#Percy you small child you were given so much at such a young age

[scribesynnox]

Rereading the Percy Jackson series and holy shit, these are kids. Like, these are 11 and 12 year olds just… running around. Getting their lives threatened. Saving the world. Holy shit, who let this happen, THAT IS A WHOLE ASS CHILD.

[writingmochi]

chapter ii. chiaroscuro

cast: grunge kid!yeonjun ✗ art student/painter!fem.reader

synopsis: you’re an out-of-place art student living in your childhood hometown, pursuing your dream of becoming a painter. one day, you were given a mysterious responsibility as you try to not get your childhood best friend killed

genre: coming of age, college/university au, childhood best friend au, supernatural au, angst, fluff, mature content (sensitive topics and eventual smut)

based on: video game life is strange (2013)

word count: 6778

taglist? closed

warning(s): mention of drugs, dead animal, blood, traffic accidents, minor character death with significant repercussion (if i forgot some, let me know)

message from the moon: remember that this story is fiction. do be careful and read the warnings at the top as both the chapter and the series as a whole will contain serious and sensitive topics. thank you very much for the love that you’ve given to the first chapter and the series! hope you enjoy chapter ii and have a good read :D

masterlist

strolling the downtown area and having small talks with the boy beside you makes your mind and soul flutter. you haven't explored the downtown area much and see how it has transformed between the past years and now. with most of the free time you have, you use it to hang out on-campus or around its grounds, do projects in your room, eat food at the mini-market, or grab a coffee with minjeong at one of the cafes that the students go to.

maybe that's why you haven't seen yeonjun around…

the area doesn't look like it change much from your memory, all of the buildings still look fairly the same with only a few renovations. but, after a closer look from you, it did change. a few of the places that you visited when you were a child isn't there anymore.

you recognize a building that used to be a bookstore and a small library, the place that you and yeonjun used to frequently visit to read books. you remembered slouching against the shelf together reading about what happened to percy jackson until 16:00 when your mom pick you up because she and yeonjun's mom were worried that you two haven’t arrived home. well, that place is now a two-story italian restaurant with the chimney of the pizza oven protruding from the first floor, complete with the signature red, white, and green color palette. a similar situation also landed the ice cream parlor you and your family used to eat at. yeonjun said that they moved somewhere else but still opened for business.

that is until you saw a familiar building that triggers your nostalgia. so vintage yet still able to maintain its aesthetic for all these years. yeonjun walks in front of you as he pushes the empty american-style diner’s glass door. the chiming bell on top of the door alerting the old woman behind the counter.

"yeonjun, welcome."

yeonjun nodding his head. "the usual lunch and make it two." tilting his head, gesturing to you behind him. the woman looks at you with wide eyes.

"oh my god..."

she went out from the other side of the counter to then hug you. you stood there, confusion still roaming your brain. she realized that you didn't reciprocate.

"you don't remember me, do you?" you looked at her after she pulled back, tilting your head. "miss ahn? the one that always serves you donuts when you came back from school with yeonjun?"

"let's go (y/n)!" the boy in front of you with the shiny blue backpack and missing right sock screamed. you’re holding the straps of your purple backpack and walk behind him slowly, dragging your feet against the concrete because you didn't put your shoes on properly.

the bell chimed as yeonjun pushed the glass door. "miss ahn, two strawberry donuts please!"

miss ahn stops what she was doing as she chuckled to see yeonjun enthusiastically ordered. you, on the other hand, were slowly raising your foot on the steps one at a time, feeling your shoe dangles as you move.

"right away, young man." miss ahn said after she served a man his coffee. you sit on the available stool with yeonjun beside you, taking his hot wheels wallet out and pulling out some money.

"wait, i'm going to pay for my donut myself." you also open your front pouch.

"no! i'll pay." he pouts.

you looked at him in defeat, knowing that he will retaliate again and again if you still insist. "fine." you let your legs dangle from your seated figure and straighten your uniform skirt.

"two strawberry donuts for the lovely kids," she exclaimed as she puts the plate down. miss ahn then picks up the money that is in front of yeonjun and you both said thank you in unison.

"jinx." you blurted.

he groaned and immediately munch the donut in front of him. you giggled beside him and start to eat the pink donut in front of you. you savor the sweetness and the hint of sourness of it while moving your feet back and forth unconsciously. but then, you felt that one of them becomes lighter. you look down and around for the missing shoe to see it sit beneath yeonjun's stool.

"pssst!"

no reply.

"hey." yeonjun glances at you, his cheek full.

"can you help me grab my shoe? it's underneath you."

yeonjun, still munching his last piece of donut, scrunches his eyebrows at you and tilts his head. you rolled your eyes.

"please, yeonjun?"

he swallows his food and reaches for the shoe to give it back to you. "you're welcome." he smirks while you rolled your eyes again. he then asked after you finish putting on your shoe. "why aren't you using your shoes properly, anyway?"

"because you dragged me out of the classroom when i'm still putting it on." you wrapped your arm against your chest.

"hurry up then!" he muffled while wiping his lips with a napkin.

"says the boy with a missing right sock." you chuckled, staring underneath him. he, looking confused, follows your eye line to his foot and tilts his head.

"oh..." you both laugh. miss ahn feeling giddy seeing the wholesome scene unfolds while wiping a cup.

"oh yeah! yeah, i do! how are you, miss ahn?" the memory of your youth flooding back as you felt her warm hold on your shoulder.

"oh well same old, same old. i’m always doing great." miss ahn nods to you. the salt and pepper showing in her hair and the wrinkles on the corner of her eyes and mouth creases as she smiles. she excused herself back to her station to make the orders as you sit opposite yeonjun in a booth.

"so..." he spoke.

"so..." you replied.

he leans forward and punches your upper arm lightly. "hey!" you pouted, holding it pretending to be hurt.

"why didn't you tell me you're here?!" he asked so loudly the sound resonate on the walls. you’re glad that there is no other customer other than you two.

"well, i didn't see you at all until today." you replied as you put your bag beside you. "and, and i didn't see any familiar faces enrolling in the institute. so i just put two and two together and thought that you live in another town now." you put your arms on the table, interlocking the fingers.

"touché." he replied as he also puts away his stuff to the table, rearranging his phone, wallet, cigarette box, lighter, and keys. you continue fidgeting your fingers as the silence consumes you both. seeing the multiple vehicles rolling on the street from the large window beside you.

"how have you been?" you look back at him as you questioned.

he did a big sigh while staring around the diner. "good, how about you?" his eyes landed on your face.

you thought about what happened today. you got a vision about a blizzard obliterating haeyang. you gained an unexplained ability to rewind yourself to a near past and live through the same moments again. you just saved your childhood best friend from being stabbed.

"good too. i guess." you replied while looking at the surface of the table, the corner of your mouth lifts up slightly.

"is it because that you meet me or?" he taunts.

"well, one of them.”

you heard someone clearing their throat and found miss ahn with two plates in her hand. "your order." she looks at both of you with a grin as she placed the plates of burger and chicken wings in front of you both. "the drinks aren't finished yet and i’m also making some donuts so don't leave before they're finished." she remarked, wiggling her fingers to you both.

"yeah, we're not." yeonjun looked at you surprised as you replied. "i mean, we have so many things to catch up so we're going to take our time," you said as you looked back at him. feeling a warm aura, the aura that you haven't tapped into for a long time.

she nods and turns away from your table. you heard your stomach rumbling as you look at yeonjun who quickly grabbed his burger and took a bite of it. he is still the same in that aspect.

you chuckled and follow suit. yeonjun then asked, "you're studying in the institute, what major?"

"fine arts, how about you?" you looked at him anticipatingly.

"well, i actually don't enroll there." your eyes widen.

"i don't go to college." yeonjun answered.

"oh..." you quickly eat a piece of wing. you saw him tilt his head.

"what did you expect?" he questioned. you wiped your mouth with a napkin, erasing the sauce smudge away from your lips.

"well... i thought you’re enrolled there because you looked like you're familiar with the campus grounds." you licked your lips and sipped the drink that miss ahn gave just a few seconds ago. never have you thought that yeonjun will not go to college. he knows the institute pretty well for someone not studying in it, specifically that alley.

"most of my 'friends' goes there." he put up an air quote while speaking 'friends', making you question who minhyuk is to him now.

"so… what do you and your 'friends' do?" you follow his air quote as he smiles at you behind the glass that he picked up.

"well they provide me with entertainments like weed and booze, but i’m not with them. they're just nosy as fuck and trying to get their noses under everything." he rolled his eyes and wrinkle his nose. he is not friends with minhyuk and minhyuk’s crowd. noted.

yet, something doesn’t feel right.

"why's that?" you blurted out. the yeonjun that you knew back then used to have so many friends outside of your friendship. because of him, you start to know your other childhood friends. the ones that you suspect have left the town to go to someplace better for them. the ones that make you conclude that none of your childhood friends are attending the institute, including yeonjun.

"i don't want to have any intimate connections anymore with anyone, really. well, other than you of course since you’re here now." yeonjun answered then roll his tongue on his bottom lip before pushing it inside his cheek. "i felt like an outcast and so i just said 'fuck it, let's be one.'" he continued.

the fluttering that stops before rive up again when you heard what he said. first time talking after a decade and he already wants to rekindle your friendship. it makes you realize how much you have craved for more connections to your past, the place where you currently reside hasn't fulfilled that completely. but after hearing what he say, one thing came to your mind.

this yeonjun is different. even with some of his habits that you know that he might still possess.

he might not be the same boy you know.

coming from the same early upbringing but diverge to separate ways.

you resume eating when yeonjun spoke. "how about you? what have you been up to? i already did my saying so let's talk about you." yeonjun pushed his empty plate near the edge and finish drinking the milkshake from his half-full glass.

"well, not much really. i went back here and study here. i don't have any other friend in the institute besides the girl whose dorm is across mine and i paint, yeah." you summarize your ordinary campus life in one sentence, realizing how uneventful it is.

until today.

"honestly, i always thought that you're gonna become an artist in some way back then. you love to draw stuff in my room." you chuckled after hearing what he said. "i still have some of them tucked away in my closet."

yeonjun used to have so many coloring books that his mother bought but he got bored easily so when you came to his house and he played on his nintendo ds, you complete his coloring book instead and maybe doodle in it too. yeonjun usually asks you about why you colored with a certain hue for a certain outline or what your doodles meant. it's good to know that he still kept his childhood stuff.

"how's the city?" he suddenly asked. you gulped the last piece of the burger while thinking.

the city was both your somewhat new, optimistic start and the starting of your so-called demise. when you stayed there for your teen years, you got the realization that you don't belong there. even though you had some friends that you hang out with, you don't feel a strong connection with them. your mind still wanders to the smell of the ocean back in haeyang. those feelings of loneliness made you take painting as a hobby. the sea has always fascinated you since you're a child. how it is both calming and chaotic at the same, becoming one of your muses.

flowers also become one of your favorites after you learned their different kinds of meanings after a brief mention in class made you buy a book about them. you then learn to paint them and both of your favorite things now become your signature style that is known by people.

"i don’t… know how to describe it in a sentence," you replied. "i don't feel any strong connection with the people there. but while i'm there, i realize that living in haeyang is my true calling. i also got my love of painting there." you put your empty plate on top of his.

yeonjun nods and said, "we're just a bunch of outcasts, are we?" you chuckle after hearing what he said.

thinking about what happened in the city, why your adaptation to the new environment never is 100% optimized, you felt the loneliness. how you don't feel connected to your friends because their interests are much different than yours, and probably how you were raised as well. the city so full yet you fill empty. because of that, you embrace the term 'outcast'. not knowing that kilometers away from each other, your best friend uses the same term to describe himself.

"yes, we are," you answered.

in your eyes, you are one. and you embrace it until now. even though you have minjeong now beside you, she also considers herself an outcast, villainized by her fellow violinist. yet, the sense of being an outsider makes you appreciate life because drama doesn't revolve around you. you hate being in the spotlight, and instead, gain comfort from being at the back of the curtains.

an eye for an eye. a horrible social life for a better life filled with no obstacles.

you both then exchange each other's number, see a notification on your screen with the name 'your best boy, yeonjun', making him smirk as you look at it with a flush on your cheeks.

a few more talks and two strawberry donuts later, you pulled out your wallet when yeonjun stopped you, saying that he'll pay. "i have owed you so much back then. let me pay, okay?" you looked at him, he retracts his hand and you replace it with the money from your wallet.

the bell chimes as you both go out of the diner after saying goodbye to miss ahn. you both on the sidewalk walking back to campus. "hey, do you wanna go to my house?" yeonjun quickly said, walking backward while looking at you. going back to yeonjun's house is going to be a trip full of nostalgia. you remembered that you forgot to ask about his family back in the diner. you do want to know how his dad is doing nowadays.

"sure, my first class is gonna start at 11 tomorrow so it'll be fine."

"fuck yeah." yeonjun exclaimed as you both continue to jog. but then, at the edge of the concrete path, you notice a kitten. the kitten is in a stance, preparing to cross the street. yeonjun continues to talk and face you while walking backward, making your ears on him but your eyes on the cat that speeds through the road, not noticing a van from the corner of your eyes and see it went through your point of peripheral. a pool of blood forming on the ground.

the sound of your hissing makes yeonjun's eyes widen and turned him around. "oh fuck, poor kitty." he quickly went to the road with you being on the sidewalk. him not noticing that the light is still green and a speeding cargo truck came from the end of the road. yeonjun tries to pick it up with you seeing the truck as it runs on the road. heading to where yeonjun is.

"yeonjun, watch out!" you raised your hand.

then you felt like you were pulled back and you close your eyes.

-

as you open your eyes, you noticed money and a countertop. a hand drags the money to the palm and counts it. you look to your side to find yeonjun standing on your left and jump lightly as you hear the sound of the cash register.

"oops sorry!" miss ahn quickly said. your grip on your bag tightens.

you just rewind time. again.

"the change, (y/n)." she pushes her hand forward for you to pick it up. at the last iteration, you pick up the change. but now, you quickly blurted out.

"no, keep the change."

you showed a small smile to the woman and heard yeonjun chuckle. "okay then. have a nice day you two. come again!" miss ahn hooted as you both walk out of the diner.

"of course we're coming again. miss ahn!" yeonjun replied, earning a giggle from miss ahn as the bell for the entrance door dings when he pulls.

if you want to save yeonjun, you have to save the kitten first.

you don’t know if this might work or not, but it was what your mom taught you back in the city...

"wait, miss ahn!" you step inside again. miss ahn was in the middle of throwing the trash. "can i keep the chicken remains? it's for stray cats..." you lips on a straight line, hoping that this plan will work.

"of course!" she picked up a few sheets of tissues and place the remains of the wings that you've eaten on it. "you did this in the city, did you?" she questioned as she glances at yeonjun leaning against the open door. you nodded and said your farewells to her. yeonjun, propping the door open, let you out first and use his long legs to take a few strides, making him walk beside you at the same pace.

"let me help find you a stray cat while we walk to campus." yeonjun said as he puts his hand inside the pocket and turns around, walking backward. "and i wanna invite you to my house, you have the time, right?"

"well my first class tomorrow is 11, so i have time." you replied, similarly to the one you said before.

"fuck yeah!" he suddenly turns around and continues walking beside you, remembering that he wants to help with finding the stray cats. the change of events from the diner results in him facing the same way as you. you clench your fingers together as you walk beside him. hoping this will work.

"ooh, found one."

you see his body striding forward and see the same kitten that you saw before near the edge of the sidewalk. as you walk closer, you heard him luring the kitten. it approaches him and you saw him picking it up, resting it on his arms as it looks adoringly at him.

you did it, again.

you slowly looked down at your hands, the hands that possessed the powerful ability you can't imagine ever coming to you, as you heard the voice of someone clearing their throat beside you.

"(y/n)?" you glance up to see yeonjun with the kitten gripping against his t-shirt. "the food?" he tilted his head.

"oh yeah," you replied as you quickly took out the leftover chicken remains, placing them on the concrete whilst yeonjun placed the kitten down, quickly stepping to the laid-out tissue and eating the feast. you then squat down, yeonjun followed, as you look at the kitten enjoying its meal. thinking that it was supposed to be dead before you made another chance.

"i think we should adopt her." you glance at yeonjun as he spoke, seeing his eyes on the small kitten and running his finger on top of the head. "we should give her a name."

looking at the colorful furs of the kitten as she eats her food while looking around, its innocent face and curious eyes staring between the food and you two, you quietly blurted out, "pansy."

not noticing that yeonjun heard as he now look towards you. "that’s cute, it’s a flower name, right? what does it mean?"

“it symbolizes the love or admiration of one person to another. by the looks of it, she is a pretty curious cat and i saw that she was admiring you while you carry her, same as she did towards the food before eating it,” you added as you both stood up.

“nice!” he then fist bumps you, something you have both always done since you were little.

"we're gonna be such great parents."

you glanced at him after the words came into your ear, "we?" you pointed your fingers between the two of you.

"yep, little pan here needs a mother too you know." yeonjun rolls his eyes. you smiled as you heard the nickname when you felt the kitten now rubbing against your legs, you picked her up and propped her against your chest.

"let's get you home." yeonjun said as he patted her head, face nuzzling into your clothes as you hear her purr. you both continue walking to the campus grounds.

as you arrived, you immediately ask, "where's your ride?" while seeing the mostly empty parking lot. yeonjun then guides you by pushing you gently with his hands on either side of your shoulders from behind until you saw a brown-based pickup truck parked at the corner of the lot, almost unseeable as it blends with the color of the lower part of the building beside it.

you stood in front of the truck with its worn-down paint as he goes to the driver’s seat and ignites the car, slowly patting the kitten in your arms so that she won't get shocked by the sound. as the truck came to life, you felt a tight grip on your chest and heard meows coming from pansy. you quickly soothe her by rubbing her head and back.

yeonjun went out and help you open the truck door as you can't do it because of the kitten in your hands. "when did you get this?" you asked after you put pansy down between you and him. the vibration of the truck shakes the seat.

"my dad got this back when i was in high school. i also said to him not to repaint the body cause i just love how unique it is with the imperfections." yeonjun replied as he changes the gearshift, lurching the truck forward and going out of the campus grounds.

you lean yourself against the door, glancing at the town and its nature, both the sea and the hills. feeling the breeze of wind gushing and making your hair float. yeonjun turning on the radio with a pixies song coming from it, glancing at you as he steers the truck down the road.

-

seeing the houses coming from the horizon. you recollect your memories of the way that you used to go to when you want to visit yeonjun at his house and also your way to your old house because it's only a few blocks away. the truck moves to a stop in front of the house that you gladly remember despite the change.

even though the exterior paints are different than the last time that you saw them, you can identify the similarities with the one that popped up in your head. you saw the window on top of the front door, belonging to none other than yeonjun's room. but now it is covered with blinds, not the usual cloth curtain he has back when he was a kid.

"let's let pansy sleep. we're gonna set up a space for her in the backyard later." yeonjun said as he turns off the machine, the rumbling of the truck stopped. both of you went out of the truck and discovered a sedan with its hood open, hearing the clanking of metal tools against other metals. you see a man behind it, sneaking to look at the front to see who arrived.

"hey, big guy!" you heard the roughness in the man's voice, you saw his head peeking behind the hood and saw his eyes widen, landing on you.

"(y/n)?" the man's head now completely visible as he looks at you, yeonjun guiding you forward to stand beside him. the man now stood beside the front of the car, rubbing his hand against his jeans.

he is yeonjun's dad, now years older than what you remembered.

"hi, uncle choi," you replied, smiling warmly. that is how close you are to his parents and him to your parents. both of you treated each other's parents as a part of your own family, which makes both of your family closer too. treating each other more than what parents of two best friends do to each other.

you remember how close your dad and yeonjun's dad were back then. how they usually help each other with cooking the food if there is a dine out at one of your houses and how they talked about cars, especially since yeonjun's dad is a mechanic. they were always exchanging dad jokes that they usually going to give to you both respectively, annoying both of you.

as you look between the father and son pair, you admire how much of the resemblance between them, especially given that both of the men have tattoos painted on their arms. yeonjun's feature wasn't as prominent to his dad back when he was young, even his dad also thought that he looks like his mom more back then. but looking at the changes with the years going by, the pair looks like each other so much that it gives you shivers.

uncle choi now standing beside yeonjun, you notice how yeonjun now is taller than him, he opens his arm to hug you and you accepted, yeonjun grins seeing his dad and his best friend meeting up again.

"how have you been?" uncle choi questioned, his hands now behind him.

"yeah, well..." you curled your shoulders. "i've been good," you replied as you nodded.

"you grew up so well." yeonjun nodded alongside his dad. you thanked uncle choi as he guided you inside the house.

as you took off your sneakers, you glance at the front area, seeing a few recognizable pieces of furniture now placed in a different part of the room. seeing how the living and dining room looks practically the same with a few changes, the most noticeable ones are the nonexistence of family photos.

"i still have some parts left unfinished. make her feel like home." you heard his dad mumble to him and he left back to the garage.

"you want anything to drink?" yeonjun said from behind you.

"water is fine." you replied as you take a look at the first floor, feeling that parts of the house are emptier.

yeonjun guides you upstairs as he brought a glass of water in his hand. opening his room door with his free hand. the distinct smell of cigarettes and ray beams of the sun from the covered window hitting you.

his room now looks mature and in the style of what he wore. collages of band logos, concert brochures, and quotes covering one corner of the room in front of a desk with his laptop. more of the bigger band posters littering across his room, leaving the nude sandy wall open. his wooden closet open with shirts hanging inside and outside of it. clutters on top of his bedside table and cabinets. a shelf full of covered vinyl discs and jewel case cds with both a radio and turntable on it. a tall mirror leaning against the wall with the door to his bathroom beside and his unkempt bed across from it.

the room that you always went to every time you go to his house. back then still very much plain and blend in with the rest of the house. now, it sticks out like a cloud of smoke in a clear sky.

"my room looks different than the last time you saw it," he commented, putting your glass on the desk.

"very." you dropped your bag beside it and yeonjun sat down on his bed, patting the seat beside him to let you sit and drink your water.

"how it looks to you, artsy girl?" you chuckled as yeonjun leans in to whisper.

"very normal, i guess! it suits you though." you peered at him.

yeonjun sighs as he leans his body, laying himself on the bed. "i've worked hard with this. happy that someone appreciates it."

you continue to look around and notice a few pictures of little yeonjun scattered in his room, either him with his mom or his dad, and most are the three of them. a very contrasting difference from the one downstairs.

"how come there are no family photos downstairs?" you covered your mouth after you suddenly blurted. "shoot, i'm sorry. you don't have to answer-"

"nah. i'm fine with it." yeonjun rolled his eyes, the expression on his face that he now uses is the same as what he used back in the alley.

"so my dad married someone again back when i was eleven." you heard yeonjun reply. you join him in laying down on his bed, not wanting to leave him alone. "someone that i despised. i got the feeling she married my dad because he is hot and that's it."

"at the start, she was very nice but i knew that there is something sinister behind it and i was right. one week after the wedding, she starts to take control of everything in this household. dad was very much in love that he is blinded with what she did to the house and me." you turn your head to face his side profile. he gnawed at his cheeks and gritted his jaw.

"she made me take down the family photos, saying that she wants no traces of life before her in this house. instead of throwing it away, i put them here as i know that she has no balls to go in my room. not that i allowed her in anyways." he gestured to the closet, pointing to where the rest of the photos are now.

"this room is literally my safe haven from this fucking house. i don't allow anyone in here even my dad." yeonjun turns his head to face you. "well, except you and... yeah." his body now faces you.

you and another person.

knowing that he had someone alongside him when you were gone makes you feel a bit better.

you glance at one of the photos of him and his mom. "how's your mom?"

yeonjun sat up and looked back from his shoulder at you. "i know that she is feeling good. just visited her grave yesterday."

you return to when that first tragedy happened back when you were 10, the tragedy that makes you not want to leave yeonjun behind. the day that his mom died.

you were playing at his house when his mom go outside to buy some groceries. a few minutes later, the landline telephone called into the house with yeonjun picking it up, you stood beside him. you remembered how his expression of relaxation that he has let out on his face for the day slowly fades, his eyes starting to water, how the first tear left his eye as the call ended. how haunted he is. you took the initiation to call yeonjun's dad who is working in his workshop as yeonjun was in a state of shock. a few minutes later, you heard the sound of the vehicle in front of the house and yeonjun's dad brought both of you with him to the hospital.

the staff said that she got killed in a hit and run and died on the spot. a few witnesses think that the driver was drunk when they killed her. the enforcement failed to find them as they were driving too fast, escaping knowing that they did something wrong.

that day, a piece of yeonjun died. you soothe him as he sobs in your shoulder, letting your tee wet from his tears and snorts. you tried your best to calm him down, but you were also in a state of shock.

because of it, you can't bear to tell him that you were going to leave for the city five days after the accident. you got to tell him after the funeral. with you wearing your dark outfit and him wearing his black suit alone in front of the now covered gravesite, you told him that you have to leave him. you saw another wave of sadness in his eyes, him asking you multiple questions being the most prominent one that still aches your heart.

"what about us?"

at that time, you also are against leaving because now you weren't carrying yourself alone, you also carry yeonjun with you. you were yeonjun's support system in the hardest moments of his life at that time, and the support system wasn't supposed to leave the system they are supporting. but there you were.

yeonjun then accepts the news as you don't have the authority to let you stay here by yourself. on the day you were moving, yeonjun and his dad visit your home and help you pack up your belongings, furniture already left the home and on its way to the city. your parents thanking yeonjun's dad for everything he has done to both them and you, hoping that he can overcome the hardships he was facing and sending love and strength. you were hugging yeonjun so hard and tight that your back was sore at how tight he pulled against you, promising each other to never forget about each other anywhere you are going to be in the future.

"oh, shit! she's home" yeonjun said as he stood up, hearing a rumbling of a car in front of his window.

you quickly stood up. "oh fuck, pansy!" yeonjun then walk around his room, thinking of something while rubbing his hair multiple times.

"wait, you can't bring home pets-"

"yes, she doesn't fucking allow it. learned the hard way back then when she literally put away a stray cat i brought home from school on the streets." yeonjun looked at you. "and i know that you can't bring pets in your residence hall." he added as you follow with a nod.

you stood in front of him, grabbing his shoulders. yeonjun looks distraught and his hair all over the place. "let me handle this." you remarked.

after a few minutes and a door closed later, you and yeonjun go down to the living room. hearing the rustling of grocery bags in the kitchen.

"babe, help me with-" the voice stopped, you look through the doorway to the kitchen and find a woman wearing a black blazer, her face turned from an almost frown to a look that exudes professionalism. you stood your ground as you look at her.

you knew her. she is minjeong's violin teacher. the head of the concert that minjeong will do next month. the teacher that minjeong always complained to you about.

"oh yeonjun, who do we have here?" she said with a smile. you heard yeonjun hissed lowly behind you.

"she's a friend." yeonjun replied and you took a step toward her, opening your hand to her.

"nice to meet you, mrs. choi." she shooked your hand as you continue to introduce yourself, glancing behind to see that yeonjun is now gone, taking care of pansy.

"let me help you." you quickly remarked with mrs. choi remarked back.

"it's okay, i can handle it. you want something to drink?" you shook your head.

“i was actually going to wash the glass myself if you’re okay with it?” you move forward to the sink as she give a small nod.

seeing and hearing the woman yourself never came across to your mind. knowing minjeong has always complained to you about her, even cried because of what she said to her, and yeonjun describing her that she never took her role as his mother figure seriously irks you. seeing how she smiled at yeonjun and force a much better 'normal' look to try to impress you makes your stomach churn. how come someone can be this vile?

"i think i've seen you at the institute before. do you go there?" she asked, continuing to put the groceries into the cabinets.

"yes, i do." you replied after you closed the tap, reaching for the soap.

"what major?"

"fine arts."

she nods her head. "i'm one of the professors in the music department, violin specifically."

you give her a polite smile as she continues what she's doing. "how do you know yeonjun?" you heard her talk with a low tone when saying the name of her supposed son. the goosebumps started to form on a patch of your skin.

"we're friends since we were children. then i have to move out. i just saw him again today." you answered and put the now clean glass on the rack at the counter beside the sink.

you felt your cardigan pocket vibrating and fetch out the phone from it. you open the notifications to find yeonjun sending you a picture of pansy sleeping soundly in a box in the backyard shack, the place that you and yeonjun picked because it is now abandoned. sending him a thumbs up, you looked up and excuse yourself to mrs. choi. "i have to go back to campus cause i have an early class tomorrow."

she looks back at you and gives a warm smile. "do you have a ride?"

"yeah, yeonjun will bring me back."

you saw the woman roll her eyes, "okay, take care." you thanked her and walk out of the house as quickly as you can. saying a farewell to his dad who is still fixing the car as you brought yourself to yeonjun who is leaning in front of the truck door. you quickly pushed him to his side and climb into your side. as the truck rumble and move back to the road, you let out a huge sigh.

"what happened in there?" you look at yeonjun, gnawing your lips.

"you forgot a part where you say that your stepmom is a professor in the institute." yeonjun glances at you, raising an eyebrow.

"she's my friend's teacher who she really dislikes." you saw yeonjun gritting his teeth. you then continue. "well, i know because my friend always complained about her all the time after every class, especially now knowing she's going to perform at the concert and your stepmom is the director."

yeonjun let out a chuckle. "at least i'm not the only one that knows her true colors." you leaned back to continue.

leaning against the window, looking outside while hearing the beats and melody of the song on the radio, your childhood best friend beside you driving, seeing the sky turning from blue to orange to magenta, rubbing the palm of your hands against each other, feeling a slight chill.

today has been the most stressful day in your life, yet you feel contempt. your heart feels a little fuller. a day where you get your connection back from the past that you have unconsciously searched the entire time you're here. but with the newfound responsibility and a prophecy-like vision that you saw, you felt like something is going to change you and your life as a whole. you still don't know why you gain the powers and why is it you out of all people. maybe you have time to discover that, knowing that your support system is back with you.

taglist: @bubblejunnies @rein-deer-stuffs @kookthief​ @papiibuprofen​

can’t tag: @meowchikatt

© writingmochi on tumblr, 2021-2024. all rights reserved

[docholligay]

Please rant/rave (well, we already know which one it will be here) about Harry Potter!

GEE I HOPE THIS WAS WORTH WAITING FOR

OH MY GOD. The level of hatred I have for Harry Fucking Goddamn Potter, the culture around Harry Fucking Potter, extending its poisonous tentacles even to the concept of young adult fiction, fantasy, and the United Kingdom as a country and people. 

When you being on this, you may think, “Oh, Doc will explain that Harry Potter sucks because JKR hates trans women” and I will say, oh no, dear reader, that is a fantastic reason to hate the author, and I really suggest we all continue to hate her, and perhaps not purchase the QUEEN’S TONNES of officially licensed merchandise and movies and theme parks that give her stupid little fucking hands all that cash, but no, that is not why I hate the work. There are a number of great works done by terrible people, and the further out the lens of history gets the truer this is. 

I hate Harry Potter because it fucking sucks, and mentally stifled an entire fucking generation. 

“Well, Doc, Harry Potter was really there for me when--” Oh my god I could not fucking care LESS about your personal emotion connection to “orphan wizard boy turns out to be a rich aristocrat yet somehow less woke than Cinderella though” I have personally emotional connections to hot fucking garbage pails of media properties, and if someone came barreling through talking about the myriad ways in which they were horrible, I would be like, “Oh, you aren’t fucking wrong, pal” 

Harry Potter gained wild ass popularity in part due to its magnificent sorting system of Smart, Brave, Evil, and Other, because there’s nothing liberals like more than being able to put everyone’s personality into an easily labeled box, which is why astrology is so popular, or for the intellectuals, Myers-Briggs, which is just as fake but with the veneer of science. This allowed people to give into the tribalism they so desperately liked to pretend they did not possess, and also allow them to write thinkpieces about “The misunderstood Hufflepuff” or “Slytherins aren’t all bad!” or really anything that allows them to write a very real piece about their very imagined oppression for being a part of a totally fake house in a children’s book. Excellent use of your sociology degree, Kai, I thought the addition of phrases like, ‘Content of socialization” and “axes of oppression” really spoke to the struggles you face when wearing a green and silver scarf. 

The other reason it became popular is that it’s essentially wallpaper paste formed into characters. I have read all of the books, and I could not tell you even remotely what Harry’s defining personality traits are other than “protagonist”. In American, at least, a large part of it was the fascination with all things British, with the idea of boarding school and prefects and uniforms that aren’t inexplicably chinos and polo shirts for nine year olds. It allowed children to project onto something so bland that it could be anything. And for children, THAT’S FINE. There is a great deal of bland media made for children, but what I’m speaking to is the fandom, which is largely well over the age of 18. 

Because if we look at the books, are they...actually good? Was it good, or did I experience it as a child? I mean, honestly, on a literary level, are they, or was it just like we all watched Friends, we did it because everyone else was doing it, because I have a distinct memory of a series that involves such greats as “magical geegaws with poorly defined rules that are quickly forgotten despite being able to solve later problems quickly” or “Everyone loves Harry or is a bad guy, or secretly loved Harry all along” 

Oh, speaking of, man, if this was an actual well-written book, wouldn’t it have been wild to have Snape’s whole thing be to teach us that sometimes people do good things for the wrong reasons? Instead of naming your fucking child after the guy who ‘protected you’ because he still wanted to bone your mom? “After all this time” “Always.” 

While all this could have been explained, we have Quidditch added into the mix instead because 20 pages of the goddamn Puppy Bowl is exactly what I was looking for while I was waiting for JK to move the goddamn ball on literally any of these actual magical concepts. 

Harry Potter is a fucking trust fund baby, star quarterback, who grows up to be a cop and marries his high school sweetheart. (Speaking of, why were we shocked that JKR turned out to be a piece of shit when this was and always has been the conclusion of Harry Potter? Why are liberals so fucking into this series that upholds structures like it ain’t no one’s business? It’s a series that opines that those beneath us “Muggles” should be kept in the dark from us) Literally, he finds out he is a wizard and has a dragon-guarded fucking VAULT OF CASH. At 11. It’s such a series for little tyrants, you are special from birth and need do nothing to prove it, here is a letter certifying as such. Oh, not only are you rich and the greatest seeker and have excellent quips, but also your parents were not only rebels, but the best of rebels, and so deeply involved that your parents were killed by the big bad personally, again, because you are so special. His mother’s love literally saves his ass over and over again, because he was SO SPECIAL. He fought Voldemort FROM THE BEGINNING, and WON.  It’s literally the most privilege baby fantasy in the world. 

“But Doooooooooooc, it’s for chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiildren” 

A) Yeah, and you’re 32, you’re making my fucking point about Harry Potter setting an entire generation up for intellectual failure to launch. 

B) Okay, and? I can think of a bunch of kids’ books off the top of my head that in no way require specialness to be given by birth so as to roll out the red carpet for master protagonist. The Hunger Games. Watership Down. A Series of Unfortunate Events. The Chronicles of FUCKING NARNIA, about which I have only a small handful of particularly kind things to say. I’ve never read Percy Jackson, but it’s my understanding that despite his being a literal demigod, the attitudes of the supporting cast are allowed to fall between the extremes of “Appreciates Percy” and “naughty or will learn” Harry does nothing to improve himself even after knowing that he is HUNTED BY THE BIG BAD! “I won’t do this because I don’t like Snape”. So There” which, again, if this series were written with the slightest bit of care or know-how, could be a humbling fucking plot point! BUT NO THAT WOULD BE NAUGHTY. 

But the real reason I hate Harry Potter so much has everything to do with the fandom surrounding it, and how it intellectually stunted a generation of adults. The promise of Harry Potter was that it was supposed to make a new generation of readers, and so the popularity of them was pushed, and so there was discussion of teaching them in schools, but I tell you fucking what, I know a whole lot more folks who grew up reading Harry Potter that never advanced beyond reading YA, or even just rereading the entire series every year and that’s pretty much them done and dusted. 

In the attempt to recapture whatever it was about Harry Potter that attracted children (A lot of it was your peers doing it. I read them all as they came out, and it was literally the equivalent of watching the game so you could talk at the water cooler. That was never going to be recaptured) people, who by this time were likely in their teens, kept getting recommended stuff at the same and same level. No one ever felt pushed to read things that are challenging, to read things that have some of the concepts or themes of Harry Potter but maybe complicate. I know FAR more adults who read adult books that aren’t into Harry Potter, even if they were as children, than the reverse. 

But Doc, why is reading only books meant for 14 year olds a problem??? I mean I suppose I can’t convince you that comfort is not the job of literature or of life, it is the job of an easy chair, because Americans especially are decadent as fuck about being comfy cozy all the time and if anything causes them distress or pain it should be immediately avoided. But Maybe I can convince you that you’re fucking up these books for actual ass children who deserve to have their own writing section without adults bringing their fucking asses into it. They deserve their own spaces. There’s a number of YA editors who have talked about the difficult space YA now occupies because since Potter’s blowup, it’s no longer a niche category, but basically “adult easy reads” and so they have been buying books that are more about the tastes of adult buyers than of literal 14 year olds. 

Is that not...sad? To anyone else? Honestly, and this is not part of the essay because it’s a broader reaching problem, but CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS NOT FOR US. CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS NOT FOR US. CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS FOR FUCKING CHILDREN. The fucking 40-23 set really needs to get their shit together and grow up a little bit and engage in some fucking adult media, and maybe, if we support what we’re actually looking for FOR ADULTS, it will come to us. No one is saying you can’t read Harry Potter or watch some Cartoon Network show, but like, search your heart and come the fuck on. Engage in something more complex. If not for yourselves, for the kids getting shoved into simplified adult stories. It should not be about us. 

ANYWAY, my larger point is that it was Harry Potter, a badly written series about a magical boy who was chosen and magic and also rich and also a favorite of the headmaster and also more clever than most adults and also spoke the same magical snake language as the big bad and was also star quarterback, but at least there was a system in which you could buy a scarf in block colors and feel like you belonged to a team. 

(But not a sports team! lol handegg! I’m cool I don’t get into sports! Except Quidditch.) 

[just-char]

5. Can I request Percy's POV for the opening scene in Chapter 2 of Homeward, where Ramsey has dinner with Percy and Molly? Or would doing so spoil the dramatic effect of later on? The scene is so well-written I feel the other POV isn't needed to understand what's going on, but it would be fun to read nonetheless. :)

Good evening. A fantastic request! I am a very slow writer, but here is the scene in full in Percy's POV. You will notice it is nearly twice as long due to the wordy and rambling nature of Percy's existence (and hence, one of the reasons Homeward is from Ramsey's point of view) and also that it is very much unedited. It was fun to explore the conversation Percy has on the phone with her mother (during which I believe you will cringe several times at both of their lack of tact and general ineptness. ) It is sort of not canon as the phone call lasts a little bit longer than it does in the actual story, but I love Liz and Arthur too much to not have fun with them when I can. Story: Homeward Word Count: 4,045

Ramsey, Percy had noticed, was over for dinner more often recently. She did not mind this. Quite the opposite. She often struggled with portion sizes when cooking now that she had to cook for more than one person (somehow, simply doubling the amount she used to make never worked out like it mathematically should have) and there was always enough to feed him. He also made for good company for Molly, who Percy suspected, despite how quiet she could be around others, loved having him over for the noise and excitement he brought to the usually quiet apartment. It was important for her to have good adult role models, and the imperfect Ramsey who was trying to make up for his difficult past was, in her opinion, a much better fit than the rambunctious Giovanni, whose moral code was vague at best and dangerous at worst. Also, admittedly, she simply liked him around, which was probably reason enough. So, no, she most certainly didn’t mind that he came over more often and would stay for dinner. It was something friends did, she was sure. Well, she was almost sure.

Today, he especially had a good reason to come over. Molly’s bedroom had been irking her lately. Percy was perfectly capable of painting walls– in fact, she was excellent at painting walls– but she was not an artist, and it was a strict difference. Although she could quite easily and quite neatly paint a green coat, or even perhaps some sort of dual coloured coat, given the proper masking tape, she could not paint bears. Molly’s old bedroom, she had noticed the only time she’d been in it, had bears on the wall. Teddy bears, specifically. And given that Molly was nearing adolescence, Percy wanted to take full advantage of the age where she would still enjoy such frivolous things and recreate them. Ramsey was also very idle, she found. When he was not working, he was drawing or sleeping from what she could gather (the latter much more so than the former) and it seemed to be putting a ‘dampener’ on his mood. Paying him to paint Molly’s bedroom (with her assistance, of course) seemed like a good way to kill two birds with one stone. Not that she would ever hurt a bird, of course. Well, not unless it was a dangerous individual that had to be taken care of. Perhaps she wouldn’t think about it anymore.

The spaghetti was a little salty. She hoped neither of them minded. It sort of reminded her of buttered noodles, which she mostly knew as a childhood treat (emphasis on treat, they were certainly not good for her) and as such she didn’t dislike the taste, but still. “Thanks again for painting my room, Mr Murdoch.” As Percy scrutinized her plate, Molly had taken to thanking Ramsey for his work. She was a very polite young girl. Very admirable. It was incredible how well-raised she was, all things considered, but Percy thought that simply spoke to how wonderful Molly was, and was not reflective of anything her father did for her.

Ramsey waved her gratitude off humbly. “Eh, it wasn’t nothing. S’nice to get out of the old apartment anyway.”

Percy chose to ignore his double negative. It was confusing, but he did it a lot and she’d managed to get used to it. She did not understand why he found it difficult to accept thanks, however. She quickly patted her mouth with her napkin (dinner etiquette was very important) so she could show her shared appreciation. “Whether it was nothing or not, we appreciate your effort.” Of course, she knew it probably was nothing to him. After all, he was an artist of very high caliber. But that didn’t change the fact he had put time and energy into doing it.

Instead of accepting her thanks, once more Ramsey chose to deflect, pointing his fork at her. “You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause you couldn’t do it yourself.” Before Percy could debate this, however, Ramsey decided to go for two blows. He leaned in towards Molly, “Percy can’t draw for snacks,” and Molly found this funny enough. Percy watched them with interest, and then they turned and watched her with interest. Ah. Right. She was supposed to respond to that with something equally clever yet jocund, as was expected. “It’s true, I am no artist. However, I am also not a con-artist.” She didn’t quite understand what was so funny about two people mocking each other repeatedly, but Molly seemed to find it humorous and it was all very lighthearted so she decidedly went along with it (though she found her own wit was much better suited for one-line statements than battles of insults.)

Molly gasped and covered her mouth. Presumably, this was jokingly. Percy doubted what she said was all that bad. “She’s got you there, Mr Murdoch. Are you just gonna take that?”

Ramsey seemed pleased with himself. “Oh, was that supposed to be a burn?” He took a moment to think, “Heh, well, I may be a criminal, but at least I’m not a nerd.” Molly made noises with her mouth that Percy couldn’t quite decipher as she frowned. She never quite understood the word as an insult, after all, “There is nothing laughable about being well-educated.”

Ramsey apparently took her defensive statement as his victory. “Oh, I see,” he said casually, “So you can give it, but ya can’t take it, huh?”

“I can take you back to prison, Ramsey,” Percy blurted out. Oh. She had not even thought about it before saying it. Ramsey seemed equally surprised, coughing on the spaghetti in his mouth as Molly laughed. Admittedly, it felt good to be in on the joke. She smiled at him to clarify no ill will and he looked bashfully back down at his plate. She took it that this meant she had won, for once. Excellent.

Suddenly, Ramsey recovered from his defeat and looked up. “You excited to go to Marchpoint for Christmas, Molly?”

Molly beamed. “Sure! Marchpoint is really pretty, and Percy’s parents are really nice.” It was reassuring to know that Molly truly did enjoy visiting them– her parents had… overwhelming and very different reactions to the prospect of her adopting a child, and for a little bit Percy was very worried that they would make Molly uncomfortable, or perhaps regardless Molly simply wouldn’t like them. Alas, it worked out the complete opposite. Percy hesitated to use the word ‘obsessed’, but her parents were most certainly passionate in their approach to Molly in a way she wasn’t expecting. Well, her father she should have expected, but her mother? It really did go to show how the people you love can always surprise you.

Ramsey, meanwhile, seemed content to speculate about her hometown’s nature. “Heh, sounds like one a those little fancy holiday towns.” Admittedly, he was not entirely wrong. He had good sense about those kinds of things, Percy supposed. “Marchpoint,” he repeated, scratching his goatee. Very idly, Percy wondered what it felt like.

“It’s pretty fancy! Percy’s parents live in one of those big country homes with a porch and huge backyard, and all the little town shops look like they’re from the sixties. It’s so much quieter than the city.” She could not grow a beard herself, but she remembered how her father’s felt whenever he shaved it. Textured, bristly. Ramsey’s face fell. “What’d I do? I got something on me?” He looked down at his shirt to check. Hm. Apparently, she had been staring. And also not listening, as she couldn’t seem to remember what it was they had been talking about. She decidedly corrected both of those ‘faux pas’s.

“My apologies. I was…” She did not want him to feel self-conscious, “... lost in thought. What were we speaking about?”

Ramsey smiled at her cheekily. “Talkin’ about your fancy pants hometown, Sparky.”

“Ah, yes.” How could she have forgotten? “Marchpoint certainly has its charms. However, I prefer to be in the city where I am needed.” She frowned, thinking about just how useless she’d be somewhere so quiet. “Indeed, such a sleepy town has no need for my unforgiving sense of justice.”

Molly lifted some spaghetti in her fork. “It’s nice for the holidays though!”

“Justice doesn’t take holidays,” Percy reminded her seriously.

“Alright, Judge Judy, let’s not bring work to the table,” Ramsey scolded her. Percy wasn’t quite sure who Judge Judy was, but she had to admit he was right. She went back to eating her spaghetti.

Molly looked at him. “What’re you doing for the holidays, Mr Murdoch?”

Ramsey, from what Percy could tell, was not expecting to be asked this question. Percy realized she wasn’t sure what he was doing herself. “Me? Uh, nothin’, kid.” Had she never asked him? Ah. Shoot. She hadn’t. She’d try to remember to do that next year. “My family’s too far away and small to bother visiting every year. I like to keep it to myself.” Percy couldn’t pretend she wouldn’t do the same if Marchpoint was further away, but it surprised her that Ramsey, given his sensitive nature, would feel similarly.

“How practical!”

Molly did not seem as pleased with this as she was. “That’s sad, Mr Murdoch. Don’t you want to be around people during the holidays?”

Hm. Molly offered an interesting point. Ramsey was prone to bouts of loneliness. She watched him carefully as he attempted to shrug off the question. “Nah, I’m good. Not too into heavily commercialised stuff. Just another day off to me.” Percy was always the best with conversations but she was certainly familiar with interrogations and she liked to think she knew a lie when she saw one. Such a lackadaisy approach to such an important time seemed so unlike him.

“While I usually like to respect the wishes of others, I would not like to think of you spending this time alone, Ramsey. The holidays are a chance to reconnect and spend time with the people you love and care about. They are not, as you say, just ‘another day off.’”

Ramsey frowned at her, but Molly spoke first. “You should come with us to Marchpoint! I’m sure no one would mind.” Hm. Huh. Percy blinked. And then she blinked again, because for some reason the first blink hadn’t cleared her mind. She could feel her eyebrows furrowing as her brain went over the statement. Ramsey. At her family home. Staying with them. For the holidays. In Marchpoint. With her parents. She couldn’t even picture it. Molly’s quiet voice broke her out of her stupor. “Uhm, would that be okay, Percy?”

Percy gave blinking one last try to see if it would work. She’d have to give an answer– that was how questions worked. One person asks a question and the other answers, unless the question is rhetorical or sarcastic, something that was clarified by tone indicators. Molly’s question was neither, so she had to answer it. Would it be okay? Well, she’d have to ask her mother. Yes. That was the answer. She’d have to ask. “I’d have to call Mother,” she said, and then quickly to reassure them both, “But I don’t see why not.” Smile. Yes. That was a good idea– smiling made people more comfortable. She was nailing this.

Ramsey seemed upset. She was not nailing this. “Look, I don’t wanna be burdenin’ a buncha strangers all out of pity–” Well, that was simply ridiculous. “Ramsey,” she interrupted him, “would you like to come?” She waited expectantly.

He stared back at her. “I guess. I mean, if the food’s free.” A jest, she assumed, based on the wink. “But I don’t wanna come if I’m just gonna be in the way is all.” Hm. Well, she wouldn’t force him if he believed he would be out of place.

“I understand, Mr Murdoch,” Molly reassured him quietly, “I just thought it’d be nice to have another person I’m really comfortable around going to meet so many new people… But if you don’t want to, it’s okay.” She smiled at him. Hm. Percy hadn’t even thought about that. Molly was quite shy, and while her family wasn’t large by any means, they were quite loud, even for Percy sometimes.

Ramsey put both of his hands up as though he was showing he had no weapons. “Alright, alright! I’ll come if I’m able, just stop lookin’ at me with those big ole puppy dog eyes. Geez, I can’t stand it.” Oh, that was good. Ack, but it was so soon– she’d call her mother now, just in case. Her mother wasn’t fond of late changes to plans. Percy pulled her phone out of her pocket. If only they’d come up with this last week.

“Excuse me,” she said as she stood up, not wishing to neglect her table manners. The phone stopped ringing and her mother’s voice replaced the sound.

“Hello?”

“Hello, mother.” Percy looked over to the door to the hall. Perhaps this was a conversation best had in private.

“Hello, Percival.” Her mother paused. “Lovely evening.”

As Percy made her way to the hall she glanced out the window. The sky was clear. “Why, yes, it is a lovely evening.” There was a small pause as Percy closed the door behind her and walked to her bedroom. She didn’t particularly like phone calls. Well, she didn’t hate them, but she most certainly found them more difficult than a simple face-to-face conversation or a quick text.

“Why are you calling during dinner?” her mother asked gruffy.

Oh, had she been waiting for her to speak? See, if they had been face-to-face, that would have been more obvious. “Ah, yes. About Molly and I staying over–”

“What, you’re not coming anymore?”

Percy glanced at the phone in surprise. “What?”

“Is that Percy? Is she not coming?” she heard her father say in the background. Oh, dear.

“Arthur, I’m on the phone,” her mother snapped at him.

Her father did not seem to notice. “If it’s Percy, tell her I said hello, and that I’d be very disappointed if she and Molly weren’t coming up!” “Yeah, yeah.” There was a sigh. “He says hello. And that you better be coming up. ”

Percy nodded as though they could see her. “We’re still coming.” “They’re still coming, Arthur,” It sounded as though her mother had covered the mic, and then like she had taken her hand off of it again. “Okay, so then, what are you calling for?”

Percy idly placed her hand on the cool frame of her bed. “It’s just, well, I have this friend–” “You do?” She sounded surprised. Had Percy never mentioned Ramsey to her before?

“Yes.” No, she hadn’t, she realised. Odd.

“Alright, well, what about this friend?”

“He–”

“He doesn’t need money, does he?”

“What? Uhm, no, mother. He doesn’t need…” Percy paused, “Well, I don’t believe he needs money. I suppose he could.” It was certainly possible. Ramsey had obviously gotten in with bad crowds before and old habits did not die easy. It was entirely in the realm of plausibility that he had gone out and gotten into money trouble– or, alternatively, an old mistake had come back to haunt him despite his current good nature.

“Well, did he ask you for money?”

“Hm?” She’d almost forgotten she was on the phone. “Oh, no. No, he didn’t.”

“Good. None of your business then.” Ah, her mother was correct. It was rude of her to speculate like that.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“... Percival.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you calling me.”

“Oh, right.” She almost forgot what she’d called about. Her mother had that effect on people. “Yes. Well, this friend–” “Oh! Ask her if it’s Ramsey.” Ah. Her father again.

Her mother sounded mostly confused, and a little irritated. “Who?”

“Ramsey! Her friend, is it Ramsey?” Percy found herself rubbing the frame. Smooth, glossy wood. It felt nice.

“For god’s sake– Percival, your father wants to know if it’s... Ramsey.”

“Ah, tell him yes, it is.” “It is.” The mic muffled again. “Oh! Is he alright?” “Arthur, getting this conversation to end is like trying to get blood out of a rock and you’re making it harder–” “Alright, alright! Don’t raise your voice, Liz.” Her mother audibly groaned. “Did you at least tell her I said hello?” “I already told her! Just be quiet and eat your roast beef, you big lug.” A pause. “Are you still there Percival?” “Yes.”

“Alright. Tell you what, because my dinner is getting cold and this phone call is driving me to the edge. You have three sentences to tell me what’s wrong or I’m hanging up. Go.”

“Oh, er. Well–” “That was one. You have two now.”

Shoot. Percy took a moment to think about the clearest and most direct two sentences possible. “My friend Ramsey has nowhere to go for the holidays,” she said slowly, “Could he stay with us?”

“Oh, is that it?” Percy wasn’t the best judge of tone but her mother almost sounded disappointed. There was another pause, slightly longer than any of the ones before, as though she was taking this information in. “Hm,” she said finally, “He from the streets?” Percy thought of Ramsey’s little apartment. “No.” “He dangerous? Violent? Crazy?” “No.” Ramsey wasn’t any of those things even when he was a criminal. She’d begin to make her way back to the kitchen, given that the conversation was nearing it’s close.

“Drat. Well, whatever. Sure, sure. He can come.”

Percy opened the door to the hall and closed it behind her. “Thank you,” she said quickly.

“Yeah, yeah, well. I’m not a fiend, Percival. Besides, house won’t be full anyway. You know your uncle isn’t coming up this year, don’t you?” She walked into the kitchen, where Ramsey and Molly still sat at the table.

“Yes. I know.”

“Funny, isn’t it? Son finally decides to come home and then it’s all about staying local after coming up the twenty-five years– s’not like we don’t have room for his brat either. That uncle of yours is a strange man.”

“Indeed.”

“Anyway. Get lost so I can eat.” There was a slight pause. “Love ya.” Percy smiled pleasantly. “Goodbye.”

The phone clicked. Her mother had hung up. She glanced up to her company (she hadn’t realized it, but apparently she had been staring at the floor the whole time) and they stared back at her eagerly.

Molly leaned forward. “What’d she say?” Their plates were empty– they must’ve finished eating.

Percy hummed, trying to replay the conversation. “Well, first she said ‘Hello.’ Then, ‘It’s a lovely evening.’ Then, ‘Why are you calling during dinner?’ Then–”

“I think she meant, what’s the verdict, chief?” Ramsey said quickly. He looked very pink. “Er, am I coming or going?”

Ah, there he went again with his nonsensical word choice. Percy rubbed her chin. “Both options you’ve given me suggest you are allowed. Which do I pick if you’re not?”

Molly groaned. “Percy...”

“My apologies.” Perhaps she was poking too much fun. “You may come, Ramsey.” He seemed appropriately relieved.

“Yes!” Molly exclaimed, and then, in a fit of excitement that was completely unexpected, jumped up to embrace her. Percy could not hide her surprise as her small arms squeezed her. Still, she smiled, wrapping one arm around her ward and using the other to give her a small pat on the head. “Thanks Percy.” The sound rippled through her shirt. It felt very nice.

“Of course.” Hm. What time was it? Molly always did her homework at eight. Percy glanced at the clock on the wall. “Do you have homework to do?”

“Ack!” Molly suddenly let go and raced to her room. Percy watched her go. She was a very kind child. It was lovely how much she cared for Ramsey. It only just occurred to her that perhaps Molly was not entirely selfish in her want for him to be there. Percy just felt privileged to know her, sometimes. It felt silly, given Molly’s age, but it was true.

Speaking of Ramsey, he stood up from the table and Percy looked over to him. “Yeah, uh, thanks, Perc’,” he said softly, “You really didn’t have to.”

Percy smiled at him. He was very sweet for a reformed criminal. She could appreciate that this was probably very difficult for him. Ah, she should reassure him of his use. “I think your presence will be good for her. It can be quite overwhelming meeting new people, especially for children.”

He simply shrugged. “Eh, maybe.” He glanced towards the door to the hall and back at her. “I guess I’d better get going.”

It was always a shame to see him go, but he had his own business to get to. Expecting him to stay forever would be selfish and immature, and Percy was neither of these things when she could fight it. “Of course. Thank you for joining us, Ramsey. It’s always a pleasure.” She started collecting the plates from dinner. She’d wash them now. She didn’t like leaving dishes in the sink.

Ramsey did not leave. Instead, he took the plates from her hands and grinned at her. “Heh, yeah, well, that’s me. I’m pretty great company,” he said as he brought them to the sink. He smirked then, putting a finger to his cheek. “And I’m pretty too.”

While he did that, she made her way to the drawer to get her rubber gloves. Her aunt always said washing dishes without them made your hands dry, though, if Percy were being honest, she never really thought about why she wore them. Habit.

“Very,” she said to entertain him. “Thank you very much for your assistance.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” Percy blinked and looked over at him. He wiggled his eyebrows (provocatively?) Hm.

She looked away, clearing her throat and pulling on her gloves. “How is the apartment treating you, Ramsey?” She turned the tap to run the warm water. As Ramsey spoke, she grabbed the washing up liquid.

He was leaning against the counter. “Fine. Kinda small.” He shrugged at her. “I like the TV. Free cable.”

Percy smiled, procuring a sponge from a dish beside the sink. “I’m glad it’s to your liking. Perhaps if you keep working hard, you will be able to move somewhere bigger.” She started cleaning the dishes. Pasta luckily did not stain, and it did not take long to clean three plates. When she got to the last one, she glanced over at him again. He was… still not leaving. How did she approach that? On one hand, she didn’t want him to feel like he had to leave, because he did not. On the other, she couldn’t simply say nothing, either. After all, he’d said he was leaving. Perhaps he wanted to talk to her about something? She rinsed the plate off and stuck it in the drying rack with the others. Ramsey glanced at her and she cleared her throat. “Well,” she started, “There is no point prolonging the inevitable.”

He pushed off the counter. “Yeah. Thanks again for dinner, and, uh,” he coughed, “Bringing me along for the holidays.” Percy smiled at him.

“Goodbye, Ramsey. Until tomorrow.” She turned back to the sink and began taking off her gloves, but he didn’t leave. Should she say something? Maybe he truly wasn’t alright. “Are you not leaving?” Ah, now that she said it, perhaps that was a little blunt.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. I was just, uh..." he looked at her desperately but she did not know what to say. "Right, uh, seeya.” He gave her a little wave and she returned it, but as he left Percy couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for her lacking approach. She should’ve asked if he was okay, maybe even if he wanted to stay a little longer, talk about something. She knew he didn’t particularly like being alone– perhaps going home was hard for him? Ah. Friendship was difficult and unfamiliar territory. She knew he wasn’t doing as well as he could’ve been, but she didn’t want to freak him out by pushing him too hard.

Well. One thing at a time.

[hillnerd]

How about my Prodigal Prat Percy and My shy neurodivergent Hugo who is his favourite Nephew - if you like. (No obligation what so ever.)

It was take your kids to work day at the Ministry. Percy knew his own job was rather boring for his twin daughters. Lucy looked on with polite interest, while Molly didn't bother looking interested until she found out more about the Floo network and how there were maintenance workers who would go into it.  "It's the most dangerous job at the Ministry beside those at the MLE office."  Molly's eyes lit up.  "What happens in there that's so dangerous?" "Well you have to go in there with specially charmed gear so you can breath and travel through it without getting your lungs messed up from prolonged exposure to all that soot and flame. Also the workers are fighting a tornado of flames and Floo magic when doing the charms in there-- so it's rather hazardous. Easy for someone to lose their footing and get tossed around for hours on end if you don't take all the proper precautions." "Oh! Ohh! I want to do that!" Percy let out a sigh. Of course she did. She said that about every dangerous job she'd ever heard of. Dragon taming, Auror, experimental potioneer, curse breaker... The list went on and on.  "I'm sure you'd be very good at it. What about you, Lucy?" "I'd rather keep my feet on this side of the Floo," she quickly answered. “What kind of spells keep a person in place through that, though?” His twins weren't identical in looks or personality, unlike his twin brothers. He wondered if they'd be sorted into the same Hogwarts house or not. Molly was as Gryffindor a child as he'd ever known, but Lucy was harder for him to pin down.  He looked at his pocket watch. Nearly half past three.  "Time to meet your mother."

"Ohh Daddy can't we stay longer? I want to go do maintenance in the Floo!" "Only trained professionals get to do that, Molly," he said, leading them down the hall to Floo them to their mother. "I wanted to see the mail sorting room again," Lucy added, looking with longing down the hall.  "There'll be plenty of other times you can see that," he said, but his chest puffed up a bit. Perhaps he'd managed to make their time at the office less than boring, after all. "As I recall, you both wanted to visit the Magical Child Welfare Office today." "The Adoption Carnival!" Lucy smiled, hands grasping together beneath her chin. She excitedly twirled her skirt back and forth like a bell. "I'd forgotten!" Molly gave a whoop, punching the air. "I LOVE the carnivals!" "Once you're done with your volunteering, you get to have fun with the other kids, but not until then." Both his daughters rolled their eyes. "We know, papa!" "You tell us that every time!" "I don't want you to forget the reason for the carnival," he forewarned, wagging a finger their way. "It's so the kids can find families, we know!" Molly moaned. "We're not dumb." "It's not a question of your intelligence. It's a matter of slowing down to recognize how lucky we are to have families, and to prioritize those children's needs." "Will there be a petting zoo?"  He gave a sigh. Maybe they were a little young for him to be giving this speech.  "I believe your mother might have mentioned baby nifflers." He could barely contain his smile as the girls squealed and laughed.  When they arrived at the MCW Office it was controlled chaos, as it ever was.

 Kids were running about in much nicer clothes than usual, though many weren't quite finished dressing yet. The twins were happy to join the ruckus, both yelling 'Uncle Ron, Uncle Ron!' and running across the den to join their Uncle in braiding some little girl's hair. Various Weasleys were part of the fray. He spotted George out in the garden setting up carnival games, Ginny polishing brooms, his Mum magically changing spots of grass to bright colors for a cake walk, and various other brothers and spouses were walking between booths, arms laden with supplies.  Percy looked about for his wife. He soon found Audrey chasing down a four year old who was wearing socks on both his hands and running away with no trousers. Percy quickly headed the boy off, picked him up and presented him to Audrey. "Thank goodness for you," Audrey panted, blowing a curl out of her face. "This conejito doesn't like putting on trousers, even though he knows guests are coming." "Is that so?" Percy asked the boy with his sternest of faces, as his wife pulled the polka dotted socks from the small boy's hands. "It is quite important you wear proper attire when meeting new people." "Trousers are hot!" the boy exclaimed, head dramatically thrown back. "Hmm... A very good point," he nodded, looking to Audrey. "Perhaps we can turn these into shorts instead?" "You do it? I'm too tired to remember how to tailor things," she quietly griped, pressing her head against his arm. He tried his best not to smile when she was put out like this, but always found her pouting looks rather adorable.  "Long day?"  "Long month!"  He quickly spelled the trousers into shorts and they finally got the wriggling boy. They went about the room tying shoes, tucking shirts. It took a whole lot of child wrangling from Audrey, her staff, and all the Weasleys-- but they finally were ready for the prospective foster families (and perhaps even future adopters) to arrive, and for the children to go about the carnival having an intense amount of fun. Later on Harry arrived with his own children, which caused a lot of turning heads, not only because it was ‘THE Potter,’ but because James had let out a cry of glee and immediately knocked over a table full of food. Percy’s twins joined with their cousins, and Percy was happy to let Harry look after them for a bit. With so many staff on hand this year Audrey didn't have to be as hands on for the paperwork side of things for once, giving them a chance to slip away.  They went back into the center to their favorite spot, a little sunroom with an old comfortable couch.

"This looks to be your best carnival yet. Wonderful turnout."

"I'll feel better next week when I know if it paid off," she said with a sigh, putting her head on his shoulder. "But yes, it definitely looks like fun. Nothing but toothy grins everywhere I looked."

Percy nodded and leaned his head on top of hers. Their peace was broken by the sound of fireworks going off, making them both jump. "Those weren't supposed to go off for an hour! I was going to have ear plugs for the children and everything!" "Can we have a strict family foster George for a bit?" asked Percy, shaking his head.  "Sadly he's past the age limit for fostering by fifteen years." She closed her eyes and rubbed her brows.  Another great bang came, but this one sounded more like a slammed door followed by the pattering of tiny feet. Audrey made a move to get up but Percy waved her down. "I'll get this one." It didn't take much looking to find a head of bright ginger curls poking out from under a craft laden table.   "Hugo?" Percy asked. His knees creaked as he squatted down, something they'd been more and more prone to doing lately.  His tiny nephew had his back to the wall and hands over his ears as he rocked a bit. His eyes were tightly scrunched closed.  Percy did a quick Muffliato, and closed the curtains with a flick of his wand.

Despite saying he'd take care of it, Audrey had some in to fix the problem. He silently mimed 'tell them I have Hugo,' which she immediately understood. 

Knowing there was little point in talking to Hugo at this time, he gathered a few books and a cup of water. He gently placed them in front of his nephew as he waited for the boy to open his eyes. They had an old copy of 'Beedle the Bard' he'd given the house a decade ago he silently read. A good five minutes passed before his nephew started to move.  "Water?" Hugo nodded before drinking the cup and giving a small 'ahhh' as he finished it. "I have a few books we can read from in the sunroom, if you like. Which do you prefer," he said, laying the three books out. "Beedle the Bard, Stellaluna, or Arrow to the Sun?" Hugo pointed to Stellaluna, grasping Percy's finger as they went to the sunroom to read.  He read Stellaluna three times, at Hugo's silent request. The boy's bright brown eyes lit up every time the bat and her little bird friends hugged at the end.

"Do you want to go back to the carnival?" Hugo shrugged and buried his mop of curls into Percy's side.  "Was it just the fireworks that were too loud, or were the people too loud too?" he asked, weighing his hands back and forth. Hugo put both hands in Percy's. "I understand. It was rather chaotic out there. Lots of noise." Hugo nodded.  "If I put some headphones on to make it quiet, would you like to go outside? The petting zoo, cake walk and broom riding booth looked like fun." Hugo worried his lower lip, looking much like his father had at the same age.

 Ron hadn't been on the spectrum, exactly, but he'd always been a more sensitive child like Hugo. That was most likely why he was so partial to the lad. He'd always preferred Ron to the rest of his siblings, though he tried to cover up his partiality the best he could. Whenever he had a choice, he'd make sure Ron got his castoffs first because it meant more to him and he showed such care and kindness to all his items and pets. 

His nephew had just turned four and still barely talked, but he had that same deep care within him about things. He held books with reverence, smiled with the same whole-bodied smile, and had a natural curiosity all his own. He hoped to hear Hugo talk more, eventually, because he imagined the boy had quite a lot to say. "So, headphones?" "Are... Are they Muggle?" Hugo whispered.  Percy had to fight back the mad grin trying to make its way across his face. He hadn't heard Hugo in months, despite being around the boy many times.  "They're very close to the ones you normally use, so sort of," Percy answered, bringing Hugo with him to raid the supply closet. "Your Dad and Uncle George invented them based on Muggle technology, but they don't use electricity. They use magic to help cancel out certain sounds, but still let you hear the important things." He held up a pair and Hugo looked glum. "Ready for me to put them on you?" Hugo shook his head, brows furrowing a bit.  "What's wrong?" Hugo looked away and bit his lip. His nephew didn't much like things that were different from what he was used to. What did his headphones look like? They weren't the mass-produced ones. No, they were the prototypes, so they'd used actual Muggle tech and just spells on top of it. Percy racked his mind trying to remember the details of them.  "Sorry they don't look like your normal ones from home. Did you need me to spell them another color?"   Hugo stopped responding, looking to the ground.   "They do the same job though... I can magic them to look more like the ones from home. Make them have have the same padding on the inside, change the color... Make them plastic-looking." Hugo suddenly nodded, running up to Percy and pulling at his sleeve. Ah, he'd forgotten about Hugo's interest in plastic. It took a few spells before Hugo finally put on the headphones and smiled.  "Ready to go back out?" His nephew nodded, giving a thumbs up and a broad grin. "Excellent. I have it on good authority that there will be baby nifflers at the petting zoo."

[1littleshippergirl1]

A Heartfelt Discussion

Summary: Percy has a talk with Lucy about where her mother is. Single father!Percy

--

He'd known that once they were old enough to understand, to comprehend the lack of a mother in their life, questions were going to arise.

It was inevitable. Much as he tried to keep things going spectacularly, they would notice, they would see how their family was different than that of their cousins or friends.

He could scarcely recall a moment when the girls were young-Lucy was five and Molly was seven-; some new neighbors had moved into the house across the street from them in their muggle neighborhood. A family of four. The girls were nosy as ever, peeking out from the corner of the window to get a glimpse. He'd been in the kitchen, preparing dinner by hand when Lucy came barreling into the room and asked the dreaded question.

"Daddy!" Lucy skidded to a stop, giving his leg a hug.

He smiled down at her. "Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I has a question," she stepped back, grinning toothily at him.

He didn't bother to correct her. "And what's your question?" he stirred the pot of potatoes.

"Where's our mummy?"

He nearly dropped the spoon.

"W-What?" he asked, weakly. He turned to look at her, swallowing thickly. "What did you say, sweetie?"

"Where's our Mummy?" Lucy repeated, not noticing the change in his demeanor. "Cody has a mummy and Danni has a mummy. Why don't Molly and I have a Mummy?"

She was peering at him with those eyes of hers, so full of childhood innocence. Percy would hate to take it away.

What was he even supposed to tell her? It wasn't supposed to happen yet. He'd thought he was safe! The girls were too young for that sort of talk, they wouldn't get it. But now that she'd gone ahead and brought it up, he had to say something, least so she wouldn't go and ask someone else.

He wasn't even certain those were her words! Perhaps she was just parroting Molly again or one of her friends had asked-that Cody was a bit too nosy for Percy;s liking-or she must have overheard someone at the Burrow talking hushedly about it. Godric knows that George couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Percy didn't know where the question had come from nor did he know how to properly respond. But the damage was done. He didn't like this, being so out of his element, so caught off guard. It wasn't him. It wasn't how he functioned.

As Lucy waited for an answer, bouncing on her heels, Percy stared down at her, his tongue feeling awfully loose and unreliable.

No one else in the family had been through a divorce or gone through a situation close enough to his. No one was able to give him the advice he so desperately needed. What did they know about this? Sometimes, Percy envied his siblings' marriages. They were happy and together and everything was so bloody perfect.

He couldn't say the same, not by a longshot.

So, he did what every parent had done at one point or another, he put it off. She was far too young for that talk. It would need to happen eventually, but that time wasn't now.

"Lucy," he put on a false cheery voice, "I have an idea."

Her eyes lit up. "What?"

"How about we go out for ice cream after dinner. How's that sound?"

She gasped, letting out a giddy holler. "Okay, Daddy!" she jumped and down, once, then went running back into the living room to inform Molly of the night's activity. "Molly! Molly! Daddy says we're getting ice cream!"

Percy let out a deep breath, leaning against the counter.

It wasn't that he didn't feel awful, because he did. Merlin knows that he did. He didn't want to lie or ignore the subject entirely. He didn't want to be like the bloody coward that he felt like. That he knew he was. It was going to come up again, he very well knew that. There would come a day where they would be searching for answers and there would be no way of avoiding it.

He knew that.

But how did one tell a child that her mother had run off without a second thought about them?

Percy continued to cook; every once and awhile, he'd glance on over at his girls as they rammed the firetrucks that were gifted to them from Harry into each other, making siren noises.

That night, when the girls were put to bed, he laid in his bedroom for the longest time and wept.

The topic didn't come up again until Molly was ready to attend Hogwarts. Even then, he'd frozen up when she came to him the night before, hesitantly and full of inquisitiveness. Without beating around the bush, she asked the same question Lucy had-the emotions swirling around within him just the same.

She just wanted to know, he had to accept that. It was natural. A smidgen of information, a piece of her who mother was and why she wasn't there. A flicker into a person of her life that was only there for a short time. Percy couldn't' fault her for that.

She hadn't wanted much. Growing up all those years without a mother in her life had hardened that part of her heart. She hadn't asked for a deep, thorough explanation, a reminiscing story of how they'd gotten together or really, much at all.

A picture.

That's it. A simple picture.

Percy did, indeed, have one. The only one of Audrey that he secretly kept. With a sigh, he flicked his wand, the item flying down the stairs and into his hand. He couldn't help but gaze at it as he gave it to Molly.

It was taken in the autumn of '98; as a matter of fact, he'd been the one to take the picture. He and Audrey had gone to a park on their third date. The season had changed and everything was bursting with radiance. The leaves were a beautiful shade of red and orange, flowing down as they fell to the ground. It was like a cascading waterfall. Audrey was beaming, a slight laugh escaping her from the thrill of it all.

Something happened inside of him, a small pang that he had to push through. He was no longer in love with her, but she was the first woman he'd fallen madly for and she was the mother of his children. She would always have a special place in him, even if that place wasn't the same after all these years.

Molly had been alright with that. She accepted the picture without much else being said between them, taking it to her bedroom where it was placed in a drawer-he thought. Honestly, he knew he got off easy on that and he was selfishly relieved.

It'd been years since she left, but she was still a tricky subject to talk about. He'd been so hurt and he didn't want his girls to have that same feeling, to have that ache because the realization of Audrey not wanting them would come eventually, even with him trying to delay it.

Or maybe, deep down, he was afraid. Afraid that with the knowledge their mother was out there-somewhere-they would embark on a mission to find her. To get some closure.

It was reasonable, but Percy didn't want to think abou it.

He'd tried to be more than enough for them. Taking on and fulfilling two roles, a role that Audrey had simply given up on. It was difficult and stressful and some days Percy wanted to scream because he was up to here with everything-but he would do anything for his children. He'd let them put a ridiculous amount of hair clips on him or a tiara to his head that would surely cut off his circulation one day. He would tackle every bad dream, every skinned knee, everything that made them shed a tear. He would listen and comfort them through any inevitable heartbreak of their own and help them get ready for any dates, assuring them repeatedly that they looked absolutely beautiful and their date would adore them.

His girls were his entire world. The bitterness, which at one point had consumed him, was long gone by now. But his protectiveness of them, especially when it came to the subject of her, would remain.

Lucy peeked around the wall into the living room. Percy was on the couch, engrossed in a novel he'd received as a birthday present. She knocked on the wall with her knuckles.

He glanced up.

"Hi, Daddy," she gave him a small smile. "Hope I didn't interrupt."

Shaking his head, he patted the seat next to him. "Not at all. Did you need something?"

She sat down, snuggling into his side. Out of both of his girls, Lucy was the one that didn't stray away from physical affection. Molly would let him hug her and give her a kiss on her cheek as a goodbye, then put on that facade of being embarrassed by it. He saw right through that-she would be quite upset if he neglected to do so.

"I mean," she began, unsurely, "if you're not busy..."

He closed the book. "Of course not," he reassured her. "I'm never too busy for you, girls."

She gave him another smile. "Okay."

Percy sensed something wasn't right. Lucy was chewing on her bottom lip and avoiding his eyes. He knew his daughters well enough, was aware of how they behaved when something was wrong and this certainly signalled that something was bothering her.

"You alright, Luce?"

She shrugged and he could practically see her mind overworking to come up with a response. "I just...I dunno. I just had a question."

"Alright," he said slowly, "what about, Sweetheart?"

She looked down at her lap. "Promise you won't get mad?"

"Lucy," Now he was concerned. He shifted himself a little to face her directly, studying her. "What's wrong, honey? You know you and your sister can talk to me about anything. Is it that boy you're seeing? Do I need to have a talk with him? You know boys at that age can be a little-"

"Dad," she said with a slight giggle, "it's not Dustin."

"Oh," he said, leaning back. "Well, alright, then." For good measure, to lighten things up, he added, "Well, he's lucky, then."

It'd worked. Lucy laughed, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.

"What?"

"It's true," Percy nodded, a mischievous smile on his lips. "I'm within my full right to hex any boy that upsets you or Molly."

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

He nudged her, playfully. "I could be worse. You remember how Uncle Bill was when Vic started dating?"

Bill had been regarded as the cool older brother for as long as Percy could remember. He and his younger siblings had idolized him. His laid back nature was one of the things that Percy had, admittedly, envied for a while. And he'd just assumed that when Bill was a parent, he'd have that same attitude.

However, a week after Vic came home from her third year of Hogwarts, there had been a letter addressed for her that she'd immediately taken to her room with a goofy grin on her face and sometime after, Bill had found out she'd been writing to a boy in her year-he'd been anything but cool.

He'd been adamantly against Vic dating, lamenting to Percy over a glass of firewhiskey over how his daughter was growing up too fast and he wished he could slow time down.

Of course, Percy understood. He sympathized-he did. His girls were interested in boys as well and he longed for those days when they would happily curl in his lap, snuggled against his chest as he read them a story of their choosing. But they had to grow up eventually and that's what he'd told Bill.

Lucy grimaced.

He laughed.

"Now, enough of that," he waved his hand, brushing at the air. "You've stalled long enough."

Just as he suspected, she grinned guiltily.

"Now, tell me," he said. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

She didn't speak for all of a minute. He watched a multitude of emotions cross her face all at once. Hesitancy. Apprehension. Uncertainty. Then, that familiar Gryffindor courage came shining out and she said so softly that he had to strain his ears, "It's about Mum."

Oh.

Oh.

"Yeah?" he said, managing to keep his voice steady while on the inside he was freaking out. His siblings would have told him that it was no big deal but that was completely incorrect to Percy. He thought it was a pretty bloody big deal. "What about her?"

He was taken back to that five year old, asking why she and Molly didn't have a mummy. She'd been wanting something earnest, nothing that should have been told to her as a child her age.

However, she was no longer that same five year. She'd grown into a quiet, thoughtful thirteen year old who was seeking the truth. Despite that Percy wasn't ready for it.

He just wasn't sure if he was ready, to open to letting that part of his life resurface after burying it for so long. Some things were better left unsaid, left tucked away instead of dwelling on the what if's and what could have been. It didn't mean that it hurt any less, because even after all this time, there were moments where he was laying in bed, staring up at his ceiling blankly and just wondering what if things had been different. What if right at that moment, Audrey was curled up next to him, snoring lightly, rather than an empty, cold side that he'd come accustomed to?

But this wasn't just about him anymore.

"Well," Lucy said, drawing out the word, "I, erm, I was wondering..."

She trailed off. Clearly, she wasn't sure how to proceed.

"What do you want to know?" he cut in, gently.

His baby girl was so relieved. Relaxed now, tension gone, sitting up straighter, looking him in the eye, determined. She was every bit of the Gryffindor that he knew she'd be. And he couldn't help but have one thought: Audrey should have been there to witness it, to see how wonderful their daughter was turning out to be.

"Everything," Lucy admitted.

"I see," he sighed. "Suppose I should start at the beginning, hmm?"

She listened, attentively.

"Alright, well, your Mum was a Ravenclaw when we were in school. Met her on the train; she was a first year when I was in my second. And since we were in different houses, we didn't see much of each other."

Lucy nodded. "Did you think she was pretty, when you met her?"

He let out a chuckle. "Well, I didn't think she was terrible looking, but at twelve, my eye wasn't on girls."

"What was it on?"

"Being named Prefect," Percy said, reminiscing to that summer before Ron's first year when he'd received his badge and a congratulations from Professor McGonagall. It'd been the happiest moment of his life. "Your Aunt and Uncles can attest, I was terribly insufferable at that time."

"Oh, I don't need them to tell me," Lucy teased.

"Hush, you," he commanded, jokingly before switching back to a more serious side. "Anyway, I didn't really talk to your mother until after Hogwarts, when we were working at the Ministry before your Uncle Harry got rid of You-Know-Who."

"When you weren't talking to anyone," Lucy said.

"Right." It was still unpleasant to think about. But everyone had already forgiven him and for that, he was eternally grateful. "Your Mum was a secretary in the department that I was working in. She used to bring me coffee sometimes after most people went home and it was just the two of us."

Lucy frowned. "But, Dad, you hate coffee."

"Despise it," he agreed. "But your mother didn't know that."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "So you just...drank it anyway?"

"Sort of. I'd get rid of it when she wasn't looking, usually."

"Why didn't you just tell her you didn't like it?" Lucy's eyes gleamed with amusement.

Honestly, he really should have.

"Luce, I'd only had one girl interested in me as a teenager and I didn't even know if Audrey fancied me at that time, so I'd tolerate a little coffee if it meant spending a few minutes with her."

"You know, Dad, that's almost romantic," Lucy grinned. "And kinda weird, coming from you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Percy said, dryly. "Anyway, yes, I tolerated it just so I could be with her and that worked until one day."

"What happened?" Lucy asked, eagerly.

"Audrey and I decided to walk down to the cafeteria to get our coffee together and on the way back up, we passed by a potted plant and honestly, I'd just wanted to get rid of it so I poured it in."

"And?"

"It started screaming," he shook his head at the memory and she covered her mouth to smother her giggles. "One of those talking pots, wouldn't you know it? Awful thing. I was so embarrassed but your mother thought it was hilarious and took to teasing me whenever the opportunity came to her."

"...Wow, Dad," Lucy couldn't stop the stream of laughter that was erupting from her. "Brilliant. What happened after that?"

"Well, it was quite a strange year. It wasn't really permissible to date amongst your co-workers but we snuck around it. She used to pull me in the broom closet quite a bit."

Lucy's face scrunched up at the thought. "Gross," she muttered.

Percy rolled his eyes fondly.

"Anyway. Sometime after that, I found out your Mum did, indeed, fancy me and we managed to have a few dates before getting together officially."

"Did you think she was pretty then?" Lucy probed.

Percy smiled softly, recalling that moment when he'd begun to see Audrey in a different light. "She was the prettiest girl I'd laid my eyes on."

"What'd she look like?" Lucy asked, relishing at being able to hear those intimate details.

"Like you," he caressed the silk blonde locks she'd inherited from her mother. "Blonde hair and she never took it out of her braid, either, if she could help it. She was about average height, I'd say. She only came up to my chest. Hmm, her eyes are hazel, though and I used to get lost in them often. I think she thought I was being cheesy when I said that, but I'd meant it."

Lucy nodded along, wearing a thoughtful expression. "I look like Mum," she whispered-he assumed-more to herself than to him.

"Except for your eyes," Percy said. "And your terrible eyesight. That's all me, I'm afraid. Your Mum's eyes are much better than mine are."

"So, she doesn't wear glasses, then."

"Well, I'm not certain about now but when we were together, no. Although, she did use to take mine to try them on," percy smiled wryly. "Thought it was the funniest thing."

"What was she like?" Lucy asked, after a beat of silence for her to ponder what she'd been told. "Does she like reading, too? Do me and her have anything else in common?"

"She was..." he searched for the most appropriate word, "unique. Very unique. Very much her own person. She was the kindest person I'd come across but she also wasn't afraid to stand up for herself. I think that's what attracted me to her in the first place. She was the opposite of myself, in many ways. I preferred to be alone for the most part and she relished in large groups. I could read for hours and she positively loathed to read and made it known on more than one occasion."

Percy paused. "Before we even began to get more comfortable around each other, your Mum had taken to embarrassing me on purpose."

Lucy cracked a grin. "How?"

"Oh, many ways. The plant gave her an idea so she charmed my chair in my office to say some rather...interesting things whenever I sat down. Oh, and there was this one time where, for nearly a month, she would greet me rather obnoxiously whenever she saw me."

"Did she make you laugh?" Lucy asked, curiously.

"Quite often," Percy said, reminiscing back to those very times. "Of course, that was after we began to talk. I was quite irritated by her presence when she first arrived."

"Why?"

"Well, I said I was quite insufferable," Percy said with a chuckle. "It was a difficult year, too. Strange and difficult. Finding out I'd been wrong about my job then later finding out Professor Dumbledore was dead-not to mention everything else after."

Lucy nodded wordlessly.

"But anyway. She was the complete opposite of myself, as I said, and she was always doing things unorthodox. Think she was trying to wind me up on purpose and I must say, it worked majority of the time," Percy's chest ached, drifting back into those old memories he'd been suppressing. Her grin that had once made his stomach flip flop was becoming vivid in his mind once again. "Really, I couldn't stand her at first, if I'm being honest. She was a right pain in the bum and it wasn't until one night she brought me a coffee because she said I'd been working too hard-that I finally noticed her."

"Here. Take this. You look like dragion dung."

"That's hardly an appropriate way to speak to your co-workers during hours."

"Oh, I see it now. You're one of those uppity types, aren't ya?"

He'd been rendered speechless by her sheer audacity; no one had spoken to him in that way since he'd first started working at the Ministry.

"Enjoy your coffee, Percy Weasley. And try not to tie your tie so tight next time. Cuts off air to your brain. Makes ya cranky. Like now."

"Dad?"

Lucy's voice brought him out of his daydream.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Why did she leave?"

Percy took a good, long look at his daughter. Her eyes, so full of wonder and defeat; her face worn in a way that should never have been.

And he hated it.

Hated what Audrey had brought on by her own selfishness.

"It's complicated, Lucy," he eventually settled on.

"How?" her voice was sharper. "How's it complicated?"

Percy kissed her temple, soothing rubbing a hand down her back. "You have to understand; your Mum and I...Audrey and I got married fairly quick after the war."

"I know that," Lucy's voice was now tinged with impatience. "Uncle George said you were the second one, after Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur."

"There was a reason for that," he took a deep breath. "You see, Luce, after the war, we just...we all wanted some normalcy back. It was so tough for so long that we just wanted to feel something familiar again. So, we got married and tried to make life go on again."

He continued, "It was okay for a while. We were happy. Audrey got along with everyone fine and I was slowly talking to the family again. I thought everything was going to be okay again."

"But it wasn't," Lucy said, knowingly.

"No," he agreed. "It wasn't. Your Mum and I started having rows after Molly was born. We'd never really fought before that and then suddenly we were screaming at each other left and right."

That was the most unpleasant phase of his marriage. The one where they'd gotten past being comfortable with each other and had gone on to nitpicking at everything. He could admit, shamefully, some of his worst offences where when he was exhausted from a day's work and came home, scolding Audrey for trivial things, such as leaving a window or a cabinet door open.

But he admitted to his rather poor behavior. Audrey, more often than not, made countless excuses, stating numerously of her disdain on staying home to watch over Molly.

Initially, he believed it to be hormones from her pregnancy. His Mum had said that she still might be moody after giving birth. So, he brushed it off and when time came for her maternity leave to finish, he'd thought-given her complaining-she would go back. But with an angry fling of her arms, she informed him-bitterness stinging her tone-that she was intending to quit her job so they didn't have to worry about a babysitter.

That was when the storm began to roll in.

"Do you regret it?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Getting married?" he clarified.

Did he?

In the short time he and Audrey were together, so many beautiful memories had become woven in his mind. Ones that'd he cherish. If only now things were different, better circumstances, but while the marriage itself hadn't worked out, she had given him the two most precious gifts anyone had given him.

"No," he assured, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "Because I've got you and your sister and I'd do it all over again if I had the chance."

"You mean it?" she asked, insecurely.

"I mean it," he affirmed. "Is there anything else you want to know?"

"Yes." Percy recognized the pointedness of which she spoke. "You still haven't told me why she left."

"Right," he mumbled. He rubbed at his chin. "Well, I'm going to be truthful, Luce, but I don't want you to dwell on it."

She nodded.

She was doing that a lot. Then again, what else was she to do?

"Your Mum wasn't happy being a wife and a mother," he admitted.

Lucy kept her gaze downward. "Did she tell you that?"

"She didn't have to."

Much as she tried to keep up the pretense, Percy had begun to see through it as the months passed from Molly's birth. She didn't have that gentle, nurturing aura to her and would frequently snap at little Molly for crying too much or showing blatant favoritism by the way she would instantly calm down in Percy's arms when she'd previously been wailing in Audrey's.

(Percy had nearly snorted at her claim that their baby was somehow favoring him, but he held it back when Audrey's eyes practically had fire coming from them).

He'd brought his concerns to his parents, in hopes that they could share some wisdom to help them through it. It was the war, they said, she must be struggling. They were of the belief that Audrey would get accustomed to parenthood eventually, that she'd merely gotten off on a rocky start.

But it didn't get better.

"She was impatient," Percy recalled. "Not very eager to witness Molly's milestones. Think she was resentful that she'd done it all so quick."

He hadn't known the correct way to approach the delicate subject with her, without sounding accusatory or making her believe that she was an awful mother. He'd come across her holding a sleeping Molly in her lap, with one arm over her middle to keep her from falling.

It proved that she was capable of acting motherly when she didn't let her temper fly off so easily.

He'd thought, or maybe he'd merely been fooling himself to feel better about the situation that he'd tried so hard to avoid, things would get better.

He'd thought that she was genuinely glad when she found out she was pregnant with Lucy.

She never indicated anything else, nothing to suggest that she was dismayed by it. She was there to pick out colors for the nursery, to decorate it with some stuffed animals and had snickered when Percy failed miserably trying to put together the crib by hand.

But then, as the months passed, the due date inching closer, she became a little more withdrawn. Any pleasant mood or smile would wipe away at the mention of the baby. She quit participating in any talk about it altogether.

It left an uneasy feeling swirling in Percy's stomach. Though, he tried to convince himself that it was just nerves. She'd be alright once the baby came.

She didn't.

"Did she even love us?" Lucy expressed her doubt.

I don't even know, myself.

"I wish I could tell you," Percy adjusted Lucy's glasses for her, they'd slipped down to her nose."I wish I could say she loved you both dearly-and maybe she did, deep down-but the truth is, I don't know."

"Oh," Lucy mumbled.

"But I love you," it didn't matter that she obviously knew that, he would reiterate it to them so he knew that they knew it. "And that's never going to change."

"I know, Dad," she said, gratefully. "I love you, too."

He ruffled her hair.

"I just have one more question."

"Ask away," he told her.

"When did Mum leave?"

"Shortly after we took you home from St. Mungos," he said, heavily sighing. "Your Mum, she was...acting quite strange. She wouldn't touch you and I was so busy trying to take care of you and keep Molly out of trouble I-" His words caught in his throat.

"You what?" Lucy said, concerned.

"I didn't even notice the empty wardrobe," he said with a slight, humorless laugh. "She'd left. Nearly two weeks after you were born and she left while I was changing you. I didn't even hear here, didn;t even get to say goodbye."

Lucy took his hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

"She left me a note, explaining everything. I'm glad you and your sister don't remember. I-I didn't know what to do with myself. I was terrified of letting you both down."

Lucy looked scandalized. "You could never let us down, Daddy!"

He smiled softly. "Thank you, Princess."

They sat there, silently, each drifting off into their own thoughts.

"How long did it take, you know, before it got better?"

He'd expected that question.

"A while," he said, truthfully. "It took a great deal of time to stop feeling so bitter. There were days I didn't want to get out of bed but I had to, because I had you girls to care for."

"So," Lucy's voice had taken on a slightly teasing tinge-that he suspected was to break up the tension and honestly, he was grateful for that, "technically, that means you owe us, right? Because otherwise you would've stayed in bed and probably looked like Uncle Charlie when he goes months without shaving."

A teeny smirk found its way on his lips. "Perhaps."

"So, like a new broom owe us or extra hour till curfew owe us?" Lucy grinned.

"Or," he chuckled, "how about I overlook the fact that Uncle George found you and that boy kissing in the back of the shop last week?" He raised his eyebrows when she smiled sheepishly.

"We'll go with that."

"I thought so," he checked his wristwatch. He ought to get dinner started by now before Molly came to moan that she was positively starving. "And maybe a stop at that muggle pizza place is fine, to."

"You're the best," Lucy kissed his cheek, jumping to her feet to inform Molly of their plans.

"And don't forget it!" he called to her.

He was getting up when she stepped back into the room, looking far more lighter than she had when she first came to him.

"Dad?"

"Yes?" He looked at her.

"Thanks," she said sincerely. "I know I don't appreciate you enough but I promise, I'll do better. You really are the best."

She left, making all sorts of racket as she ran up the stairs, hollering to her sister.

A warm sensation filled his whole body. He'd doubted for so long that he was doing the right thing, fretting and comparing himself to all those other parents that seemed to have it all together-

But his little girl thought he was the best.

And that was alright with him.

[hati-writes]

Harry Potter and the Family who Loved him

What would have happened if Harry Potter had got the family he deserved, one that loved and supported and protected him no matter what? Maybe something like this...

When Harry Potter was three years old his uncle locked him out of the house at ten o'clock in the evening because he’d spilt a glass of orange juice across the floor. A passing stranger saw the toddler sitting on the front doorstep and shivering and called the police. Half an hour later Harry Potter had been officially removed from the Dursley’s custody.

Upon hearing of this Dumbledore immediately got involved, Harry Potter needed protection and he needed it immediately. The authorities wouldn’t hear of the child going back to his Aunt and Uncle’s home and, forced to think very quickly of a suitable foster family for a young toddler who needed to be out of the media, raised well and, most importantly, protected; Dumbledore turned up on Arthur Weasley’s doorstep at six in the morning with a tired and confused three year old by his side.

Harry Potter grew up surrounded by family and love and the confident feeling of being wanted. He had a twin brother, a younger sister and five older brothers along with a mother and father who never let him feel he wasn’t a part of their family.

Ron Weasley grew up with a twin brother, a best friend who he spent all of his time with. Together they tried and failed to play pranks on their brothers, argued happily about Quidditch teams, learned to cook with their mother and always had someone to rely on.

Harry’s first accidental magic occurred when he was six years old and woke up with bright red hair to match the rest of his family. His excitement was overwhelming and only matched by his disappointment when it faded back to black after a few hours. He spent the next few months begging his mother to let him dye his hair until she finally relented and charmed it as ginger as Ron’s for him.

No one ever noticed Harry Potter when he went out in public, not when he was just another red headed Weasley child running about with his brothers. Harry grew up as a perfectly normal child, aware of the Wizarding world and confident of his place in it.

When his Hogwarts Letter arrived addressed to a ‘Harry Potter’, Arthur Weasley sat down with Harry Weasley and explained how his birth parents had been killed by You Know Who and how Dumbledore had brought Harry to them. He reassured his son that he was still absolutely and one hundred percent his son, how Harry would never stop being his and Molly’s son no matter what. Harry went to bed with a lot of mixed feelings, but still never needing to doubt that he had a family who loved him.

Hagrid had kept in touch with Harry all his life and, when he bumped into the Weasley’s doing their annual school shop insisted on buying Harry an owl to congratulate him on reaching eleven years old. To make it fair he also bought Ron a set of gobstones and clapped them both so hard on the back the brothers almost fell over.

When his trust vault was revealed to him at Gringotts Harry was determined to give it all to his family. Molly was equally determined that Harry would not give away his inheritance. After a long argument when Molly told Harry he would need to save for his future and Harry retorted that his mother had given him so much and he finally had the chance to give something back they managed to compromise. Harry would buy all his siblings school supplies each year but would not pay rent or any other money to his parents. Ron started his Hogwarts career with new robes and a brand new wand. When Draco Malfoy came to sneer at them on the train he asked which of them was the famous Harry Potter; and Ron and Harry Weasley just laughed at him.

It took Harry a moment to realise that McGonagall was calling him up at the Sorting Feast, having been waiting for the end of the alphabet and he felt his stomach twist. He’d half believed Fred and George when they’d said you had to wrestle a troll, and had been relieved it was just a hat, but now half wished it could be a troll instead, how could he show a hat he was brave enough for Gryffindor? He wanted to make his parents proud and get into the House all Weasley’s were in, to show the world he was really a part of that family. The flood of relief as the hat shouted ‘GRYFFINDOR’ to the school was indescribable.

When Snape faced down the first year Gryffindor’s he didn’t see a miniature James Potter looking up at him. Instead he saw Lily’s bright green eyes flanked with messy red hair and almost did a double take. He didn’t treat Harry any better than any other Gryffindor, but he couldn’t bring himself to treat him any worse either. Not when he seemed to see Lily looking at him reproachfully from the eleven year old’s eyes. Instead he avoided him as much as possible and never set him a single detention. He still took plenty of points however, and his bullying of Neville certainly made Harry and Ron hate him well enough.

Charlie Weasley had taught Harry to fly a broom when he was five years old, impressed with his little brother’s skill. When Draco grabbed Neville’s Remembrall and flew away there wasn’t a moment of hesitation before Harry was following him up. The dive for the small sphere was no different from the apples he had practised Seeking with with Charlie and he caught it with time to spare. He was terrified when Professor McGonagall came storming out, but being put on the Quidditch team was a dream come true and he almost burst with excitement. Molly and Arthur were incredibly proud of their son and sent him a new broom, a Cleansweep Five. Secondhand of course, but Harry treasured it more than anything else he owned.

Hermionie had been fascinated by the chance to meet Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and then confused when he angrily corrected her that he was Harry Weasley, and Ron was his twin brother. She had struggled with making friends, and Ron’s accusations of being a Know It All who no one liked had stung. It wasn’t until Halloween came, and Ron and Harry came to save her from a troll that she found herself with two new friends, twin brothers. She never failed to refer to Harry as a Weasley after that, understanding his desire to be publically seen as part of his family.

They all still suspected Snape when Harry’s broom went haywire at the Quidditch match, and Hagrid revealed slightly too much about Fluffy and Nicholas Flamel. Searching for Flamel took simple ages, although Harry debated simply asking Percy for a long time. He knew Percy was very good at knowing which wizards had achieved great things recently, and he would certainly know who Flamel was. They decided that the secrecy was too important in the end, but it was a close call.

At Christmas Harry received a Weasley jumper, the same as he had been given at every Christmas for as long as he could remember. He complained that his mum always gave him emerald green, just because it matched his eyes. He and Ron swapped their jumpers and dug into the sweets and other gifts from the rest of their large family. Their present piles were exactly the same height. The only difference was the invisibility cloak from an unknown gifter.

He shared the cloak immediately with Ron of course, but after a moment of thought he also let the twins borrow it occasionally. McGonagall was driven half mad by the sudden increase in impossible pranks Fred and George were capable of. In return Fred and George lent them a map that they’d found in their first year, one that showed the position of all the people in the school as well as every secret passage.

While prowling around the school under his cloak Harry ran from Snape into an empty classroom and found a mirror that showed images that could not possibly be true. He stood reflected in the mirror, Ron next to him with his arm across Harry’s shoulder and Molly and Arthur stood behind them both. Flanking Molly and Arthur was a dark haired man Harry had only seen in photos that his parents had shown him and a woman with bright green eyes exactly like Harry’s. His brothers were there too, and all his extended family...more than his extended family. As he stared he saw that, mixed among the Weasley relatives he already knew, were people he’d never met but who must be related to him...more brilliant green eyes, knobbly knees just like Harry’s, a shy smile like the one in the family photo Molly kept up in the living room. Harry leaned against the mirror, staring at the family he loved, and the family he had never had a chance to know.

He brought Ron there the next night, Ron who saw himself as Quidditch Captain, and Harry standing next to him as Head Boy, both of them holding up the House Cup and standing out from all their family and, even more importantly, standing together. They visited the next night too, and the one after that despite Ron’s misgivings, until Dumbledore arrived and warned them both away.

When Norbert arrived Harry thought of Charlie immediately, having grown up listening to Charlie’s obsession with the beasts and well knowing where his second oldest brother was and what he was doing. It took a long time to persuade Hagrid however, and getting rid of Norbert was so stressful Hermionie and Harry forgot the invisibility cloak at the top of the tower. But Harry found the anger of the school for the lost points was easier to deal with when his family had his back no matter what. Fred and George reminded him of all the times they’d lost huge amounts of points, Charlie wrote a letter apologising for being involved with the scheme that got his youngest brothers shunned. Even Percy admitted that it seemed a harsh punishment just for being caught out of bed.

Ron felt overwhelmingly guilty when Harry and Hermione went into the Forbidden Forest, he actually asked McGonagall if he could share their detention, just because he couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to his twin while he wasn’t there. They hadn’t been apart for as long as they could remember. McGonagall refused to let him however, and he sat up the entire night, waiting for his best friend and his brother to return. And when they did he wished even more that he’d been there to help somehow.

Exams came and went, and the mystery of the Philosopher's Stone continued to nag at Harry, Ron and Hermione. They began using the Map to keep an eye on the Third Floor Corridor, trying to see if Snape was attempting to break in and subdue Fluffy. Finally exams were over, just as Harry realised the significance of Norbert’s egg, that Snape now knew how to get past Fluffy and that the Stone was in danger of being taken by Voldemort. Dumbledore was gone and the trio decided they had to save the Stone themselves.

Sneaking out at night, stopping Neville from revealing their plan, Harry took comfort in having Ron and Hermionie with him. They used the map to check if Snape was in his office and then began their journey. Harry was supremely confident when catching the key, after years of flying lessons, and he proudly boasted of Ron’s skills at chess when they reached the room with the giant board. Unfortunately Ron sacrificed himself and Harry and Hermionie continued on alone. Hermionie was left behind in the potion room and Harry continued on without anyone to come with him at all.

He faced Quirrell, faced the spectre that had been haunting his nightmares, the twisted, evil face of Voldemort himself. He took comfort in the knowledge that Ron would be fine, that his family would come looking for him no matter what, that Voldemort may have taken his parents away from him once, but Harry still had a family and parents who loved him. He kept that thought in his mind as Quirrell lunged at him, the love he had for both his families, the one that had died saving him, and the one that had raised him. He thought of them as Quirrel screamed, and as firely pain swept over Harry, sending him falling into unconsciousness.

Molly was distraught when the school contacted her to say that both her youngest sons had been injured, and one was still in a magical coma from it all. She tore down to the school immediately to check on them, and was only reluctantly persuaded away by Dumbledore’s reassurance that Harry would be fine after some rest. She didn’t sleep easily until Harry woke up and wrote to her to tell her that he really was fine and she didn’t need to worry anymore. She wondered how to tell him that she would never be able to stop worrying about any of her children, no matter how old they got.

The Feast was spectacular, especially when Gryffindor won against all the odds. Harry thought it might be his happiest memory from a life filled with good, happy memories. He hugged Ron and they both got swamped by the rest of Gryffindor House, all screaming with delight.

On the way to the train home, Hagrid stopped Harry, giving him a photo album. When he opened it to the first page, James and Lily smiled up at him from their wedding. On the next page, he stared at Molly and Arthur dancing and laughing at their wedding. Photos of the Potter’s at school were side by side with photos of the Weasleys. Both his families; put together. Speechless, Harry stared up at Hagrid, and impulsively threw his arms around the Gamekeeper. Unable to express his gratitude with words, he hoped Hagrid understood. Judging by the way Hagrid hugged him back, and the soft smile he gave the eleven year old, he understood perfectly.

Harry got on the train, to head back to the only home he knew, a ramshackle tall building in the country, with a lawn full of gnomes, a broom shed in the apple orchard and the largest most loving and perfect family Harry could imagine. He couldn’t wait to see what next year would hold for him.

[conceptstage]

There and Back Again

AO3

One thing that you learn when you live for a thousand years is that, yes everyone you love will die and leave you eventually, but sometimes they come back. She doesn’t know why some souls come back and others don’t. Maybe it’s a reward for doing good things? Maybe it’s because that particular soul is needed again?

Grog died in 846 PD. Killed by some kind of mutant lion-treant creature that was terrorizing a small village outside of Vasselheim. It was mutual destruction and both Grog and creature died in that clearing. When Pike found him a few days later, worried when he hadn’t come home, she found him with a smile on his face.

Pike and Scanlan’s youngest child, Groggie, was born in 868 PD. His given name was Reginald and Scanlan tried to get everyone to call him Reggie for short but, as he grew, people began to call him Groggie because he just reminded them all so much of their late goliath friend. Scanlan took him to a bar once to watch his big sister Kaylie perform and, long story short, his first word was ‘ale’. He was never the smartest gnome in the world, though Pike insisted he learn how to read, but he had the biggest heart. That was when Keyleth started to get suspicious. He was too much like Grog for it to be an accident.

Percy died of old age peacefully in his sleep in 882 PD. The entire city of Whitestone had a month of mourning with the Whitestone flag flown at half mast and the citizens of the city brought flowers and gifts to lay at the base of the clock tower he’d built. Keyleth used magic to keep the flowers alive for longer and Vex donated the gifts to a local children’s home.

In the year 1023 PD, Keyleth heard tale of a young half elf inventor living in Zadash with the crazy idea of a steam engine locomotive that would allow people to travel from one side of the country to the other in no time at all. Apparently he spent everyday for an entire year petitioning the local government for an investment and a team to help him build it and Keyleth knew only one soul in the world with that kind of annoyingly endearing tenacity. She only met him once, a dark haired half elf with blue eyes full of ideas and a heart that was a little darker than most people expected of someone so bright. 

She gave him all the money that he needed to start his locomotive and sent him funding for the rest of his life to create all the ideas he had, even the dangerous ones. By the time he died in the year 1181, he had more inventions to his name than any before him and all the biographies mentioned something about a mysterious benefactor who believed in him. He lit the world with bulbs of light and revolutionized land transportation and warfare and communication and all the books agreed that he couldn't have done any of it without the nameless benefactor’s funding and encouragement.

He called her Auntie Kiki in his letters and it made her cry every time.

Scanlan died in the year 1187 PD. His last words were a joke about how he hadn’t expected to live for so long because he’d always expected Pike to kill him a long time ago. She didn’t laugh but the look she gave him, slightly dubious despite the tears running down her face, made him wheeze in laughter.

In the year 102 AR (Age of Resurgence) Keyleth heard a deep, half-orc voice on the radio singing the story of Vox Machina. Most tellings of the story were dark and sad and played up the tragedy of it all and after awhile she couldn’t stand to listen to them. But this storyteller understood that Vox Machina had been more than heroes, they’d been a family. She laughed at his jokes and listened enraptured as if she’d never heard the story before and she cried when it was over.

She never learned his name, he went by a stage name on his radio show, but she was positive down to her toes that it was Scanlan’s soul back again.

Vex died in the year 973 PD. She came to Zephra to die and Keyleth was never sure why. She’d said her goodbyes to her children and grandchildren, she’d said her goodbyes to the gnomes, and then she asked Keyleth to Tree Stride her to Zephra to die in the place her other half loved the most. Keyleth held her until it was over then she took her home to be buried next to her husband.

In the year 16 AR, Keyleth visited the Water Ashari to celebrate the completed Aramente of their new Heart of the Tides. She knew the moment she saw her who she was. She was a beautiful druid woman with dark eyes full of kindness and adventure who spent the entire evening looking for an excuse to wild shape into something with wings. Vex had always loved to fly.

She wasn’t sure when or how Pike had died. After Scanlan’s death she’d gone on a pilgrimage and had just never returned. Scrying revealed little, only that she was in a dark cavern somewhere in Wildmount. They held a funeral for her anyway and buried an empty coffin in the de Rolo family crypt.

Keyleth didn’t meet her again until the year 245 AR on her own deathbed. She’d come to believe that Pike just never would come back. Maybe there was something keeping her on the other side, maybe she came back but Keyleth just never found her. She wasn’t sure, but she hadn’t given up hope.

She looked up when the doctor came in, a young, white haired, red skinned tiefling girl whose cherubic face made Keyleth smile in her last moments. “Good morning, Madam Tempest. I’m your new doctor, Doctor Lavorre.”

Keyleth smiled kindly. “A new doctor? But I’m dying.”

The young doctor’s face turned down in sadness but her words were comforting. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

Keyleth chuckled. “Why? I’m not. I have lived a very long life, Doctor. It’s time to pass the mantle on to someone else. So, you’re a smart young woman, why did they send you to take care of a dying old woman?”

The doctor cleared her throat and met Keyleth’s eyes. “I am especially good at… bringing people comfort when they pass on. And, I’m afraid, your time is coming quickly.”

“I know.” She sighed but she was still smiling. “And I don’t need comfort. I’ve had a long time to think about this day and I’m ready.”

The Doctor hesitated, unsure how to handle comforting a woman so long lived and at peace as The Voice of the Tempest. “You are going to see everyone you love again,” she said. She must have seen doubt on Keyleth’s face because she frowned. “You don’t think so?”

“I… I am not sure which of them are on the other side right now. Maybe I will see them again. Maybe they didn’t wait for me.” Her eyes felt weak and fell closed. The doctor’s soft hand took her own and squeezed. “And maybe I’ll come back as someone else too. I think I’d make a good goliath.” She laughed at her own private joke and the doctor started rubbing the back of her hand with her thumb. The doctor stayed with her in silence for an hour and she whispered “Thanks Pikie” as she faded away.

[mariamermaid]

Savage

Luke Castellan x Fem Reader

Words: 7.3k

Summary: Born as a child from the God Janus and a young witch, you had a good life hidden away from all the stress, demigods have usually to face. However, when your mother decides to go through a longer trip in Asia, in order to ban a demon, you´re shipped to the half-blood camp.

A/N: Inspired by the song “Savage” by Bahari. I actually wanted to write this for so loongg, however I´m not too familiar with the Percy Jackson fandom, so no judging please ;)

Warnings: Smoking, drinking, implied smut

 ———–

The sun was already rising, you had awoken late, in the early afternoon. The apartment laid in silence, but you immediately knew that something was wrong. You felt the vibrations, the breath of another being here. Not wasting any time, you jumped out of your bed and twirled to get dressed. Then trying to be as quiet as possible, you walked down the stairs. However, when you saw Chiron, the obnoxious leader of the half-blood camp, you relaxed again. He wasn´t a threat to you.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn´t you knock before entering?” He was sat at the table in the dinning area, which was separated from the kitchen by a thin wall with a large window. The kitchen counter was half filled by plants and glass bottles of potions. Long plants hung from the ceiling and a huge shelf held various spices and ingredients for potions and spells. He sat there peacefully, waiting for your arrival.

He was cloaked by his normal centaur figure, sitting there as a normal looking man. You felt the crying from the crystal around his neck that tried so hard to disguise him. A rather sad attempt at modern magick.

“Y/n, so nice to see you again.” You rolled your eyes at his empty greeting. “I asked you a question.”

“A real pleasure.” He repeated and eyed you through the open window to the kitchen area, where you just made a tea. “I´m gonna ask you one more time; what do you want? Don´t test my patience.” You growled and threw a mad look at him while continuing to heat the water. “The last time I´ve seen you, you were just a little girl.” The spoon you had just fetched, fell to the ground. You didn´t want to hear his well thought speech and a wind began to play. The kettle of the water began to whistle as strands of your hair flew back and several knives from the kitchen counter, started lifting off the ground as well. They hovered in the air in front of Chiron, who tried his best to act not too surprised. You raised your eyebrow at him, waiting. He tried his best to hide his surprise, but your powers outstood everything he had seen before. No wonder it had taken so long to find you…

“Your mother isn´t here.”

“She´ll be back soon.”

“You´re not an adult, you know what that means? In order to ensure your protection, we need to bring you to the camp.”

The knives slowly flew back and the spoon from the ground came into your fingers again. “I don´t need your protection.” Finally, he stood up and came to the counter. You had only seen him a few times as a child, but his movement didn´t seem as fluent. He wasn´t used to the human body. “I know, but this isn´t my decision. The gods have decided so, you´re father wants you there, at least until your birthday.”

“My father doesn´t know what´s best for me, he doesn´t know me.” You sighed and sipped from your tea. “And I don´t need him, I´m not one of your fosterlings, I don´t need his or your recognition.”

***

It wasn´t your decision and you knew, you just couldn´t take the anger from the gods on you.

“I think you´ll like it here, maybe you even make some friends.” Chiron explained as he led you through the gates to the camp. The tall trees offered protection and you felt the invisible wall as you entered. Chiron´s figure appeared back to his centaur and he grew above you. He seemed to relax as well now. You knew it wouldn´t be too hard to sneak away, the wall protection spell was simple to break. But even you had to admit, the nature was indeed beautiful. You lived with your mother in an apartment in New York, but you were a witch, the nature was just a part of you. But all you could do now was hope that the next weeks would pass quickly.

“This is Percy, son of Poseidon, he´ll show you around. Percy was your age and even you had heard a few stories from his adventures, and he held out his hand. You took it rather pressured to do so. He greeted you and smiled brightly. He was a little taller than you, not much with dark brown hair and greenish eyes. He starred at you, then blinked until he finally greeted you. “Hi, I´m Percy.” You only nodded; he knew your name anyway. Chiron exchanged looks with Percy, you knew what they meant; keep an eye on her. But Percy was way too focused on admiring you. You always had a certain presence, blessed by witches and cursed by gods. You were an usual companion as a half god, you didn´t meet their standards, you completely crushed them.

I am the sun

You know you need me

You make it burn

“So, I heard you´re the daughter of Janus?” Percy had unsuccessfully tried to make some small talk and you had always given a bored answer, however he was determined not to give up. The son of Poseidon was ambitious, even you had to admit, but for your taste he was too devoted to the gods liking. You nodded silently as you walked through the different cabins in the camp. “I actually don´t know much about him.” “He´s not an active member of the Olympic.” You explained shrugging. “What does he do again?” You couldn´t overhear Percy´s slight arrogance. With a father as famous as his, he had a clear reputation. “He´s the good of doors, beginnings, transitions and time.” “And do you have siblings?” “Not that I know of.” Percy chuckled. “I don´t want to bum you, but you probably have a sibling somewhere.” He paused to wait for an action, but you kept quiet. “I have a brother myself, didn´t know about him as well.” “Tyson, I know.” Percy furrowed his brows. “You know, how?” “I´ve met him in a bar.” Percy stopped so abrupt, you almost laughed. “What?”

You grinned devilishly; they were all so innocent to you. “Nothing special, we just shared a beer while I waited for a vampire friend of mine.” “You have a vampire friend?!” Now even Percy sounded truly surprised. They were all advised to keep away from any other mythological creatures. “I wouldn´t necessarily call him a friend; he´s more an associate.”

It was your time to smile innocently at him and fluttered your eyelashes, then you shook your head, clearly amused by his confusion. You were so different from the other half gods, so independent and self-assure. Usually when people joined the camp, they are all unsure of who they are and where they´re from.

You sighed and pulled out a metal container of cigarettes. “You don´t mind, do you?”

“That kills you, you know that?”

You leaned forward as you light your cigarette, then took a puff before whispering in his ear. “This place kills me.”

If you take too much

Don´t get addicted

 You had been at the camp for almost two days, it was dead boring. You pleased to eat alone, usually you took the food and left the cabin to ate at the lake. Many tried to approach you at first, but after some hard rejections, they all slowly left you alone. Annabeth still tried to talk you into training with her, you only smiled and shook your head. It was on your third day, when you peacefully read a book and several boys started sword fighting right in front of you. The arena had been quiet, so you had assumed to have some peace. You were wrong.

Percy tagged along with them and he waved at you, you only smiled politely and then concentrated back on your book. “History of the salem witches, from covens and cults.”

“You know they´re doing this for you?” You almost jumped at the sudden voice from behind you, it was a new voice. You turned to find a young, blonde man behind you. He had high cheekbones and icy blue eyes. “Too bad I won´t give them attention.”

He nodded. “Too bad.”

You grew interested and the feeling of knowing him crept on you. But you didn´t ask.

“Why don´t you train with them?”

“It´s boring to always win.” You let out a rough chuckle. “Sounds cocky.”

“If you say so.” He stood up from the rows of benches and left the arena, you watched him cautiously. When you turned back, Percy made his way to you.

“What did he say to you?” He sounded harsh and truly worried.

“Who is he?” Percy let out a nervous laugh. “That´s Luke, Luke Castellan.”

“Son of Hermes? That explains a lot.” You exclaimed and continued to stare at the direction, he had just disappeared.  “He´s was granted asylum here.” Percy further exclaimed, he seemed very worried. But you barely listened until he grabbed your wrist. “Y/n, you might not be a fan of this camp, but stay away from him, he´s bad.”

 ´Cause I´m gonna fade you like a rush

Is that blood on me or blush?

So what?

 The half-blood camp had the tradition to have bonfires every few weeks. It was something everyone looked forward to and even you decided to join. Well, Annabeth talked you in to it. She approached you after the lunch that day. “Hey Y/n!” She greeted you as she caught up to you. “Do you know what you´re wearing tonight?” You shrugged. “Is there some kind of dress code?” Annabeth shook her head, but then she laughed. “No, but everyone likes to dress up a little, you know?” “What do you wear then?” You asked more curiously now, she shrugged. It was your time to laugh and your head fell back. “Don´t worry, I think I´ll find something for us!”

About two hours later, your entire cabin was a mess. Clothes, jewelry and make laid all around. Annabeth had wondered, but the more you pulled out of your awfully small suitcase, the more she realized that it was a spell. “You seriously took your entire closet with you, didn´t you?” She asked grinning. “Not the entire one, just the important stuff.” You added, but then erupted in laughter.

Annabeth wore a top with ruffles and a high waisted skirt, while you had settled on a black dress. “Can I just say, your dress screams witchy”, she laughed and you eyed yourself in the mirror. “Well I am a witch, aren´t I?” You grinned. “You don´t look bad yourself.” Annabeth blushed, but then nodded agreeing. “I have to warn you by the way.” You raised an eyebrow and checked your makeup on more time. “Grover usually spicks the punchbowl.” You laughed. “Does Chiron know?”

Annabeth shook her head. “As much as he tries to protect us, he stays away from the bonfires. However, I´m pretty sure that Dionysos knows, he just likes partying too much.”

“If that´s what you call a party, we have to go out in New York.” You added sounding overly dramatic. Annabeth sighed. “I wish we could.”

You sighed as well and sat down on the bed next to her. “Why can´t we?”

“We´re not allowed to leave the camp without permission.” “But you snuck out, didn´t you? With Percy when the lighting was stolen, right?” Annabeth nodded but she seemed bummed. “Yes, but we had no other choice. It was important.” You grew annoyed and jumped off the bed again. “And that´s the reason why my mother didn´t want me to come her!” Annabeth was surprised by your sudden outburst, but you continued. “You all get trained her, but if it comes down to the real world, and don´t take this personal, you are all hopelessly lost. You get taught that it´s so important because you´re parents are these gods, but why should they define you? Hate to say it, but most gods are real assholes!” Annabeth started laughing again. “I know!” She exclaimed and you huffed. “But don´t worry, next week we´ll sneak out and go clubbing!”

She let out an excited scream and grabbed your arms. “You can do that?” “I´m a witch, aren´t I?”

When you arrived at the bonfire party, you both looked stunning. The summer nights were gone and you both wore jackets that featured your outfits. You noticed Percy eyeing you and Annabeth from afar and nudged her side. “You and Percy?” You asked her whispering, but she avoided your glance and was greeted by a few other girls from the camp. You on the other hand made your way to the wooden table where the punchbowl and some snacks were placed. Behind the table waited Percy and Grover.

“Hello Boys”, you greeted them and winked at Grover. “Grover, you wouldn´t mind to pour me some of your famous bowl, would you?” Grover almost stepped over his own feet in order to bring you the cup and you grinned satisfied with your entrance. “You look amazing”, Percy added now as well. You smiled, this time more genuine. “Thanks.”

A few loud screams interrupted your eye contact and the three of you watched as a few guys started sword fighting again. You knew it was you, who drove them crazy. Well, a small bottle of your favorite perfume Odeur d´amour  also helped, one of the oldest witch tricks of them all.

“I could win, if I wanted”, Grover suddenly added and you noticed that he must have had a few cups for now. “Then why don´t you show me?” You asked sweetly and Grover didn´t wait for you to ask a second time. With enthusiastic jumps he made his way to the crowd. You chuckled and drowned the cup in a go, just to turn back to Percy. “You should join him.”

“I know that you´re not interested in those guys.”

“I wasn´t talking about me”, you said and pointed into Annabeth´s direction. “She likes you; I can tell.” Percy shrugged. “We had a few rough times.” He didn´t seem convinced. You let out a laugh. “You don´t dress like that for no reason.” Then you leaned closer to his ear.  “Especially not under the dress.”

Yes, you had fun. You had fun seeing how Percy uncontrollably blushed. You had fun seeing those boys fight over something, they could never have. You had fun drowning your second cup in one go. You had fun letting control…

After at least four cups, or had it been five? You strolled through the crowd that had slowly scattered. You greeted a few people, chatted with Annabeth and a few other girls. It felt nice, alcohol was your best friend in building new relationships, everybody just relaxed. When Grover, he had way too many cups at this point, decided to pull out a rather old DJ stand and many went to dance, you watched them from afar and you took out your cigarettes. You just searched for a lighter in your pockets, as a small fire suddenly glowed in front of your face. Following the hand, that was holding the silver lighter and you found your eyes travelling to Luke´s face. He was slightly grinning. “Can I have one as well?” You could only nod as you held a cup in one hand and pulled out the cigarettes with the other. Luke didn´t seem to mind, took one and lit it up himself.

“I wondered if you´re gonna be here”, he said after he had taken a puff. You looked up to him, raising an eyebrow. “Why not?” “It´s not your kind of scene.” You couldn´t help but let out a laugh. “You´re right, it´s not.” You took another sip and held the cup to Luke, without even thinking. He shook his head. “Not my kind of drink.” “What do you drink then?”

He pulled out a flask and you let out another laugh and shook your head. “Unbelievable”, you muttered but then continued to grin. He held the flask to you, but you shook your head. Whatever it was, it had a high percentage. But Luke didn´t take no for an answer and poured some into your cup. “You know they warned me about you”, you rolled your eyes, but Luke saw the fire in your eyes burning. You weren´t afraid of him, you were intrigued.

“And yet you´re here with me.”

You know I´m not a saint

But I can make you pray

So get down on your knees

 The flask was emptied too fast and somehow, you were convinced to leave the party. Annabeth had talked you into dancing, which turned out to be more fun than expected. You were blushing from the heat of the fire and the liquor burning in your soul, but when you turned, you caught an eye of Luke watching you. He didn´t stop smirking when making eye contact with you and neither did you. It was in this moment, where you decided to leave. You quickly and rather sloppily said your goodbyes, and hurried back to your cabin.

Something was telling you, that you were being followed. You weren´t wrong. When you reached the stairs that led to the entrance, he had caught up. You found yourself with your back against the wooden door, Luke´s arm pressing above you, his other hand on your hip. He was leaning down, only inches away from your lips and you felt his hot breath on your face. He smelled like whisky and cigarettes and expensive cologne. “Leaving so early?” He asked quietly. You knew you had both drunken a good amount and something in your body should scream to stop, but you didn´t.

“Who said the party was over?”

His lips crashed onto yours and you both leaned into the kiss, quickly deepening the kiss. Your hands travelled up to his neck and played with his golden strands of hair, while his hand grabbed your hips, tighter and more craving. After several minutes, you barely realized it, he had stolen the key to your cabin from the pocket of your jacket and fumbled with the lock. You felt how he slowed down, but you continued, your kisses running down his neck and you felt how Luke smiled. The door finally unlocked and his hands were quickly around your waist again. You wanted to stumbled backwards into the dark room, but Luke didn´t let you. His hands grabbed your butt and lifted you off the ground, while your legs hugged around his waist. You shrieked surprised, but it was his time to kiss your neck. You knew that there would be marks tomorrow…

He carried you into the darkness of the room and kicked the door closed with his foot. You landed on the bed and Luke immediately leaned over you, hastily taking off his leather jacket. In the meantime, you had kicked off your shoes, which loudly landed on the floor. He kneeled on top of you, while beginning to make out again. His hand caressed up your leg, until it reached the top of your skirt again. You nodded approving and lifted your hips, so he could help undress you. The rest of the clothing quickly followed…

Give me a reason I should stay

Trapped inside this madness

I know you wanna have this

So I can take advantage

Savage, Savage

 It was just after 5am. when you awoke from your peaceful sleep. Legs tangled together with Luke you sat up in the bed, the sheets still covering your bare body. You yawned and cursed the early morning hours, sadly you didn´t have a choice. You let your feet hang over the bed, your toes brushing against the cold floor. Luke awoke as well and groaned.

“What´s the time? Is the sun even up?” You laughed; your voice sounded rough from the alcohol. “It hasn´t risen yet.”

His arm tried to pull you back, but you didn´t let it happen. Then you left the bed to pick a few dessous from your closet, while throwing over a thin robe. Luke watched you in the mere light.

“Where are you going?” “I need to get some things done and the day, where everybody is inexcusable tired and hungover, is the best time to go.” He rose from the bed and you saw the bitter taste of a headache on his face. “You´re leaving the camp?”

You turned to finally face him again, your face unreadable to him. “Yes, and you´ll be leaving this cabin and no one will see you.” Sighing, you sat down on the edge of the bed, your clothes ready in your arms. Your voice sounded monotone in the room.

“Luke, this was fun, but we´re living in different worlds… In a few weeks, I´ll be gone, don´t get used to me.”

Only half an hour later, you knocked at Annabeth´s door. After the third time knocking, she finally opened. Smeared make up in her face and her clothes from the day before. Her eyes blinked irritated. “Y/n.. What…”

“Get dressed, we´re leaving in 15.”

She was punctual, while you waited outside. It didn´t help that you smelled Percy´s cheap perfume from there.

“Couldn´t this wait?” Annabeth asked tiredly, while the two of you made your way through the woods.

“Look, everybody is gonna sleep late today, no one will even train or do anything, it´s the best time to sneak out!” You explained yet again. “How´s Percy by the way? Slept well?” You changed the topic and watched how the girl next to you blushed in a deep shade of red.

“We… We didn´t…” You let out a laugh and punched her shoulder. “I only asked if you slept well, not how your entire night went!” She joined in your laughter, still blushing. But then her forehead wrinkled. “You disappeared quite early, didn´t you?” You couldn´t help but grin.

“Well… Maybe I had a better night…” “WHAT?!” You punched her shoulder again, this time harder to tone her down. “Shut it!” You whispered. “Or do you want the entire camp to wake up and tell them who I´ve slept with?!”

She linked her arm with yours and pulled you closer. “Who?”

“No”, you answered stubborn. “What? You give me hints like that and won´t even tell me?! Are you for real?!” You couldn´t help but giggle. “Okay, but you have to promise, to not tell anybody. Annabeth, nobody!”

“Omg is it Grover?” You laughed and snapped your fingers at her head.

“No, it´s not Grover!”, You paused and she waited. “It´s Luke.”

“WHAT!”

“ANNABETH!” You hushed her. Luckily, you had just reached the border of the camp and you pushed your hand over her mouth. “Calm down! It wasn´t anything special, no strings attached!”

“But-“ “No but! It´s my decision and now let me concentrate, anyway we´ll get caught.”

You unlinked your arm with hers and pulled out a mirror from your purse and laid it right under the border. You held your hands up in the air.

“Mirror Mirror, may you never fail to fight,

Grant me pass through hidden night.

Open up a gateway of protection,

Let me travel in your connection.”

Annabeth now watched as the border began to slightly crumble, until a hole was ripped open. You nodded and quickly, she jumped through, while you followed. Then you pulled away the mirror and glanced back at her admiring eyes. “Now all we gotta is do is open the gateway again, if we want to enter”, you explained shrugging. Annabeth shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

You put the mirror back in your awfully small looking purse, which obviously matched your outfit perfectly. Then you pulled another Item and Annabeth gasped yet again.  “Is that a broom?!”

It had taken you about 45 minutes, and then you continually started running from one shop to the other. Annabeth began to saw parts of the city, she didn´t even dream about. Between several witch shops with potion supplies and spell books, you found yourself in many clothing stores as well. It was then over lunch, which you desperately starved for, when Annabeth tried to approach a certain topic again.

“Y/n, I know you don´t want to hear this; you have been warned after all, but there is something you should know…” She added quietly and watched, as you rolled your eyes. “What is it then?”

“In a few weeks, there will be a trial for him.” You swallowed and stopped eating. “A trial?” Annabeth nodded again and laid down the cutlery in her hands. “I don´t know anything for sure, but Chiron will have a trial for him. I only know for sure that he and Dionysos will be attending- I also heard that even some of the gods are supposed to be attending.” You leaned forward. “What do you think is gonna happen?” She shrugged. “I have no idea.” You swallowed again, letting your mind run crazy with the new given information. “Do you think they´ll sentence him to…” You didn´t finish and neither did Annabeth. Your appetite was gone now.

It had taken you a few days, but somehow you were able to push all worries away. When you walked through the woods that day, you were alarmed by an unsettling battle cry. You had done so well in avoiding Percy and foremost Luke, but destiny had decided differently that day. Even after telling Annabeth, you were sure that nobody knew about you and Luke. He had lost his friends and you didn´t make enough. Currently there was this kind of training, where they were separated in two groups and to your surprise, even Luke participated. You thought it was stupid, just like so many things, but then Luke caught your eye. Oh, how you wanted to look away, but when your eyes look, you couldn´t. He started at you, directly and boldly, until his shield was attacked by a sword. Percy glared angrily at him, the reason for the fight had just changed. “Stay away from her”, he growled and Luke let an unimpressed hum. “Why do you care?” After Percy threw a few punches at him, which Luke riposted, Luke was still grinning. Percy had the deep urge to break his teeth until he couldn´t grin anymore. “What about you and Annabeth?”

He didn´t know when to stop and Percy continued attacking. “Don´t think she´s actually interested in you!” He muttered to Luke, who furrowed his eyebrows. “She´s bored, we both know that.”

“Then why would you care?” Percy grunted when Luke threw him back, but got quickly back on his feet. “I care because she is one of us, no matter what and we´ll stand together in this camp! And YOU betrayed us!” Percy was able to disarm him and even though you hadn´t heard their conversation, you felt their agony. Luke was down, barely able to crawl backwards, but Percy didn´t seem to be interested in him anymore. He had shown his point and Luke laid in the dirt; you had seen who won. “Stay away from her.”

Much against Percy´s anticipation, Luke heard a knock in his door. It wasn´t hard for you to find his cabin, away from the rest, darker, lonelier. His eyes slightly widened when seeing you. He had a cut at his lip and a bruised eye. You grinned. “Hey, may I come in?”

He couldn´t say no and let you enter. He had a king-sized bed; all the windows were closed and the only light from outside came through the wooden cracks. A large desk was taking up most of the space with a cozy looking swivel chair in front of it. Three computer desktops were placed on it, several gaming machines and a chaos of cable going behind the desk. A blue screen saver ran on the screens and gave the entire room a mysterious shining light. “I saw how Percy beat your ass today.” He wasn´t in the mood to be mocked and already wanted to open the door again, when you pulled out a glass container. “What´s that?” “Medicine?”

“You brought me medicine?” He sounded even more surprised than he actually was, while you nodded. “Sit down you ordered and he took place in the only chair. You slightly leaned against the desk as you took a closer look at his eye. “Within a maximum of two days, it should be completely gone”, you explained and started applying the crème, which smelled like eucalyptus and other herbs. In the meantime, he watched you closely. Every move you made, every blink. You realized the sudden closeness and your fingers stopped moving, until he took his hand in yours. “Luke, remember what I said?” You asked whispering, sounding unsure. He nodded slightly, his eyes moving down to your lips. “You said it was fun.”

When you touch me you take me to heaven

When you hold me

My body is a weapon

 It was all it took; a simple push and suddenly you found yourself stripped naked in his bed. You laid on your side, your head on his chest. “Ok, I know I said it was fun, but damn!” He chuckled and started leaning down again. “How about a round two then?” You quickly turned away and immediately started searching for your clothes again. “Sorry Luke, but I’m awaiting a phone call within 10 minutes from now, next time!” You explained hastily, but when you finally reached the door again, you looked back at him. He was widely smiling. “Until next time.”

If you think you can save me

Break me down and take me

Here´s your chance to do some damage

Savage

 To your absolute denial, Luke and you met several times from this day on. As always it never took much to be the last straw. It simply was enough, when you saw him eyeing you from afar while eating dinner. You always gave each other a little hint and suddenly found yourself in each other arms again. It was living at the edge.

Annabeth didn´t know for sure, but she noticed your missing and guessed right, after considering your and Luke´s growing history. Chiron had one time almost caught you in the kitchen, it was Luke´s luck that you had perfect divination skills. However, the weeks had passed and when you awoke that morning, you knew something was different. Not being able pin point it just yet, you groaned as leaving the bed. It was early, as so often when you awoke even though every cell in your body screamed for sleep. It wasn´t long after you had gotten dressed when a knock on your door echoed. Your first thought was Luke, but he liked to sleep in and never had the idea to do anything at this god forbidden time. To your surprise, it was Chiron. You eyed him suspiciously, but he smiled generously like he did so often. “I would like to talk to you, do you have time?”

You walked next to him as making your way near the lake. “Your time here soon will be over”, Chiron started and you let out a laugh. “Be honest Y/n, it´s not as bad as it seems, is it?” After thinking for a while, you shook your head. “No, it´s not. But-“

“But it´s not your home, you didn´t need this camp, I know you never did.” Chiron continued.

“Trust me, when I saw you after all these years, I saw a young, independent woman and she was strong enough to take care of herself. I was so stunned by you and each day with you here, held a surprise. Your spell when sneaking out with Annabeth is just one of many examples”, he added and you couldn´t help but blush. “You noticed?” He grinned. “I almost didn´t. You helped Percy and Grover in the kitchen and you helped many girls in the camp with their confidence, supplying them with simply accessories. I know it wasn´t much to you, but it made a difference.”

He paused and you both slowly came to a stop. “I want to talk to you about Luke.”

You couldn´t help but swallow, but Chiron seemed nervous as well. “I don´t what´s going on between you and him, all I know, is that I saw the way he looked at you.”

You shook your head in denial, but Chiron didn´t let you speak. “All Luke ever wanted was acceptance, acceptance neither I nor this camp could offer. Until you came and you taught him; only he needed to accept himself, not me, not the camp, not his father.” Chiron sighed, you knew it wasn´t easy for him as well. “I guess you know about his trials coming up and I have a proposal to make…”

I am the tide

I know you´re drowning

You´re on the ride

 You were packing your belongings and you had to be honest, you were indeed a little sad. You knew that the nature around the camp would be dearly missed by you, the high tree tops, the cold mornings where fog crawled over the lake and maybe even your fellow creatures. Just maybe.

You were so focused on packing and organizing your things, you overheard the knock. Just when you heard someone clearing his throat, you jumped in surprise. “God Luke!”

He chuckled, but you saw sorrow in his eyes, feeling sympathy coming up. “You´re packing?” He asked confused, but it sounded like a statement. It seemed like he had just found out. You nodded compelled, ignoring his stare. “Why didn´t you tell me?” He asked further trying to get you to look at him, but you continued to avoid his eyes. “Annabeth told me”, he added and you shrugged. “Yeah, my birthday is this night, a minute after midnight.” He stepped next to you and grabbed your wrist, stopping you from packing. He didn´t say anything, just starred at you with his piercing eyes, asking for answers. But you pulled your hand back and removed yourself from his closeness. You felt the heat growing in face and hoped that Luke didn´t see the blushing.

“I though you´d stay for my trials.”

“Why? Do you think they´ll let you go?”

It stung; you saw it in his face. The comment wasn´t necessary, it had slipped from your lips and you regretted it. But there was no going back. “I didn´t-“

“No, it´s fine!” He took a few steps and threw his hands in the air. “Why would you?!” He grew angrier and his voice became louder. “Why would anyone? No one believes in me anyway.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Silence settled between you and with your mouth opened, you waited for words to come out. But nothing came.

“I know what we said; no strings, no feelings, but-“, he turned back and forth, just to walk closer to you again. “I didn´t know this would happen, but I like you, I really like you.” Luke became quieter with each word and it must´ve been hard for him. And yet, you couldn´t do anything else but shook your head. “Sorry Luke, I informed you about the precepts, I literally warned you. Not my fault.”

You knew how it sounded; cold and harsh. It broke your heart how he blinked at you and you noticed how he was shaking. The sudden closeness was lost and he took a few steps, looking at the ground now. “Is that all you have to say to me?” He asked whispering.

“Don´t let this get to you, focus on your trials. This isn´t about you and me, it´s about you and only you.”

Be careful who you trust

Don´t get a entwisted

´Cause I could into us

Or I could leave just because

Because

 They were all there; Chiron, Dionysus, Hermes, Zeus Justizia and a fifth man, Luke didn´t know him. They were all seated at a long wooden table, while he was seated on a simple chair in front of him. He dreaded this moment, as cool as he might act, he was truly nervous. He had barely slept, trying to forget the nervousness, the burden this moment was holding against him, you…

He had dreamed of you; you were together in New York, you wore a flowing summer dress and laughed with him. But when he tried to reach out for you, you had disappeared. Somehow he managed to call back your word in his mind. Don´t let this get to you, focus on your trials. This isn´t about you and me, it´s about you and only you. Luke knew you were right, but admitting it was too much.

While Chiron read out the terrible things he had done, he eyed the fifth man closer. He wore a black suit with silver buttons. He wore slightly wavy hair, a few strands falling over his facial features. He had a slightly crocked nose and dark, green eyes. Somehow, Luke noticed, he had a larger head than the rest. But maybe he just imagined that. When coming to a slowly, but surely end of the list, he pulled out a silver shinning pocket watch, raising his eyebrow at the time. Hermes, who sat right next to him, cleared his throat in order to admonish him. Luke almost rolled his eyes at his father´s implicit manner, but decided against it. “Janus”, he warned him quietly and look couldn´t help but let his eyes widen. Janus, God of Doorways, Transition and Time. He was your father.

Luke swallowed, all the nervousness he had pushed away, came rushing back.

“Luke, I´m gonna let you talk now, what do you have to say?” Chiron explained and all their eyes laid thickly on him.

“I… There´s a lot I want to say, but I´ll keep it to the important details.” He struggled talking, but tried to remain calm. At least on the outside. “I know that the things I´ve done were wrong, I´ve never been so aware of this. I was a bitter teenager and it´s inexcusable and I´m still sorry. Father” he paused and looked at him. “This isn´t your fault, I don´t think anyone but me is to blame, even though I made it look that way. Just in the passing weeks I learned how important it is to stay true to yourself, but I never knew myself. I know, I have no right to ask for any favors, all I can do is beg for a second chance.” Luke was shaking and he felt the edge of tears in his eyes. It was all up to him.

“I will accept your verdict no matter what. Just know, even though it´s a hard journey, I´ll try to change for better.” He decided to rise from the chair, he said everything he wanted. “Thank you for listening.”

You know I´m not a saint

But I can make you pray

So get down on your knees

Give me a reason I should stay

Trapped inside this madness

I know you wanna have this

So I can take advantage

Savage

Savage

 Two hours, that´s how long Luke waited outside the room while hearing them discuss inside. Dionysus had the duty to watch him, while they waited. Sometimes things got heated and their loud voices echoed through the cabin, sometimes it was so quiet, all he could hear was his own heartbeat. To his surprise, it wasn´t Chiron who called him in, it was Janus. He opened the door and nodded at him, but when Luke followed him and he turned to lead the way back, he saw it. Janus second face. It was at the back of his head and look similar to the front one, the same sharp features, the same lips and nose. But the eyes were brown instead of green. While he made his way back to his chair behind the long table, his second face didn´t leave Luke´s body. And just before he sat down again, he winked at Luke. Luke wasn´t sure how to interpret; was it a good or bad sign? Janus seemed calm, but he saw the twisted thoughts lying behind his forehead. He wasn´t like Zeus, a bright shining god, a perfectly representing picture. He was dark, mysterious and withdrawn.

“As you might imagine, this wasn´t an easy verdict to make”, Chiron started explaining. “Before your trial we asked several witnesses about you, which didn´t make it easier. But it gave us a picture. Not about your actions, but about you.” He paused and eyed the men, the gods with him. “After all we decided to put it up to a vote.”

The silence that followed only lasted seconds, but it felt like eternity to Luke.

“In the end, it stood three to two”, Luke waited and looking back, he was sure Chiron did it as a last punishment. “In your favor.”

He couldn´t help but jumped off his seat. But Zeus ordered him back. “We´re not finished.” He grunted and Luke knew he voted against him. But he sat back down. “We´ll let you go, you free to go wherever you like. However-“, Chiron took the word back. “They will be somebody at your side. Watching you all day, every day. After a time, that we decided in private, we´ll have another trial to talk about your journey then.” “I get a babysitter who watches me 24/7?” Luke asked somewhat surprised, but Janus nodded. “We decided to give you a second chance, but in the eyes of somebody who will give us daily updates. You will listen to your operating supervisor, otherwise you´ll immediately receive by far worse punishments.”

Luke nodded at him, thankful and couldn´t help but walk to his father, who sat at the very end of the table. To even his surprise, Luke hugged him tightly.

When you touch me you take me to heaven

When you hold me

My body is a weapon

 Hermes opened a portal and they ended up in a alley in New York. He turned to Luke. “From here, I have to leave.” He put a hand on Luke´s shoulder. “Promise me, try everything, be the man I saw in you.” Luke nodded and hugged him once again. “Your supervisor will wait for you.” Hermes added as they parted. He turned back to leave, but Luke held his arm. “Dad? Can you thank Janus from me?” Hermes nodded silently smiling.

“See you soon, Son.”

He vanished and after he was gone, Luke turned towards the large street. The light was shining bright and even though the wind was rushing through the treetops of Central Park, Luke felt a positive wave hitting his body. He stepped out the alley and searched the people, hurrying past him to get somewhere. Across the street he saw the opened gates to Central Park, kids were running inside it, followed by mothers and their strollers.

“It´s lovely weather, isn´t it?”

He jumped at the sudden voice and his eyes fell to the bench against the building on his left.

And there you sat, a caramel trench coat hugging your body, wearing a red lipstick and your hair braided in a lose style. You stood up and stepped next to him.

“Surprised to see me?” Luke couldn´t help but smile, and it felt like he would never stop smiling. “They asked for your opinion about me, didn´t they?” You nodded. “I made a deal with Chiron and after a 45-minute preaching, where I told Zeus how old fashioned the ways of parenting and raising were, I basically won. I mean they had no chance.” You laughed and Luke joined you.

“And did you tell them about us?” “Us?” You grinned devilishly. “Oh, I must have forgot that.”

Luke smiled and pulled you close to finally press his lips on yours.

If you think you can save me

Break me down and take me

Here´s your chance to do some damage

Savage

[writtenbyhappynerds]

FF102: Unit 4, Writing Children

Hello! So, because we screwed the pooch and didn’t take into consideration how long it would take to write the Diversity chapter, we are giving you 2 chapters in 1 week. The second part of this week is writing kids, which came about after the many parent fics and Hogwarts/Percy Jackson fics that the Editor and I have read.

          The biggest mistake you can do, the one that really shows your lack of experience as a writer is dumbing down children. Kids are just like any other adult OC. They need growth, motivation, strengths, and weaknesses. You lose power in writing kids when you infantilize them, and you need to understand the general age brackets of how kids operate. I myself struggle with this, but kids can hold a conversation just like an adult can. They can have meaningful and profound discussions. That’s how the saying, ‘out of the mouth of babes’ came around. Now, that doesn’t mean that the children are smarter than adults, but they can absolutely keep up. For example, I had a talk with my 7-year old cousin once. She asked me if I thought of myself as funny. I said yes, and she then asked if I had to work hard to be funny or if God made me naturally funny. It was a conversation I wasn’t prepared for, but I still had it with her all the same. Think back to when you were a kid. If you didn’t talk like or do the things you’re making your child OC do, then don’t make that OC do them!

          What we usually see in child OCs is that they are cut back emotionally and mentally to the age of a common 3-year old. Pervocracy wrote a great memo on how to handle children while they worked as a childless nurse. I will summarize that memo and add my own notes as well. It will be cited below for your convenience.

          From the time of birth to a year old, the child is a baby. They can crawl and walk, and may have a few words or be able to recognize people, may know parts of the body “Can you show me where your feet are?” but they are essentially small animals. You have to be gentle and affectionate, and don’t expect them to cooperate. Babies cry, but more often than not they cry as a means to communicate.

          A child aged 1-2 years old is a bit more difficult. They have more mobility and have gained more of a voice. The “terrible twos” come in to play here and the child is able to walk and run around. Often children at this age are dependent on the response of their caregivers. If a child falls, they only will make a big deal out of said fall because their caregiver does. They cry because their caregiver has clued them in socially that they are hurt. That’s why you see a lot of moms tell their babies, “it’s okay!” or “you’re okay.” They have to reassure the child that they are in fact fine so the child does not react. Children at this age can speak, but it may still be simple sentences. They can’t get deep yet. They also will recognize strangers and want to avoid them.

          A toddler/preschool child is around the age of 3-5 years old. They are more socialized, given this is the age where most children go to daycare, preschool, or kindergarten. They are potty trained by this age. Do not write a 3-5-year-old OC and have her still in diapers. That isn’t realistic. These kids are also fully mobile, and this is the age where you can start seeing the baby’s personality. Are they a hyper child? Do they like animals? If the child dances, most dancers start pre-ballet classes at this age. Do they want to go outside all the time or are they more comfortable spending time inside? Babytalk from the child, ie: mama, dada, I want, etc. Is not realistic. Again, the child may have simple sentences, but they’ve learned enough words at this point to not have to resort to speaking like that. These kids are easily distracted and likely have been weaned off naps. Parents can still babytalk these kids, a phrase here which means speak to them in that sweet little-kid voice, but the baby will not babytalk to their parents.

          A small child is roughly the ages of 6-10. These kids in America are already in school. A 6-year old is the average age of first graders, and a 9/10-year-old is roughly a 3rd grader. They will not respond well to babytalk. These kids want to be treated like adults but may still have childlike tendencies (may still pout, whine, cry, etc.). They have been fully socialized by this point as they will have had years in daycare or school racked up at this point. They are outgoing and less afraid of strangers. Most prodigy children who play an instrument will have started their instrument around age 5 or 6 (source: was a prodigy child. Started violin at 6). They like to see cool or fun or gross facts and are eager to learn and joke around. At this age you’re still watching Spongebob unironically, so treat them as such.

          A preteen is around the ages of 11-14. The child, if it’s a girl, may experience her first period, the child, if it’s a boy, will go through puberty. Girls may develop quicker, as many boys can recall a point in like 5th grade where all the girls were suddenly taller than them. These children are fussy and frustrated because they think they know more than they actually do, but are still treated for the most part like kids. They still need bedtimes and house rules and restrictions, but they don’t want them. A child will likely learn swearwords and start using them out of sight of their parents around the age of 12. This is also where a child’s cringe phase comes in because they will be going through middle school, which is the worst time in every kid’s life and a time that they all want to forget.

          A teenager is around 15-18. These are young adults. They have freedoms, mainly the ability to drive a car, but their life experience is limited. Around this age is where a child would get a girlfriend or boyfriend. No sex at this age. Don’t do that to your OCs. In Harry Potter, we often see writers jumping the gun and having their OCs hook up with Draco Malfoy in the third year. That’s too early for a kid. That kid would still be a preteen, and their life experience is limited. They also would be incapable of giving consent for something like that. Wait until they are 15-18. In Harry Potter fanfic, that would be years 5-7. This age of OC will want some autonomy away from their parents. If they visit the doctor’s office they may want to go alone. If you offered them a sticker at the doctor’s office, they’d take it ironically. They may experience early stages of depression, anxiety, or stress that can be caused by their school or home life because they have more expectations placed on them. They may have hobbies or be involved in after-school activities. A 17-year-old or 18 year old will be thinking about college.

          Notice the progression as the ages go up. A 5 or 6-year-old won’t have the pressures of a 17-year old, but they can still hold a conversation and do similar activities to the teenager. A 1-year old will speak in baby talk, but that window is very small and narrow, and in fanfiction we often see it carry on for much longer than it should. Babies grow faster than you think. They develop faster too, and you don’t want to limit your OC’s ability for growth because you’ve shoehorned them into one specific age. Child OCs deserve character growth just like adult OCs. The fun part about writing kid OCs is that the audience can see them grow into what would be already-developed personality traits and hobbies in an adult OC. The things that would get added to your internal character bio get to grow and blossom right in front of us. If you write a child OC, give them the chance to do that. Give them the chance to grow.

          Finally, most Harry Potter or Percy Jackson fanfics start the OC off as a first-year, which luckily for us is the same age as a new camper at Camp Half-Blood. Both are 11 or 12. We had a note for young OCs in Fanfiction 101 Unit 3: Please Stop Using Emily Rudd. I will reiterate that point: these OCs are 11-12 at the start of the fanfic. You should not be describing how “strikingly beautiful” an 11 or 12-year-old is. On top of that, children don’t notice things like that. Save attraction for when they’re like 14. That’s when it’ll have a more meaningful impact.

          Next week we’ll be getting more technical. The next unit is a topic the Editor and I have a lot of experience in, and hopefully, we’ll be able to bring in some outside perspectives.

Xoxo, Gossip Girl.

Sources:

Pervocracy's Tumblr

[dat-silvers-girl]

How does she feel about the weasleys?

"Which Weasley are you asking about, my anonymous friend? I told this friend here about Bill already, so I suppose I'll tell you about the others!"

"Let's start with Charlie. Charlie is quite smart when it comes to be dealing with creatures, but... Now don't tell him I said this, but he's kind of an idiot. Just a little though! Like, I understand his obsession with dragons, but at times he squeezes dragons into completely unrelated conversations, and at times like that I wonder why nobody has talked to him about toning it down. But on the whole, he's a good friend. That reminds me, I promised him I'd take him to meet my Welsh Green, Rhaegar. I should probably go do that soon. I don't want him to get upset with me again."

"Then there's Percy. Oh god... Percy. I don't know how to feel about him. On one hand, he's kryptonite when I'm doing cursed vault things because he will report me, but on the other hand, I respect his want to uphold rules because trust me, if it weren't for these stupid Vaults, I would have been just like him. But seriously, on the whole, I think Percy is a fine young man, and since he's already got his future decided at this tender age, I'm sure he'll do great in the future. Percy Weasley, Minister of Magic, actually sounds pretty good!"

"Now there's Fred and George. Can I just say that I've only known them for a little while, but I already love them? They're my little brothers now, sorry Charlie!😅 Those two are like Tonks and Tulip if they were siblings. Fred and George, like Tonks and Tulip, are hilarious, and they always bring a smile to my face, even if it is because of a dungbomb. They're smiles and laughs are contagious, I swear to Merlin. More so than Tonks and Tulip don't tell them I said that. Maybe the reason I like them so much is because they're little kids, and I love watching them have fun. They could prank me and I'd still hug them!"

"Lastly, I want to talk about Molly and Arthur Weasley. I've known Arthur Weasley for a long time through my Papa, and he's always been a good man. Since we're half bloods, I remember often explaining muggle technology to him. But I got to know Mrs Weasley because she always shows up somehow on Christmas. She's so loving and caring with her children. I've always known that there's something wrong with my mom, but I didn't realise how bad she was until I met Mrs Weasley. She has always been good to me, despite my reputation, and she even gives me presents on Christmas. With her big family, small fortune and shower of love, she reminds me of my Sensei back home. I wish my mum were more like her. She has even given me and Merula too, a place in her home, should we ever need it. And though I've only been to the Burrow once, it feels like home. I wish only good things for the Weasley family. They deserve the best, honestly."

My opinion:

Okay. This post is long enough as it is lol. Most of what I know about the Weasley family is from this game and movies. Molly Weasley basically adopts everyone has her child, and I love her. Molly Weasley is a queen. I find Arthur Weasley amusing, and his love for muggle things is cute, but he never interested me much. Charlie didn't have any screen time in the movies, so I only know him through the game. Same for Percy and Bill because they didn't have much screen time in the movies. But Fred and George have a good amount of screen time, and those two are heroes! I love how quickly they used their prank inventions to rebel against Umbridge, and even opened their own Joke Shop. They were my favorite Weasleys in the movies. I was devastated when Fred died, and I know for a fact that Sarahi would be too. One thing I am amused by is that they have joined a secret organization, the Circle of Khanna, in their first year itself, and later they join Dumbledore's Army as well. They basically spent their entire life at Hogwarts in secret organizations. I am also well aware of what Percy gets up to, and while I'm proud of him for getting his priorities straight by the end, it pains me a lot to know that he watched Fred die just as he came back to his family. I don't know what happened to much of the Weasley family after the war, but I hope they only has good things in the future, and that Fred's memory remained. In fact, Sarahi names her son Remus Frederick Lee, in honour of both Remus Lupin and Tonks, and Fred Weasley.

[mvllyii]

(  𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓻𝔂  )  they remind me of 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅-𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒍𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕 & 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒔, 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 & 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆, 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒐 𝒕𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒍𝒚  (  𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒈𝒐  )  , 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓. ♛ 》MOLLY WEASLEY II, TWENTY-THREE, has been marked safe after the recent events. SHE/THEY are currently a PROFESSIONAL QUIDDITCH PLAYER (BEATER). to some, they are 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 + 𝒛𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔 . for others, 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒖𝒐𝒖𝒔 + 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍. check out her pinterest HERE & her full stats HERE. 

triggers: war, death, anxiety  (  lmk if i missed something !!  )

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒 !

FULL NAME molly cassandra weasley  (  ii  ).

MEANING OF NAMES diminutive of mary ; possibly meaning “ sea of bitterness ”  & “ rebelliousness ” & “ wished for child. ” cassandra is greek meaning “ to excel, to shine. ” cassandra was a trojan princess who was given the gift of prophecy by apollo. 

NICKNAMES molls, moll, mo/moe, molly jr, young molly. 

BIRTHDATE + ZODIAC october 25, scorpio.

ETHNICITY iranian & mizrahi jewish, possibly some russian.

HOUSE slytherin  (  secondary being gryffindor???? unsure  )

JOB professional quidditch player.

GENDER IDENTITY + PRONOUNS non-binary + she / they.

SEXUAL/ROMANTIC ORIENTATION bisexual biromantic.

ABILITIES exceptionally gifted on a broom as well as in transfiguration & charms. became an anigmagus during her 5th year. 

GODLY PARENT athena  (  wisdom, warfare, strategy  ).

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 !

sivan najjar and mirza leon were still grieving everyone they had lost, including themselves, when sivan found out she was pregnant. they had just barely survived the war and were still rebuilding themselves - or what was left of themselves when the war ended. sivan was a strong-willed and fierce gryffindor who fought tooth and nail and would rather die than not be part of the battle. mirza was a quiet yet lethal hufflepuff who would do anything for his girlfriend. they both fought in the war and stayed at hogwarts despite, well, everything that was going on. today, they’re in their 40′s, but they were just teenagers when they became pregnant. they went through with it - parts of them wanted to raise this child. a child that was a small amount of joy after the war they thought. but they couldn’t raise this child and especially not when they were still repairing themselves. once the two of them realized this, they quickly found a couple to adopt. maybe this family would be able to give their child everything.

the couple was percy weasley and audrey weasley. they hadn’t planned on adopting so close after the war. they had wanted to adopt, though. they knew that. they were going to wait a few more years once they were more settled, but after filling out paperwork and hearing about sivan and mirza’s story they were sold. 

percy and audrey named their first child molly cassandra weasley ii, after percy’s mother. cassandra is the greek form of KASSANDRA and means “to excel, to shine”. ( also in myth, cassandra was a trojan princess who was given the gift of prophecy. *wiggles eyebrows at lucy* )

molly was always a handful. she had an unlimited amount of energy and was always doing something that annoyed her parents. everytime her parents said something she’d counter with ‘ why? ‘ half because she wanted to know but also for fun. ‘ because i said so ‘ was never a good enough excuse for her either. 

when molly got to hogwarts, she was sorted into slytherin  (  technically the FIRST slytherin the weasley family has had in a long time since her name was called before roxanne’s  ). molly was incredibly proud of her sorting. she had always been overly ambitious and to the extreme, so it wasn’t a surprise that she wasn’t a gryffindor like her father. she truly could have been in any of the houses. she valued loyalty above a lot of things like a hufflepuff - though she was selective about her loyalty, she had a bright mind and would have fit in well with ravenclaw, she valued courage like everyone else in her family and was an incredibly courageous person, but after a minute of deliberation the sorting hat decided on slytherin. molly really excelled in slytherin. she had heard the horror stories about slytherins and how it was a  ‘  bad house  ‘  to be in. how could a house be completely bad? all they did was value ambition. molly was still a clever, creative, loyal + courageous person. 

molly made the quidditch team in her 3rd year as a (  reserve  )  chaser but switched to beater in her 4th year. little did she know that she’d end up with a career in quidditch. molly was never confident in her quidditch abilities, despite how BRILLIANT she was. like many things, quidditch came natural to her. the first time she got on a broom she was six years old and spending the weekend at her aunt ginny’s & uncle harry’s. it was just the two of them throwing apples between them as they flew through the air before anyone else woke up. 

she was also appointed as prefect during her fifth year, which made her parents INCREDIBLY PROUD. she was proud of herself, but not as much as they were. 

molly always wanted to know where she came from. it was a MOSTLY CLOSED ADOPTION. audrey and percy knew of sivan & mirza’s involvement in the war as well as the battle and knew that they had attended hogwarts, but that was all. molly didn’t know her blood status  (  that part wasn’t important  )  but she also didn’t know where her biological parents came from, what houses they were in, if they were as good at quidditch as she was... etc. she never hated them for giving her up, she knew that times were incredibly hard after the war and she was so grateful for her parents and family. molly found her parents at the end of her 7th year, thinking that it would be some kind of  “  healing  “  but it didn’t. she thought it would be this huge step for her and she’d learn who she was by the meeting alone, but it did nothing for her. 

at age sixteen, molly had what most would call a breakdown. she was overwhelmed with fear that the career path she was going towards wasn’t something that she’d like in the long term, or even in the short term. she was so TERRIFIED that she was choosing a simple and structured career because that’s what her parents did and the more she thought about it the more scared she became. molly burned all her internship papers and everything related to the career that she thought she wanted. she should’ve been grateful for the internship at such a young age, that’s what her father told her. he was the main reason why she was able to score the interview and internship so QUICKLY. 

it was like something in molly changed. she changed everything about herself, including her future. she had this sudden realization that everything she was doing and everything she had done was for HER PARENTS and what they expected from her. there wasn’t a single thing she did for herself except for quidditch. they weren’t as into it as she was and the main reason why she kept up with it for so long was because her aunt had always supported her and gave her confidence she needed to continue past the first few years. molly had NO IDEA what she was going to do with her life and she was completely okay with going with the flow and letting things happen. 

she pursued a career in quidditch, she was already one of the BEST on the slytherin quidditch team and was rumored to be taking over as captain, which was simply a rumor. she was more like a co-captain since she was always bugging the captain and had so many ideas of her own that they ended up using. she was simply a pain in the ass. and by her 6th year she was already being scouted by various quidditch teams across europe. she’d never play for someone out of the english league, but they tried. she was supposed to be THE quidditch player to get. the harpies wanted her, puddlmere... the list went on. she turned down the harpies almost right away. while she loved the team and she loved her aunt, she didn’t want to live in the shadow of the GINNY WEASLEY. not after living in her families shadow / legacy for most of her life. 

molly was made HEAD GIRL by mcgongall at the beginning of her 7th year and she couldn’t have been more proud of herself. just like her dad. she wanted to be separate from her father and do things for herself but she ended up being so much more like him. it’s why they’re always arguing, they’re just too similar and always think they’re right and can’t accept being wrong for once. 

molly graduated hogwarts, became a beater for one of the professional quidditch teams, 

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 !

molly is filled with a lot of anger and aggression. she started doing quidditch because it was a good outlet for her to put all of that pent up aggression in. it’s what made her the lethal and terrifying beater she is now. she’s never really felt like she  “  fit in  “  with her family. they all knew who they were and where they came from and molly had no idea. comments about how she’s not technically a weasley made her sad, instead of angry or upset. nowadays, she’d probably punch someone if they said it but as a teen / child she’d just agree with them. and even when she found her birth parents it did nothing to help that hole in her chest. molly is the eldest of audrey & percy’s kids so she has that typical  “  i’m the older sibling so i have a lot on my shoulders and i have to be perfect and if you touch my sibling i’ll literally kill you  “  vibe. less of a perfectionist now but it’s still there. she’s incredibly ambitious, also clever, creative, loyal  (  to a select few  ), brave  (  at times  ). she’s quickly angered and will rely on her fists before her wand. she thinks a punch is more personal. she’s very kind, but again, to a select few. straight forward. doesn’t beat around the bush - unless you’re lucy. you wouldn’t think it but she’s actually quite insecure and doesn’t always or ever know what she’s doing so she’s got a lot of false confidence and always looks like she knows what she doing. she’s very much controlled by her feelings of self doubt as well as feeling like she’s not living up her potential and can always be doing a lot better at everything. 100% ? she’s going for 200%. lots of anxiety, too, because of course a percy kid isn’t complete without overwhelming anxiety and perfectionism. 

[braveskyered]

Knights (Part 11)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

I got the harder times behind us…

Part 11: Hope Trouble Never Finds Us

- - - - - - -

Fingers moved across the keyboard, typing words and looking through various searches while working on some documents.

Thought back to the time before everything went sour. Knew something was wrong, but didn’t do anything to stop it. Filled with shame ever since it was realized just how much impact that person left them. Mother made it very clear how disappointed she is when it was discovered what actually happened.

A sigh. Decided to take a moment to look though something unrelated to work. Checked through articles that long distance friends had posted, browsing through them mindlessly until one post caught attention.

It can’t be… could it?

A hand trembled as it hovered above the keys.

“Ma-… Ma… kuh…!”

- - - - - - -

Arthur could hardly contain his grin as he waited for the children to come home.

The twins managed to graduate out of high school early, and best of all, they got accepted as students at the Cantabile Institute of Technology thanks to the prosthetic arm they made. An arm that could allow the wearer to feel things without it being to heavy on the body. The fact that two young kids had successfully made such an invention with feedback from Arthur was astonishing enough for a newspaper article to be made, which Elaine clipped out and framed.

The first model of the arm had been given to Arthur to test the functions, and both he and Elaine were ecstatic when he actually felt things through his left hand again. Granted, it wasn’t the same back when he still had his real arm, but it was feeling nonetheless. The tears of joy he shed was no doubt something his family will never forget, especially after Elaine recorded his reaction. He tried to get her to delete it, but Elaine refused.

“Nope~! It’s not everyday I see the star of my life be so happy!”

Best of all, it’s October 13th, the children’s birthday! Gwen and Percy will turn fourteen today, and Vivian be three. Oh, how time flies! Not only will Arthur get to celebrate his older children getting accepted into a place where their skills will be pushed to the limit and then some, but also celebrate another year of being with his family.

As always, he repeated the same mantra whenever his children reach a milestone.

You are okay, Arthur. This is your life now. Live for Gwen and Percy. Live for Vivian. Defy those who wanted your life to end, and live on. You matter to someone, and they need you. You are okay.

Taking a breath to steady himself, Arthur went back to his beloved’s side.

While Caelia is keeping the kids in the dark by taking them out clothes shopping, Arthur and Elaine worked hard to put up the birthday decorations in a guest room in Niniane’s mansion. The old woman wanted to make it a milestone birthday, both for the twins to get into a university, and for Vivian to reach the age of three as a rite of passage based on what her father had done for her back when he was alive. Arthur isn’t really sure what she meant, but he shrugged it off and decided to ask her later.

Eleanor came by later with her two daughters Phoebe and Rhetta, bringing in multiple presents wrapped and labeled and ready to be ripped open. Morgan’s husband Miles soon came by and brought the four cakes that will be used to celebrate the birthday, while Eleanor’s husband Nicholas arrived some time later with bottles of soft drinks and some more presents.

Vivienne, whose age started to get the better of her, finally arrived with Morgan. Shortly before Vivian was born, Vivienne had to start using a wheelchair, which Arthur took the time to carefully build and customize just for her at the time. Thankfully, her mind is still intact, and thus she is able to continue being the matriarch of the Knights family.

(Caelia once mentioned that the title of matriarch will be passed down to her eventually, even though she feels Morgan deserves the role more. Morgan in turn would retort that Caelia deserves the title, since despite being the older sister, she doesn’t have a monster form, and made Caelia drop the subject.)

Because all three of his children share the same birthday, combined with the fact that Vivian is still a toddler, it was decided that they make individual cakes for them. Gwen and Percy would share one cake (they insisted), while Vivian would have a smaller one made specially for her. The other two cakes were primarily extra for the rest of the family to eat. After all, you can’t truly celebrate a birthday without having at least one slice of cake!

Elaine got a text from Caelia saying that she and the kids are on their way home. Upon hearing this, Arthur and everyone else started getting ready for the surprise. The many presents are set in a pile, and the cakes are in place. Elaine then got a text from Caelia saying that she’ll enter the door first as planned, then have the kids come in right after.

“You have the poppers ready?”

“I do. You got the streamers?”

“Yep. Who’s got the hats?”

“Get ready, guys. Mom’s coming first, then the kids.”

Right on cue, Caelia came in through the door, gave Arthur and Elaine a nod, then gestured to the three outside.

“SURPRISE!”

“Waugh!”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOU THREE!”

“Mom, not cool!” Gwen was scrambling her arms to get the streamers out of her hair, yet she’s smiling.

“Aw, man, you guys scared Vivian!” Percy looked down, showing more concern for his little sister than the surprise party itself.

Speaking of which, Vivian is curled on the floor, her hands over her head, looking like she’s about to cry. Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle as he kneeled down to comfort her, the little girl clinging to his shirt in response before observing her surroundings.

“Happy Third Birthday, Vivian,” Arthur smiled as he slid a party hat on his daughter’s head while minding her long hair, “It’s a special day for you, and your big brother and sister.”

Vivian looked up at him, still looking a little scared, but upon seeing the many birthday decorations and all her relatives, she started to perk up and turned to Elaine, “Thir…?”

“That’s right, Vivian. Third,” Elaine giggled and held up three fingers, “You’re three now, three years old. You’re becoming a biiiig girl. Happy Birthday!”

The surprise birthday party, despite the rough start, has been a huge success. Photos of the birthday kids were being taken with family members, the birthday song has been sung, and the three were tearing through the presents like there’s no tomorrow.

Arthur wasn’t sure what to get for Gwen and Percy at first, but eventually settled for the newest game system and a handful of games he managed to pick up at a discount as the first set. Well, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to play some of the games himself. The most recent Super Smash Bros. came out just a few months ago, after all. The second set of presents for the twins were some advanced parts for their recent projects. While Arthur and Elaine weren’t exactly sure what the twins will do with them, but Arthur knew that each part will have their uses since they experiment so much.

There were many other presents, that ranged from clothes to tools and from toys to games. While Gwen and Percy were admiring the various parts and tools they received, Vivian constantly snuggled her new plush toy modeled after a white fox sitting on its hind legs. …or was it a dog? Arthur couldn’t really tell, since Niniane is the one who brought it, but at least Vivian is happy with it. Arthur then recalled the two stuffed animals the twins keep in their rooms, Gwen’s gray turtle and Percy’s orange alpaca. Has it really been eleven years since he gave those toys to the twins on their third birthday? Time sure does fly quickly.

Speaking of quickly…

“They’re tearing through the presents fast,” Arthur turned to Elaine, “We better get the rest of them.”

“I’m on it, my knight,” Elaine kissed his cheek, “Keep an eye on Vivian?”

He nodded and chuckled softly. Her kisses are always so sweet…

After Elaine left the room, Arthur knelt down next to Vivian to watch her admire her new toy. The three-year-old poked at the ears and tail the fox (dog?) has, gave them light tugs, squeezed the legs with her small hands, then went back to hugging it. Seeing his youngest child examining the toy like that made him smile, happy that she is curious.

…Happy that he is able to celebrate her birthday with her.

“Dad-dee.”

“You took what should have been mine.”

…No. He can’t think about it. He doesn’t want to think about it.

“Dad-dee?” Vivian looked up before reaching an arm out to him, her face showing a beaming smile, “Dad-dee.”

Smiling a little, Arthur wrapped his arms around Vivian. Even now, he finds it hard to believe that he is responsible for her existence, for Gwen and Percy’s existence. The fact that he is married to a woman who loves him dearly, that he is a father to three amazing children who also love him dearly.

That he is happy. Happy and safe.

Granted, the nightmares of the wraith, kitsune, and demon still come and go, but all he has to do is wake up and he would find Elaine beside him. Even now, he still wondered what he did to deserve her, but then her words would echo in his mind. Words that she made sure to repeat at least once every day.

“I love you, my star.”

Come to think of it, Elaine is taking a while. Concerned, he stood up while keeping Vivian in his hold. As Vivian started to babble about something, Arthur walked to the doorway and called out to his beloved, “Elaine?”

“I’m coming!”

Within seconds, Elaine came out from the room where the other presents were kept while holding three of the presents, two large and one small, in her arms. Arthur noticed that her fingers were a little tense, her right arm skeletal with a spectral glow like she does when she fights monsters.

“Sorry about that, my knight. There was a little… uninvited guest that tried to crash the party,” Elaine shrugged with an assuring smile, “I know you don’t like having them around, so I made sure it went bye bye.”

Arthur felt unnerved upon hearing that. A ghost? Shouldn’t Niniane’s home be full of protections that prevent exactly that from happening? Elaine didn’t seem too concerned, and she has done this before in their house, so he didn’t have a reason to doubt her, but…

“Pre-sanssss?” Vivian babbled before dropping her stuffed animal. She looked down and whined, trying to reach for it.

Right, birthday first, ask questions later. Arthur repeated that thought in his head as he knelt down to pick up the toy to give back to his daughter. This isn’t the time to have doubts, and he promised himself that this would be an ideal birthday for the kids. He owed them that much. The nightmare from last night isn’t real.

- - - - - - -

Arthur felt the wraith dragging him away by clenching his throat with a burning hand. He has trouble breathing, the pain in his neck indescribable.

His whole being hurt, his energy sapped away. The cuts and bruises spread all over from being slammed against a wall multiple time before being dragged to another place he couldn’t identify. His head pounded furiously, yet the blood that rushed into his head had been lost, allowing him to think more clearly slightly, yet unable to fully register the pain since he felt so numb. He has trouble seeing. The blood coming down from his forehead and the tears in his eyes didn’t make it any easier.

It’s what he deserved, though. Because sorry isn’t good enough. He shouldn’t have ran away from the past. He couldn’t run away from the wraith’s desires. Not after what he did.

“Where are they.”

Arthur didn’t answer. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. The wounds on his neck made it too painful to speak, let alone breathe. Even if he could talk, there is no way Arthur will allow the wraith to take his children as its own playthings.

“Where are they?!”

The wraith slammed him against the ground upon demanding. Arthur barely felt what seemed to be plush carpet on the fingertips of his right hand, but his head felt like it was slammed against a hard surface. His vision began to darken and blur. He barely curled his lips into a smirk for a split second, as if attempting to talk.

Well, all that monstrous wraith did was make it harder for Arthur to give it the answer it sought. Then again, the children aren’t anywhere nearby. He knew they were hidden and safe.

The wraith slashed at him, shredding his left arm into tiny unsalvageable little pieces with some blood mixed in. Arthur didn’t have the energy to scream in pain anymore, not when the left side of his face had also been clawed at, blinding his left eye.

“You took what should’ve been mine.”

He’s aware. Painfully.

Heh.

The clawed hands were about to swipe at him again, but all of a sudden, the sound of roaring waves crashed through the silence.

The fangs of a kitsune clamped down against his neck, and he saw red with splotches of blackened green.

- - - - - - -

If Vivian hadn’t climbed into his side of the bed back last night and woke him for attention, Arthur felt that he would never be able escape from that hellish dream. She is only three years old, and yet…

“…knight? My knight?”

“Uncle Arthur?”

Arthur snapped out of his stupor as he saw a hand waving in front of him. He thought it was Elaine at first, but then he realizes the title he was just called. Looking up to see who it is, he sees a tall and lean girl with short dark brown hair held up with an orange headband that barely reaches his height beside Elaine.

“Are you all right? Do you need to rest?”

He smiled, “I’ll be fine, Phoebe. I do appreciate you watching out for me.”

He has a hard time believing that Phoebe, who turned nineteen just a few months back, has grown so much since the last major family reunion the year before. She looked concerned, as she usually is, and often worried for his well being in the few times they see each other. As she is the oldest in her generation, Phoebe was told of Arthur’s past abuse from her mother, Eleanor. While Arthur felt fortunate in that Phoebe never pressed for details, he knew that she only meant well whenever she asked about his health, if maybe a little too often. As expected of a child in this family.

���Phoebe, how’s Rhetta doing?” Elaine asked to switch the topic, “I wasn’t able to ask her, since she’s never interested in talking to me.”

“Oh, she’s all right. She’s at that phase where it’s said that speaking to adults is considered ‘uncool’ at her school,” Phoebe sighed with a mix of annoyance and concern while tugging at the collar of her shirt, “I swear, peer pressure is not a fun thing. I’m having a hard time getting through to her, and I’m her sister.”

Arthur knew that term all too well. Back when he used to live in Tempo, Vivi and Lew–

“Dad-dee?” Arthur looked down and realized that he forgot that he’s still holding Vivian. How that’s possible, he isn’t really sure, but…

These memories won’t stop haunting me even though it’s been so long now?

“My knight,” he looked up and saw Elaine smile lovingly at him, her arm already turned back to normal, “Let’s get back to the party. Okay?”

He nodded, and after taking a moment to adjust his hold on Vivian, went back into the party room.

To Arthur, the rest of the events that happen is all a blur. As soon as he released Vivian from his hold, the toddler ran up to Gwen and Percy to tear open the presents, even the ones that weren’t for her to the twins’ chagrin. More toys, machine parts, books, and games were added, and soon, it was decided that it was time to eat the cake.

The twins shared slices from one cake while Vivian sat between them to eat her own. Because Vivian is just a small toddler, Arthur convinced Elaine to have a smaller cake with less sugar in it to be made for her, so it wouldn’t make her as hyper, which she agreed wholeheartedly to. Vivian seems to like it, because she started to dig in to her cake with a spoon before the twins could even start to eat their slices.

“Heh heh! Vivian! You’ve got cake all over your face!” Gwen quickly cleaned the crumbs off around Vivian’s plate.

“It’s cake, Gwen. Of course she’s gonna go all over it,” Percy snickered.

Arthur heard the sound of a camera shutter and noticed Elaine has the camera on hand, taking photos of the twins laughing at Vivian being a mess. Gwen held up a napkin and started wiping some crumbs off Vivian’s face while Percy watched with a wide grin.

He isn’t sure why, but Arthur felt a weight lift itself from his shoulders. He felt lighter than usual as he watched his three children just being themselves.

Happy Birthday, you three. Know that I love you all.

- - - - - - -

A week later, it started snowing.

Granted, getting snow at this section of Tennessee isn’t unusual, since Cantabile is a city within the mountains. Since many of these mountains have outskirts with wide open fields, it gave Gwen and Percy the time of their lives to transform into their yokai forms and let loose, while Vivian tried to follow by her newly discovered ability to fly.

It’s funny in Arthur’s mind, really. To think that he used to be so afraid of various things amongst the paranormal, but upon living and interacting with it on a daily basis ever since he married into the Knights family, some of it wasn’t so bad anymore.

Maybe it’s just because his children helped him find it fun somewhat.

“Come on, Vivian!” Percy dashed past Arthur and Elaine as a kitsune, bounding around the snow in wide circles, “Try to keep up!”

“You’re still it!” Gwen, still in her human form with her hands and feet covered with an icy aura, ran over the snow with ease without leaving any footprints.

While Vivian flew around to chase her siblings in their impromptu game of tag, Arthur watched them with a smile on his face as he tried to keep up with them. Elaine had taken a job by herself and left with Eleanor this time for the weekend, since she felt that it was too dangerous for Arthur and the kids to come along. With that in mind, Arthur decided to spend some quality time with the kids, which led to their unique game in the mountains.

Although he doesn’t have any powers to brag about other than his knowledge of robotics and machines, Arthur still has the ability to run fast for a long period of time even though he is in his late thirties. Running away from the paranormal and just wanting to escape from the horrors back in the old days, Arthur knew that he doesn’t need to run away from his children with paranormal abilities, but to run alongside them.

He always did ever since they were born.

They were on a wide open hill within the mountains, broken only by a handful of trees at the top. Percy still ran as a kitsune, and Gwen took the opportunity to change into her wolf form to let loose. As the two raced downward, Vivian flew after them, trying her hardest to tag one of her siblings. Arthur ran after them from behind in a straight path, but soon he lost his footing and fell. Before he knew it, he kept rolling down the snowy hill.

He isn’t sure how he did it, but soon he managed to recover his footing for a brief moment, only to fall to his back and slid down the snow even further, laughing once he heard the kids do the same thing.

It never snowed in Tempo, which is a desert town. He quickly shoved the thought aside.

Soon, Arthur managed to stop himself from rolling. A good thing, because once the adrenaline began to wear off, he started to feel tired and sore all over as his head felt like it was spinning a little. The area on his left arm where flesh meets metal began to feel cold, too. The sound of snow being crushed by footsteps caught his attention, and he turned and saw a golden fox’s leg.

“Dad, are you okay?” Percy leaned against him.

He reached up to embrace his hold around his son’s neck and buried his face against the fur. Is a kitsune’s fur always this warm?

“Daddy, you’re cold!” Gwen nudged her head against his back.

He looked up from Percy’s fur and saw Vivian floating nearby, her cheeks looking rosy from the cold. He remembered helping her bundle up against the cold, but he guessed it can only do so much against windchill. Holding out his good arm, he beckoned Vivian to come to him, which she obeyed. As soon as Vivian came into his cold, he felt that even she is shivering.

“Dad-dee… C-cold,” Vivian muttered as she wrapped her arms around him for warmth.

“M-m-might be a g-good time to h-head home, then,” Arthur gave a low chuckle as he started to stand up, but Percy knelt down in front of him.

“Get on my back, Dad,” he said, “It’ll be faster this way. The sooner we get you home, the sooner we can get you and Vivian warmed up.”

Arthur didn’t argue. Under normal circumstances, Arthur wouldn’t dream on riding on either of them while they were in their monster forms. For starters, it felt awkward to him, and the two were often rambunctious whenever they romp around. Second, as their father, he never wanted to exploit his children for anything other than loving them as his family.

The fact that Percy is insisting on helping him put that feeling aside. Arthur knew he needed to get home, if to get Vivian warmed up at the very least. It wouldn’t do anyone any favors if she catches a cold. Arthur knew that he can handle it, but Vivian might be miserable.

The ride back to their home wasn’t the smoothest, but Percy being so careful when running the trek back home made up for it.

Once they reached home, Arthur made sure to give Vivian a warm bath.

- - - - - - -

The following Monday, Arthur is back at the university grading some worksheets the students did over the Fall Break. Normally, his boss Mr. Cromwell would be grading them, but the man had to go to a meeting with his fellow deans, so Arthur volunteered for the task until he came back. As a teaching assistant with his own office, it was the least he could do.

He still works at Four of a Kind Queens from time to time, mostly on the weekends. Elaine still works at the family shop, but she encourages Arthur fully when he works at the university, since the twins have been having a fantastic time learning new tip and tricks in the fields the university teaches with their father nearby. Well that, and the paycheck from the university is pretty good, too.

On Vivian’s end, because her powers are so unpredictable combined with her young age, and that her hair is still unnaturally long, it was decided that she is to be home schooled for the time being. Elaine gave a reason to the education board that Vivian has some “special needs,” which is somewhat true.

“I don’t want to get a school destroyed for the third time,” Elaine sighed as if reliving a bad memory, “This is for everyone’s sake.”

Arthur whipped his head at her direction, “Wait, do what a third time?”

“Oh, nothing, just thinking about my school days. I had to be home schooled after I turned ten, so… yeah.”

After he finished with the grading on paper, he had to put the grades themselves on to the online reports. A little annoying to do, since the online grading board is a bit finicky, but Arthur could tolerate it. Upon reaching the halfway point of inserting the grades, the phone rang, which he quickly answered.

“Cantabile Institute of the Robotics Division.”

“Are you… Arthur… Knights?”

“That would be me, how can I help you?” He opened up a window that showed an online planner.

The man on the other line was silent.

“…Sir?”

“Ah, sorry, I, uh… got distracted. Let’s see… I have some questions about the robotics program that my grandson was thinking of applying for next year. I would like to know what qualifications he would need and what classes he needs to take.”

Arthur rose a brow, “Well, that should be on the school website under the Programs tab. Were you and your grandson able to find that, Mister…?”

“Ah…! Er, I-I’m… Snowfield. Joe Snowfield.”

Rather nervous guy with a minor accent. Not that I’m any better on the nervous part. Arthur shrugged, “Mr. Snowfield, got it. Did you find that tab I mentioned before you called?”

“I did, but I… have some questions and I was hoping I could meet with you… personally.”

“I’m actually just a teaching assistant, sir. While I can discuss how to properly register for the classes in which semester and graduate in four years, if you want the finer details for the university’s robotics program while getting the official approvals for registration, you should talk to either Mr. Robert Cromwell, the dean, or to the actual instructors Ryan Kusey or Keith Matthews. They can give you more accurate answers than I can.”

Arthur could’ve sworn he heard Snowfield curse, but it’s probably because of nerves. It’s not unusual for grandparents to have a hard time, but…

“Does your grandson also have the surname Snowfield?”

“Er… Yes, he does.”

“I’ll give you the contact info for Keith Matthews since your surname is among the alphabet of students he handles. Could I have your contact info so I can pass it to him?”

“T-that won’t be necessary! I-I can see his contact info here, so I will make sure to schedule an appointment with him. Do you know if Mr. Matthews will be here on Thursday?”

“He’s here all five days of the week, so I doubt you’ll have any issues reaching him if you email him and if you’re flexible with time.”

“I-I will do that. Thank you, Ar– Mr. Knights.”

“You’re very welcome, sir. Have a good day.”

“Bye.”

Arthur hung up, shaking his head. It’s not the first time he’s had this kind of phone call, but that old gentleman had to take the cake. The man on the other line spoke as if he was overwhelmed by something, or had something else in his mind like he wasn’t completely there. Arthur didn’t think he or the university is that intimidating… right?

When he went back to his computer screen to add more grades in the online grade book, he glanced at the newspaper article he had framed, the article that had Gwen and Percy make that arm that contained a picture of the two standing proudly before their creation. A part of him did wish that he was among them when their achievement was acknowledged, but…

He shifted his focus back on the computer screen.

I can’t have them find me. I can’t have them take me back. If they do…

His fingers faltered.

Who knows they’ll do to the kids.

Gwen. Percy. Vivian.

I…

I’m so sorry you had to be born to a cowardly father like me.

His cell phone rang this time, and he answered it, “Hello?”

“Hello, my knight,” he recognized that wistful voice anywhere.

Letting out a breath with a silent exasperated laugh, Arthur shook his head.

How is it that she always has such good timing?

“My light,” he smiled, “What’s up?”

“I thought I’d just call and say hello. A good thing I did, since you only call me your light whenever you’re anxious. Did something happen?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I was just thinking about whether I should use it more.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that, my star.”

As Arthur filled out the remaining grades, Elaine kept talking about every day things over the phone. She talked about Vivian missing her daddy, talked about how much she misses him, talked about how much she loved him.

“I love you, my star.”

“I love you, too… my light.”

Even to this day, Arthur doesn’t really know what he did to deserve an amazing woman as his spouse.

- - - - - - -

Three days later, Arthur is in his office again, and crossed off the former day on the calendar to show that it’s Thursday today. Mr. Cromwell has to attend yet another meeting regarding the school board, but Arthur’s not complaining. He opened the calendar on his computer to check for any appointments any students have signed up for, but so far, he only saw one. That Snowfield gentleman he spoke two earlier this week had booked an appointment with Keith Matthews like he suggested, so at least he won’t have to worry about that.

“Let’s see,” Arthur muttered to himself as he picked up the binder containing the assignments, “Yesterday was Robotics III, so today is Robotics II, so this means that the assignment that’s due today is—”

Someone knocked on his door.

“Come in,” he turned to see the instructor he just thought about, noticing a cell phone in the man’s hand..

“Hey, Arthur. Do you remember answering a call from a Joe Snowfield on Monday?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I just got a call from my insurance agent regarding my wife’s surgery, and I really need to take it. All Mr. Snowfield needs is a summary of the program and a list of the required tools. Could you help him on that while I get this taken care of? I already have the papers laid out to him out front, I just need you to explain the classes in a bit more detail.”

“Yeah, sure,” Arthur stood up from his desk and proceeded to walk out the door.

After his coworker left with a rather hasty thanks, Arthur rose a brow at the odd behavior before shrugging it off. Grabbing a small notepad, he left his office to greet the guest that his coworker left behind.

“Mr. Snowfield? I was told you need to know more about the program?”

“U…! Uso… It… It can’t be…”

Arthur took a moment to look at the man’s face and went still, as did the man in blue standing before him. The man’s arms went slack as he looked at Arthur with a stunned expression.

“It… It’s really you,” the man, allegedly said to be Joe Snowfield, whispered out loud, the shock never leaving his face.

“Arthur.”

It’s Mr. Yukino.

Vivi’s father.

- - - - - - -

…

…

…

What? What was… What was I doing?

It doesn’t look like anything’s happened, but…

Hey… are you okay?

…

…

…

Even now, I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

We’ve already hurt him enough as is.

It… It may be time to let him go.

…

…

…

Why?! How could you do this?!

None of us wanted this to happen!

I will never forgive you!

…

…

…

How can I…?!

After all what you’ve…!

I…! I…!

…

…

…

If you’re…

If you’re not happy here…

THEN JUST LEAVE!

 * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

I’m not freaking out.

But it feels like time is running out.

How did this shit come about?

I’m not freaking out.

Part 12: But…!

[rorydakota]

Cat back with a new muse and FC. I bring you Lorelai “Rory” Dakota Baudelaire (yes, like the Baudelaire children only I promise her life has less unfortunate events). She’s slightly based off an old muse of mine; but pretty much only two or three things are the same. Otherwise, she’s completely new, which means I’ve not fully developed her yet. I’ve also never played a Dominique Provost-Chalkley FC before; so please be patient with me while I figure out her gifs. Below the cut, you can read a bit about Rory. And like always, don’t hesitate to hit me up for plotting/connections. She could really use them.

[ dominique provost-chalkley, twenty four, cisfemale, she/her ] ━ hey, I just saw [ lorelai “rory” dakota baudelaire ] walking down the streets of crownsville. they’ve lived in town for [ six months ], and you can catch them around town working as a [ travel blogger/activist ]. I hear they’re known to be [ sincere & clever ] and [ naive & reserved ]. if asked, they would say their aesthetic would be [ stacks of old books, elaborate bedtime stories, passport stamps, celebrating deaf culture, fairylights and flower crowns, a warm cup of tea ]. 

History (TW: Chronic Illness, Ableism)

With a name like Baudelaire, one would think the family to be cursed or something; but in actuality, the Baudelaires are a pretty normal upper class family of old French money from Bristol, England. 

Okay, maybe there were a few unfortunate events throughout the years; and most of them seemed to affect the youngest.

Born Lorelai Dakota, Rory is the seventh and final child of Arthur Baudelaire (a cardiothoracic surgeon) and his wife Naomi (a journalist). She was born on September 25th.

At birth, it was discovered that Rory was completely deaf, news that was difficult at first for her parents; but her parents learned that was the lesser of their problems once their daughter was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect called Tetralogy of Fallot.

At only a month old, she underwent her first heart surgery to repair part of defects. Her second heart surgery was performed shortly after her first birthday. This was to fully repair the defects; and while both surgeries were successful, she’d grow up having to be monitored to ensure no complications appeared.

She underwent a third heart surgery at the age of five and a half to fix some lingering issues from the first surgery. It was around the time of this surgery that her parents bought her a stuffed monkey who she named ‘Sunny’. She still sleeps with this monkey every night.

Growing up, her parents were very protective of her, not wanting her to strain herself or her heart too much. She wasn’t allowed to play sports or do anything else too risky. This led young Rory to discover her passion for books and storytelling.

The Baudelaire’s had a library in their home; and that’s where Rory spent most of her childhood days when she wasn’t at school, at a doctor’s appointment, or at a friend’s house.

She preferred the solace of the library. The characters in the books she read never made fun of her speech troubles/lisp or her deaf accent. They just existed and allowed her to live in peace, unlike many of the kids at school who often mocked her (and some of her siblings even mocked her from time to time just to fit in).

Being mocked so much led Rory to leave public school by the age of 11 when her parents enrolled her in a school for the deaf. She thrived there, making friends with many of the other students and become a star in the eyes of her teachers.

One of the things she loved most about books were the many vast worlds she got to explore from the comfort of her home. It made her want to travel the world, visit all the wonderful places she read about.

But travelling outside the British Isles was tough due to her parents’ protective nature. While her family went on a few holidays to countries like France, The Netherlands, Denmark, and Germany,  it wasn’t until she was in university that she was really given the chance to find adventure.

She was fortunate enough to study abroad in Greece for half a year (which her Percy Jackson loving self fangirled over mythology the whole time). It was later blogging about that trip that led her to her current career path.

After coming back from Greece, she began a blog called ‘Diary of a Deaf Adventurer’ which talked about the struggles of being deaf while travelling abroad and facing multiple language barriers.

 Her blog caught the eye of one of her professors; and he showed it to a friend of his who ultimately ended up wanting to sponsor it. He offered to pay for Rory to travel and blog about her experiences, highlighting the difficulties of traveling with a disability and potential solutions for improving the issues faced. 

After she graduated from university with degrees in linguistics, modern languages/cultures, English, and comparative literature, she began travelling (much against the wishes of her parents who worried it’d be too much for her heart). She’s spent the last few years visiting different countries throughout Europe, Asia, and South America. It wasn’t until a few months ago she found herself stateside for the first time.

Initially, her plan was to travel around the USA for a year while also learning ASL. However, she fell in love with the smalltown of Crownsville, GA and decided she wanted to spent a year in the town while taking a break from the constant travel.

She’s been in town for roughly six months now; and honestly, she can’t picture herself leaving any time soon. It’s started to feel like home away from home. She knows she’s got another six months before she leaves; but she’s hoping something will happen that’ll keep her in town just a bit longer.

Likes: Books; Fairylights; Linguistics; Tea; Honey; Wildflowers; Succulents; Libraries; Scrapbooks; Zero Waste; Greek Mythology 

Dislikes: Ableism; Confrontation; Prejudice; Twilight; Cochlear Implants; Plastic; Pity; Slurs

Miscellaneous

She was named ‘Lorelai’ due to her parents simply loving the name; though her middle name of ‘Dakota’ came from a close friend of her mother’s who had passed just before Rory was born.

She got her first pair of hearing aids at the age of 18 months. They were green BTE aids with a glittery clear ear mold. She never changed the style, always opting for green hearing aids when possible. Currently, her hearing aids are silver with a light green glittery ear mold.

She’s never had an interest in getting cochlear implants. As much as her parents tried to push them on her, she’s always declined. She’s fine with her hearing aids, despite knowing a CI might give her slightly more hearing. She doesn’t really want that. She’d rather embrace her deafness given it’s a big part of who she is.

She is a beegan (vegan that eats honey) and has been since she was around 7 years of age. She tried full on veganism for a year in her teens; but she missed honey in her tea too much. If it wasn’t for honey, she’d be fine being a vegan. She’s against eating animals, doesn’t like eggs; and she’s allergic to dairy.

She can best be described as ‘looks like a cinnamon roll and is actually a cinnamon roll’. She’s about as intimidating as a teacup poodle. She’s the type of person who will catch and release a spider instead of squashing it.

She’s gone through over ten years of speech therapy; and while she’s gotten to the point most people can understand what she says more often than not, she was never fully able to get rid of her lisp or the slight monotone tone to her voice. 

Whenever she’s lipreading, her responses are always delayed as she has to take a few moments to process what she was able to read and put together what she missed (she tends to only capture about 40% of what she tries to lipread).

She has a deep fear of dogs that stems from being attacked and bitten by a dog when she was six years old. The attack required multiple stitches; and she’s just had an issue being around dogs ever since.

Her not-so-guilty pleasure is watching episodes of the animated Madeline series when she’s sick or upset. It was her favorite show as a child; and it still has the ability to make her smile.

She collects mugs. Given she’s an avid tea drinker, she’s developed quite the collection of mugs over the years. Her favorites are her Doctor Who TARDIS mug, her L-O-V-E in BSL mug, and her CHD warrior heartbeat mug.

She tries to live as zero waste as possible; so she is known for carrying a reusable orange water bottle wherever she goes as well as for having a reusable metal straw in her bag. She’s also notorious for using canvas totes.

So far, she’s managed to travel to the following places: UK, Ireland, The Netherlands, Denmark, France, Germany, Switzerland, Greece, Italy, Croatia, Serbia, Portugal, Turkey, India, Brazil, Argentina, Costa Rica, USA. 

Some of the places she’d still like to cross off her list of places travelled include: Romania, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Egypt, Morocco, Malta, Israel, Vietnam, Madagascar, and Nigeria (though she’d honestly be excited to travel anywhere). 

Wanted Connections

Older Sibling(s) ━ Rory is the youngest of seven; so it would be nice for one or more of her siblings to end up in Crownsville now that she’s settled into the small town. I picture her having two older sisters and four older brothers. Their names and ages are ultimately utp; though I picture their age range being between 27-39 and I do have name suggestions. The only one whose name isn’t negotiable is Rory’s brother Wolfgang “Wolf”. I have a lot planned for how their relationship was growing up; and I’d love to see him brought to Crownsville the most. OPEN (1/6)

First Friend in Crownsville  ━ This is very straightforward. This connection is for the very first person Rory met in Crownsville and befriended. OPEN (0/1)

Roommate  ━  Rory found herself an apartment shortly after deciding to stay in Crownsville for an extended period of time. She found a roommate initially; but things didn’t quite work out. She needs a new roommate to split the rent with as well as someone to become a close friend. OPEN (0/1)

Ride or Die Bestie  ━ This person has become Rory’s #1 best friend in Crownsville. She feels like she can go to them about anything; and they will always be there for her. They’re the one person she can truly rely on and loves more like family than a friend. TAKEN (1/1)

Future Love Interest ━ Rory is demisexual and has never been in any sort of romantic relationship before. She’s never had the interest. This connection would be for the individual who makes her feel romantic chemistry with someone for the first time. It would be a slow burn relationship. TAKEN (1/1) *I am up for discussing this plot; but I would prefer to see if the chemistry is there before solidifying the connection.*

Doctors  ━ Given Rory’s heart condition, this connection would be for any of the doctors who help treat her while she’s staying in Crownsville. OPEN (0/3)

General Friends; Close Friends; Frienemies; Neighbors, etc.

More to come...

Click here for Rory’s stats page.

[crimsonrevolt]

Congratulations Spencer you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Arthur Weasley ↳ please refer to our character checklist

We were absolutely thrilled to see your app in our inbox!  Arthur is such a beloved character and your characterization left no doubt in our minds that this loving, curious, goofy but responsible guy is him.  One of the things I especially loved about your app is that you talked about Arthur being a capable wizard but not desiring a promotion because he loved the action of his job.  I like to think his passion for his work influenced his children to follow their passions rather than money as well.  Welcome to the family! *your faceclaim change to Arthur Darvill has been accepted

application beneath the cut

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Hello there. I go by Spencer and I am twenty years old. I identify as genderqueer and I don’t have any preferred prnouns, because I answer to all. I am in the GMT +2 timezone, as I live in Belgium.

ACTIVITY

I think that I can manage a seven out of ten level of activity, but I am currently writing a bachelor thesis as well as doing a full-time intership, so sometimes my activity drops. Oh, and I have a long-distance relationship, so I do travel a lot.

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

I just looked through the ‘hp rp’ tag and found a promo post.

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

I don’t know if I identify with any of the characters in Harry Potter, but I like Severus the most. He is very complex and I guess I am too, on quite a lot of levels.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Nothing really, I didn’t find a password so I hope I didn’t read over it.

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Arthur Septimus Weasley

FACE CLAIM

Arthur Darvill

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

Arthur Weasley is my favourite character to play, because his obsession with Muggles is very amusing to me. I think he is a very humerous character, which I can have fun with but he is more than that.

He is a good and honest man, who cares about doing the right thing. He cares about being a good husband and father. While he may not be able to give his family everything in the material sense, he provides them with what he can give: love, guidance, protection… and he will do everything for them. He is a very calm man, but when someone insults or threatens his family, he can get quite angry.

He is very good at charms, transfiguration as well as duelling. He can also apparate, and so he is a very skilled wizard. I love that a character that can be described as kind of goofy, also has

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

Arthur Weasley, to me, is a cis-gender man who uses he/him/his pronouns. My Arthur is biromantic and heterosexual. I think that he could fall in love with a man, on a platonic level but I couldn’t see him have sex with a man or have a relationship with him that includes sex.

I think that Molly is the love of his life. I look forward to exploring their marriage and how they are as parents to little kids, because we’ve seen how they are as parents of teenagers, but I do wonder how they deal with toddlers, so that will be fun to explore.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

Arthur weasley was born on the 6th of February, 1950 to septimus and cedrella weasley (née black). He has two brothers, and arthur is the middle child. He is a pure-blood wizard, but was never brought up with pureblood supremacy beliefs. His father was considered a blood-traitor and even encouraged his son’s interest in muggles, which he has had since a young age. He has always found it fascinating how they were so similar, so much less powerful and still were able to survive and find non-magical solutions to problems.

HWhen he was eleven, he went to ogwarts and was sorted into Gryffindor house. He was a capable wizard, especially good at charms, transfiguration and apparition. He was also very good at studying the history of magic and muggle studies. He’d go on to get N.E.W.T.s in five of subjects, adding to his favourite studies a N.E.W.T. in Study of Ancient Runes which he barely passed, but passed nonetheless.

HHe loved his time at ogwarts, though he never made head boy or anything of the sort. He wasn’t really that interested in being a prefect or a head boy. It just seemed like a lot of work and it didn’t seem fun either. He wasn’t very good at sports, so he never made it onto the quidditch team but he did go out to support them when they played.

He met Molly Prewett, a fellow Gryffindor during his time there and fell madly in love with the witch. They went out for midnight strolls and their love for each other blossomed. He adored every bit of her and it surprised no one that they got married when they graduated.

He had always wanted a big family and he was over the moon when his first son was born on the 29th of november, 1970. They named him William, but called him Billie for short.

A little over two years later, on the 12th of december, 1972 they had their second son. This time they named him Charles, though calling him Charlie from the moment he was born.

Percy Ignatius, their third son was born on august 22, 1976 and Arthur had been hoping for a long time for a third child. They had been trying for three years before Molly got pregnant.

Then there was a surprise. They found out that they were going to have twins and secretly, Arthur was hoping that he’d finally have a daughter. He wasn’t disappointed though, when they got two more little boys. The first one to be born they named Fred and his twin brother, they named George.

While arthur’s family was growing, he got a job at the Ministry but his position wasn’t very well paid. The Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office wasn’t seen as that important and so, he wasn’t paid much. It was hard to make ends meet with their large family, but they always managed and really, Arthur wasn’t that ambitious. He loved the action of his job, which he wouldn’t have as much if he rose in the ranks.

What is going on right now, with the war, is terrifying to him. He is constantly worrying about his wife and children. His family is seen as blood-traitors and unlike other pureblood families, they were poor. That was something that the other families looked down upon. He sympathised with the order, but he couldn’t join. He had a wife and children that depended on him, and they had to be his priority.

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

“A spell that soothes babies and small children would be great! We have babies and toddlers, and the amount of sleep we lose because they just want cuddles can be very tough. I love my children and I don’t mind giving them attention during the day, but in the evening and at night, I want to give my wife attention as well as sleep. So, yes, I’d love that kind of spell.”

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

“I would not take Molly, even though she’d probably be mad about that. Putting her in danger is the last thing I’d do. I think I would take Alastor, I think. He is a great wizard, so I’d feel quite safe with him around. As for an object, I think I might go for a firearm. You never know what you encounter in there and I do want to test them out, to see if they’re effective in the Wizarding World. Oh, not that I’d go in the forbidden forrest to kill, I’d avoid it but again, who knows what might attack me in there!”

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

“Decisions regarding punishments for the kids. I mean, I generally don’t like to be too hard on our boys, because I want them to look back upon their childhood as happy and that they felt loved. I am not trying to say that my wife isn’t loving towards the kids, we just don’t always agree and that is alright. I guess we balance each other out.”

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

“I think that it would be horrible if someone called me a lousy father or a lousy husband, because to me, being there for my family is the most important thing there is. Bill, Charles, Percy, Fred and George along with Molly are my priorities in life and if people preceived that I was not good to them, that would honestly hurt me to my core.”

REACTION TO LAST EVENT DROP

Arthur was shocked by what transpired. He faught against the Death Eaters, to protect Bagnold and the Ministery, but failed. He felt terrible about it and for a few days, he felt hopeless and leaned on his wife to make him feel a little better. Though, when Bagnold made it clear that even though Rodolphus was now in charge or the Ministry, she wasn’t defeated yet and that battle cry made Arthur feel like not everything was lost - not yet.

He now helps Molly by looking after the children as much as he can, while she cares for the wounded together with Hestia and Greta. He doesn’t know what to do about his job though. He is a pure-blood and he could keep on working for the Ministery but the thought of working under Rodolphus and essentially Voldemort makes him sick. His family needs the money though, so right now, he has taken a temporary leave to figure out what to do about that.

WRITING SAMPLE

Arthur sighed as he was walking along Diagon Ally. He had to go buy shoes for the children and he was already counting in his head how much he could spend on that. It wasn’t much, he decided and sighed softly. Ron wasn’t walking yet, so he was in the pushchair and he didn’t need shoes yet - luckily - but the twins’ feet had grown and he could see that their shoes were uncomfortable. That just wouldn’t do.

Fred and George, who were two, were very excited that they could run as all toddlers were and tried to escape at any given moment. Arthur’d charged Percy and Billie to hold their hands, one getting a toddler each and to try and keep them in line, though it wasn’t as smooth sailing as he’d hoped. Charlie, who was only four, had been told to hold onto the pushchair and luckily he did. Yes, they all looked a bit messy, the children were loud and sort of tugging at each other but overall, he was pleased. This was going quite well, he decided.

That was until Fred and George both made an escape and toddled away, surprisingly quickly. “Fred! George!” he yelled, “Boys don’t run after them.” he said, not wanting to lose more children. “Someone stop the ginger toddlers!” he yelled out, not sure what to do. He couldn’t just leave his other children behind. He looked around for help, not sure if anyone would come to hid aid.

[scottstiles]

i was tagged by @clarz - thank you for this! rules: answer questions given by the person who tagged you, write 11 new questions of your own, tag 11 people. 

i’m gonna tag some people today cuz i worked hard on this and it took a long time...whoops. no pressure XD @wellsjahasghost @tylerstitties @runicscribbles @xproskeith @anomalagous @ginevraslovegood @quicklikelight​  @westhallen @lozenger8 @prudence-halliwell @malecbellarke

omg i’m sorry i just realized it’s really long. this is what happens when you take 2 days to answer a tag game. feel free to skip my answers and head to the new Qs if you want! or neither! love you <3

1. Do you find it frustrating that although you know how certain things “work” (for instance, how a love interest not calling you back automatically increases your interest), you can’t help but being drawn in? Can you give me an example? (For the record, this principle describes the entirety of my complicated one-sided relationship with one Harry Edward Styles.)

Yeeeeah i feel like most things in my life approach that level of frustration tbh. I have very little self control sometimes. I’m covered in a haze of addiction, and my impulse control/temper lives on a volatile little rickety branch in my brain where there’s always a lightning storm in the distance. Okay so what I mean is (and I’m not sure i really understand the question but I’m trying), I find it extremely frustrating that I am always aware of what the outcome will be and yet I constantly put myself in the position to be frustrated and/or disappointed by it. Did I get it? Like, if we’re talkin about celebrity obsessions, or having a crush on someone (which, yeah, I guess I kinda remember what that’s like irl), I suppose I’ve come to terms with that kind of distant admiration thing being divorced from reality- I mean, it’s been a life long struggle, so it doesn’t really get to me as much anymore. Usually. The “fangirl” in me is very, very young, and I don’t really know her anymore. If I’m talking about fighting my impulses or my mental health, or like, leaving earlier so I’m not late and then angry in traffic.... that’s a bit more frustrating. I will never leave early. Why? I don’t fucking know. And it’s the Worst. Idk if that fits with your question but yeah, I know how my behavior affects my mood and I could change it, but I don’t, and I can’t help it.

2. What is the longest book or series of books you’ve ever read? Were you at a loss when you finished? Do you generally like series or prefer stand-alone books?

The Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind! I love it so much. Haven’t read it in a long time, but that shit is like over 20 books and he’s still writing.. a legend. I was at a loss several times at the end of certain books that I thought were really gonna be the End, but then he made some like, spin off series a bit. So we’re good. Generally I love a good series, but there are so many stand alone books that I adore so.. I don’t know. Why am I writing so formally? This is tiresome, I’m gonna stop now. Stupid capital letters.

other series i love include everything in the tolkien universe, and of course harry potter, and also the percy jackson books. tolkien is pretty epic, to say the least, and rick riordan is fucking prolific, so hp is like, on the small side in terms of series (tho i did reread the last 2 at least a dozen times, and the audiobooks on many a long drive). also those motherfukcing maze runner books were like... there’s not that many of them, but that one i can definitely say left me at a loss. i’m still not ready to watch the last 2 movies but i hope to one day. for dylan.

3. Ever seen a therapist or gone to a support group? Did it help?

yup. i’ve seen quite a few therapists. i don’t think it’s helped in the long term, and i’m not sure it helped in the short, though there was a time i liked it because i was indulging my self analysis, but that for sure wasn’t helpful. i tried a couple cbt therapists thinking that could be a good way to go, but nothing ever really changed, so it’s hard to tell what’s going wrong- is it the therapy or is it me? idk i just think on the whole it’s got a negative color for me. i still see someone once every few weeks, but it’s a chore. this is really completely against everything i believe about therapy, btw, and i def considered becoming one when i was in university. i do think it’s beneficial, i guess just maybe not to me.

4. What is the longest road trip you’ve ever taken? Did you drive or were you just a passenger? What is your favorite road trip ritual, if you have any (the particular gas station snacks, the car games, the fights over music choices, the rest stops, etc.)?

oh my, well i’ve been on a few road trips in my life, but probably not as many as you americans do. the longest one was probably as a child, when i was about 3 or 4 my parents took us across the states, to the grand canyon (i don’t think we actually got there) in our mustard yellow vw bus. i had to be too small to remember but i definitely do (my dad’s a photographer so the boxes upon boxes of film helps): - sleeping on the ceiling in the bus like on a fucking shelf that stuck out above the driver seats. it was way too cool. - staying in a trailer park and walking over to this little building where there was some scary movie playing that had spinning wheels on fire (i think it was like some 80s horror version of rumpelstiltskin or something). i can literally picture a scene from it, just can’t really describe it. traumatizing. - playing on a beach somewhere (cape cod?) and having something nip at my little toes.

on other trips with friends we’ve shared the driving, but the most recent one from LA to vegas my friend wouldn’t let me touch the rental wheel. he thinks i’m a terrible driver. it was ok tho i got to take pictures instead.

i don’t really have a fave ritual since i don’t do much road “tripping” per se, but since i’ve lived in both toronto and new york i have done a shit ton of driving long distance, and i absolutely love it. my fave thing to do is make sure i have enough show tunes and stand up comedy on the playlist, and even some cds on back up, so i can lose my voice on the drive. usually i have some good ol’ tim horton’s french vanilla and a croissant on the side to keep me going, and if it’s long enough i usually stop somewhere for some french fries and/or a coke to wake up. god i love driving.

5. Which do you find increases more rapidly, your age or your idea of what age is old?

ugh. my age. i don’t feel old but that stupid time nonsense says otherwise. it needs to stop.

6. Do you talk to your animals when no one else is in the room? What do you say to them? Do you talk to animals you see on the street, at zoos, in your yard? How much of a face does an animal have to have to be talk-to-able? (For example, do rodents count? Birds? Fish? Cockroaches? WHERE’S THE LINE)

absolutely. i talk to pretty much fucking everything, animals or otherwise, i don’t care who’s in the room. there is no line. the line does not exist.

7. If they cooked, which dish of your mom’s/dad’s/parental figure is or was your favorite? Which was your least favorite? Do you often cook dishes your parents used to make for you for yourself now, as an adult?

welllllll my parents do cook, but over the years i came to really dislike a lot of my mom’s cooking.. habits, lets say. my dad is great on the bbq, and with all meats, but my mom is usually the organizer and most often the chef. her staples are chicken and brisket, sometimes salmon, in various ways. the problem is i’ve always been a picky eater, and tho my own tastes have branched out, my mom still thinks she needs to cook everything super plain and sometimes it’s kinda gross. like, she’ll make some fancy chicken for everyone else and throw a boneless breast covered in teriyaki sauce in a casserole in the oven for me. it does NOT taste good. but she can make a really great schnitzel, and brisket is hard to do wrong. i don’t make anything for myself the way she does it really, but my eating/cooking habits are all wonky anyway.

8. Do you ever check your voicemail? Do you answer calls from numbers you don’t have programmed into your phone?

i check it if someone left a message, why wouldn’t you? what if it’s an emergency? in fact, my best friend does not. so i guess.. that’s a thing. i for sure do not answer any call that doesn’t show a name that i recognize- even then it’s a stretch. i have to really want/need to talk to you, otherwise it’s gonna be on my terms. my phone and i have a hate-hate relationship.

9. How often do you go to the grocery store? Are you good at it? Do you have any kind of strategy or list prepared beforehand?

i go when i run out of something i wanna eat; my store is right on the corner. i basically just do the curve around the breads/fruits/veggies if i need it, then head to the aisles which i skim from the back where the frozen/refrigerated stuff is, poking in to the aisles i need to grab the shit i’ve run out of. i eat pretty much the same way most of the time so my list is in my head (which is not always a good place, but i try hard. if i forget something i go back for it next time).

10. Do movies frequently make you cry? Do you find you’re more likely to cry in the theater or at home? When people are around or by yourself?

oh hell yes. if they’re good or i’m in a mood. i don’t think it matters much where i am if it’s public or private, the cry will come if the moment is right, and i could give no shits XD

11. Have you ever seen the sun rise? Did you kind of like the weird, slightly chilly liminal space of it, or did you just wish you were still in bed?

yes i have, in so many different contexts. mostly i watch it rise because i stay up That Late most of the time (except this time of year, i haven’t seen it in a good while), wishing my ass was finally in bed going “fuck. there’s the sun again. way to go me.” but i’ve also experienced that first bit. out in the desert after a 16k hike, sweat pouring off my skin and fire burning on the surface, hissing it away. standing on top of an ancient mountain facing the dead sea, limbs aching from climbing it with the sun racing at our backs, trying to get to the top before we missed it rise. ya. sunsets are pretty, too.

so how am i supposed to think of 11 questions?? i hope none of these are from some post i saw one time, i’m gonna try to be original without rambling too much:

1- if you could go back to one major decision you made that impacted the path of your life and change it, would you? what was it? how do you think your life would be different? or don’t answer those second two questions, if you don’t want to.

2- in what direction does your belief lean (like, you don’t have to agree with my description of it, but what fits your image best):

a single/multiple divine power that controls every facet of our existence (or like, any traditional religious worldview), with or without free will?

a harmonious interconnected universal complex that directs matter and energy but is affected by our existence in said universe?

everything is just a series of random events passing through time and everything that happens, everything we do, makes the next thing happen, but it could have happened any other way as well.

do these things make sense? idk try and figure it out.

3- on that topic, what do you think happens when we die? do we go to heaven/hell or some other religious construct? do we have a soul that sticks around? reincarnation? do we just... end, and decompose, and that’s it? what do you really think? are you afraid to find out you were wrong?

4- tell me about a moment in a movie or a show that made you go all tingly inside, like, that really special tingle, and every time you see it you get those feelings again.

5- what’s your go-to method for letting out stress?

6- what are 3 of your favorite words (english or otherwise)? why do you love them? the way they sound? the way they look? what they mean? (i usually would answer this based on sound, kinda like fave color, just a feeling).

7- this isn’t so original but i wanna know- if you could live in any other period of time, in any part of the world, what would it be and why? or would you even? would you if you could choose your station/place in society?

8- is there anything you’ve ever done or ever happened to you that you absolutely never ever could ever tell anyone about? not even your soulmate or someone who would never judge you? if so, does it bother you, or do you have it tucked away in your mind and never think about it?

9- which teen wolf cast member would you get along with best? not who would you like to be in a relationship with, but who do you think you’d have the best relationship with (romantic/platonic/otherwise)? if you don’t think you know any of them well enough... which one would you bone? boooooooooone all night long?

10- do you have a talent/skill that you feel is really underrated or underused by you or others? is there something you’re really proud of but have nobody to brag to about it because nobody you know really cares at all? brag to me.

11- do you think it’s truly possible to be happy if you never have a significant other(s) for the rest of your life? could you ever be?

THAT’S ALL FOLKS. wow i can’t believe i wrote all of that shit and you read it. way to go us. thanks again, clara!