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#guardian of remembrance
noirandchocolate · 5 months
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I may have futzed around with regular and EX non-story missions/vicious monsters too much before finishing the main Age of Calamity storyline missions.
Allies: Oh god oh no there's a Malice Hinox in the courtyard!!!
Zelda: *runs in, puts a light ring on it, does her special* No there's not.
Blood Moon: *rises*
Allies: *collective screaming* THE MONSTERS ALL CAME BACK ALIVE?
Zelda, Link, Impa, and Rhoam: *about 3 minutes later* No they didn't.
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korck · 1 month
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talked about it a bit in my stream but forever upset that they ditched 95% of the lore botw built in totk. this is my house. that isn't my loz lore that's the shitty version of olive garden
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Olivia Newton-John remembered by Didi Conn
15. 12. 2022
26 September 1948 – 8 August 2022
The actor who played Frenchy remembers her Grease co-star with whom she shared a deep friendship for more than 40 years.
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panicinthestudio · 1 year
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Police chief gives details on 'heartbreaking' Colorado Springs shooting, November 20, 2022
At least five people were killed and another 18 were injured in a shooting late on Saturday at an LGBTQ+ nightclub in Colorado Springs. The suspected shooter, 22-year-old Anderson Lee Aldrich, is in custody, the chief of the Colorado Spring police department, Adrian Vasquez, said at a news conference Sunday morning. Aldrich immediately began shooting when he entered the club on Saturday, and at least two patrons quickly confronted him and subdued him, Vazquez said. 'We owe them a great debt of thanks,' he added.
The Guardian
Further reading:
NPR: Live Updates: Colorado Springs Club Q Shooting, November 20, 2022
AP: Police: Gunman kills 5 at gay nightclub, subdued by patrons, November 20, 2022
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dollhouse-tales · 2 years
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[Original Character Skins: Identity V OCs]
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Yami
S-tiers |
"Innocence"/RED TEXT [Magical Malevolence | Essence/Completion]
Chrysanthemum [Chinese Flowers | Essence]
A-tiers |
Remembrance [Might I have a word? | Essence]
Windwheel [Comulus | Essence]
Amane [OC crossover Essence]
B-tiers |
None yet :)
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Amy
S-tiers |
Golden Streak [Graffiti Essence]
A-tiers |
Hayato [OC crossover Essence]
B-tiers |
Gerbera [Flower Festival Essence]
Rom Cremat [Death in the Afternoon | Essence]
Broken Sign [Neon Essence]
Party of the Dawn [Theater of Darkness: Neon Essence]
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Ellie
S-tiers |
Haunted Pink Disk♪ [Neon Essence]
A-tiers |
Jack [OC crossover Essence]
B-tiers |
Candle Lighter [Dead Night's Wedding | Essence]
Ballerina [Phantom of the Opera Essence | Essence]
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Gabriel
S-tiers |
Behold the Fading Light [Might I have a word? | Essence]
A-tiers |
Calamity [OC crossover Essence]
B-tiers |
Decay [store]
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Aubrey
S-tiers |
Running up that Hill [Might I have a word? | Essence]
A-tiers |
"Arbor" [Swap AU | Store]
Alexander [OC crossover essence]
B-tiers |
none yet :0
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Maple
S-tiers |
Sunny's journal [Sunny's Aftermath Essence]
Mabu [OC crossover Essence]
A-tiers |
Charlotte [OC crossover Essence]
Daughter of Coral [Day at the Beach Essence]
B-tiers |
none yet :)
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nayatarot777 · 2 months
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messages from deceased loved ones
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• pile one •
a lot of your deceased loved ones from far back in your family lineage are coming through. a lot of ancestors who may or may not be remembered by people in the present day. your loved ones who you knew in this lifetime are wanting to let you know how they’ve been united again with those who neither of you knew during your lifetime, and there’s something about them wanting you to remember your roots and your ancestral lineage. it may be quite hidden or unknown, but they’re trying to align something that helps shine a light on the people who came way before you. you have a massive spiritual team thanks to all of these ancestors, and they’re constantly watching over you as your guardians. there’s one main guardian that you have (that you were probably closest to when they were alive) who keeps you protected from people who are looking to use you for something. black cats could be significant to this particular person. perhaps green eyes too. remembering your ancestors will lead you to an awakening. there’s a strong energy of your ancestors having a very significant perspective on life that could benefit you to practice yourself. give offerings to your ancestors in remembrance, if you can. this could be something as simple as burning a tea light candle in commemoration of them. building a connection to your ancestors will push you into this awakening, as they’ll be connected with you enough to give you spiritual downloads at that point. there’s something that they’d like to tell you. and this awakening will add onto your own self-protection and discernment with certain types of people too.
your loved ones are wanting you to remember who you are. not just ancestrally but on a soul level too. to value your authenticity. i feel like they can see that you’re not fully being your true self - because you haven’t remembered who you truly are. they want you to do things FOR YOU. they don’t want you to doubt yourself or your self worth. remember that you are always enough - more than enough. your spiritual guardians are always trying to send you messages about that. for some of you in particular, there’s someone in your life who they’re keeping a close eye on. this person is a straight up toad and your ancestors can see this already. that’s why they’re trying to give you signs about holding onto your self worth, because without it, you’ll fall for this toad and their bs. they’re trying to show you that this person isn’t good enough for you. the way that your awakening can come about is when you allow yourself to have a tower moment. internally. to allow the foundation of your false identity to fall and break down. unplug from other people. relax. do some soul searching for what you find worthy for yourself instead of searching for another person to make you feel worthy. they can’t do that for you since it’s your responsibility. that’s what your deceased loved ones would like to tell you.
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personal readings
youtube
• pile two •
they’d like for you to be a lot more outspoken and speak up for yourself. to say exactly what you mean and not allow yourself to be silenced or swayed by what other people say. they’re around you whenever you have to say something that may be difficult for you to vocalise, on guard in case someone tries to react in a negative way that would affect you. they’re helping you to filter through people’s words and the intentions behind them. this will help you to avoid being manipulated. they’re also asking you to speak to them. to say whatever you want to or needed to when they were alive. they’re still able to hear you. they want you to do this as a step towards letting them go. they feel like you’re holding onto them energetically in somewhat of a negative way. they understand this completely, but they want you to practice grieving and mourning them as a way of moving stagnant energy within your emotional space.
they don’t want you to cling onto them energetically anymore - at least not in the way that you have - because it’s not serving you. it’s holding you back in life and they want you to move forward. you can’t unless you allow yourself to mourn them in it’s entirety and to let them peacefully rest. this will be a gradual and slow process of course, but they want you to start it. they want you to begin healing from their death. they’re really emphasising that you haven’t lost them. you’ve lost their physical form as you know it, but you haven’t lost them spiritually and energetically. remember the law of physics: energy can’t be created or destroyed - only transmuted from one form of energy to another. that means that they can never leave this universe that they exist in. just like the rest of us. our bodies’ energy is transmuted into other material on this physical plane, but our consciousness and our essence is always in existence. letting go of how you knew them in their physical form isn’t losing them spiritually. they’ll still be there. it’s time for healing now. use your awareness of physics and energy to heal you during your grieving process. study the laws of energy if you have to. you’ll realise that what made them who they were (their consciousness and their soul) isn’t gone. they just exist in a different dimension of existence now. a dimension that your physical eyes aren’t aware of but one that your spiritual eyes can see.
patreon
personal readings
youtube
• pile three •
they’re wanting you to take positive action towards the things that you have ambition and inspiration for. they can see that you’re in a vulnerable position right now. it’s like you’re waving a red flag as a sign of needing help - and they’re willing to orchestrate things behind the scenes and provide you what you need. but they can only help you in the spirit realm if you take physical action in the material realm towards what you need. you have to pave the road for them to put blessings and opportunities onto it. there’s a lot of anger that they can see that you have. anger that can be an ingredient to use for transmutation into physical action and motivation. your anger can direct you if you learn how to alchemise it and use it to your benefit. don’t suppress it. embrace it and let it be a compass towards what you need to do and where you need to go for your highest good. i’m hearing them say that anger isn’t ‘bad’. anger is perceived as ‘bad’ by the people who benefit from you not defending yourself. not letting yourself show emotionally that you did/didn’t deserve something and you know it. don’t let them suppress you like that.
there’s advice from your loved ones in the spiritual realm to look beyond the horizons that you feel bound by in your life currently. try to see as far into the future as you can and project a positive view and outlook towards it. even if you feel lost at sea with no idea of where you’re going. pinpoint your consciousness to the ideal of a future that makes you feel true and genuine happiness as a destination point. and pair that with physical action that you’re capable of taking in your present moment. don’t worry about how you’ll get to the destination that you’ve set. pave the road, listen to your transmuted anger that turns into motivation and drive, and follow it. this is the way that your deceased loved one(s) can help course correct your life onto the path that’ll cause you to reach your desired objective.
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personal readings
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 7 months
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Supernatural Masterlist 2
Dean Winchester & Little Sister!Reader:
Sweet
Too Much
My Hero
Hold Me
My Job
Strong Enough
Need
Here For (big sister version)
Here For (little sister version)
Not You
Tickle…Spider?
Trade
Let You Down
Trust
Cuddle Buddy
Addiction
Dean’s Girl
Target Practice
Wandering
Sam Winchester & little sister!reader
Worry
Triggers
Abandon
Winchester Brothers & little sister!reader
Reunion
Reunion part 2
Book Dragon:
Girls’ Night:
Busted
Apple Pie
You’ll Never Guess
Family
Sleepyhead
Queen of Hell
It’s Me
Save Me, Brother
Steak and Pie
Jolly Holidays
Man’s Best Friend
My Turn
Sick Day
Confessions
Cuddle Day
Psych
The Loudest Silence
In Remembrance
Room for Two
Almost
A Broken Outing
Be Here
Hide and Seek
Always
Seat Belts Save Lives
Back Off
Heat of the Moment
No Big Deal
Party Time
Bring Me to Life
Universal Love
Something to Hold Onto (Sam & big sister, Dean & little sister)
Search and Rescue
Hope
Furry Friend
Bullies
Stupid Reasons
Heatwave
Love Language
The Family Business
All the Difference
Another
John Winchester & daughter!reader
Princess
Rage Monster
One Big Family
To Save a Life
Long Day
Team Free Will 2.0 & Winchester!reader
67
One Big Family
Team Free Will & Winchester!reader
Best Friends
The Good In You
Prom Night
Big Family
Fight Club, Part 2
Bed time
Like Father, Like Daughter
Castiel & Winchester!reader (platonic)
Guardian Angel
Caretaker
Let It Out
Take Care
Dean Winchester & Daughter!reader
Quality Time
Daddy’s Girl
Sam Winchester & Daughter!reader
Just Like You
Hotheads
Dean Winchester x reader
Opposites React (rugby player au)
Sam Winchester x reader
Home Sweet Home
Gabriel & Winchester!reader (platonic)
Trickster’s Pet, part 2
Rowena Macleod & Winchester!reader (platonic)
Auntie Row
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namorthesubmariner · 1 year
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The set build. Over 300 hand carved, stalagmites and stalactites. The entire set was carved. The Feathered Serpent.
Art Director: Jason Clark
This set inspired by the Ceiba tree, sacred tree of life and the three realms, which Namor occupied all, like Chaac guardian of the underworld. The story of Chaac is intricate, a beneficent entity related to agriculture production and to life.
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As much love and thought to Talokan as to Wakanda, this...is just the beginning of this new world.
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Namor's throne seat. A Magalodon jaw with Jade Teeth. The Hieroglyph carved in the bone reads, "This Jade Tooth Bites." I thought it was charming and dangerous like Namor. The piece was 12 feet tall by 10 feet wide. It was BIG!
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The feathered serpent. From El templo, the Temple of Kukulcán. aka El Castillo, Chichen Itza. The temple has 91 steps on each side and including the platform is 365. Master Engineers, it would be pre-columbian Maya.
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We wanted to have the Feathered serpents presence in Namor's place of peace and remembrance. You would not have seen it in the film but it was important for me that its presence was felt.
My motto, as little CGI as possible. I fought and pushed to build build build! Wherever possible, it's a set.
- Hannah Beachler, Black Panther: Wakanda Forever Production Designer, Academy Award Winner
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sabrgirl · 10 months
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the different kinds of dhikr
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prayers "serve Me, and observe Prayer for My remembrance" (20:15) - here, Allah Himself says that salat is a form of dhikr. these also include the sunnah and nawafil prayers alongside the fard prayers
recitation of the Holy Qur'an "We ourself have sent down this Reminder, and most surely We will be its Guardian" (15:10) - Allah uses the word 'dhikr' here for the sending down of the Qur'an, which shows that reciting the Qur'an is a form of dhikr too and should be done daily. "And this is a blessed Reminder/dhikr that We have sent down; will you then reject it?" (21:51).
repeatedly making mention of Allah's attributes "And when you have finished the Prayer, remember Allah while standing, and sitting, and lying on your sides" (4:104) - Allah asks us not to just remember him and do dhikr during salat, but all the time too. the different dhikr you can say are: - laa ilaha il Allah (there is no God but Allah) - subhanallah x33, alhamdulillah x33, Allahu Akbar x34 (Holy is Allah, all praise belongs to Allah, Allah is the Greatest) - alhamdulillah (all praise belongs to Allah) - astagfirullah (i seek Allah's forgiveness) - ayatul kursi (2:255) - la hawla wa la quwwata illa billah (there is no power except from Allah) - subhanallahi wa bi-hamdihi, subhanallah hil-Adhim (Holy is Allah and worthy of all Praise; Holy is Allah, the Great)
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tinsil · 3 months
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had been meaning to make this for a while, finally had some time over winter break. it's a jizo, guardian of children. i carved one before, coincidentally around the time the ukraine invasion happened, just as wood carving practice, but ended up thinking of it as being "for" the children caught in that conflict. so purposely this time, this one is dedicated to the children of gaza. i'm not a buddhist, and i know this doesn't accomplish anything meaningful, but its a meditation and remembrance for my own sake i guess ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ as i made it and whenever i see it, i think about the children who have died and will die in this assault, and those who will survive with mental and physical scars for life. the loss of life so far is unforgivable, but there are still so many people alive and struggling there, so don't write off the extermination as a forgone conclusion! don't stop calling for a ceasefire
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wisefoxluminary · 11 months
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After watching Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3, I've had a long and hard think about how Peter and Rocket's relationship was portrayed in the film and I think there is clear homoerotic subtext between them. For clarification, homoerotic subtext is when a close friendship between the same sex is portrayed similarly to a romantic one. Here is the instances it was implied throughout the gotg trilogy.
*Spoilers for Guardians of The Galaxy will follow*
When Rocket's life hung on the balance, Peter went to great lengths to save him. Throughout the film, he refers to Rocket as his "best friend". He blames himself for Rocket's injuries as he was drunk at the time and couldn't stop him from getting hurt. When Rocket laid flatlining on the bed and was near death, Peter didn't give up on him. He had hope that he would get out of this alive. He wasn't going to lose another friend. Peter had a heartbreaking, visceral reaction to watching Rocket die before him. He needs Rocket more than anything. He is the one that holds him together even in his darkest moments.
When Rocket comes back from the afterlife, alive and well, Peter hugs him tightly along with Groot, showing how much he cares about him.
"I'm not letting him go"
Peter and Rocket share the same interests in music. They both share ownership of the zune. Rocket can be heard singing along to the music like Radiohead's Creep in the vol.3's prologue. He has formed a special connection to music the same way Quill has had. The connection is utilised when Quill nearly sacrifices his life to get the zune back for Rocket. "I got this back for you" is a very powerful message. Music is the thing that brings them together and makes their bond stronger. His love for Rocket made him get the zune back. It was all in the name of love.
When Peter is away, Rocket would listen to his music as a way of remembering him and to feel that his presence is always with him. Rocket may love to make fun of Quill, but he is everything to him.
Peter and Rocket would argue about who was captain and bicker and throw insults at one another constantly. It was what made up most of the tension between them. They are like a couple arguing, with unresolved sexual tension they choose not to deal with.
Peter has lost so much in his life that he has become a shell of a man. Rocket is scared of losing people and desires to push people away. He blames himself for losing his friends all those years ago and can't bear to lose another. He is scared of disappointing them. They both understand these flaws and help each other work through it.
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When the Guardians were in the Kyln Prison in Vol 1, Rocket wasn't afraid to defend Quill from those who desired to kill him. He was his bounty and if they wanted to get through to him, they had to go through him and Groot.
In Avengers Endgame, Rocket wore Star Lord's scarf as a mark of remembrance after his captain was dusted.
Rocket comes to pull Peter out of his drunken state. In that dark period of his life, when he was mourning Gamora in a unhealthy way, Rocket was the only one that was there for him. He took him out of that dark place and was there for him every step of the way.
Peter appoints Rocket captain and leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy at the end of Vol. 3 because he sees so much of himself in him. He has so much respect and honour for the raccoon after everything that he went through, that he needs someone who can protect those who can't fight for themselves. Those who were once in Rocket's position.
In the mid-credits scene, when Rocket and the new Guardians talk about their music tastes, Rocket introduces the team to the song "Come and Get Your Love" by Redbone, a song that holds a special place in his heart because it was Peter's favourite song. The way he talks about the song prior to playing it is quite melancholic because it reminds him of Peter. Now that he's gone, he misses him with all his heart.
My personal headcanon is that Rocket had feelings for Peter, but was too angry and stuck in his ways to admit it. When he was drunk, It hurt Rocket to see Peter in such a dark and depressing state. When Rocket gets hurt, it spurs Peter into action and it makes him realise how much he cares about the raccoon.
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vigilskeep · 4 months
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festivals of thedas!!
five major holidays are celebrated all across thedas "from tevinter to ferelden", tied to the transition of seasons. (they are generally in the andrastian tradition, and have links to tevinter culture considering its widespread imperialism and influence.) i'm going to talk about what we know from the lore and also what i think the real world inspirations are, but i'm not the most knowledgeable person on that specifically, so if anyone has extra contributions especially for the latter, or thoughts of what their own cultural background might bring to some of these, i would love that!!
first day is celebrated, naturally, on the first day of the year! in the january equivalent month of wintermarch/verimensis. on this holiday, you visit family and neighbours, which in remote areas was once literally just an annual check that everyone was alive. there's a town gathering to commemorate the past year, with drinking and merriment, of course. celebrating the start of a new year is one of the oldest traditional holidays in the world. i might compare the tradition of making visits to scotland's 'first-footing' on hogmanay (new year's eve), where the first person who enters a home is a bringer of fortune (and gifts!). in scotland it should specifically be a dark-haired man to ensure good luck, but there are similar practises in other places with different standards
wintersend is a festival for the end of winter, celebrated at the end of the february equivalent, guardian/pluitanis. originally called "urthalis" and dedicated to urthemiel, old god of beauty and the archdemon from dao, it now celebrates the maker. i would imagine for both it stood to thank them as the bounty and plenty of creation returned to the world. we have some information on how it varies between regions. in the south, it is a day to gather, trade, arrange marriages, and attend theatre. in tevinter, it marks great tourneys and contests at the proving grounds in minrathous. nevarra, too, has "particularly grand" wintersend tournaments.
summerday (you begin to see how creative these names are) honours, you guessed it, the beginning of summer, celebrated at the beginning of may, or bloomingtide/molioris. apparently universally celebrated as a time for joy and marriage, which may explain why it was once called andoralis and sacred to andoral, old god of unity. time for those marriages the southerners arranged at wintersend to be celebrated! but most specifically, it's the day for coming of age. there's no details on at what age this occurs, and it may vary across thedas, but on summerday boys and girls wear white tunics and gowns in a grand procession to the local chantry to be taught the responsibilities of adulthood there. so most characters raised andrastian probably went through this! lots of cultures have coming of age celebrations but i'm not super familiar with them personally as my own is lacking, so i would love to have other people's takes on what else this might involve and if you see any similarities!!
funalis is now much better known in thedas as all soul's day, since after the first blight its original associations with dumat, the old god of silence, became rather unpopular. it's now spent in sombre remembrance of the dead. in some northern lands (i would expect this to be mainly acceptable in tevinter), there are parades after midnight where the people dress as spirits, which sounds so fucking cool, by the way, WHAT does that look like in the cultural imagination. in the south, it memorialises the death of andraste, with public bonfires to mark her death on the pyre, and religious plays depicting the events. all of this is obviously influenced by the real world all souls' day, a christian commemoration of the departed on 2 november, and i suspect visuals of the mexican day of the dead are being called up for the parades. however, funalis is actually celebrated at the start of august/matrinalis, which is equivalent to... you know... august. thedas gets an early start on spooky season i guess? for the southern andrastian stuff i would look at the history of miracle plays and catholic festivals
lastly, satinalia is a holiday accompanied by wild celebration, the wearing of masks, and naming the town fool as ruler for a day. it was once dedicated to zazikel, the old goddess of freedom, but is now more attributed to satina, thedas' second moon. this is very obviously linked to the ancient roman festival of saturnalia, which involved a similar switching of roles for the day, with slaves having the banquets and freedom of speech their masters would normally enjoy, and the rules changing for the day on how dress indicated rank, potentially including mask-wearing. you can see why the goddess of freedom was relevant. it's also been connected to later traditions like the british 'lord of misrule', which could be an influence too! there are many other festivals of masks to look to, as well. satinalia is celebrated at the beginning of firstfall/umbralis, which is november. in antiva, it last for a week or more, while a week of fasting follows. in others, it's marked by large feasts and the giving of gifts.
these are the festival days celebrated in all of thedas (in andrastian culture, at least), and there are likely many more regionally. for example, there's a delightful page in world of thedas vol 2 outlining all nevarra city's entertainments throughout the year, including ancestral pageants of the dead in the autumn, and winter styles of dance that mimic dragon hunting featuring armoured dress and fluttering red cloth, likely inspired by the pasodoble's mimicry of bull and matador. every place and culture in thedas surely has their own, and their own variations on the shared festivals above
i would loveeee if people included these more in their thoughts and fics and hcs. let your beloved characters get engaged at wintersend and remember their coming of age on summerday and dress up for parades!! pls. for my health.
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kwiwrites · 3 months
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Chapter 8 of the hills: INTERLUDE: BROTHER
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And so.  Take my hand. This is how it goes: There’s another whispered remembrance, an echo of a past that they pressed to their mouths like cold bronze coins, but forgot to write into their skin. An echo of a boy named Regulus, and a superimposition of his wings as they unfolded into the dark behind him: his brother’s arms, frail and trembling but undeniably flesh. A guardian, a protector.  The brother was Sirius.  The protector. The guardian.  His hands were wings- in the same way dead leaves were angel-feathers. 
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81-piastri · 5 months
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CHARLES LECLERC: the tragedy of remembrance
Ecclesiastes 9:5, the Bible // Lecler: Jules' memory always associated with Suzuka, GPtoday 19 // Eight Years Later, Tragic Death of Charles Leclerc's Close Friends Jusles Bianchi Remains a Fresh Memory: How Did Jules Bianchi Die?, sportsmanor 23 // Calling a Wolf a Wold, Kaveh Akbar // UNKNOWN // Charles Leclerc dedicates maiden F1 win to memory of Anthoine Hubert, The Guardian 19 // UNKNOWN // Grief, Again, Donte Collins // Charles Leclerc on his father's death: "It has changed me as a person, and also how I see things, The Independent 18 // Le Prodige, Remi Boudoul // Just by Looking at Him, Ryan O'Connell // Deathless, Catherynne M. Valente
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The Guardian, Chapter 4
In which we finally get a look inside Mildrithe’s head and what she’s thinking/feeling about her new elf friend. As a reminder, Haldir and Mildrithe have just arrived at the closest warden post, where he intends to deliver her to the capable hands of someone else who can get her the rest of the way to Caras Galadhon for help while he goes back to his post to resume his duties. Except he’s not feeling great about that plan anymore. Parts one, two and three are available if you want to catch up. And, because I will use it until the end of time, here is the beloved official artwork of this story, courtesy of the many talents of @brigwife
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*****
Mildrithe followed Haldir up a thin rope ladder and into yet another tree. Before the last few days, she would have found this odd, but he seemed to consider trees a perfectly natural place to spend time. And she didn’t mind. Nothing had ever hurt her while in a tree, and she couldn’t say the same for being on the ground.
Like the tall beech where the two of them had spent the previous night, this tree also had a shelter built into its boughs, but the two structures couldn’t have been more different. While last night’s dwelling place was a stark, bare platform, this one had multiple levels spaced throughout the branches, and each contained stores of food and weapons, bedrolls, blankets, water cisterns and other accessories of daily living. And most significantly, this platform had other people on it–people who looked much like Haldir, tall and strong with golden or white-blonde hair and pointed ears. Ellath, he had called them.
Her arrival on the platform drew a lot of interest, and she shrank a little from all the eyes suddenly on her. Haldir spoke rapidly to these ellath, and she guessed from the sound of her own name that he was explaining to them who she was and how she came to be there, though there was much that he still didn’t know, that she kept locked away in the back corners of her own mind. But his words took the attention off of her, and she used the moment to surreptitiously observe his companions.
Rúmil she had met, and he seemed to be closest to Haldir both in appearance and in manner, but there were six others who crowded around as he spoke. She had the distinct sense that Haldir was in charge–the others showed clear deference to him–and she wondered for a moment if he was the king of his people. But, then, he didn’t act like any king she had heard of, not when he spent his time wandering alone in a forest, climbing in and out of trees and eating only whatever small scraps of food he carried on him.
Her eyes swept back over the new faces. She found them all fascinating to look at, both so similar to the men she knew and yet also undefinably different, and she was staring intently when the words of her mother suddenly rang in her ears. “No one likes to be gawked at, Mildrithe.” The memory of that admonishment sent both a hot blush to her cheeks and a wrenching pain to her chest. She worked so hard not to have those memories, but still they came, unbidden, to remind her of her old life. She sniffled a little in an attempt to keep control of herself, and though he didn’t look down or break from the conversation he was having, Haldir heard the sniffle and his hand found hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
After a lengthy discussion, the group dispersed, each member going on to some specific task. Rúmil brought her water and food–fresh fruit, honeycomb and nuts–which she accepted eagerly, having gone days with no food at all and then being confined only to what Haldir had available in his small pack. She dug in with enthusiasm, making a bit of a mess with the sticky honey, and for a time she thought of nothing but sating her own hunger. Halfway through her rations, however, the words of her mother once again sprang unexpectedly to her mind –“what’s ours is ours to share”—and the sting of remembrance did not stop her from turning obediently to look for Haldir, to ensure he had food of his own. He sat alone a short distance away, looking sorrowfully at a small white flower that he turned between his fingers. She recognized it right away as the niphredil flower she had given him the day before, and the unhappiness of his expression sent a warning chill through her. Something was wrong, but she had no idea what it could be.
As she picked at the remains of her food and tried not to brood on the meaning behind his sadness, the other wardens around him were busy stocking several packs in preparation for some kind of departure. Eventually a pack was handed to her, and she looked inside to find her own water canteen, some wrapped food, and a blanket. Any notion that they were going to stay here at this strange little tree camp faded quickly from her mind, and she was not surprised when Haldir and Rúmil gestured for her to follow them back to the ground just a few minutes later.
Rúmil and two others hoisted packs to their shoulders, and Haldir helped to secure hers to her back with several straps. She accepted the help but watched with rising concern as he made no move to lift his own pack or join the little group of travelers. The food she had just eaten suddenly felt like lead in her stomach, and she stared into the deep blue of his eyes, trying to force some kind of sign or acknowledgment that would quiet her fears and assure her that she was drawing the wrong conclusions from the activity around her. Instead, he looked away, and her concern edged toward panic.
When the others seemed ready to leave at last, a few final words were exchanged between Haldir and Rúmil, and then Haldir knelt down in front of her. He opened his mouth as though to speak but thought better of it and took her hand instead, holding it between both of his. When he released his grip, the niphredil blossom sat in her palm. He turned away quickly, rubbing a hand roughly across his chin, and went to stand by the ladder, looking down at the ground as Rúmil lightly gripped her elbow and tugged her into motion.
She staggered forward in unthinking compliance, but each time a foot struck the ground a voice in her head screamed at her to stop. Not to move even a single step further away from the one person she trusted. Tears welled up in her eyes and started to slide down her cheeks, and by the tenth step the voice in her head was so loud that she clutched at her own ears. It made no sense, even in her own mind, to be so attached to him already, but the feeling was undeniably there. He had shown her true kindness, the first person in her life for many months who didn’t want to scare her or hurt her or use her. He was awkward, but he was gentle. Her heart told her that he was safe. That he was good. And she absolutely didn’t want to be parted from him now in order to go on with total strangers.
She looked back over her shoulder in desperation, and when her eyes met Haldir's, a sob ripped through her. Her view of him blurred through her tears and she whimpered his name, but always she felt Rúmil’s hand on her arm, pulling her onward.
“Daro!”
The word exploded from Haldir’s lips and echoed in the trees. Rúmil dropped her elbow and came to a halt, and she used the freed arm to wipe a sleeve across her eyes. With some tears cleared away, she could see Haldir rushing forward, his pack in his hand. He spoke urgently to Rúmil, pointing both back in the direction they had come and forward in the direction they were headed. Rúmil interjected a few times, but before long he raised his hands in a gesture of concession and turned to head back to the tree camp. The other two wardens in the traveling group, Esgalorn and Mirdanion, exchanged looks with one another, brows raised. But neither said anything, and Haldir ignored them. He used the corner of his cloak to wipe the remaining tears from her face, took her hand, and started walking.
The immensity of her relief brought a whole new energy to her spirit. She felt that she could have easily sprinted the entire distance to wherever they were going, though, in fact, she had no idea where that was or how long it would take. But she hustled along at his side anyway, and whenever he glanced down at her, she beamed at him, eager to show just how glad she was to be with him. He always smiled back, but once his eyes were looking forward again the smile would fade. Something still seemed to weigh on his mind, and she reasoned that he was probably worrying about what would happen next, once they arrived wherever they were headed. She had been that way once, too—thinking about the future, making plans, trying to anticipate later problems or griefs—but not anymore. If the last year had taught her anything, it was that the future couldn’t be counted on. All she had was the present and how she felt in the here and now. And right now, at his side, was good. She wished she could tell him that.
The four of them traveled on for the rest of the day, Haldir and Mildrithe together in front and Mirdanion and Esgalorn following behind, keeping up a steady patter of conversation between them. The sound of their words faded into background noise to Mildrithe, and she focused only on what was immediately in front of her. She hopped in and out of the dappled shadows cast on the ground by the swaying, leafy branches above and tracked the sun as it worked its way across the sky. Eventually twilight settled on the forest, the first bright stars appearing in the purplish-blue overhead, and Mildrithe had just begun to wonder whether they were going to spend the night at another makeshift camp when Haldir pointed to faint, twinkling lights on the horizon. Some large city or settlement lay ahead, just across a narrow moat and behind a large, circular wall of green earth. They soon picked up a path that skirted along the wall and at last reached a set of great silver gates. Inside was a city unlike anything Mildrithe had ever imagined.
Caras Galadhon was filled with immense golden-leaved trees, each with a silvery smooth trunk, and the entire city was built into their canopy. White ladders led into many of the trees while others had wooden staircases that wound around the trunks and up into the highest boughs. Lanterns bobbed in the branches, throwing out little golden halos of light, and in this glow could be seen people moving to and fro—tall, graceful people, more of the ellath that Mildrithe was now growing used to seeing. But even as elves were becoming a normal presence in her life, their city took her breath away, and she stopped in her tracks to gape about her. Her mind rushed to catalog beautiful details, to automatically store them away so that she could later describe even a fraction of the magic of this place to her unbelieving family back home, and only the painfully sharp self-correction that she would never have that chance was enough to break the spell of her awe and amazement. She dug her fingernails into her palm, pushing until the stinging in her hand drew her mind away from the feelings and memories that had begun to seep back into her thoughts, and then she hurried after Haldir toward a hill where the largest tree she had ever seen sat like a crown atop the slope.
Someone dressed all in white came down a set of stairs from the tree, moving so smoothly and calmly he almost appeared to float. Esgalorn and Mirdanion bowed, and she noted that even Haldir gave this new figure deep respect. He was clearly someone of importance in the city, perhaps their leader, and so when Haldir gestured for her to come forward, she also bowed. This seemed to amuse the leader, and she hoped that was a good sign, an indication that she would be viewed with favor. He bent down and took a long, slow look at her, and though the scrutiny made her uncomfortable, she didn’t feel that his eyes had any hostility in them. He seemed rather to be gathering information, able to discern far more about her from just his penetrating gaze than she could ever determine from merely looking back at him. She shifted nervously on her feet until he stood at last and turned back to Haldir. A short, low conversation between them followed, and when some point of agreement seemed to be reached, he nodded to Haldir and to her before reascending the stairs, gliding off out of sight.
Hadir dismissed Esgalorn and Mirdanion, who turned off in another direction, and then led Mildrithe down a series of curved paths away from the center of the city. It had by now grown dark, but the pathways and trees were well lit and Haldir seemed certain of his route. She assumed they were headed to a place where they could rest for the night, and their surroundings did get quieter and less crowded as they went. At last, he stopped at the foot of a curved staircase that led up into yet another tree dwelling. He patted a hand against his chest and pointed up the stairs, repeating the gesture several times until he seemed confident that she understood. “Mine,” was her interpretation, and as she followed him up the stairs, she felt a wave of excited curiosity at the idea of seeing his home, the private space where he would be most himself.
The sound of her little boots clomping on the stair treads reverberated in the trees, and soon a curious face appeared at a railing above, drawn by the unexpected noise. A woman peered down at them, and when she saw Haldir on the landing she gave a small gasp and began to run toward him, holding up the hem of her dress so that she could race down the stairs at maximum speed. She had the same elegant beauty and pointed ears as everyone else in the city, though her hair and eyes were both a rich dark brown, and her face was lit up by a wide, brilliant smile. Haldir dropped his pack in just enough time to catch her as she threw herself into his arms, and he spun her around, laughing and smiling with a joyful ease that Mildrithe had never seen from him. She watched their affectionate reunion with unabashed fascination, and her questions about who this woman could be were soon answered when they shared a deep, loving kiss. An inadvertent giggle popped out of Mildrithe’s mouth at the sight of that kiss, and the couple quickly separated, blushing but still smiling at one another.
Haldir rushed through a bunch of words, gesturing repeatedly at Mildrithe, who stood up extra straight and smoothed a hand quickly over her hair and down the front of her dress. If this woman was important to Haldir, then she was important to Mildrithe, and she wanted to make the best possible first impression. At last, he spoke Mildrithe’s name and then pointed to the woman. “Idhrien,” he said slowly and clearly, a hand on his wife’s arm. Mildrithe smiled at her and proudly repeated the words of greeting she had heard at the forest post. “Mae govannen, Idhrien.”
Idhrien stooped down in front of her until she was at Mildrithe’s eye level, and returned the smile. “Westu Mildrithe hal,” she said, and Mildrithe’s heart cracked open in her chest.
She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she had heard her own language, since she had even that most basic comfort of being able to understand what was being said around her and about her. Over time, her awareness of the loss had dulled, but just to hear those few short words now brought back a feeling of warmth and familiarity that she had desperately missed. She would have wept with gratitude if she wasn’t also so eager to speak and to listen now that she finally could.
“How…how do you know those words?”
“My brother was a great lover of languages,” said Idhrien, “and he spent a fair amount of time traveling in your land and learning what he could. He then taught it to me so that he would have someone to practice with when he was home in Lórien.”
“Lórien?”
“That’s where you are. Haldir found you on our borders and brought you here to our chief city. He tells me that you’ve made a very long journey and that you’ve been a very brave girl. He’s proud of you.”
Mildrithe blushed with pleasure at the compliment and looked up at him, watching attentively from his wife’s side. “I want to thank him, but I don’t know how.”
Idhrien smiled again. “Don’t worry. He already knows.”
She stood and gestured for Mildrithe to follow, and they went the rest of the way up the stairs. Once inside their home, they gave her more food and water and a comfortable place to sit with soft cushions and a warm blanket. Idhrien offered her the chance to rest or to take a bath, but there was nothing Mildrithe wanted to do more than to talk—or, more precisely, to ask questions. She had a steady stream of them, about Lórien and elves, about living in a tree, about Haldir and what a marchwarden does, and Idhrien patiently answered them all, taking time to translate for Haldir as she went.
These were all things Mildrithe wanted to know, but they were also safe questions, about other things and other people. She studiously avoided any question about what might be planned for her—where she would go, who she would be with—because she wasn’t at all sure she would like the answer. But eventually, Idhrien seemed to notice the evasion, and she gently curtailed Mildrithe’s questions with one of her own.
“Would you like to know what’s going to happen now that you’re here?”
Mildrithe hugged a pillow to her chest, torn about how to answer. She didn’t want to say yes, but neither did she think she could say no. She settled instead on a vague, non-committal hummed noise.
“Right now, you’ll stay here with us until the Lord and Lady decide what’s to be done. You have nothing to fear from them; they’re good and kind people. Haldir has told Lord Celeborn what he knows, but they will surely have more questions about where you’re from and where you belong. Can you tell us about your home? Your family?”
Mildrithe’s initial joy at being allowed to stay with Haldir and Idhrien was replaced immediately by a heavy anxiety that flooded into her chest. To even think about her home and family was to break her own cardinal rule, and to talk about them with others—to say the words out loud and thereby make those words real—was unthinkable. Her little face grew hot, and she bunched up her skirt in her fists.
“Mildrithe? Are you alright?”
Idhrien was looking at her with real concern, but that only intensified Mildrithe’s distress. The last thing she wanted to do was to disappoint or upset them, but she had never told this story to anyone else. And she was terrified to do it now.
Haldir reached across to take Mildrithe’s hand, and he spoke to her directly for several moments. When he was done, he nodded at Idhrien.
“He says that he understands that you’re afraid, but he promises to keep you safe. He was honored to have your trust when you were together in the forest, and he hopes that you will honor him again by continuing to trust him now.”
Mildrithe looked from his hand up to his steady, calm eyes. The same eyes that had found her when she was lost. Watched over her while she slept. Noticed when she was hungry or thirsty or in pain. He had protected her at every turn, and he had offered her comfort and affection when even she could recognize that it wasn’t always easy for him to show his feelings. A realization slowly dawned on her–if she couldn’t share this pain with someone like him, someone who had shown her so much care, then she might never be able to share it with anyone. And the prospect of carrying it alone, perhaps for all the days of her life, suddenly felt much more terrifying than facing it together with him now.
She stood and inched hesitantly toward him, and he understood her intention right away, lifting her up to sit on his lap. She leaned her cheek against his chest, and for a time all three of them sat in silence, with only their quiet breathing and the soft beating of Haldir’s heart in her ear. And just when he began to wonder whether she had perhaps drifted off to sleep, she opened her mouth and began her story.
*****
Notes: “Daro” means “stop”/“halt”.
Idhrien (which means “thoughtful”) started life as a reader character in my Haldir story Three Weeks on the Nimrodel. She’s the same person here, just with a name. She’s a city warden in Caras Galadhon, though she and Haldir met and fell in love when she was posted temporarily to the border and found a way past his natural reserve and introversion by respecting it and making him feel at ease as himself. Even in that story, she had a brother that traveled in Rohan and taught her Rohirric, so that worked out well here, too!
I don’t have a super clear idea of where the next chapter is going, so it may take me a while. Just FYI.
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magicallittlet · 3 months
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Magical Diary - Fred Weasley
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18+
Warnings: mention of alcohol, consuming alcohol, smut, smoking, smoking w33d, strong language, heavy kissing.
Flasbacks are written in cursive
One - The dream
I've had the same dream every night since my fourth school year at Hogwarts. It always started out as a peace full, yet odd dream. Then suddenly everything turned dark. And the last thing I remember from the dream is a green sharp light. The dream was a memory, a memory that was not easily erased. I soon discovered that the remembrance was about my mother's sudden death.
The events over the summer had been hard on me, so to tell you my story, I'm not going to start from the beginning. I'm going to remember them step by step. It's not that my memory had been Obliviated or anything. It's just easier for me to start right here. But just to get to know me a little, here is just a bit of my childhood.
I had grown up in a town outside London, with my guardian Lydia and her muggle fiancé Henry. Lydia took me in when I was almost two years old. She had been told that she could not have children of her own, so when my dad asked her to take care of me, even though she had major disagreement with my father's decision, she couldn't turn it down. We lived in Epping just outside of London. A little old town filled with charming streets. Henry came into our lives when I was around 7 years old. Lydia told him right away, when things got serious between them, that she was a witch, and that she was raising a little girl with the same condition as her. Henry fell even more in love with her and accepted the adventures and challenges that come with living among two witches. As for my dad. I never saw him again. That was until my fourth school year at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. I had always been aware that he was still alive. But with the fact that he gave me up, I had never in my life thought that he would turn up as the new defense against the dark arts teacher. It took me some time to figure it out. But it was a chair swung to my face. And it made my school year much more difficult than I had ever imagined. And as I was on my way downstairs some of the events from the recent school year flicked before my eyes.
When the period ended, I walked up to Mr. Lupin to give him the homework assignment from the last DADA class. "That was fast, '' Professor Lupin said, like he was confused. "Is that a bad thing?" I asked, a little worried. What if I had screwed up. I really wanted to impress him. He was such a good teacher. "Not necessarily," Professor Lupin said, with a big smile. "Sorry Professor '' I started, and he looked up "You are not by any chance from London sir" I asked, "No, no I'm not" he said with a comfortable voice, while he shook his head. "Oh, okay. I could just swear that I've seen you before" I said curries. "Take some chocolate... it's okay" he said while he was pointing at a pack of chocolate at his table. "Thanks Professor" I said while I took the chocolate and walked out of the classroom.
As I walked out of the classroom, I heard two voices from each side of the doorway. Fred and George were standing leaned up against the wall, just outside the classroom. "Uh she got the chocolate, '' Fred and George said, while they walked on each side of me. "Jealous," I asked confidently. "Not really," George said. "We got some fun to do, Clark," Fred said playfully, while he played with my blond curly hair. "Guys we have Quidditch soon" I said while I tried to stop Fred ruining my hair. "There is just no fun in you, Clark" George said "Coming Fred" he added. Fred smiled at me and went the other way.
I wonder if he knew back then. If I was his daughter. I don't know what's worse. Not realizing that your daughter had attempted Hogwarts, or knowing that she was sitting right there, right in front of you, not being willing to say or do anything about it.
Henry and Lydia gave me some days to rest when I came home from one om the most traumatizing years at Hogwarts I've ever had. I know it sounds selfish, because since I've started Hogwarts a lot of dangerous and traumatizing stuff had happed. Like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named living in the back of our defense agents the dark arts teacher's head. Then the chamber of secrets opened, and a giant basilisk was trying to kill all muggles at the castle, and luckily it didn't have any lock killing any. But these times I've never been in real danger.
After all Hogwarts is a school for little witches and wizards. But also, a school there had been there for centuries and hides a lot of secrets. Something like that is maybe not expected, but everything is possible.
After some days of resting, the day finally came. Professor Dumbledor and Professor McGonagall even paid a visit. We all sat down in the living room, with tea and scones. Lydia had made her homemade clotted cream and raspberry jam– with the berries she was growing in our little green house. Lydia loved her plants. She gave me real Hufflepuff vibes. But she was sorted into Ravenclaw back then.
"Take a seat, Ill fix you some tea" Lydia said to Dumbledor and McGonagall. They each picked the armchairs we had placed on each side of the coffee table, facing the sofa. Witch put me between Lydia and Henry on the sofa. Now I felt pressure.
McGonagall looked concerned, but Dumbledore just looked hungry at the scones.
"Maybe we should just get started for Rebecca's sake" McGonagall said concerned, looking at Professor Dumbledore to get his attention. Dumbledore slowly looked away from the scones and started focusing on looking at me. It was a soft glance as Dumbledore usually gave. "Very well miss Clark, or would you now prefer Lupin" Professor Dumbledor asked kindly. I smiled back at him. Dumbledor was such an odd man. And I admired him for that. "I still prefer Clark Professor. I don't identify with Lupin. Thank you for asking" I said polite. Both professor Dumbledor and Professor McGonagall smiled at me. "Very well miss Clark. Due to the events of the end of last school year, I have been informed and willingly wants to talk to you about the happenings and help you how to get by with the things you have witnessed. Rebecca Clark has been up against the mass murderer Sirius Black" As Dumbledor finished, he smiled and winked to me. I winked back. We both knew that Sirius was incident, but Dumbledore, Harry, Hermine, Ron, Mr. Lupin and I had decided not to tell our families about Sirius just yet. "Due to that event, miss Clark is required at my office once a month to have a meeting at my office with her house Teacher Professor McGonagall" Dumbledore ended. "But can we talk about what happened. We have given Rebecca some time to heal, before, I mean. I don't want to pressure her. But we need to know what has been going on to help her. Right professor" Lydia asked while pouring McGonagall a cup of tea. "Rebecca will speak when she is ready, it is for the best" Professor McGonagall said carefully. It was for the best. She was absolutely right, but I really wanted to get it off my chest sooner than later, so I could carry on with my life. Everyone around me agreed. "Professor I am ready to tell my story" I said convincing and started to tell Lydia, Henry, Dumbledore and McGonagall what had happened.
Lydia and Henry listened closely and carefully to what I had to tell about the events of that night. "I was on my way down to Hagrid, he had some ingredients I needed for a potion I was making with Fred, Lee and George" I explained as McGonagall and Lydia gave me a strict look, but I had promised Dumbledor to tell the truth. "When I saw...". A knot suddenly tired up my stomach. I hadn't expected it to happen this soon. This was where I learned that I had never been in any danger. The only person who had put me in a dangerous situation that night, was Remus. "When I saw Harry and Hermione ran after a black dog, the grim I presumed. I had to get help. I remembered that I had just passed processor Lupin just before I went over the wooden bridge, so I ran back to find him. Luckily, he hadn't gotten that far. So, as I reached him, I let him know what I had witnessed" I paused. "And did professor Lupin tell you to follow him" McGonagall asked surely. I had hoped that she hadn't asked that question, because I didn't really want to answer it. "No, professor, he asked me to get back to my dorm immediately. But I followed Professor Lupin anyway" I answered with a heavy breath. This was not the point of it, I was there no matter what Remus had told me to do.
Dumbledor was smearing some clotted crème onto a scone, topping it with a teaspoon full of jam. "So, you followed him anyway" McGonagall asked wondering. I scratched my cheek, trying to find a good explanation. But nothing came to me. Why did I even run after him? Like I was going to safe the whole day. Maybe that was the reason I made it into Gryffindor. "I don't know Professor, I wanted to help. Ever since I Remus, sorry, Professor Lupin started teaching, I had felt some kind of urge to... I don't even know what it was. First, I thought it was a crush, like the innocent crush you have on a teacher. But it was something ells. Like a feeling that he needed me to come with him. I don't know, it's silly and I'm sorry for putting myself in danger" I ended. "So, what happed when you and Professor Lupin entered the shrinking shack" Dumbledore asked like it was the juicy part now. "I walked behind Remus the whole time. I wasn't in any danger. I had my wand, and I'm good with spells. The first person I saw was Sirius and then I saw Harry, Ron and Hermione. Then it got to me. Remus and Sirius were old friends. And I was going to die. All of us was going to die. But somehow Snape and Remus helped us out of there, and we got out safe. Then the light of the full moon hit Remus and he attacked me. After that I woke up in the hospital wing and apparently, I have Veela blood in my veins, luckily for that otherwise I would be a werewolf by now" I ended with a fake smile. "And then there was your dream" Dumbledor asked politely. "The one you came you came to my office to discuss" he added. This was the part I wasn't ready to talk about. The knot in my stomach tightened even more. I let out a small grunt to let Dumbledore know that he could continue. "It is an unlocked memory. One that I cannot tell you more about. One you must figure out yourself. I hope you can understand" Dumbledore ended.
The the room was left heavy and quiet.
"Rebecca Just a simple question. Would you like to remain living with your guardians or would you like to contact Lupin to find a way and live with him" Dumbledor asked and then reached for a scone. "I would like to continue living here Professor, if that's ok. This is my home" I said with confidence, even though I really wanted to get to know Remus. "Good, just as we expected. Now I just need to inform the tree of you about something really serious and you cannot speak of this afterwards. This is going to be between the five of us, and when the time comes, we do as we discussed today" Dumbledor started. The atmospheria in the living room chanced immediately to something dark and could. Even though I thought that my story was dark, this was something ells. "We have a hint that Him-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is planning his return" Professor McGonagall said rather serious. I looked at Lydia and her face turned bright white. She looked like she was about to cry, scream and through up at the same time. Lydia then ran her fingers through her hair. Henry was looking at her, but suddenly he jumped up. "Wait, he is supposed to be dead. How can he plan his return, if he is dead" Henry yelled. McGonagall got up of her chair too and placed a calming hand on Henrys shoulder. Henry always seemed so stupid when it came to the magic world, but now it just seemed like he knew everything about it. He was even more upset than I have thought he would be. "There is no easy way to inform you this, so it's best if you just listen to what we have to offer" McGonagall said calmly. "Lydia and Rebecca would be in grave danger; I cannot protect them here alone" Henry said shockingly. Lydia said nothing, she just took Henrys hand to calm him down. He then sat back down on the sofa again. "If this is going to happen, I want Rebecca to move in with Remus, for her own protection. And for the two of you, we have a hide out for you in Scotland. But Rebecca can't come. She will attract danger. Understood" Dumbledor said firmly and all of us knotted. "And you are not to speak of this again, before the time comes. Agree" Dumbledor continued. Lydia got up and cleared the table. "Thank you for the lovely scones, Lydia, it was a pleasure to see you again Henry, and I'll see you soon miss Clark".
As I walked back upstairs to my room, started to remember the good things about my fourth school year. It was also awesome to be a witch, after all. But what now, what was I supposed to do now? All the fun always came with Fred, Geroge and Lee. The gossiping with Katie. The sneaking to the kitchen for a late-night snack with Comac. And the butterflies whenever Cedric Diggory brushed his hand threw his hair and smiled at me.
I smiled with the thought of that. I sat down on my bed to daydream even more. But that was soon interrupted by some noise coming from the street, so I went by the window to see what was going on. Some family was moving in on the other side of the street. But I couldn't care less. I was impatient to get back to Hogwarts and the first week of summer wasn't even over. But then someone caught my eye. It was the soon to be 6th year student, a Slytherin stud. Adrian Pucey. He was one of the chasers on the Slytherins quidditch team. He knocked me off my broom last year at my first match. Asshole. He reminded me of someone. Not really but there was something about his dimwitted smirk and somehow misunderstood person.
The first person I saw in the room at the Shrieking Shack, was... Sirius Black. I wanted to cry. He was a wanted murderer, and we were just four kids trying to survive. In a heroic but stupid decision, I pointed my wand at him, while I slowly and carefully followed Professor Lupin into the room. "Leave Harry alone" I said with a shaky voice. I really wanted not to sound scared, but I couldn't help it. He just laughed. Something was wrong with Rons leg. I hurried over to him, to take a look, maybe it was something I could heal. "If you are going to kill Harry, you have to kill us too" Hermione said. Her voice broke. We all thought that we were going to die. "No. only one will die tonight," Sirius Black said with a sore throat. I looked back over my shoulder, to see that Sirius was pointing a wand towards Ron and me. I was too scared to scream.
Read the next parts on my Wattpad
https://www.wattpad.com/1389489880-magical-diary-please-read
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