I am an artist; my muses of course being any figure from 1899.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā ā.šĖ ŻĖ As I write this, my academics are currently concentrated on the humanities, particularly religious philosophy, which I hope to utilise to study theology further on
I am english born and unfortunately a city dweller :,(Ā
I have a deep love and affection for this era, but my main heart lies within the Dumbledore family and my beloved Ariana !.š„ Ż Ė
(Whilst small and not amounting to be large fixations themselves, I also adore christian theology and stokerās dracula)
ā¤·I've recently made an art side blog as an opportunity for me to post more in-depth processes of my art, WIPS, doodles, animations and projects I'm working on! @youthful-but-blue
Ū¶ą§ Ariana Dumbledore head cannons (illness-specific)
-> I've had these written down for such a long time and are specifically potential scenarios catered around Ariana's physical decline and the potential physical and mental illnesses she might have suffered, decided to finally share <3
āø suffers opioid-use disorder,
she first encountered the opioid, opium, in its form of laudanum through her mother, Kendra. Through advertisements of the period [1890s], she assumed that the substance would be a less suspicious and easily accessible muggle sleeping agent for her daughter rather than purchasing or brewing a wizardās sleeping draught.Ā
After Kendraās death, Arianaās intake of laudanum increased per her request with the hope to tackle frequent sleepless nights.
Her continuous intake of the opioid unknowingly worsened her mental state, resulting in more frequent outbursts.Ā
Side effects;Ā ā³ psychological dependence, severe loss of appetite, tolerance, restlessness through prolonged withdrawal and heightened depressive behaviour.
āø chronic fatigue syndrome, as a result of Arianaās reliance on laudanum and also the psychological strain that perpetuated her suffering; resulting in irregular sleep patterns and at times, cognitive exhaustion. [Evidence link to opioid use and sleep disturbances]
These symptoms only encouraged her use of the opioid in hopes to suppress them, resulting in a cyclical cycle of dependency.
Further exacerbated her family's concerns as she struggled to commit to activities that required her to be more active than what she could manage without feeling incredibly exhausted.
Symptoms;ā³ incessant fatigue particularly after laborious activities, insomnia, hypersomnia and lack of physical energy.
āø Post traumatic stress disorder, this first developed within Ariana following the events of the attack. heightening her obscurus. Her suppression of her magical abilities and as a result, her distress when confronted with the trigger of magic, all relate into the disorder.
Following Kendraās death, Arianaās PTSD grew only to be worse, exacerbating her symptoms and amplifying her avoidance towards her magical ability and magic as a whole.
Hey do you mind uh, not talking about conjuring an army of inferi once we find the resurrection stone? Itās kinda morally wrong and makes it difficult for me to convince myself youāre not a bad person! Thanks :)
There was a lull of quietude, a corrosive lapse that eroded the jubilance of the hour as Albusā expression hardened; a brimming realisation that contorted his features as he faced the blonde boy again.
āIs there something youāre not telling me, Gellert?ā
Artwork of a young Albus Dumbledore.
This piece is actually meant to be a part of a wider project Iām working on, but I wanted to post it here nonetheless (Because I donāt think I have the motivation to complete the entire project.)
An extract written by me on the premise of my interpretation of the past of Kendra Dumbledore.
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Three mornings had overturned since Kendra escaped the confines of the school carriage, allowing herself to find consolation within the feelings of nostalgia that striked her as she stepped foot upon the lustreless pastures of Mashpee, her quaint town.Ā
Three mornings that was, since she walked a meter, and another before embracing the easing demeanour of her mother, so startlingly overthrown in a woeful vigour that Kendra had to enquire, āMama, are you well?ā
Three mornings that gouged her with cruelty and nausea since her Motherās response sounded in her ears,Ā
āYour father is dead.ā
It had all played out with such vigour that Kendra could have been certain that it was only the manners of a jest, if not for the muses of compassion from her people and the startling realisation that her father was not here, there or anywhere. But could she be criticised for erasing such a tragedy? After all, she was not present at the calamity; the disastrous tribulation that had been concluded by her fatherās unfair death from which three months had since passed, but for Kendra, only three mornings.Ā
And what had she been doing back then?Ā
Perhaps, Kendra mused to herself, she had been consumed by the jests of her friends or concealed within a classroom; flourishing her wand to transfigure a toad or writing lines on parchment about pukwudgies, (that she could have sworn her mother told her of once) all whilst her father bled to his death.
These torturous thoughts are what consume her as the the moon lingers above in the wake of the midsummer night, sown between the swathes of cosmos and stars whilst threads of silver moonlight entangle themselves within the foliage of the reservation. Perhaps, to any other they are self-sabotaging ponderings, heightened by her feelings of guilt, grief and gloom. But how could she have known? After all, she had only been given three mornings to mourn the death that everyone else had been given three months to confront.Ā
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You may read the rest here
Please refrain from taking any inspiration from what I've written as a lot of effort and research has been spent on this
Sorry for my prolonged absence, I was planning to take a trip to Greece with my best friend but then his mother suddenly died, requiring him to abandon the trip and leaving me alone. I travelled around Athens, got third-degree burns after encountering a chimaera and I met some really nice alchemists in Egypt! Then, I suddenly got an owl informing me that my best friendās sister had died, so I quickly made my way back over to England to support him with the funeral. And THEN, during the funeral his brother PUNCHED him? So I insisted that I fixed his broken nose for him but he assured me it was fine despite the fact that he is now walking around looking as though heās taken a bludger to the face. Itās all been incredibly hectic, his brother wont talk to me at all and instead keeps casting dirty looks whenever their neighbour mentions this guy named Gilbert, I think?
