182

This year, Winter hit Hogwarts with a ferocity that crept even down into the lake. Icy death crept down it’s depths, separated only by glass from the Slytherin common room. Blaise sat on the floor by the fireplace with Pansy. A mossy green quilt draped over her shoulders, black hair half tucked beneath it. They sat with notebooks sprawled between them, cross sharing notes from Divination class in preparation of O.W.L.s. His handwriting perfected and neat, hers haphazardly scrawled amongst doodled runes. Unfortunately, their combined notes didn’t add up to much. Both Pansy and Blaise struggled to pay attention in that class, especially when Professor Trelawny’s character entertained far more than what she was actually saying.

Especially when Draco’s glasses over eyes grew more distant with each passing day. He was a wandering ghost; A sight that sent a cold bullet into both Pansy and Blaise’s hearts.

Lately, Draco had been cruel. Of course, he always was a cruel boy, boisterous and impatient. But never to Blaise and Pansy outrightly so. Now it seemed Draco didn’t worry about superiority. Rather, he didn’t want anyone’s attention or company even to walk between periods. They all joined the Inquisitorial Squad together, but as the months went by, he missed more and more meetings. The distance between him and his friends was unsettling to say the least. He almost never went to bed. He roamed the castle halls all hours. He didn’t eat. He didn’t even pretend to marvel at the daily magic Hogwarts performed for its students during the Holidays.

He looked like he was sleep walking, a deathless corpse waiting for an initiative.

It sucked to say the least, mainly because of all times this was when friends should be there for each other. But Blaise could only watch from afar. He’d tried to get Draco to talk, but all he got was a shrug in response and more cancelled plans.

“I’m worried too,” Pansy whispered so quietly Blaise thought he’d imagined it.

“Yeah,” he fingered absently through his textbook, “the O.W.L.s are going to kill this year. Heaven knows what that Umbridge has planned for-”

“Blaise…” her dark eyes looked up at him from the scattered papers. He cracked his knuckles, a nervous tick. She wasn’t talking about the O.W.L.s.

“I know.”

“I knew things would change with,” her voice dipped quietly, “Voldemort’s return but…not like this. I quite actually believed it would go the other way. The Malfoys-”

“We shouldn’t talk about this,” he pretended to flip past illustrations of tarot formations. Pansy didn’t respond. Only wrapped her quilt closer.

Far above, they could hear the hoots and hollers of Gryffindors running down the hall after another Quidditch win. All that seemed so trivial now. Blaise admits even he couldn’t get himself to bat an eye when an professor barked “ten points from Slytherin!” It was all white noise behind the politics that plagued the wizarding world. Of course, things would change in their favor with Voldemort’s return, but a price had to be paid. What part Draco’s father had to play clearly wilted him as well.

The two tried to discuss their notes, find any missing points in the text and recreate the tarot readings Trelawny exampled in class. Still, amongst the crackling fire and hushed tones, the conversation lingered back to their friend. The mantle clock ticked on. A pack of second years wandered in the common room. With quick threatenting glares, Blaise and Pansy got the little ones scrambling into the dorms.

“Lets both do a practice reading,” Blaise rubbed his forehead. “I’ll do yours first-”

“No,” she bit her lip, “what if we did it for someone else.”

Blaise nodded his head. Amongst Slytherins, there was a strange bond within their cunning, selfish yet brash nature. Every year had its own wolf pack, kids with spines like bowstrings. Tight and pulled back, waiting for a moment to let go. To release that wound up ambition, usually on the other students. The gang -  Blaise and Pansy and Draco and even the two gits Grab and Goyle - never had to ask what each other were scheming. They just got each other. At least, they used to.

Pansy shuffled her deck while Blaise cleared the carpet for her.  

Pansy Parkinson always had a knack for Divination. Something about the way her nimble hands grazed the cards fast and violent, but also with such purpose. Her eyes zoned out into another dimension, unfocused, and her chin tilted high. With a flick she placed ten cards faced down in an ‘H’ formation. The Celtic Cross.

Like she was holding her breath, Pansy sighed and looked up at Blaise. He nodded. In an attempt to at least try to study, she flipped the cards over. Blaise would explain the meaning behind that card’s position, and Pansy the meaning of the individual card.

One by one they went through them, but there were no surprises in Draco’s reading. Darkness, expectations, privilege. It was working, clearly, as every reading made sense but none of it gave the two an explanation. No answers, nothing specific enough.

They spoke in hushed tones back and forth like an incantation.

They didn’t hear the clicked steps coming down the stairwell into the common room. They didn’t see the white haired boy enter and slowly step around chairs, shoulders drooping forward and brows low.

“Last card,” said Blaise, racking his brain to remember his notes. “The tenth card. It tells the final outcome for this line of events told by previous cards. As it is based on the other nine cards, this one only comes if the others play out accordingly.”

Pansy moved her hand to turn over the final card. As she did so, Draco came over to the fireplace to stand ever slightly out from corner of the two’s eyes.

The card flipped and Blaise momentarily closed his eyes in grief.

“Ten of Swords,” Pansy said.

It was then that Blaise opened his eyes and looked up.

“Failure. Suffering from an unforeseen event. Betrayal by the hand of someone you love.  Sometimes, even death,”

“Pansy,” Blaise said in a warning. She looked up at him, and then followed his eyes to where their friend stood. All she could think was that Draco’s face wasn’t one she recognized anymore. Draco opened his mouth to speak and she almost prayed what came out was something familiar. Something endearing like “I hope that’s for Potter,” or a “You turned the card over wrong, you squib.”

His lips curled as he said, “The fire’s getting low. Better finish up before it goes out,” and turned on his heel towards boy’s dorms. Before either Pansy or Blaise could say a word, Draco was out of reach.

“Already gone,” said Blaise.

Pansy stared down at the card, suddenly wanting to tear them into little bits. Instead, she collected them back into a stack and said, too quietly: “Isn’t he, though?”

[kinardgo]

I’ma gonna do some concept gifsets for a fic of mine that I’m working on, if anyone here is a writer and would like one/has a fic they wanna nominate for one then pop into my inbox?

[daphnaea]

@modernmythsnet | event twenty | equinox | natural

↳ persephone

In ancient times, the spring equinox marks the time of the return of the goddess Persephone from the Underworld. 

[daphnaea]

greek myth meme: monsters (1/3) - medusa

Medusa, in Greek mythology, the most famous of the monster figures known as Gorgons. She was usually represented as a winged female creature having a head of hair consisting of snakes; unlike the Gorgons, she was sometimes represented as very beautiful. Medusa was the only Gorgon who was mortal; hence her slayer, Perseus, was able to kill her by cutting off her head.

[daphnaea]

hygeia

In Greek as well as Roman mythology, Hygeia was one of the Aeclepiadae; the sons and daughters of the god of medicine, Asclepius, and the goddess of healing, Epione. She was the goddess/personification of health, cleanliness and hygiene. In classical sculpture she was represented as a woman holding a large serpent in her arms.

Requested by anonymous

[daphnaea]

@modernmythsnet | event twenty one | women's month | natural

↪ hera

I cannot find a way to make my suffering poetic; I cannot turn my blood into art

[daphnaea]

Youths who were most handsome. Adonis, son of Cinyras and Smyrna, whom Venus loved.

[daphnaea]

@modernmythsnet | event twenty three | spring | natural

↪thallo

The Hour of Spring, protector of youth and nature. She is a regular companion of Aphrodite, but also the one who waits for Persephone and walks with her when she leaves the Underworld.

[daphnaea]

@modernmythsnet | event twenty one | women's month | natural

↪ artemis

I am a wild thing, feral and unable to be contained

[daphnaea]

hesychia

personified spirit of quiet, rest, silence and stillness

Requested by @hesychiae

[daphnaea]

@modernmythsnet | event twenty two | poetry | natural

- Emily Skaja, from “Brute Strength,” Brute

[daphnaea]

greek myth meme: heroes (4/6) - cyrene

Cyrene, in Greek mythology, a nymph, daughter of Hypseus (king of the Lapiths) and Chlidanope (a Naiad). One day Cyrene wrestled a lion that had attacked her father’s flocks. Apollo, who was watching, fell in love with her and carried her off from Mount Pelion, in Thessaly, to Libya. There he founded the city of Cyrene and made her its queen. The story is told by the 5th-century-BC lyric poet Pindar (Pythian Ode 9). Cyrene was the mother by Apollo of Aristaeus and Idmon the seer and by Ares of Diomedes of Thrace.

[daphnaea]

@modernmythsnet | event twenty one | women's month | natural

↪ izanami

I am not violent, I am not malicious - I am a result