luminousnectar
luminousnectar
4 posts
a teenage writer obsessed with bojack horseman, pinterest, and zelda.
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luminousnectar · 2 years ago
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child of liberty - chapter one
Jeannette’s boots tapped lightly against the old wood as she made her way across the deck of the ship. The new dawn had brought news that their journey was coming to an end. Out across the waters, that statement rang true. New York Harbor, in all its glory, stood before their ship. She drew in a sharp breath. Her father had spent the past five years of his life aiding the Americans in freeing themselves from the hand of the British, and she was finally going to see the rewards of that work.
��There it is.” Monsieur Thomas closed his eyes as he inhaled through his nose. She mimicked him, allowing the salty air to fill her lungs. “Home sweet home. My beautiful nation. Jeannette, darlin’, you are going to love it here.”
“I must admit, Monsieur Thomas, that most of my excitement about the new country comes from the fact that my father is here,” she said with a little laugh. The breeze snagged some curls from her ponytail, obscuring her view of the harbor. They were close enough now that the echoes of a busy city reached her ears. Men were shouting back and forth, almost drowned out by the waves crashing against the sides of the ships. 
“I do not blame you, Miss Jeannette. I’m excited to see him as well, along with my old friend, James Madison.” Monsieur Thomas had hardly finished speaking before Captain McCalla stole his attention away, surely with information about their porting. Jeannette brushed by him cautiously, and made her way back down to her cabin in the hull of the ship. She was lucky enough to get a room all to herself, as small as it was.
Her stomach lurched as she watched herself in the mirror. For the past five years, the only glimpses of her father had been in the mirror. She had been told again and again that she was the Marquis made over- her thick eyebrows and dark eyes, the long curls falling around her face- they were all him. If she squinted enough, she could imagine her father as she remembered him, with his hair drawn up in a bun and a scruff of beard covering his chin. She touched the mirror, and the illusion was immediately broken. 
“Oh, Père, I pray you are proud of me, even after all this time.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and anxiously adjusted the white cravat tied around her neck. Being proud of her- she hoped he would even recognize her! In the time he was gone, she had turned from an annoying child to someone more adult, more grown up. She had traded the frilly gowns of a little girl for coats and breeches, much to the dismay of the ladies her father used to associate with.
“Docking in New York Harbor!” A man shouted from above, a chorus of bells accompanying his voice. She tucked her lower lip under her teeth, the excitement and anxiety mixing in her stomach. 
“Are you ready to see America?” She turned at the sound of Monsieur Thomas’s voice. He held a gloved hand out to her.
She slipped her hand in his. “Oui.”
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luminousnectar · 2 years ago
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"omg peggy is such an underrated character!!!"
peggy has three lines and two of them are "and peggy".
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luminousnectar · 2 years ago
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luminousnectar · 2 years ago
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dragonhearted - chapter one
I flip the cards in my hands, humming softly to myself. Smoke billows freely from my stick of incense, filling my room with the earthy scent of patchouli. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon have long since gone to sleep, allowing me a brief moment to myself, and my work.  
I shuffle the cards, then split the deck. I draw one out, then repeat. Shuffle, split, draw. Shuffle, split, draw. I set my deck aside and set my cards in front of me, face down. I gaze at them, shifting the one on the left into the center.
There. That feels right.
I just need a reading today. Time to think of myself, if only for a second. Time to reflect. I flip over the first card, the one today representing my past.
An upside-down High Priestess. 
I suck in a breath through my teeth, keeping my eyes trained on the forlorn woman gazing up at me. She blinks, very slowly, before picking up her scroll and turning away from me.
An upside-down High Priestess represents hidden things- secrets. Sometimes what others keep from you, sometimes what you keep from yourself. Even with all I’ve learned about myself and my life, the cards still speak to secrets in my past, tucked in the deep recesses of my mind. 
I turn my attention to the middle card, flipping it over carefully. An upright Wheel of Fortune sits right in the middle of the card. I can’t help but smile. Change. The Wheel of Fortune speaks to change.
My door creaks open behind me, and I turn. My brother stands in the doorway, his hair disheveled and his eyes alight.
“Gather your things quickly, Jaylene,” he says in a hushed voice. “Mad-Eye’s here.”
*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*
My hair tangles in the cool night air as we soar through the streets. My knees grip tightly to my broom, Harry’s old Nimbus2000. Despite Quidditch being his sport of choice, I’ve flown up in the air no more than four times. I prefer my two feet planted firmly on the ground.
“This way!” Mad-Eye calls to the group. He guides us lower to the ground, landing us in front of a Muggle neighborhood. I settle my bag onto the ground and tug my backpack a little bit closer to me, watching as Mad-Eye approaches the buildings. The few people around me chuckle to themselves. 
“What’s he doing?” Harry mumbles.
With a flick of his wrist, the buildings in front of us shutter before coming to life. Slowly, they scrape against the Earth, separating as if he were Moses and they were his sea. Mad-Eye turns to us, a slight smirk on his face. “Fidelius Charm.”
We follow the group into the newly formed building, and as I enter I feel the world shift beneath my feet as I disappear once again. To the outside world, I am one hundred percent hidden. And I could never be happier.
“Come with me, Jaylene,” Mad-Eye says gruffly. Harry and I stare at each other as I’m ushered away, and I can’t help but feel guilty as I leave my brother all alone.
A dining room is what I’m sent into, and I can’t help but think of how cozy it feels. Wooden chairs line an oval table. Wallpaper is faded on the walls, and dotted with pictures. And sitting at the head of that table is none other than my dear godfather, Sirius Black.
My things are forgotten immediately as I rush into his embrace. He is everything familiar, everything I have missed, everything I have wanted when trapped in that house with Petunia and Vernon. He is hope lit upon cigarettes, piles of sugar honeying his words. He cups my head in his hand, and all of the sudden, I feel like crying. 
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper.
“Oh, my Dragon,” he hums, “I’ve missed you too.”
I hold onto him, perhaps a second too long, before I allow my hand to fall and I step back from his arms. He pulls a seat out for me, and sits himself. His warm small falls, and he clears his throat. “Jaylene,” he says, very slowly. He deliberates over his words, his eyes focused not on me but a small wooden knot in the table. “I’m sure you’re very curious as to why you’ve been brought here, and I know you have many questions.”
I laugh weakly. “It’s not very often that I’m taken to the streets in the middle of the night and taken to a strange house.”
“We…” He motions to the building around him. “I- I am a member of what is left of the Order of the Phoenix.”
“Order of the Phoenix,” I repeat, the words rolling off my tongue with a sweet satisfying taste.
“And the purpose of the Order- our main goal is to take down Voldemort.”
Oh. I’m in shock, but as it runs through my mind, it makes more and more sense. Of course he- and people just like him- are willing to lay everything on the line to fight the worst evil of our generation. I smile, just a tiny bit. For the first time, I’m being told about something first? My brother, a historical enemy of Voldemort, is always everyone's first pick. But here and now, I’m being chosen first.
If I were a more vain girl, I’d feel a sick sort of satisfaction. But I cannot, because the weight of Sirius’s words are heavy on me. “Are you sure? You do realize that Harry would be much more help to you than I-”
“No Jaylene.” Sirius places his hand over me. “We need you to do this. And it won’t be easy. It’ll, truly, be horrible. But I believe in you. I believe you can do it.”
My eyebrows draw together, and something, deep in my mind, whispers that something is horribly wrong. “What do you want me to do exactly?”
Sirius runs his hands over his face, sighing. “Being a Slytherin, you often come in close contact with Draco Malfoy, correct?”
My heart jumps.
Draco Malfoy. My brother’s school nemesis. Angry with his friends, his family, the world. I’m hardly a blip in his friend group, but in all my interactions with him I’ve seen who he truly is. A broken, scarred boy stuck in the body of a man. 
He is pitiful. And I cry for him for it. 
“Yes, I don’t know if he would consider me a friend but I’m often floating around his friend group,” I tell Sirius.
“We- if you’re willing, of course- would like to ask you to be a double agent for us,” Sirius says. “We don’t know entirely what it would entail now. You could- if you got close enough to Draco, there’s a possibility you could be cursed with that blasted Mark.”
The world begins to spin in front of my eyes. “The Mark? Sirius, that’s-”
“Sirius Black!” Mrs. Weasley bustles into the room, a scowl on her face. “She’s just a little girl. She doesn’t need to be hearing about this, and she most certainly doesn’t need to be involved! Especially like that, you know Severus already…” She storms off, muttering under her breath.
Sirius turns back to me. “It’s your choice, Dragon. But you would be helping tremendously if you could even grow close to the Malfoy boy.”
I rise to my feet. I need to think. I need a moment, a moment, all I asked for mere hours ago when I was working with my cards. “I’ll be back later,” I tell him, picking up my things and heading towards the kitchen door.
“Take your time,” he calls after me. “And don’t rush a decision. We can’t have you hurt over a decision not deliberated.”
I drag my things through the house. I weave through people both familiar and not. I’m offered small smiles and timid greetings, but the look on my face surely wards people off from trying to speak to me any further. At the top of the staircase, I’m greeted with an extensive hallway, doors lining each side.
Great.
I glance in one, and see an absolute mess of a room. Shorts are flung onto the floor, bedsheets are bunched up at the very end. Despite the lack of signs, I know immediately that Fred and George must be staying there. I walk past with a small smile. That’s the twins I know.
Hoo, hoo.
I look towards the end of the hallway, where a door hangs open. I hear it again- a soft coo echoes through the hall. I would know that sound anywhere. I bolt down the hall and, sitting in the open window of the room at the end of the hall, is none other than my owl, Johannas.
“Oh goodness, fella, how did you find me?” I set my things down on the small bed, a layer of dust flying into the air. I turn on the kerosene lamp, the small flame flickering to life in the dark room. It illuminates the silky black feathers of my owl. His round amber eyes focus on me, and he tilts his head slightly to the side.
“Hedwig just arrived as well,” Harry says softly. I turn to my brother, forcing a small smile just for him. “I’m glad they were able to find us,” he continues, rubbing the spot of his arm right below where his sleeve ends. 
“Did they tell you why we’re here?” I ask, curious as to if he was given a task, just like I was.
“I’m the reason we’re here, Jay.” Harry takes a seat on my bed, wincing as it creaks underneath his weight. “I have to go to the Ministry. I used magic the other day-”
“Oh, Harry.” “Yes, I know.” He huffs. “There were Dementors. I had to do something or I was going to die.”
I suck in a breath. All this, happening under the same roof I lived in day after day, and I had no idea. A pain of guilt hits my stomach. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I had no idea,” I say quietly.
Harry shakes his head, running his fingers through his mop of black hair. “It’s okay. A lot has been going on recently. I don’t expect you to keep up with everything.”
His words do little to erase my guilt. I sit down beside him and wrap my arms around my stomach, and give a little squeeze. Through my guilt, though, I do realize one thing; he wasn’t brought here to help out the Order of the Phoenix. He wasn’t given a secret mission.
That “honor” lies only with me
↠ ↠ chapter two
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