#Legacy of Hope and Change

[mehmetyildizmelbourne-blog]

Building a Better World Through Child Sponsorship

I Invite You to Build a Legacy of Hope and Transformation Today I felt immense happiness this weekend, as one of my adult children decided to sponsor a child. He introduced us to the child’s family in Africa, and we tried to connect over WhatsApp.  Though they couldn’t speak English, we waved and communicated through body language, sharing smiles and laughter across the screen.  My…

[dapper-lil-arts]

I'm not the kind of person that's like "Here let me fix the canon" usually but like holy crap gen 5 implied a lot of messed up shit about our hero Twilight Sparkle lmao

[duusheen]

Sterling is back at work now his medical leave is over, so Hope is a little sad not to have her husband home with her—but now she has Pandora, who's a bit more willing to spend more than five minutes with her in the same room. It's progress, I guess 😌

[abigaillazaar]

GET TO KNOW ME MEME: [1/5] SHIPS

HOPE AND LIZZIE Legacies (2018–2022)

[aurorangen]

A career change. It could be a good thing for Robbie. Earlier in the week, Renee messaged him about a new job opening for a forensic scientist company that she is connected to. He has a relevant degree and experience in the medical field from analytical chemistry to toxicology, it all sounded very exciting to him! Robbie mulled over his application, checking he had all the details before finally sending it off.

[myokk]

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

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

Ominis Gaunt has always suspected he is cold-blooded.

It makes sense, really.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He is entirely too introspective, after all.

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

And yet he is. Terribly surprised.

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

Rosalie Harris.

The girl who has stolen his oldest friend from him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ominis?”

Her arms are crossed, he hears an impatient huff.

Why hasn’t she left him alone yet?

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

Ominis’s winter has just gotten infinitely worse.

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

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

And, she does not seem to leave him alone.

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

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

“I was looking for you.”

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

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

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

[lizzies]

LEGACIES | 1.01

[deathbypufferfish]

Marinella decided it was about time for some actual space and ask Ume to move out to her grandmother's. If she refused to divorce amicably she could at least leave. And guess what fucking happened :) At least the nanny is getting a kick out of it.

[jasminesilk]

He's Outta This World! 🪐

Meet our founder for the Occult Legacy Challenge by Asphodel Moon.

After leaving home for the first time, you find yourself living in a small home in StrangerVille. You're not there very long before you start to notice things are particularly strange and the locals are even stranger. At your job at the local lab, you overhear colleagues talking about the town's mystery and the 'other' lab that stands across town. You get sucked into the conspiracy and are determined to figure it all out. On top of that, you're pretty sure you've made contact with aliens. What could possibly go wrong?

More about Marty (he/him) below ⤵

Martin, or Marty as his friends would call him (if he had any), grew up in a very normal family. It's as if his relatives were all trying to make up for the fact that their family name was Odd, literally. But Marty was different - he has always craved something more, something out of this world. From a young age he looked to the stars for a sense of adventure, gazing up at the cosmos from the roof-top of his beautiful but boring childhood home in Brindleton Bay. As soon as he was able to move out of his parent's house, he packed up his belongings and took the first plane to StrangerVille, hoping to get a job as a lab tech at one of the many innovative facilities in the area. So far he's been really enjoying his new life in the desert. The days are hot and the trailer he calls home is tiny, but every night he's able to view the planet Sixam through his telescope, completely unencumbered by the rain clouds he was so used to seeing before.

Marty's full name is Martin Stanley Odd. He loves pop punk, fish tacos, sci-fi, and orange juice. He's bisexual with a romantic preference for aliens women. An introvert with zero social skills, he hopes to one day have his very own man-cave/basement where he can be truly alone with no one to bother him while he reads his sci-fi alien smut books.

[fandoms--fluff]

Y/n death glaring Alyssa: Can I shoot her?

Hope: ...not in public

[tempestaurora]

very weird to hit a milestone follower number these days. i remember back in like 2017 when hitting a milestone follower number meant that a blog would do follow forevers or fic rec lists or special celebratory fandom content like gifs or art or fics. and now we all just. let the numbers pass by and no one ever says what they have or celebrates or anything. which is like, objectively a generally good thing in my opinion just due to how follower counts aren't public and that's a good thing that separates this website from other social medias. but also like. i liked when people celebrated. the posts were sweet. they would list all their friends and make special art and it would always feel very cool, especially as a fic writer myself, to watch a number get higher and go, that's how many people are following me just to read my writing. that's soo cool. anyway.

[plumdale]

semi-blind date #1 with aiden by @bakersimmer !

the date went well for the most part… until the end when they both got tense for whatever reason. despite that, there remains an interest!

[duusheen]

Sterling is rolling on the floor in tears

@bunnithechubs ily thank you for this beautiful template 😭

[spxnglr]

My then-ten y/o sister set this up on my Google. Five years and a new laptop later and it's still fuckin there.

[myokk]

(sebastian was interrupted in the middle of a good book)

[lizzies]