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messers-moony · 3 years

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Paring: Regulus Black X Daughter!Reader

Summary: At first it was for him, now everything he does is for her.

Warnings: Rape, cursing, death, etc

Being wise comes with living. Dumbledore had lived a lot of years. Everyone knows that. The man worked his way up the hierarchy from being a Transfiguration teacher to the headmaster at Hogwarts. He was even offered a place as the Minister of Magic. What people didn’t comprehend or, rather, didn’t think about was, when living that long you realize every button to push, every nook and cranny to get your way.

Manipulation at its finest. Now, truth be told, manipulation isn’t always evil. It can be good, per se, manipulating someone to stop doing something that’s particularly harmful - alcohol, smoking. But when used negatively, it could make everything worse.

The Order of the Phoenix was manipulated. From beginning to end. Dumbledore convinced the young kids - naive kids - that they were safe and that’s what they needed. These kids needed reassurance that everything would be okay, and Dumbledore assured them that they were safe.

But were they safe when the McKinnon family died? Were they safe when Fabian and Gidian Prewett died? Could James and Lily truly depend on Dumbledore to keep them safe with a newborn?

When Sirius Black joined the order, he had one request. Just one. A linear, singular request. It was saving Regulus Black. That’s all Sirius wanted, was for his little brother to be safe. Sirius knew about Regulus being a death eater, and he needed saving. Regulus didn’t want this life, and he especially didn’t want this with a baby girl.

He was seventeen, and he was forced. Sirius knew it. James knew it. Remus knew it. Regulus had come to the Gryffindor portrait crying on his knees, begging - no - pleading for his older brother. The Fat Lady was cursing him out for not having the password and being a Slytherin. Luckily, James heard the ruckus and ran to his aid. He was yelling for Sirius.

“Sirius! Sirius, I need you!” James had never sounded so frantic, so panicky, “Sirius, now!”

Sirius threw the textbook on the floor. James’ voice reminded him of an alarm - crazed, loud, repetitive. The black-haired boy ran down the dorm steps, almost falling over his feet to see the portrait wide open. Everything went in a vignette, zoomed in and black around the edges. Immediately Sirius was pushing James off his little brother and embracing him tightly.

“S- Sirius.”

Godric, he sounded so broken, “‘S okay, Reggie. ‘S okay. I got you. It’s me, Sirius. You’re safe here, Frère.”

“It- It hurts.” Regulus muttered, his voice shaky and helpless, “Need you.”

“You’re okay.”

Sirius looked up into James’ worried hazel eyes, “C’mon. We’re bringing him up.”

“Are you mental?!”

“James, he’s my brother!”

James scowled, “He’s also a Slytherin!”

“He needs me. I’m not letting him go.” It was the first time Sirius’ voice had gone stern with James, “Either I’m sleeping out here with my brother, or you’re helping me bring him up to the dorm.”

“Fine, fine.”

Sirius looked down at his brother, who was tucked under his chin, silver streams trailing down his flushed cheeks. His cheeks glistened with anguish and pain. His fists were balling the back of Sirius’ white button-up, tightly, stressed.

“Reggie.” For the first time, Regulus didn’t cringe, and instead, he melted into Sirius’ warmth, “James and I are going to bring you into our dorm, okay?”

“Mhm.”

Gently Sirius helped him up, placing an arm around his shoulder. James put his other arm around his shoulder. Both boys helped the sixth year into the Gryffindor common room, getting multiple stares and glares. Regulus managed to up the stairs onto Sirius’ bed, a sniffling and trembling mess.

James smiled gently at them, and Sirius sat beside Regulus on the edge of his bed, “What happened?”

“She- She forced me. I didn’t want to. Please, Sirius, I didn’t want this.”

“Want what?”

“She touched me.” Regulus whispered, and Sirius rubbed his back, “I- I didn’t want it….”

Sirius hesitated, “Did- Did mum have anything to do with this?”

Regulus nodded, and silent tears fell down his cheeks, “She- Mum, is the reason. I was supposed to be arranged to this woman but- but she did this and- and-“

“It’s too much.” Regulus wailed.

Sirius held his brother close until he fell asleep. The trails of tears dried on his cheeks, and Sirius laid his head on the feathery pillow. The fleece comforter was placed over his wrinkled button-up, black pants, and socks. Regulus’ black curls contrasted the pillow, and his cheeks were a pale pink. Sirius had never felt so upset.

Releasing a breath of air, he left the dorm room to go to the common room where the boys were sitting. James perked up, and Remus’ head was pulled into a book, a cup of tea on the table beside him. Peter was playing chess with a fellow Gryffindor across the room, not paying attention to anything but the checkered table before him.

“Is he okay?”

Sirius plopped beside James, “He will be.”

The silence was killing Remus to the point of his curiosity tipping over, “What happened exactly?”

“Some girl, my mum, arranged him with did something that he didn’t consent to.”

The teacup that was in Remus’ hand dropped to the carpeted floor, staining, “You’re shitting me?”

Regulus was in pain, physically and emotionally. Although the boys didn’t understand completely, they understood that Sirius’s time would be dedicated to his little brother. No matter what was going on in the wizarding world at present, Sirius’ time was needed with Regulus.

It was nine months later. Thirty-nine weeks later. Two hundred and seventy-three days later. Left on the doorstep of the Noble House of Black’s residence was a baby girl. Orion and Walburga had left the house previously, leaving Regulus alone with Kreacher, their house elf. The baby girl was crying and helpless.

His lifeless grey eyes met the young girl's e/c ones, and everything clicked. This was the product of his emotional pain in his sixth year. Regulus couldn’t deny the warmth in his heart looking at the young girl. Gently he leaned down to take her in his arms. A pink silk blanket wrapped around her to keep her warm despite the summer months.

Once in his arms, the girls stopped crying. The warmth of his body and the softness in his eyes calmed her down. There was an envelope inside the baby blanket, which Regulus opened after placing the sleeping child on his lap. Essentially the letter was telling him to name the baby girl and her birthday. Along with now that the marriage was called off, she wanted nothing to do with him.

Regulus threw the parchment to the side furiously. Despite his frustration, he picked up his daughter and smiled at her, “I dunno what to name you precious.”

The girl wrapped her hand around his thumb that had been caressing her cheek, “Y/n? I like that name.”

She smiled, and so did he, “You like that too, don’t you, précieux.”

Regulus placed a kiss on Y/n’s forehead, rocking her back and forth, “I love you so much.”

During the school year, Y/n stayed with Sirius, who was overjoyed to stay with his niece. Regulus only saw his daughter one more time before he decided it was his end. Regulus knocked on Sirius’ flat, looking utterly exhausted. Sirius answered with a big smile on his face.

“Heya Reggie!”

Regulus struggled to smile, “Hey, Siri.”

“Come on.” Sirius beckoned, “Y/n is sleeping, but you can see her if you’d like.”

He walked in to see a door open to a small room. Inside it was painted in a pale lavender color with white furniture. Regulus walked inside to find a crib with his one-year-old girl sleeping inside. She made this so much harder. Regulus didn’t want to do this, but he needed to do it if he wished Y/n to have a safe life.

Regulus’ arms cradled his daughter to his chest, “I love you, précieux. I love you too much to express. I know that you’ll never remember me. I’m praying that Sirius will tell you about me.”

“You’re my baby girl. You’ll always be my baby girl.” Regulus’ eyes welled with tears, “And- And I’ll be with you no matter what.”

Y/n’s eyes opened, and she smiled, being cradled in her father's arms, “Dada?”

Regulus had tears streaming down his face, and Sirius watched from the doorway, “Yes, hi petite fille.”

She giggled, and Regulus had the brightest smile on his face; he nuzzled his nose with hers, “Dada’s here, little girl.”

He spent an hour with her. The last sixty minutes of his freedom was spent cooing and coddling. Regulus wanted to engrave her beautiful e/c eyes in his head, her soft smile, smooth skin, and fuzzy hair. Regulus placed his daughter back in the crib and kissed her forehead one more time.

Walking back out into the living room of the flat, he saw Sirius waiting for him. Regulus didn’t make any appoint to try and sit down. That’s how Sirius knew was something wrong. He released an air of breath and dried his tears.

“Sirius, you may have to keep Y/n with you a little longer until it’s safe, okay?”

“‘Course Reggie.”

“If- If I don’t come back-“

“Don't say that, please.”

Regulus looked at his brother solemnly, “But it’s realistic.”

“Okay, just- try to make it back.” Sirius replied.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try.” He lied, “I- I want you to tell her about me, yeah?”

Sirius chuckled, “You’re her father, Regulus. I wouldn’t not tell her.”

“Don’t let her mum take her. I don’t care what she says Y/n will be in your care.”

Sirius nodded, “One- One more thing. This may sound stupid but, teach her French?”

“Teach her French? Why?”

“It’s how I used to talk to her before seventh year started. I want her to know how to speak it. French was something I enjoyed learning, something that kept me sane at our horror house.” Regulus confessed, “I want her to learn it.”

“If it means that much to you, Reggie.” Sirius replied, and Regulus nodded, “It does.”

“Then Y/n will learn French, after English.”

“Good.”

Regulus began walking out the door when he felt arms around him from behind and a head in the crook of his neck, “Come back alive, okay?”

“I’m gonna try, Siri.”

He never came back alive. Regulus walked toward the entrance of that cave, knowing that today he was going to die. In the start, this was for Regulus to right his wrongs. Now it’s for his daughter. If anything, Y/n deserved a happy, exciting life. Not one of pain and suffering like Regulus had.

The Daily Prophet the next day said everything it needed to, “REGULUS BLACK DECLARED DEAD.” This was it. Regulus had inevitably left his daughter and got himself killed. Sirius cried - sobbed - for his little brother who had a child. He wept for his niece, who would grow up not knowing her father.

Ten years later, Y/n was getting ready for her first year at Hogwarts. Sirius had introduced baby Harry with one-year-old Y/n at the time where they became best friends. Harry was gravely disappointed at his best friend leaving but excited that he’d see her the following year.

In the bathroom, Y/n was sitting in front of the mirror with Sirius behind her. Sirius was brushing her hair, not because she couldn’t do it but because Sirius didn’t really want to let her go. After setting the brush on the counter, he placed his hands on her shoulders, looking at her in the mirror. She looked so much like him. His hands twirled through her h/c hair.

“You look like your father.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, “I- I do?”

“You do.”

“I don’t remember much from him.” Y/n stated, “I remember him calling me précieux, vaguely, which I know now is precious.”

Sirius chuckled, “He also made me teach you, French. It was one of his wishes before he- you know.”

“Why?”

“Learning French is a pure-blood thing. Regulus said it kept him sane.” Sirius answered, “I honored that even if I hated that language.”

It was silent for a while, “You know, sometimes when you’re angry, you just start ranting in French?”

“I don’t!”

Sirius laughed, “You do. You definitely do, amour.”

Y/n giggled, and Sirius began tickling her sides. Her laughter and smile were contagious, just like how Regulus’ was. Regulus had such an infectious laugh and beautiful smile. Sirius was almost glad Y/n inherited it. After tickling her, she melted into Sirius’ embrace, hugging him tightly.

“Je t'aime, oncle Sirius.”

“Je t'aime aussi, amour.”

It was a system Sirius had created with her instead of saying, “Toujours Pur,” like his mother had made him and Regulus say. Y/n is what made him love French again. The way she swore in the language unintentionally. How she’d say the language like a native, just like her father. It meant everything to him.

Years later. Y/n was in fifth year, and the Triwizard tournament members had just been called. Viktor Krum was called first. Then Fleur Delacour. Then Cedric Diggory. That was meant to be the finality, but nonetheless, Harry Potter’s name got called. As all the members walked into a room away from the Great Hall, Dumbledore began speaking to the worried children.

One sentence stood out to Y/n particularly, “Help will always be given at Hogwarts for those who deserve it.”

It brought so much rage in her that she couldn’t help but speak, “That’s bullshit!”

Everyone stared with jaws slack, “My father deserved help! Hell, he needed to be saved, and here because of your bullshit, he died! My father is gone because of you and your shitty manipulative ways!”

“He may have been a death eater, but it wasn’t what he wanted. Godric, he needed saving! His own brother turned on him. So fuck you and fuck your stupid sayings. Because you aren’t a saint, and I don’t have to fall to your knees like a worthless soldier.”

Dumbledore was astonished by her attitude as she began leaving the Great Hall, “That's one hundred points from Gryffindor, Ms.Black!” McGonagall yelled.

“Pardonnez mon français, mais je m'en fous.” Y/n yelled as she flicked off everyone in the room.

Before she left, she turned around and faced everyone, “If anyone- and I mean anyone, touches, talks badly, or even remotely glares at Harry Potter, so help me, I won’t hesitate to hex you.”

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badbookopinions · 3 years

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A Deadly Education - The Scholomance #1, Naomi Novik

A+: this was a delight. Fun, a little horrifying, and great dynamics between characters.

In the Scholomance, there are no teachers, no holidays, and no friendships, save strategic ones. Survival is more important than any letter grade, for the school won’t allow its students to leave until they graduate… or die! The rules are deceptively simple: Don’t walk the halls alone. And beware of the monsters who lurk everywhere. El has astonishing destructive powers but no allies - until she forms an unlikely friendship with God’s gift to humanity, Orion Lake. (adapted from the Goodreads page)

This book has been called racist. I personally don’t think it deserves all the flak it’s getting - I explain my feelings on the matter below the cut. The mistakes Novik made were few (throwaway sentences, not plot points) and they were due to being misguided rather than being malicious.

I had such a good time with this, and can’t wait to see where the series goes next. It’s the sort of story where things get better as they go on, I think, which is one of my favourite types. Grumpy, antisocial El collects friends against her will in this book, and I can’t wait to see what those friends do in the next.

This is the one school story I’ve read that feels like how high school feels for me - which sounds like an exaggeration, with the amount of death going on here. But the constant stress, working at every second, exclusively talking to your friends about schoolwork, and worrying at every second about final exams or what you’re going to do once you get out there into the world and have to deal with real-world problems, which are somehow worse? That’s what high school is like, and I did not anticipate the story to get it right would be one in which characters are routinely killed by monsters.

While El spends a little too much time narrating the way the school and the world works and a little too little time on action, she’s such a charismatic protagonist and Novik has made such an enjoyable world that I almost didn’t mind.

Also, Orion and El’s relationship? A joy to read. It was definitely a departure from the mature, balancing-of-power-dynamics of Uprooted and Spinning Silver. It’s the perfect hero and a loser who really enjoys being mean to him, and it’s entertaining and teenage and a little bit adorable.

Plot: surprisingly little of it, but it worked well. It isn’t exaggerating to say El spends more than half of the book just explaining the world to the audience. Since the whole plot takes place in just a couple weeks, though, it works better than I was expecting it to.

Characters: excellent. El - Galadriel Higgins, a half-Indian girl raised by her hippie white mother in a peace-and-love commune, foretold as someone who will destroy worlds. I adore her. And while Orion, God’s perfect moster-killing himbo, and their relationship is pretty great, what I really loved was El making friends with two other girls. Aadhaya and Liu, who I’d love to see more of in later books because they were charming and intriguing.

Setting: this was great. And I’m not just saying that because Novik specifically mentions Toronto as home to an excellent enclave (aka small community of wizards) and I’m biased to anyone who’s kind to my home city. You can tell that Novik took inspiration from Harry Potter, but she’s made something entirely new out of it. A fully realized and slightly horrifying school, plus thinking about how the magical world works outside the school.

Prose: El talks SO MUCH. Seriously, my one problem with this book was that there’s SO much introspection. Since I liked El, I had no issues with it. Also, props for this banger of a first sentence: “I decided that Orion needed to die after the second time he saved my life.”

Diversity report: so there are two main concerns against this book - an Indian protagonist who’s divorced from her heritage, and a paragraph about dreadlocks in which El was talking about the danger of monsters nesting in long hair and called out dreadlocks specifically. The paragraph about dreadlocks was actually removed from the version I read, so I found out about it later - it’s not my place to talk about whether this was inexcusable or not, though Novik has apologized. However, I am Indian, and I don’t think that El was bad South Asian representation. First, her father’s Marathi family was described respectfully and kindly. Secondly, Aadhaya is South Asian and is connected to her culture, and El is making attempts to connect to her culture through studying languages and history. Thirdly, Novik got the microaggressions that come with being brown right - every time El mentions some white person discussing yoga with her it was very familiar. I think that Novik could very easily have made an all-white story and wouldn’t have been cancelled, but that she chose to strive for representation in her works, and was held to a ridiculously high standard because of that. She would have benefitted from her sensitivity reader giving it another once-over, but that doesn’t mean this book isn’t still a great read. And this is a fantasy series with a South Asian main character - this is still incredibly rare, and I was delighted when I found out.

#the scholomance #a deadly education #naomi novik #badbookopinions #desi characters #Magic #school stories #setting!#a+ rating #high romance #characters!#young adult

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littlemessyjessi · 4 years

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“Come Away With Me” : Regulus Black: Plus Size and Shortie : Chapter One “Prisoner”

Reggie deserved better and by Godric he’s gonna have it.

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You keep makin' it harder to stay But I still can't run away I gotta know, why can't you Why can't you just let me go?

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“Prisoner” - Miley Cyrus ft. Dua Lipa

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The turning point for Regulus Arcturus Black came the summer before his sixth year.

History was repeating itself.

Walburga Black stared down at her youngest son, seeing nothing more than Sirius in that moment.

She'd warned him about that girl.

Aurora Monroe, or Rory, had been Regulus' best friend since their first day.

It would seem that the Black brothers had a penchant for befriending half blood, half breed combinations.

But that wasn't why Walburga hated the girl.

She didn't even know Rory was a werewolf.

But she did know that she was a half blood and she knew that she was a Monroe.

And that was enough for her to hate her.

Two families who had been at each other's throats since what seemed like the beginning of time.

It all came down to money.

As most things did.

They were two of the wealthiest families in the wizarding communities of England.

Thus it was a constant competition and rivalry set in a long time ago.

The Black had old money that came from a long line of aristocracy.

The Monroe's built their fortune and built it rather quickly and also managed to spite a Black ancestor in the process.

And thus began the fued.

Walburga had warned her son, over and over again about being around her but he didn't listen.

Regulus was far more mild mannered than Sirius but at his core...he was actually truly very stubborn.

And he refused to budge on that.

She'd threatened to blast him off the family tree just like she had Sirius.

A moment that was still burned into Regulus' memory.

But still he held steadfast.

But then she snapped the final chord.

Her and Orion had never joined Voldemort and his band of followers but she supported them.

And she had every intention of Regulus joining the ranks.

Even if meant she had to force him.

It wasn't even that she was willing to force him to do something.

He was used to that.

But he knew what that meant.

It meant a death sentence for Rory and Regulus would burn it all down before he let that happen.

He flew up the stairs and into his room rummaging around for the mirror he and Rory had gotten from Zonko's before the summer.

"Rory! Aurora!" he called into the mirror.

He could hear her fumbling for a second before her freckly scarred face appeared.

"Hey, Regs!" she broke into a grin but it quickly faded when she could see the distress on his face. "Regulus, what's wrong? What happened?"

"I gotta get out of here." he said, struggling to breathe. "Right now."

"Ok, ok. What happened? Are you ok?" she asked, amber eyes searching him through the mirror.

"I'm fine. But I gotta go. I'll be ok. But I needed to tell you just in case you don't hear from me for a bit." he said holding the mirror with one hand and shoving things into his trunk with the other.

A loud banging at the door caused his head to snap the side and the unlocking charm could be heard as his mother opened the door.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" she screeched and Aurora gasped.

"Who is that?!" Walburga snapped and snatched the mirror out of Regulus' hand.

She seethed as she took in the sight of Aurora Monroe on the other side of it.

Regulus didn't even have time to prepare for impact when Walburga backhanded him and threw the mirror across the room.

Aurora's angry scream could be heard right before it shattered and Regulus looked at his mother in horror as she advanced.

"The only way you leave this house is over my dead body." she whispered and Regulus looked up at her in horror.

"That can be arranged."

The two of them turned to look at the tiny figure in the door who had clearly just apparated into mass chaos.

Amber eyes ablaze and white hair like a halo around her.

She was furious.

Aurora looked nothing short of an angel of death.

"You little bitch!" Walburga growled. "Stupid filthy mudblood! You'll be expelled for using magic outside of Hogwarts."

Aurora smirked, "I'm of age, you musky hussy."

Walburga drew her wand and Regulus panicked.

"No!" he said lunging at his mother but Aurora had already cast the spell to disarm her.

Walburga grabbed Regulus by the hair jerking his head back.

She narrowed her eyes at Aurora who absolutely refused to back down.

"You're not taking him." Walburga spat.

"You let him go or I snap this in half and turn it over to the ministry. And I'm betting there's a fair share of unforgivable curses lingering in this wood." Rory said.

She and Walburga stared at each other for the longest time before Walburga's eye twitched.

She pulled her hand back and Regulus squeezed his eyes preparing for the blow when suddenly the pressure was released from hair and he stumbled to regain his balance.

Aurora had stunned Walburga and sent her flying back into the wall where she now lay unconscious.

She performed the body bind curse on her and turned to Regulus.

"Get what you need, Regs. We gotta go. Right now." she said sternly but he was too shocked to move.

She sighed and reached out to touch his arm, "Reggie, we gotta go. Right now. Get the essentials."

He seemed to snap out of it and shoved a few things in his trunk before grabbing his broom out of his closet.

"Is there anyone else home, Regs?" she asked as she kept a watchful eye over Walburga's unconscious form and the door.

"No." Regulus shook his head. "Just Kreacher. Oh fuck."

It dawned him in that moment.

"Kreacher!" he called out.

A second later the house elf appeared with a pop and promptly began to freak out over Walburga.

"Mistress!" he wailed.

"Kreacher, please." Regulus said. "I know, I know. But she was..."

"She was attacking Master Regulus again?" he asked and Regulus nodded.

"I have to go, Kreacher. Come with us. I can give you clothes and free you. I haven't been blasted off the tree yet." he pleaded with the elf who had become his friend over the years.

He knew better though.

"Kreacher must stay in the Noble House of Black." he said solemnly.

And suddenly Regulus understood how Sirius must have felt when he had to leave.

He didn't really have a choice but Regulus wouldn't go with him just like Kreacher wouldn't go now.

"Kreacher will keep the Mistress asleep." the elf said.

Aurora watched and Regulus knelt to hug the elf once more before grabbing his trunk and slinging his broom over his shoulder.

"Ok." he said, passing a hand over Kreacher's head once more.

Aurora stepped forward and Regulus wound his arm through hers before she turned and apparated away.

As they disappeared into thin air, Regulus' eyes watered.

Sadness, relief, fear.

It was all mixed into one but one thing was for sure.

Everything changed from that moment on.

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Chapter Two Coming Soon

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Keep Scrolling after author’s note for additional story pics!

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Hello, loves! I hope you enjoy this Regs story! It’s a tragedy what happened to Reggie and he was done really dirty both in his story and the lack of story we get for this multi dimensional selfless character! So he’s gonna have some good times in this story, dammit!

Anyway, I love you all and I would love to hear from you! Please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, via reblog or just hit up the ask box!

I love you all.

Love,

Kenny

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Also, feel free to imagine Regs anyway you like but I do like him as Timothee Chalamet... like a lot of people because Timmy is precious. Also, I feel this gif perfectly encompasses his time in that hell hole. It’s ok, Reggie bebe. Mama’s got you. I’ll give you cocoa and noms and blankies. It’ll be ok now.

Some inspiration pics for Rory!

These all played a part in the inspiration for Aurora’s hair. Rory’s hair turned white with stress due to her condition much like how Remus’ hair started greying early.

I particularly loved the color of the first and how floofy it was. But I love the texture and also the poof of the second. I also absolutely adored the second lady’s freckles which I picture Rory’s being absolutely littered with.

Aurora has golden brown eyes. Warm like the sun. Here are a few inspiration pics.

I also used these and the picture from the freckled girl with the yellow top as inspiration for her skin tone as I see Aurora as very brown but dashed in freckles and heavily scarred just due to years of being afflicted with lycanthropy. I also think it makes a striking contrast with her hair and such an juxtaposition against Regs’ fair features and dark hair.

This was my main inspiration for Rory’s scars. She has them all over her but perhaps the most noticeable is the one on her face and I feel this one encompasses it perfectly.

As far as height went I couldn’t find many pics for inspiration so I begrudgingly used my own tiny form of 4′11″ as reference lol. She is smol bean like me. I did find some body inspos though! Rory is very fluffy!

I don’t always show my inspo pics for characters but I felt like it was nice thing to start to do as it always helps me begin to form the layout of a character. And I love you all so I figured it’d be a nice thing to share.

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@ main-feetoffthetable

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Btw, the only tags I do is for my permanent tag list but if you ever want to be added to that, all you have to do is just go to the ask box and ask to be added! I’d be happy to do so!

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Also, if you love the Marauders feel free to check out some of my recent Marauder works!

Chasing Jess (Sirius Black and Jess Scamander)

A Deal With Cupid (James Potter x Reader)

All Fun and Games (Poly Marauders Fics)

Talking to the Moon (Remus Lupin x Reader)

Torn (Remus Lupin x Rowan Black)

And honestly so many more.

I’m kind of a ho for Harry Potter and an outright slut for the Marauders. Just being honest.

#regulus black #regulus arcturus black #regulus black x aurora monroe #reggie x rory #marauders #marauders era #young regulus black #plus size #ps #short #werewolf character #plus size oc #plus size ofc #short oc #short ofc

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carewyncromwell · 4 years

Photo

Cinderella AU time again at last, baby!! Let’s do this!

Florence’s “Christmas Witch” is inspired by Italy’s Le Befana, who like Santa Claus/Father Christmas and his many variations serves as a holiday gift-giver to young children. Given that in this universe, Florence is more favorable toward magic than its rival nation Royaume, I figured them having a similar tradition was appropriate.

The background depicted in this picture is based on this window from a guest apartment in the Chateau de Chambord in France, though of course this is the outside of such a window, rather than the inside. Damn it, do I hate backgrounds with a burning passion. XD;;

In my headcanon, Orion suffers from anxiety. Anxiety disorders aren’t uncommon among children who were raised in orphanages, and a common visual cue for anxiety is clasping one’s hands in front of them, which Orion does constantly in the game Hogwarts Mystery. Plus two types of therapy prescribed for dealing with anxiety are meditation and regular physical activity (like Quidditch! :D). For safety, though, I also want to put in a trigger warning for this part -- be advised that there will be some discussion of PTSD and war-related trauma, around the middle of this.

Previous part is here -- full tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

The morning after Royaume’s Winter Festival, Skye was surprised to find Orion in Florence’s palace library. Admittedly he was balancing on one foot with one leg crossed over the other on the step near the top of a tall ladder while reading, which was very typical of Orion -- but the book was a very thick volume on the weaving of various fabrics, and he was devouring it with intense interest while vaguely humming a tune under his breath that Skye didn’t recognize.

“Oh willow, willow, willow...willow...”

Skye cleared her throat to try to get the Prince’s attention. “Hey...Orion?”

Orion, however, was too focused on what he was reading. It took Skye striding over, stating his name twice more, and finally giving the ladder a light smack to get his attention.

“Orion! Mind coming back down to Earth for a minute?” she said, her voice oddly tense. “I need to talk to you.”

Orion stopped humming and looked up from the book at last, his expression rather pleasant.

“Skye...you’ve returned from the front.”

Skye frowned. “Yeah...Dad’s nearly recovered from his injuries. Penny Haywood wanted to thank you for the herbs you picked up.”

Orion inclined his head slightly. “I’m glad to hear your father’s condition has improved.”

Skye nodded, looking faintly guilty.

“...Orion...I’m sorry about what I said the other day,” she said uncomfortably. “I was just so worried about Dad and his troops, and you being all wrapped up in this girl who works for the enemy...it just...it rattled me, I guess.”

“Florence and Royaume should not be enemies for all time,” said Orion patiently. “If there is to be peace, the mistakes both sides have made in the midst of the War will have to be forgiven.”

“I know,” muttered Skye. “And...well, I know how you feel about the War -- about war and fighting in general. It just feels like what you’re doing is so slow, and people are hurting, and...”

She hung her head.

“I know it’s no excuse, for what I said, but...I am really sorry.”

Orion’s black eyes softened. “It’s already forgiven and forgotten, my friend.”

Skye looked very relieved. Her face burst into a smile.

“...Thanks, Orion. I gotta admit, I...kind of want to meet this ‘Lady Cromwell’ now, after everything you told McNully and me about her. She sounds a bit too good to be true, but...well, I never really thought I’d ever hear of a Royaumanian defending magic...especially one of their courtiers.”

Closing the book in his hands with a quiet snap, Orion lowered the leg he had bent beside the one he was balancing on.

“Fortunately I think you’ll have the chance to do so very soon,” he said with a smile. “Last night was an unquestionable success.”

He leapt down the rungs of the ladder with alternating feet, all the way back down to the floor with a light thump.

“I went to the Winter Festival and met the Prince of Royaume himself.”

Skye gave a start. “You what?”

Orion was beaming from ear to ear. “It was all thanks to Carewyn, appropriately enough. She was the one who arranged it so that he could sneak out of the palace disguised as a peasant and attend the Winter Festival, even with the King and Queen keeping him so strictly contained. Prince Henri himself even said as much, that it was all Carewyn’s doing. Imagine...because of her, the two princes of rival nations were able to meet on completely neutral ground as equals. And now that we’ve been introduced and I have a better fix on Prince Henri’s character, I have a great opportunity to open negotiations in full.”

Skye looked rather impressed, even as her face twitched with discomfort.

“That’s...smashing, Orion,” she granted halfheartedly.

Orion raised his eyebrows curiously. “I would say so...but your aura doesn’t seem to agree with your words.”

With a deepening, guilty frown, Skye reached into the hanging pocket attached to her faded blue skirt and took out a sealed letter, which she handed to Orion.

“The King asked me to bring this back for you,” she said lowly, as Orion opened it and began to read. “He’s requested you and McNully to join him at the front.”

Orion’s face had lost all of its pleasantry, leaving it very stony and unreadable, as his black eyes scanned the letter once, twice, three times.

“McNully’s gone to get the coach ready,” said Skye lowly. “He said that he’d meet us just inside the castle gate.”

The ride from the Florentine royal palace to the battlefield at the northern-most border of Royaume and Florence was a stressful one. Once anyone exited the capitol’s walls, the War was immediately much more visible, since most of the War was fought on Florentine soil. Plus many of those magicians who specialized in casting spells were encouraged to settle closer to the wealthier hubs of the country, so that they could cast temporary illusions to obscure certain buildings whenever the opposing army got too close. That was how people such as Florence’s court magician, Severus Snape, had attained such a respectable status.

Orion spent the entire coach ride sitting with his legs crossed, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, and his eyes closed so he could meditate. Despite his eyes being closed, however, when they arrived at their destination, he could hear the shrieks of wheels on old wagons, the whinnying of unsettled horses, and suppressed moans of pain, and he could smell the burnt wood, gunpowder, and indescribable smell that could only be labeled as “death.” Even just the sounds and smells brought all the memories flooding back -- his and his mother’s house set ablaze...the rearing horses with Royaume blue and red on their saddles...the deafening explosions and the gray ash that rained from the sky...his mother’s light-less eyes and his own labored breathing and clutching, shaking hands...

Orion had never been blind to how run-down much of his country was, but its problems only became more apparent the closer one got to the border, and especially to the war front. Every building was brand-new and cheaply built, for they no doubt had been built and rebuilt several times over and their occupants didn’t have the funds to build it back as well as before. And then once one approached the army camp itself, there were just about no buildings or fortresses at all, since it was so hard to keep them from being demolished. Instead all the Florentines really had were tents that wouldn’t stand up to most any elements. In the freezing cold of winter, many had been crowded under groves of trees, in a vain attempt to try to protect them from the snow that had buried their neighbors, and there were large bonfires set up everywhere where the soldiers gathered, just to warm their bundled hands and feet. One small fire featured a cooking pot and some sort of foul-smelling soup -- it took Orion a moment to realize the smell was burning leather.

It was tragic to think of how many men back in the Florentine capitol like Lord Malfoy had become very rich because of the increased danger of shipping goods through war zones, while the men who actually had to stay in that war zone had to cook their own boots and eat them for sustenance.

Orion did not open his eyes even when the carriage came to a stop. It was proving harder to find his center of balance when the smell of gunpowder outside made the memory of terrified screams and crackling wood pound against his eardrums.

Inhale. Exhale. Let go. Find your center. Balance.

He felt someone lightly touch the top of his clasped hands. When he opened his eyes, he saw that it was Skye.

“...We’re here,” she mumbled. Clearly she knew she was stating the obvious, but didn’t know what else to say.

Orion looked from her to McNully sitting next to her, his eyes very dark even though his face was rather unreadable. McNully looked very grim as he slowly opened the door to the coach. As soon as he did so, someone outside announced very loudly,

“Presenting his Highness, Crown Prince Cosimo Amari VII, heir to the throne of Florence!”

With a swallow, Orion slid his legs down to the floor and, unclasping his hands at last, he hoisted himself up as best he could, took hold of the door frame, and climbed out of the coach. He held his head up high and didn’t shrink, but his eyes were rippling turbulently like oil under candlelight as they surveyed the barren landscape.

Men by the dozens were being carried away on stretchers toward a large off-white medical tent -- even more were being carried away from it or, worse, not even coming close to it at all, for it was already too late. They were too badly injured for Penny Haywood’s potions to save -- for as powerful as magic could be, life and death were inevitable things. The gray-haired flower witch who’d given Orion the charm around his neck had told him so, the Prince recalled, as his hand absently came up to trail over the circular pendant. He’d asked her if she could stop someone from dying, and the sweet grandmotherly woman had looked upon him with an incredibly sad, pitying look.

“Death isn’t something anyone can stop, I’m afraid. One can put it off, certainly...I’ve been able to give people some extra time with my potions, but only by putting in a lot of my own time and energy. And even after putting in that time and energy, there are still plenty of people who I couldn’t work fast enough to help. That’s one of magic’s Chief Principles -- potions take time, but their effects last longer.”

The Prince of Florence tried to bring the cooling, calming sensation that had accompanied the charm around his neck when the woman had first given it to him back to his mind, as the smell of death that hovered over the camp made his heart chill and his stomach churn.

Orion could sense Skye climbing out to stand beside him, and not long after, McNully had lowered himself into the wheeled chair the footman detached from the boot of the coach. By the time McNully and Skye had joined him on the ground, a royal entourage had approached them, introduced by the captain who’d announced Orion’s arrival --

“Presenting his Majesty, Cosimo Amari V, Master and Commander of the Florentine Army, Lord of the Southeastern Sea, King of Florence!”

An older man about Orion’s height with a short mane of graying dark hair and just as strong of a jaw strode forward. Although he greatly resembled Orion visually, however, their physical attitudes couldn’t be any more different: as relaxed and modest as Orion was, the King of Florence appeared traditional and proud. They did, however, both appear quite detached, in their own way -- Orion because he didn’t want to be on the battlefield at all, and the King because he seemed to not be entirely sure how to address his adult son. But frankly, considering that Orion had been snatched out of poverty and made Crown Prince just to replace his older half-brother, Cosimo VI, after he was assassinated by the Royaumanians earlier that year, that wasn’t completely surprising.

“Cosimo,” the King greeted him formally. “Good that you’re here.”

Orion didn’t respond, his face close to impossible to read as he clasped his hands in front of him again.

The King’s emerald green eyes scanned his son’s face briefly before he brought up a hand to take hold of his shoulder and lead him further into camp.

“Come -- we have much to discuss...”

Skye and McNully followed Orion and his father to the largest and brightest white of the tents, pushing the flap with the official Florentine gold-and-green-flower emblem aside to walk inside and gather around a large table. There was a large map laid out on it with many dark green and blood red miniatures and model canons scattered across the surface. Skye’s father, General Ethan Parkin, was also present -- he had to sit in a chair rather than stand like almost everyone else due to him missing a leg and being forced to lean on a crutch, but he sat up very straight with boastful levels of pride. Once he, his generals, and the Prince were all gathered around the table, the King immediately set about discussing McNully’s newest military strategy, which would involve splitting the army in half so as to covertly attack Royaume’s forces from two directions, so as to not only better pinpoint where their canons were currently positioned and avoid them, but also to prevent them from retreating.

It soon became apparent to everyone in the King’s tent, however, that Orion was not in the mood to discuss any of this. He stayed quiet for the majority of the meeting, clasping his hands in front of him, and his eyes remained on the far edge of the map on the table, far away from the battlefield. In his mind, he tried to find his center, even though the sounds of the anxiously whinnying horses outside brought back the memory of the ones that had nearly stampeded him so many years ago, when his part of town was set ablaze.

Find your center. Find balance. Find peace.

Carewyn’s soft, content face as she sang under the willow tree beside the Royaumanian palace moat rippled over his mind, and he felt his heart rate slow.

“Oh willow, willow, willow...shall be my garland...”

Orion tried to stay there on that lake bank in his mind as the King discussed how essential it’d be to prevent any Royaumanians from getting in or out of their camp during their siege -- for, as General Parkin pointed out, if any help arrived, then it would prevent the Florentine Army from wiping out their enemy and ending the War. McNully himself looked rather unsettled by the thought of “wiping out” the enemy and was quick to say he’d only intended for the Royaumanians to be fenced in, like in a game of chess, but the King of Florence clearly didn’t think it was enough.

“This newest batch of drafted soldiers are our last resort. Unless we wish to expand the draft to take all those over the age of 18, regardless of health or status, to take their place, we must bring this War to an end, once and for all. And to do that, our enemy must be decisively crushed.”

He looked up at Orion.

“That is why, son, I’ll need you to take command of the left flank of the army.”

“What?” said Skye and McNully, both taken aback and horrified.

“Your Majesty,” McNully said very quickly and firmly, “I-I fully intended that General Parkin would -- ”

“Believe me, lad, I’d normally be chomping at the bit to do it myself,” said General Parkin with a rather sour expression. “But considering that I can’t even properly stand yet, his Majesty decided it might be a good idea for me to...sit this one out.”

“Prince Cosimo will need to know our army as well as I do,” said the King firmly. “Even when we bring this War to an end, he’ll need to be able to lead them in battle, in order to protect our kingdom. And from what I understand, Cosimo, you’ve been gathering intelligence in Royaume itself for a month now without arousing any suspicion...I believe your flair for stealth would be perfectly suited to the task at hand.”

“I’m afraid I must disagree,” said Orion in a very quiet voice.

The King halted. Orion had looked up at his father out the side of his black eye when he’d first addressed him, and although his expression had been very restrained, his eyes had gone very dark. His hands clasped a bit tighter as he faced the rest of the King’s military officers.

“This meeting is adjourned. Please excuse me.”

He turned on his heel and made as if to leave. The King, however, roughly grabbed his shoulder.

“It most certainly is not,” he said, his green eyes full of both disbelief and urgency. “Cosimo, this is not up for debate -- I require you here, to lead the men.”

Orion didn’t turn around. “...You require my aid, to lead our men in this battle?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” said Orion levelly. “Then should I choose not to cooperate, you will not be able to act on this strategy at all.”

All of the King’s officers looked appalled as Orion left the tent. The King’s eyes grew very wide, flickering with desperation as well as some righteous anger, as he chased after him, stepping in front of Orion to prevent him from leaving.

“Cosimo, this is our chance to end the War once and for all! To bring peace to Florence, to right all of the wrongs the Royaumanians have done...”

“Can one right any wrongs by committing more wrongs of their own?” murmured Orion.

“War is not that black and white, my son,” said the King sharply. The surrounding soldiers were starting to take notice. “Sometimes the ends must justify the means -- it’s something all young kings must learn, and I would prefer you learn it before I’m gone, rather than after making a big mistake.”

Skye and McNully had rushed out to join Orion.

“All people make mistakes,” Orion said softly. He tried to leave for a third time, but the King refused to let him pass.

“But you are the Crown Prince of Florence!” said the King. He was clearly getting frustrated now. “Therefore your mistakes are much more consequential -- when you make mistakes, the people you cherish, that you want most desperately to protect, pay the price!”

His father’s rising volume wasn’t helping Orion’s mood. His anxiety had already been spiking in the tent, but it was only getting harder for him to focus on his breathing with the King continuing to press the issue and the unpleasant, sickening smells and sounds of the battlefield surrounding him.

“Think of your friends, Cosimo,” said the King in a strained voice, “your home, your subjects...”

His friends... Skye’s and McNully’s faces rippled over Orion’s mind, before being joined by KC’s, Badeea’s, the Weasleys’, and Andre’s at the Festival...Carewyn’s...Carewyn rushing up to him at the palace gate -- sighing tiredly and handing him her uncomfortable white heels -- dancing in spirals around him, her red lips turned up in a smile and her ginger hair flying free --

Another battalion was coming through, with stretchers and horses loaded up with wounded soldiers -- the smell of death was suffocating --

“Think of your mother, Cosimo,” said the King. “Could you bear it if any other little boys lost their mothers, the way you did?”

“Don’t talk about -- !” gasped Skye, looking righteously furious, but McNully quickly grabbed her arm to urge her to be quiet.

Skye’s objection wouldn’t have helped, though. The mention of Orion’s mother, combined with the smell of fire and the sound of horses, brought the images flooding back -- his mother’s light-less eyes -- his own gasping for breath --

Orion closed his eyes, trying to find his center, even as his clasped hands started to sweat.

Return to Carewyn -- return to the lake shore, to her voice --

Carewyn’s brother was on the battlefield, fighting for Royaume -- if Orion charged into battle, could he not end up bringing about her brother’s death? Could he bear seeing Carewyn’s heart broken, upon learning that the only family she had who truly understood and loved her was dead? Could he bear the thought of all that blood being on his hands...the blood of his soldiers and Andre’s -- the blood of Carewyn’s brother -- ?

“This is your responsibility, Cosimo,” said the King, as he seized Orion’s shoulder and squeezed it. “You must lead our men into battle -- ”

SMACK.

To everyone’s complete and utter shock, Orion had actually ripped out of the King’s grip, backhanding his hand away with force.

The King flinched back, looking stricken. Orion stared at his father, his black eyes very wide and devoid of both consciousness and its usual composure. There was no rage or violence in his posture, but his face was very white and his hand -- still hovering in mid-air -- was trembling slightly.

“Forgive me,” he said at once, his voice very soft and unusually fragile. “Just...please, don’t touch me.”

He strode past his father, right over to the coach he’d arrived in. Instead of climbing inside, however, he immediately yanked one of the black horses free from its restraints and climbed up onto its back.

“Cosimo!” the King cried, but it was no use. Orion had already sharply flicked the reins and rode off into the distance with speed.

Orion didn’t stop riding until he’d once again reached the palace gate of Royaume. He ended up tossing off his well-tailored olive green doublet on the way, so as to leave his more peasant-like white undershirt behind. His hair also came loose of its ponytail in transit and Orion didn’t care in the least to try to restrain it again. His heart was pounding so fast and his blood was so spiked that all he could focus on was finding peace -- and in that moment, peace was a person. He just needed to hear Carewyn’s voice...needed to see her face...

Orion tied his horse up not far from the palace and hopped the castle wall. He knew Carewyn wouldn’t be expecting him -- before the Winter Festival, they’d said they’d meet up on the 9th, which was coincidentally after Florence’s Christmas Witch festivities. Even so, and even though Orion knew Carewyn would worry about him getting in trouble, he couldn’t think of the risk to himself. His heart was just too clenched with anxiety for him to place his focus on anything other than reaching her -- even though once he reached the castle, the tension that squeezed every nerve in his body in a vice grip only increased with the knowledge that he had no way to figure out where in the castle she’d be or how to get her attention. As fate would have it, however, as Orion paced through the gardens, clasping his own sweating hands, a familiar tune rippled over the air.

“The sweetest sounds I’ll ever hear are still inside my head...

The kindest words I’ll ever know are waiting to be said...”

The song itself was one even Orion knew -- it was a rather well-known love song in both Florence and Royaume, and one of his mother’s favorite songs when she was alive. But more importantly, the voice singing it was the wonderfully emotional, deep-as-the-sea tone he’d so needed to hear. Orion’s heart gave something like a spasm of relief as he swept around the perimeter of the palace, staying low behind the hedges, until he spotted an open window in a nearby tower where the voice was coming from. When Orion reached the tower in question, he couldn’t stop himself from collapsing against the wall back-first, closing his eyes, so he could just focus on her voice and let it wash over him.

He was suddenly so short on time. The King was so desperate to end the War that he was now open to slaughtering the enemy, if it served that goal. And as confident as the King was that the plan McNully had suggested would put an end to the Royaumanian army for good, Orion himself doubted it would or even could. The cycle of vengeance could only continue ad infinitum until either everything was destroyed or one royal decided to be the better person and stop the fighting. But how could Orion hope to pursue the diplomacy he’d wanted, once the King had done something so ruthless? How could he hope to appeal to Prince Henri or his parents, after such a severe, fresh wound? And Carewyn...how could he face her again, if her beloved brother died because of his own father’s orders?

He needed time. He needed peace. He needed...

“...is waiting somewhere...somewhere for me...”

Breathe. Find your center. Inhale. Exhale.

Orion barely knew what made him do it, but he knew he had to get Carewyn’s attention somehow. So he squeezed his hands, opened his mouth, took a deep breath, and started to sing the words in return.

“The sweetest sounds I’ll ever hear are still inside my head...”

Carewyn had been cleaning one of the guest suites when she suddenly heard her own song echoed back to her from outside the window. She straightened up abruptly.

Who...who is...?

The voice was male and oddly wispy -- the singer was certainly not trained or very comfortable singing, but he still sounded so earnest...almost desperate.

“The kindest words I’ll ever know are waiting to be said...

The most entrancing sight of all is yet for me to see,

And the dearest love in all the world is waiting somewhere for me --

Is waiting somewhere...somewhere for me...”

Carewyn leaned her broom up against the wall and looked out the window. When she looked down, she caught sight of a familiar mane of dark hair and slightly-too-clean white shirt.

“Orion?”

She recoiled from the window at once, her hands flying to her messy ginger ponytail as she looked over her burnt orange and beige servant’s dress. She was in no state for him to see her like this --

She looked into the mirror hanging up on the closest wall and swallowed.

Carewyn knew she was being foolish -- Orion was going to find out sooner or later that she was nothing but a servant...but...

She’d liked being a lady, for him. She’d liked being someone he could respect. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him with the truth of who she was, really, it was more...her being ashamed of herself. She hadn’t had a choice of whether or not Andre or KC or even the Weasleys knew that she was the child of Charles Cromwell’s disowned youngest daughter and a dead-beat merchant with no dowry or prospects. But Orion hadn’t known her. She’d been able to be who she wished she could be, if just for a moment, when they first met...and in every moment after, she found herself that bit more reluctant to put that mask away.

Carewyn wanted to be a brave, noble, graceful, sophisticated lady for Orion. She wanted to be someone he could admire, instead of the insignificant, pathetic, lying fake who’d sold her and her brother’s souls and futures away forever, just to try to save his life. A girl who, truthfully, was no better than her terrible family -- who had brought every bit of unhappiness she’d ever experienced on herself...

Orion started the song again down below, in an attempt to get Carewyn’s attention -- Carewyn, up above, quickly fashioned her hair into a pretty braid in front of the mirror and sang under him as an echo, as if wanting to reassure him that she could hear him.

“The sweetest sounds (the sweetest sounds)

I’ll ever hear (I’ll ever hear)

Are still inside my head --

The kindest words (the kindest words)

I’ll ever know (I’ll ever know)

Are waiting to be said --

The most (the most) entrancing (entrancing) sight of all (sight of all)

Is yet for me to see,

And the dearest love in all the world...

Is waiting somewhere for me... (Waiting somewhere...)

Is waiting somewhere...

Somewhere for...me...”

Once she was finished with her braid, Carewyn quickly dusted herself off and dashed over to the window.

“Orion!” she whispered only as loudly as she dared.

Orion opened his eyes, turning around and looking up at Carewyn with a very soft smile adorning his lips.

“Beautiful as ever, my lady,” he complimented her, inclining his shoulders in a short bow. His hands were still clasped in front of him. “Like the sweet Nightingale that sang for the Emperor.”

Carewyn took several quick glances around, visibly worried. “Orion, what are you doing here?”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Standing, at present. Though I was singing just a moment ago -- or at least trying to. My voice cannot compete with yours, I’m afraid.”

Carewyn couldn’t completely keep the smile off her face, even despite the concern she felt. Her smile, however small, was like a warm, soothing hand on Orion’s heart.

“You’re lucky that no one else heard you!” Carewyn hissed down with as much reproach as she could manage.

Orion smiled wryly. “Most assuredly. I’m certain that Madam Ali and the Weasley brothers would hardly enjoy my ‘accompaniment’ as well as they do yours.”

The sweat on his hands had gone cold, making Orion actually shiver a bit as he found his body temperature and heart rate finally starting to calm. His smile flickered slightly on his face, creating a much more pensive and murky expression.

“...Will you take a ride with me, Carewyn?” said Orion, very abruptly.

Carewyn blinked. “What?”

Orion squeezed his own hands together, but tried to keep his voice level and his shoulders straight.

“I realize we’ve made no plans today, and that you are enamored of the work you do at court...but you so enjoy riding your horse, and we’ve not yet taken a ride together, out into the country. There are such beautiful valleys east of here -- perfect for stargazing, I should think, once the sun sets.”

Carewyn’s eyes drifted away, back into the guest suite she was cleaning. The windows weren’t washed yet, and she still had to bring the dirty sheets down to the laundry so she could have them clean in time for tomorrow morning...

Sensing Carewyn’s discomfort, Orion said in an oddly insistent voice, “I’ll wait for you, should you say yes. Whatever you must do, I’ll wait until you are finished.”

Carewyn’s gaze snapped back down to Orion in surprise.

She’d never heard him sound like that before. As mysterious and unreadable as his face was, she could still sense that something was off. Perhaps it was how his black eyes searched her face -- or perhaps it was the tenseness in his clasped hands.

Carewyn knew she was in no state to go riding with Orion in her dusty servant’s uniform, especially when she still had work to do...but truly, she didn’t have to wash the windows today, after having already done them yesterday...and she could always fetch the sheets early the next morning before coming up to the guest suite to change them out.

If something is wrong, I can’t leave Orion to deal with it alone, she thought to herself.

Even if she was only a fake and a liar, Carewyn wanted to be there for him. He deserved to have someone there for him...even if it was just her.

And so with a swallow, she looked back down at Orion with a very solemn, but gentle look.

“...I’ll need to change into something warmer and fetch my horse...but I’ll be down in thirty minutes. Can you meet me outside the gate?”

Orion’s heart flooded with relief that he couldn’t completely keep off of his face.

“I’ll be waiting, my lady.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #cinderella au #my art #my writing #carewyn cromwell #orion amari #skye parkin #murphy mcnully #katriona cassiopeia #andre egwu #badeea ali #charlie weasley #bill weasley #ethan parkin #this part got so long I had to split it in half!!#and also draw a new drawing for it #god I hate backgrounds #but yeah anyway the part following this one should be out tomorrow hopefully since the sketches are already done #my poor bb orion ;~;#and also my poor bb carewyn too to a lesser extent #this'll be better explained in later parts but orion is the bastard son of the king and his lover a peasant woman #as you might notice orion was named after his father -- just like the king's first son and orion's elder half-brother the first prince was #that signifies that orion's mother thought of orion as an heir to the throne even though he was still a bastard #(I'm sure all the kids who knew orion growing up must've been perfectly respectful about this one kid being named like a prince >> )#damn this thing is turning into a jukebox musical over here XD;#I'm sorry I just couldn't resist 'the sweetest sounds' just gives me such joy

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that-scouse-wizard · 3 years

Text

David Willows MK 2

A/N: Just an updated version of David’s profile, complete with a few changes and a more in-depth description of certain characteristics. Hope you guys enjoy and if you’d like your MC to be friends with him, message me and let’s chat about it.

Some more things to note:

-Merula is not the mole.

-I’m using the female version of Rowan as David’s best friend because to hell with game restrictions. Also, she survives, at least... David’s Rowan does.

-Drastic alteration to the Quidditch storyline. Skye is in David’s year and a Gryffindor. Orion, Murphy and Erika are two years above David and are in Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin respectively. Also including Andre and Charlie while introducing Oliver Wood and Lee Jordan.

-It goes without saying but spoilers for my ideas. Some are kept deliberately vague and some aren’t covered entirely more so because I intend to write about it someday. Let me know what you guys think of those that are given though.

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General Information

Name: David Owen Willows (Formerly David Owen Hall, changed to mother’s maiden name in 1982).

Gender: Male

Age: 11-18 (1984-91), 19-25 (1992-98)

DOB: 30/03/1973

Species: Human

Blood status: Half-blood

Sexuality: Straight

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Ethnicity: White-British

Nationality: English (maternal side of family is Irish, paternal grandmother is Scottish, paternal grandfather and father are English).

Residence: Liverpool/ Lancaster (during his Hogwarts years and depending upon who he’s staying with).

Wimborne (during his career as a pro Quidditch player)

Hogsmeade (final place of residence after becoming Charms professor)

Myers Briggs Personality Type: ENFP, The Campaigner

Character summary: Though he may come across as stand-offish at first, David Willows is a friend as loyal as he is bull-headed. A student of Erika Rath, he became known as Hound on the Quidditch pitch for his relentless pursuit of opposing players. A skill in duelling and the muggle martial art of muay thai (also a pair of knuckledusters) ensures David is a formidable opponent with or without magic.

Personality:

Aggressive: While he tries to reign in his anger, David is known to have a short temper when it comes to certain taunts. Chief amongst them, comparing him to Jacob. In his early years he was even willing to physically fight much older students despite the clear difference in both size and strength.

Aloof: For all of his first year and a good portion of his second year, David isn’t the one to initiate a friendship (except for Chiara but that was when there was no one else to really talk to while spending a night in the Hospital Wing due to the Devil’s Snare incident). However, while undergoing his first time as a quidditch player, he’s taught by Penny how to be a bit more social at pre and post-match parties.

Artistic: David was taught by his mother Rue to draw in greyscale sketches, something he improves on during his time throughout Hogwarts. In the midst of Jacob’s disappearance, his parent’s divorce and especially the stress that comes at Hogwarts, drawing provided an escape for him. His favourite things to draw are people and creatures.

Competitive: This aspect of David tends to come out the most when it comes to sport. With Erika as his mentor, he nurtures a healthy sense of competition as well as a determination to best the other houses and put Hufflepuff on top when it comes to quidditch.

Courageous: Largely as a result of his loyalty, David is willing to throw himself headlong into danger. The Sorting Hat didn’t nearly put him in Gryffindor for no reason.

Determined: When David sets his mind to a goal, he wants to accomplish it to the best of his abilities. In the case of finding Jacob however, it led to a sort of tunnel-vision, one that was finally broken when Chauncy and Philip succumb to injuries sustained under the sleepwalking curse.

Empathetic: Throughout his years at Hogwarts, David starts to empathise with people in his life. Even in the case of Merula, he sees how lonely she must really be and tries to reach out to her on numerous occasions. If he doesn’t fully understand it, he’d like you to share your feelings with him, at your own behest of course.

Loyal: In spite of a prickly exterior at first, once you win David’s loyalty, he’ll return it ten-fold. The type of friend who would take a bullet for you.

Snarky: David has a sharp tongue, preferably he tries to shut down an argument with his wits. Only going for duelling when he feels it necessary. That being said, he isn’t shy about getting petty in a verbal spar, for example his response to Merula when first being taunted about Jacob supposedly teaming up with Voldemort: “At least that’s just a rumour, can’t say the same about your parents.”

Stubborn: A self-described ‘stubborn git’, David is quite notorious for not budging from his position once he thinks he has all the facts he needs. If he’s being especially difficult, just get Merula.

Appearance

Face Claim: Dave Franco (as an adult at least).

Voice Claim: Paul McCartney.

Game appearance:

Physique: Athletic, broad shouldered and fairly bulky as a result of weight training with Erika.

Hair Colour: Dark Brown

Hair style: Chin-length (1st-2nd year), crew cut (3rd-4th year), short but long enough to slick back (5th year-present).

Eye colour: Dark brown.

Height: 5′11″ (as of 6th year)

Weight: Approx 80kg (when fully grown)

Scarring: A few small ones sustained during duels and the occasional mishap in quidditch, mostly on his upper body with a few on his legs. Sustains a burn scar on the left side of his waist during the battle with R.

Body modifications: Get’s the phrase “You’ll never walk alone.” tattooed on his right bicep at eighteen. Later gets a ram skull tattoo on his upper back just between the shoulder blades at age twenty. Finally, gets a shepherd crook just below the ram skull tattoo at age twenty-one.

Inventory: His wand, a pair of knuckledusters, a sketchbook, a pencil case containing stationary.

Fashion: He trusts Andre’s advice on what looks good on him though knows what works for him and what doesn’t. Partly influenced by his musical tastes (mainly punk, and rock and roll), has a love of leather jackets and slightly ripped jeans.

Background/ History:

Pre-Hogwarts:

-David was born in Liverpool, living in the suburb of Allerton. One of his favourite things to do was play football with Jacob and his dad.

-His mum would teach him to draw, most often on rainy days.

-Close to both of his parents as a result but it all changed when Jacob disappeared. He knew Jacob and his parents had arguments after being expelled but hadn’t heard any of it on account of the use of a muffling charm. Furthermore, Rue and Matthew were driven apart, Matthew blaming Jacob’s change in attitude and eventual disappearance on magic in its entirety.

-Sometime after Jacob disappeared and when the general shitshow stirred up by the Daily Prophet had died down, it was settled that Rue and Matthew would divorce. Given that David would go to Hogwarts as well, they thought it would be best for David to take Willows as his surname, hopefully not being recognised as Jacob Hall’s brother.

-This was fruitless, Rita Skeeter caught wind of the proceedings and sensationalised them, exposing the name change in the process. The stress and grief caused both parents to distance themselves from David in some way. Rue threw herself into work and became even more strict with David’s freedom while Matthew just left.

-David however, was fighting his own battles, it became known at his muggle school about Jacob going missing as well as his parents divorcing. This caused him to become quite reclusive from his classmates and would lash out at anyone who said a bad word towards him, especially if it concerned his family drama. He lost any friends he did have and refused to make any more.

During Hogwarts

-Year 1: He first meets Rowan, even being introduced to her younger brother, Alder (basically male Rowan).

David, Rowan, Tonks, Diego, Chiara and Penny first begin to form what becomes known as the Hufflesquad.

Also befriends Ben and Charlie.

Angelica Cole takes him under her wing despite not being in the same house and even shows David a group of trolls she’s been tending to in preparation for her apprenticeship in training security trolls.

Meets the Booths during the Christmas break and despite a rocky start, begins to develop a positive relationship with them even coming to an understanding with his dad.

During one of his expeditions with Angelica, he’s confronted by Needle, an acromantula that previously belonged to Jacob.

Finally stands up to his mum properly, resulting in him staying with the Booths for the summer in Lancaster.

-Year 2: David meets those who are involved in the Quidditch scene at Hogwarts, including Erika Rath, who he briefly develops a crush on until he’s let down gently at the end of Year 2.

He duels Merula for a second time, winning once more, which makes her cry albeit in private. This then results in having his first encounter with Barnaby Lee, who confronts David about upsetting Merula. David tries to get past but Barnaby wraps his hands around David’s throat. Not actually choking him mind, more to get his attention. David panics as it reminds him of the Devil’s Snare that wrapped around his throat and lashes out at Barnaby.

David puts Barnaby in the hospital wing, much to the anger of Liz Tuttle.

The last Quidditch match for the House Cup between Hufflepuff and Slytherin is interrupted by the spread of the cursed ice. Ultimately resulting in Gryffindor’s victory in the cup for that year.

Rue comes back, mentioning how Corey Hayden (David’s American cousin in this AU) would like to transfer to Hogwarts.

Year 3: Amelia comes to Hogwarts as a first year and gets sorted into Hufflepuff. Similarly, Alder starts at Hogwarts and is sorted into Ravenclaw.

Amelia brings Dusty, her cat, along with her. However, Dusty goes missing shortly after arriving at the castle.

Later, in a COMC class, Barnaby mentions that he found a cat matching Dusty’s description. Initially, David is very suspicious to the extent of threatening Barnaby if he harmed Dusty in any way. Barnaby refutes this and returns Dusty to him unharmed, causing David to apologise for both for the accusation and the events that happened last year. Eventually, he even befriends Barnaby.

In a similar vein, when tending to some of his creatures on the reserve, he bumps into Liz and winds up introducing her to Needle. The two get a friendship going, David admiring Liz’s passion for creatures and Liz appreciating David for not finding her weird when she rambles about animals. To the extent that they go out on a few dates.

Close to the end of the year, he rants at Merula. Effectively asking the question of why she seems to hate him. Yet despite the rant he closes off with how he understands Merula, he’s been that lonely kid lashing out at the world and it’s not fun. Despite her reluctance to admit it, Merula knows David is right.

He gets the chance to verbally unload on Rita Skeeter for the articles she wrote about his family when she comes to the school looking to interview an interesting student. Later, several of his friends plus Merula of all people step in to put Skeeter in her place when she successfully provokes him into a fit of rage to make him look bad. The situation is eventually diffused by McGonagall.

Year 4:

Corey officially transfers to Hogwarts from Ilvermorny after exchanging letters with David throughout third year.

Though David wasn’t particularly close to them, Chauncy and Philip (two of his dormmates alongside Diego) succumb to injuries sustained when they were attacked by a red cap under the Sleepwalking curse. When he learns the truth of what attacked them, David slays the creature.

David starts to realise he has a crush on Merula after assisting her in casting Expecto Patronum. Later in the year, he takes her out on a date to Hogsmeade, gets her a songbook for Christmas and even takes her out to the Celestial Ball.

Merula’s parents are freed from Azkaban by R, her mother even meeting Merula in secret throughout the year. During one of their meet-ups, she has a hunch Merula is starting to develop a crush on David (something which is true but not something she would admit it at the time).

In order to eliminate this apparent threat to her family’s blood purity, she asks Merula to bring him to her in the Forbidden Forest under the guise of allowing the two of them to join R like she has. Instead, she subdues David with Petrificus Totalus, attempting to convince Merula to leave him, that David isn’t worth it.

Merula sides with David even though it pains her initially. David stays with her over the summer, where they try to figure out... whatever the hell their relationship is at the moment.

Year 5: Throughout this year he dates Merula in secret until Valentine’s Day. It’s here that she confesses she’s ready to have their relationship out in the open.

One of the most major event for David is Rakepick’s betrayal, he had actually grown fond of her as a mentor. Being stabbed in the back wasn’t a good thing for him.

The second is Jacob leaving immediately after David finds him. It’s hurtful and David becomes a bit reclusive for a while. Finally, he’s comforted by Bill, Orion and Erika, the older sibling figures in his life.

Year 6: Jacob returns, under the watchful eye of Alastor Moody, acting as the DADA teacher for that year. Naturally, there’s tension between the brothers, which eventually resolves.

Jacob does join David for the Christmas break, where he gets along well with the Booths and reunites with his parents.

As well as this, R attempts to come after Amelia, resulting in the death of Alder Khanna. As well as being a devastating loss, it causes a rough patch in David and Rowan’s relationship when in her grief she winds up shouting “I wish I’d never met you, David Willows!” She only realises what she just said when the words leave her mouth but regardless, it causes a fracture within David’s larger circle of friends.

Eventually, the time comes for when David, Jacob and their allies take on the vaults like they had always dreamed of. Together, they face off against the guardian of the Sunken vault, an Ammit (based on the creature of Ancient Egyptian Mythology). Eventually the beast is defeated and they claim the treasure of the vaults, what seems to be the base of a necklace.

In a celebration at the Three Broomsticks, R attacks and murders Jacob. This sends David spiralling into grief, hitting his truly lowest point. He worked so hard, he rebuilt his family at home and forged a new one at Hogwarts, all the while hoping Jacob would be able to join them. And what was it all for? Nothing.

Before the school year is up... he snaps his wand and runs away from Hogwarts. Not to Liverpool, not to Lancaster, just anywhere but there. It will keep his friends and family safe or so he reasons. Deep down though, he thinks it’s cowardly.

During this time, he finds his way to Glasgow and starts sleeping rough on the streets all the while battling with grief, anger and self loathing. This goes on for two months before Moody tracks him down, apparating him to a secluded area of the Scottish countryside, kicks his arse and talks him down. Taking him to Grimmauld Place afterwards with the intention of formulating a plan to take the fight to R.

Where he finds most of his remaining friends waiting for him. At first he staunchly refuses their help, feeling he’s already put enough people in danger. Yet they refuse to leave.

This is actually the moment where the Circle of Khanna is formed, this time named for Alder. Reconciling with Rowan after a serious heart-to-heart.

Year 7: ...Let’s just say R is going to regret setting David Willows on the warpath.

R’s destruction becomes widely regarded news, however David allows Moody to take the credit for it. Frankly, by this point he’s sick of any attachment to the Cabal and just wants to play Quidditch.

He’s able to pass his NEWTS and win the Quidditch cup for Hufflepuff one last time, resulting in him being offered the position as beater on the Wimborne Wasps.

Post-Hogwarts:

David and Merula work things out, moving in together. Though it’s odd with David still keeping at his Quidditch training and Merula now working for Gringotts as a curse-breaker. After winning the British and Irish League for the Wasps in 1993, he proposes to Merula which she accepts.

In 1994, they have a wedding in the summer time with Rowan being David’s best woman. They did plan on having kids until Cedric’s murder at the hands of Voldemort. With Quidditch cancelled and Merula being affiliated to Gringotts, both are approached to work for the Order.

Though initially very hesitant, David agrees. Eliminating Death Eaters, rescuing their hostages and even fighting in the Battle of Hogwarts.

He returns to the Quidditch scene when it starts up again in 1999, helping the Wasps win the cup three more times. 1999 is also the year in which Merula and David have their first kid, Robin. After the latest victory in 2002 he discovers Merula is pregnant again, and his retirement from Quidditch is looming on the horizon. He’s convinced by Judith Harris (@judediangelo75) to teach for a few weeks over the summer at KC’s (@kc-needs-coffee) quidditch summer camp. It’s here that he develops a love for teaching. Getting in touch with professor Flitwick to work as his assistant before becoming the Charms professor.

In early 2003, he welcomes his son Nicholas into the world.

Family

Matthew Hall (father):

Face Claim: Ben Miller

A stern but fair man and CIMA-qualified accountant originally from Yorkshire, Matthew met David’s biological mother Rue when he was on a business trip to Dublin in 1956. Encountering her in a quiet pub being told “I’ve dealt with a real dragon today” when he asked if she was okay on account of how tired she looked. Matthew took it as a joke but Rue was being entirely serious. They struck up a friendship and began dating, eventually getting married in 1961 and having Jacob in 1964.

initially, he was fascinated by the existence of the wizarding world but soon came to fear it after Jacob’s disappearance. Divorcing Rue afterwards and cutting off contact from David aside from agreeing to send child maintenance. However, after being chewed out by his girlfriend Lyra, he all but begs David to come visit him in Lancaster over Christmas in 1984.

The reason being that Amelia’s magical abilities finally began to manifest, which became a cause of conflict between David and Matthew, largely from David thinking that was the only reason he was invited. Eventually, they come to an understanding and try to work on improving their relationship.

Rue Willows (mother):

Face Claim: Fiona O’Carroll

A dragonologist from Dublin in the employ of the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau. Though she was strict, she was generally attentive towards David, being the one who taught him to draw.

After Jacob’s disappearance however, she became very withdrawn and austere. It was her way of opting for a ‘tough love’ approach, thinking she had been too soft and in her misguidance tried to control David’s life. Even then, she still grieved, frequently getting into arguments with David about his behaviour at school, bringing up Jacob when David tried to make her proud of him and other such things.

During the start of the summer break between first and second year, David finally stands up to her properly. The words that get through to her are the following, “That stranger’s name is Lyra and she’s been a better mum to me in the weeks I’ve known her than you have for me in years.” and “I love you too mum... but I don’t know if I like you anymore.”

She does a lot of soul searching after that, staying with relatives in America for a year before coming back and promising to do better with her and David’s relationship.

Lyra Booth (nee Robinson) (step-mother):

Face Claim: Ruth Wilson

A muggle and CIMA-qualified accountant originally from London, left widowed in 1980 after her first husband, Peter died in a car accident. She met Matthew when working at an accounting firm in Lancaster shortly after his divorce from Rue. After a couple months of knowing each other, the two began dating, Lyra introduced him to her children, who he hit it off well with.

She knew he had a son who he sent child maintenance to but it wasn’t revealed until Amelia accidentally made a plant pot explode in a fit of frustration that Lyra learned the truth. Consequently... she blew up at Matthew for as good as abandoning as his son. Insisting on inviting him around for Christmas.

While David was prickly when he first came around, he eventually warmed up to her and the rest of the Booths, being a positive maternal influence on him.

Jacob Hall (brother) (deceased):

Face Claim: Tom Holland

David’s only biological sibling, a gifted though trouble-making student, first became interested in the cursed vaults during his first year when he was informed about the legend by seventh year Patricia Rakepick. In his sixth year, he stood up for fellow Gryffindor Angelica Cole when she was being bullied (at the time she was a first year).

His investigation into the vaults would put him into conflict with the mysterious cult known as R. A conflict that would put his family in danger and even cost him his life.

Alex Booth (step-brother):

Face Claim: Jody Latham

The eldest of the Booth siblings, Alex is a highly protective big brother and was worried upon realising his little sister was going to be part of a world none of them had any knowledge about. He tried to make David feel welcome despite the younger boy’s hostility.

When David attempted to run away during his first stay with the Booths, Alex caught him in the act and made a deal, get past him and he wouldn’t tell anyone he’d left. Though David was tenacious, Alex stopped him every time even pointing out the flaws in David’s technique if he tried to physically fight Alex. After David finally gave up, Alex didn’t breathe a word of his run away attempt to anyone. David would take up Alex’s offer to teach him muay thai during his first visit.

Sarah Booth (step-sister):

Face Claim: Emilia Clarke

The middle child of the Booth siblings and also the least welcoming, Sarah was most vocally against Amelia being part of the wizarding world. She treated David coldly at first, going on a grouse hunting trip with her friends the day after he arrived to stay with them for Christmas.

However, at some point, she caught him reading an old copy of a Shooting Times magazine and after some persuasion by Alex, took David clay pigeon shooting. Becoming quite impressed, and even a little endeared from how quickly he picked up shooting.

Amelia Booth (step-sister):

Face Claim: Maisie Williams

A muggleborn witch and the youngest of the Booth siblings, Amelia was surprised to realise she possessed magical abilities. Though was even more shocked to learn Matthew already knew about it.

When she was five years old, she was involved in the car accident that killed her father. Resulting in her being scarred with a gash on the right side of her forehead, a similar one on her left cheek and a larger one that cuts across from shoulder to her chest. Though she repressed the memory, she did indeed see her father die, thus Thestrals are visible to her. Another thing the accident did was give her motorphobia, though can tolerate it as long as she’s A) In control of the vehicle and B) It’s not motorised.

However, she does have a love of cycling, she was taught to do so by her dad before he died. Similarly, gymnastics helped her get some of her confidence back after the accident and still keeps up with it. A love of plants and animals prompts her to excel in Herbology and Potions, then later COMC.

Allegiances

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Affiliations: The Circle of Khanna, The Wimborne Wasps, The Order of the Phoenix, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Professions: Beater for the Wimborne Wasps (1991-95)

Agent of the Order of the Phoenix (1995 - 98)

Resumes position as beater for the Wasps (1999-2003)

Charms Assistant Teacher (2003 - 05)

Charms Teacher (2005 - present)

Hogwarts Information

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: E

Charms: O

DADA: O

Herbology: E

History of Magic: A

Potions: A

Transfiguration: E

Electives:

Care of Magical Creatures: A

Muggle Studies: O

Quidditch:

Hufflepuff Beater (1985 - 91)

Hufflepuff Captain (after Orion graduates) (1989 - 91)

Extra Curricular:

Duelling Club (Becomes known as one of the best duellers in Hogwarts)

Art Club

Football Club (Founder)

Apparition Class (in 1991)

Favourite Professors:

Professor Sprout, his head of house and someone he feels he can go to if he needs advice. One of several people who warned him about being careful with Patricia Rakepick.

Professor Mcgonagall, his Transfiguration teacher and head of Jacob’s house when he was at Hogwarts. Though they disagree entirely on him tackling the vaults, he always pays attention in her lessons as while she’s often stern she can be a great teacher.

Professor Flitwick, as his Charms teacher, David always found Flitwick to be respectable. David especially respects Flitwick for teaching him Expelliarmus, even after he was honest in what he intended to do with it (i.e. use it in a duel against Merula). Also came for Flitwick’s help in developing Cometa.

Least Favourite Professors:

Professor Binns: Finds his droning entirely too boring and really only passed History of Magic thanks to Rowan.

Every other professor he’s either neutral on (Snape and Trelwany) or he likes but aren’t his favourites (Kettleburn).

Best Canon friends:

Rowan Khanna

Diego Caplan

Nymphadora Tonks

Penny Haywood

Chiara Lobosca

(David plus the above five make up the original members of the Hufflesquad)

Bill Weasley

Charlie Weasley

Erika Rath

Orion Amari

Badeea Ali

Barnaby Lee

Liz Tuttle

Love interest:

Erika Rath (crush)

Nymphadora Tonks (first kiss)

Liz Tuttle (dated briefly in third year but broke things off fairly amicably when they realised they were developing crushes on other people).

Merula Snyde (began dating in fourth year, later marries David in 1994)

Best MC friends:

Judith Harris (@judediangelo75): The closest of his MC friends, David and Judith first get acquainted by being pushed into friendship... somewhat subtly by Penny Haywood. Both of them catch on when Penny mentions they should try out for the Quidditch team. Both of them still go for it, bonding over a shared love of martial arts and proving they have the potential to be fearsome beaters.

Throughout their time at Hogwarts, David and Judith would demonstrate a fierce loyalty to each other, being as close as siblings. David even becoming godfather to her children, Bakari and Kendrick.

Cato Reese (@catohphm): David was first introduced to Cato by Penny. The two find themselves sharing very similar values, having a great love their friends and absolute ruthlessness towards their enemies.

Like anyone involved in the Quidditch scene at Hogwarts, David has a bit of a rivalry with him. Tending to trash talk him (though with no real weight behind it), Cato understands that David doesn’t mean it.

Katriona Cassiopea (KC) (@kc-needs-coffee): The two of them are sports fanatics, they could talk to each other for hours about Quidditch. While David definitely knows more about footy, he’s eager to learn about any sport, such as baseball which KC is highly knowledgeable about.

KC would be one of the first to jump at the football matches David organises during his time at Hogwarts.

Lizzie Jameson (@lifeofkaze): Like David, Lizzie is an avid fan of LFC. Even meeting up at some point with their respective partners to watch a footy match at Anfield, where Liverpool were playing.

On the quidditch pitch, Lizzie is a chaser and knows she can count on David to keep the bludgers off her back.

If any of your MCs would want to be friends with David, let me know!

Rivals:

Merula Snyde (For most of his time at Hogwarts).

During Quidditch: Erika Rath, Skye Parkin, Andre Egwu, Charlie Weasley, Angelica Cole, Oliver Wood, Cato Reese and Katriona Cassiopea.

Enemies:

R (including Patricia Rakepick, Fenrir Greyback and Peter Pettigrew).

The Snyde family (minus Merula)

Voldemort

Death Eaters

Magical Abilities

1st Wand: Blackthorn, unicorn hair core, ten and a quarter inches, slightly springy and flexible. Snaps it in half shortly just before the end of sixth year, citing, “What kind of warrior can’t even protect his own brother?”

Blackthorn, which is a very unusual wand wood, has the reputation, in my view very well-merited, of being best suited to a warrior.

Unicorn hair generally produces the most consistent magic, and is least subject to fluctuations and blockages. Wands with unicorn cores are generally the most difficult to turn to the Dark Arts. They are the most faithful of all wands, and usually remain strongly attached to their first owner, irrespective of whether he or she was an accomplished witch or wizard. Minor disadvantages of unicorn hair are that they do not make the most powerful wands (although the wand wood may compensate) and that they are prone to melancholy if seriously mishandled, meaning that the hair may ‘die’ and need replacing.

2nd Wand: English Oak, Dragon Heartstring core, twelve and a half inches, unbending.

A wand for the good times and bad, this is a friend as loyal as the wizard who deserves it. Wands of English Oak demand partners of strength, courage and fidelity. Obtained from Garrick Ollivander while being accompanied by Alastor Moody.

As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.

Animagus form: A ram, specifically of a Dalesbred Sheep. Rams symbolise determination, initiative and leadership, factors that are put to the test more than once during his time at Hogwarts.

Misc magical abilities: Legilimens, Rue informs him of potentially inheriting her legilimens ability between third year and fourth year when he tells her of his delve into the Vault of Fear. David prefers not using it on people, rather using it to see through the eyes of animals as his great grandfather Reuben used to do.

Occlumency: Snape, at Dumbledore’s behest begins teaching David the art of Occlumency in fifth year.

Non-verbal magic: David began learning the non-verbal use of magic in fifth year thanks to professor Flitwick. Becoming highly skilled in it by his seventh year.

Spell creation: Assists in the creation of Stella Cascadia alongside Badeea Ali. Given how dangerous the vaults could be, he begins to work on another spell inspired by Stella Cascadia alongside several of his friends, Cometa, the comet jinx.

Boggart Form: Initially, Jacob as a death eater after hearing about the rumours of him taking Voldemort’s side.

From year four onwards, himself as a dark wizard as he worries about the path the vaults will set him on.

Riddikulus Form: Death eater Jacob’s mask turns into a pie that promptly splats him in the face.

Later, his dark wizard self in the uniform of Everton Football Club with a blue clown nose and wig to match. Since he’s a Liverpool Football Club supporter, seeing himself in one his rival team’s colours as a clown is hilarious to him.

Amortentia (what do they smell like?): A sea breeze and heather.

Amortentia (what do they smell?): Freshly mown grass and clear air after a rainfall.

Patronus: African wild dog, a symbol of his loyalty and relentless pursuit of his goals.

Patronus memory: -Attending the LFC vs Nottingham Forest semi final match of the Football League Cup at Anfield on the 12th February 1980 with his dad and Jacob. They drew 1-1 and LFC didn’t get through to the final but David was still happy to be there with both them.

Mirror of Erised: Jacob being back, alongside all of his friends and family. All of them are safe and well.

Specialised/ favourite spells:

Cometa, a spell that David creates in sixth year with the help of Badeea Ali, Rowan Khanna, Merula Snyde, Diego Caplan and professor Flitwick. Inspired by Stella Cascadia, and using some principles from the Ice Jinx, the spell initially creates cricket ball-sized pieces of ice that explode into a mist when they impact against something. This makes it especially useful for blinding or disorienting a target. Later they develop the more-powerful Cometa Maxima in seventh year. Its main limitations are maintaining eye contact directed at the target (as is the case for all jinxes) and its general range is quite short (about twenty five feet) due to the “comet” (really a mix of ice, dust and gases) disintegrating quite quickly.

Protego Diabolica, A spell taught to him by Felix Rosier in sixth year, nothing says “Get away from my friends!” Like a massive wall of blue flame that incinerates enemies and leaves allies unharmed.

Expelliarmus, the Disarming charm taught to David by Professor Flitwick in first year is one of his go-to spells when duelling.

Protego, learned in order to protect himself from spells and other projectiles.

Healing spells: Largely taught to him by Chiara throughout their time at Hogwarts, healing spells have come in handy more than once when he needs to preserve his own or his friend’s lives.

Expecto Patronum, though niche, a spell that can get rid of a dementor is nothing to scoff at. Plus it’s a sentimental reminder of his friendship with Tonks.

Incendio, good as a fire-starter and a duelling spell, also reminds him of a time when Merula stood up to Rita Skeeter for him by burning her camera.

Misc Information

-David is a huge supporter of Liverpool Football Club (LFC), so much so one of his casuals is a club uniform.

-As well as Needle, David has other creatures on the reserve, Lucky (Knarl), Clop (Porlock), Bonita (fairy), Mori (thestral), and Chen (Chinese fireball).

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm #jacob's sibling #david willows #hphm mc

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 4 years

Text

Pairings: Romantic Romile (Roman x Emile), Romantic Prandy (Andy x Pryce), Romantic Anxtober (October x Virgil), Romantic Intrulosleepceit (Remus x Logan x Remy x Deceit)

Word Count: 1135 Words

Summary: Deceit's hair, Putting Others First, and poly cuddle piles.

Warnings: Sex Mentions, Cursing, Cancer Mention, Sick Character, Immunocompromised Character, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Note: Bolded and blockquoted are actions in their chatroom, not a message.

Usernames, a quick translation guide: Andy: Raccoon Man (the trashiest hero), Belladonna: hazelnut, Castor: schrodingersdumbass, Dayd: carniverousroomba, Dice: Dr. Bitch, Emile: Thera-pissed, Eve: wall-e, Halley: aspermylastemail, Janus: SnekBoi, Logan: Momgan, Noah: nope, October: eatpavementido, Orion: birdgeoisie, Patton: Papa Bear, Pollux: satantakemehome, Pryce: SwEeTvErUcA, Remus: Octopussy, Remy: Coffee Bandit, Roman: waaahluigi, Sirius: literalsunshine, Teal: uwu, Thomas: shrexy, Virgil: spipples, Vita: þiccness

A Very Sanders Group Chat: Chapter 11

8:34 AM

SnekBoi: Remus, come to me room. Right now.

Octopussy is now online

Octopussy is now offline

Momgan: What happened, darling?

SnekBoi: My hair again.

Coffee Bandit: It's just hair, babe.

SnekBoi: I know but this means it'll be an even longer time before I can feel normal again.

Coffee Bandit: Normal's overrated, babe. Let's be weird together.

SnekBoi: Remus get the clippers.

spipples: Wait you're not going to

SnekBoi: I can control this. This is the one thing I can control this time.

Octopussy: I'm keeping it, emo, don't worry.

spipples: This doesn't worry me any less.

9:04 AM

Octopussy: twinsies.jpg

Momgan: So you shaved your head with him?

Octopussy: yup! I did this last time too and so DeeDee didn't have to be bald alone.

Momgan: Even the white?

Octopussy: well, it'll all grow back white anyway so why not.

Momgan: As long as you both are happy with it.

Octopussy: Dee's not happy about it, he loves his hair, but this is better for him than slowly losing hair every night.

Octopussy: plus now he gets to rock his old wigs without maybe pulling out hair.

Coffee Bandit: Yup, both of 'em still look cute.

12:12 PM

Octopussy: @SnekBoi sugarbutt, I'm going on a quest with Virgie-poo. if you need anything, Logan is off today and Remy's off too.

spipples: I'm unwilling please help me.

SnekBoi: Have fun you two. I'll be fine. I'm even starting to feel better.

Octopussy: that's good, honey. I love you! I'll see you tonight, promise!

Octopussy and spipples are now offline

5:20 PM

Momgan: Be careful. Please.

SnekBoi: I am. I'm fine.

Thera-pissed: I have a feeling I'm going to have several mental health appointments scheduled this week.

Coffee Bandit: You probably will, yeah.

Thera-pissed: Not surprising. Usually I get to schedule more appointments after these big discussion talks.

6:14 PM

SnekBoi: I guess I'm now known by name.

shexy: And I couldn't be prouder to have you onboard, Janus.

Momgan: Were you non-strenuous on your body?

SnekBoi: I'm considerably drained but I'm lying down so I shouldn't have any fall risk right now. Boogeyman is guarding me very well and retrieving anything I need but I'm probably just going to go to sleep.

Coffee Bandit: Please be careful with yourself, babykins.

SnekBoi: I'm careful, just tired and achey. I'll sleep and then I'll feel better, promise.

Momgan: Get some sleep, dear.

Coffee Bandit: I'll come over and stay with you if you can't sleep alone.

Momgan: If I may, I'd like to extend the offer to myself as well.

SnekBoi: Get over here then, you nerdy puffballs.

Momgan and Coffee Bandit are now offline

SnekBoi: Ah yes, to have two of three boyfriends smother me into oblivion. I can't wait.

6:30 PM

SwEeTvErUcA: Will someone explain why my little brother refuses to leave his room?

Thera-pissed: He and I have made an agreement that he not interact with others until his scheduled therapy session tomorrow morning. After then, he's all yours unless something has gone wrong with his stress levels and he happens to endanger his health.

SwEeTvErUcA: Cryptic, why's my brother's boyfriend being so cryptic? What are you two hiding from everyone?

Thera-pissed: Because I, despite being your brother's boyfriend, will be completely professional when it comes to his mental health and me and my patient have a strict contract of what others outside of the sessions can and cannot know, his current status, the one I believe you're questioning my knowledge of, being one of them.

SwEeTvErUcA: This answers none of my questions but fair enough.

SwEeTvErUcA: Hey, at the appointment, make sure you tell the little bastard I love him.

Thera-pissed: Of course.

9:45 PM

spipples: Wow, I leave for like 9 hours. The fuck, guys?

literalsunshine: Alright, so Auntie Jan and Auntie Roman are mad at each other, Grandpa Patton is happy but not about either of them, he's happy about Thomas. Auntie Jan finally got Thomas to trust him and Roman seemed really sad so I think Thomas is mad at him or something.

spipples: I have the urge to hit my head into a wall again.

literalsunshine: Mom, please don't.

spipples: I know.

literalsunshine: Take a shower, we can watch a movie together in your room.

spipples: Done deal.

spipples is now offline

11:55 PM

nope: so I guess we're not telling him tonight.

literalsunshine: not after this morning.

nope: I'm sure it's not his, though, Siri.

literalsunshine: And I'm sure it is, Noah.

þiccness: Can you two not be cryptic? Everyone is so cryptic today.

literalsunshine: No.

nope: absolutely not.

þiccness: I hate you both.

literalsunshine: Anyway, we can wait a bit longer to tell him, anyway. Or I guess, I'd like to wait just a bit longer.

nope: I guess it couldn't hurt to wait a little longer. Just know that mine are getting suspicious so we might want to figure it out soon.

literalsunshine: I know, it's just yours has less drama than mine, Noah.

nope: I know, babe. Want me to come cuddle?

literalsunshine: Please.

hazelnut: I can't wait until everyone in here is honest with each other.

shrexy: Says the one I only know by username.

hazelnut: Oh easy, Belladonna Hazel Sanders, my mother and father are functions of yours. You don't know me because the only adults that know of my existence besides my school in this big ol' brain box of yours is my two Aunties and my new step-dads.

shrexy: Well, hello, Belladonna.

hazelnut: I like Bela, by the way.

shrexy: Bela.

shrexy: Bela, by chance are your mother and father Remus and Janus?

hazelnut: Oh hey, first time, right guess. Never had that happen before. Everyone always switches me and Vita's parents because we both act a lot like each other's parent.

shrexy: Soooo yeah?

hazelnut: Yep. Remus is my dad and Janus is my mom.

shrexy: I thought Janus said he and Remus were never romantic before?

hazelnut: I do not control whose womb I arose from, Thommy, all I know is that's the one that housed me for like seven months. Also, he never said anything about being together in the past.

shrexy: Bela, it's nine months.

hazelnut: Nah, mom got sick while pregnant so he had me early so he could start chemo.

shrexy: Ah, makes sense.

hazelnut: Oh yeah, look how cute they are.

hazelnut: polyamorouscuddlepile.jpg

shrexy: Awwww. Like a box of kittens.

hazelnut: I'm just glad they're happy. Mom and Dad are emotionally constipated idiots who couldn't figure out for 14 years how to confess that they like each other as more than just friends-with-benefits.

shrexy: You know what? I believe it.

spipples: Ah yes, the specific brand of chaotic dumbass that is Remus and Janus is unrivalled by any other besides possibly Vita.

Taglist: @glaxyjellyfish @chronophobica @fear-ze-queer @imma-potatoo

#sanders sides #sympathetic deceit #immunocompromised deceit #immunocompromised janus #deceit sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #virgil sanders #emile picani #thomas sanders #pryce sanders #snoweywrites #a very sanders group chat #tw cursing #tw sex mention #tw innuendo mention

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queerpsychopomp · 4 years

Text

Second Impressions

For Blackinnon Week Day 1: First Meeting (AO3)

TW: Bellatrix being racist

First meetings led to first impressions. People always stressed the importance of first impressions, that every encounter after would be painted by what you did in those first moments.

If you counted the first meeting as two people sharing the same space and time for a moment, then Sirius and Marlene met when they were seven. They brushed past each other in Diagon Alley, Marlene holding Elspeth’s hand as they shopped while Sirius held firmly to Walburga’s robes. Neither turned to look at the other, so any reasonable person would not count that as a first meeting.

Their first true meeting was when they were eleven, on their way to Hogwarts. The Blacks and the McKinnons happened to stand near each other on the platform, close enough that snippets of conversation would travel.

Sirius, Regulus, and the Black sisters stood together while their parents spoke to the Malfoys about some ministry drivel that Sirius just tuned out, even though Orion stressed the importance of understanding politics at a young age. Narcissa kept stealing glances at Lucius, who stood by his father’s side, ever the obedient heir.

Everyone expected him to be like -- no, better than Lucius as he got older. He had already received lectures from both Orion and Walburga that he was to be the best; no child of the Black family was going to be outdone by any mudblood, let alone their heir.

Nothing less than perfection would be accepted.

He couldn’t wait to get on the train. It was hard to leave Regulus behind, but he gave his brother his favourite dragon miniature to take care of, and promised he would write to him every week. Still, some time away from his parents would be nice. They had become more overbearing in the year leading up to this day and he needed some space.

“Look at them,” Bellatrix sneered, looking over at the McKinnons and snapping Sirius out of his thoughts. “I thought Hogwarts was only for British wizards, not those people.” He furrowed his brows, glancing over at the family. What did Bella mean? Sure, he’d never met anyone that looked like them before, but that didn’t mean anything, right?

Andromeda’s jaw tensed for a brief moment. “They’re Scottish. Scotland’s part of Britain, isn’t it Bella?”

The elder sister shrugged. “Don’t you have one of those as a friend Andy?”

“Dorcas is Black, yes,” she said, looking as if she was biting something back.

Sirius tuned out before the fighting began; Andy and Bella seemed to do that more often lately. Narcissa chalked it up to the tension that wedding planning was putting on Bella, but he had his doubts. Andy was… different after coming home last year, but he had no idea what had happened.

He looked over at the McKinnons again. The girl was glaring at them, fists curled at her side. She looked about his age. Maybe they would be in the same House? Even if they were, he couldn’t associate with a halfblood, let alone a Black one. Walburga would hex him and send him up to his room without dinner for a week if she caught wind of it. With so many children of the noble families still in school, word would definitely get back to her.

Narcissa seemed to notice him staring because she nudged his shoulder. “Don’t bother with them Sirius. You can stick with me until you make friends, alright? And you can sit with us on the train, like we talked about.”

Sirius nodded, mostly to avoid a scene. Hanging out with Narcissa was fine, it was Lucius and his friends that he didn’t like. They would always pick on Regulus until he’d cry, and Sirius couldn’t stand for that. He’d lose her on the train as soon as he could and go off on his own.

Even if it meant sitting with mudbloods.

…

“Maw, I’m not going away forever,” Marlene grumbled as Elspeth smoothed her curls back from her head for the umpteenth time. “I’ll be home at Christmas. It’s only a few months away-”

“Ach, I know that, but you’re still my little bairn. I can’t believe it, my youngest going off to Hogwarts already,” Elspeth sighed.

Mark, Marlene’s eldest brother, smirked a little at her behind their mother’s back. Elijah and Thomas weren’t as subtle, making faces at her in front of their father. Angus raised an eyebrow at them. “Don’t terrorize your sister boys.”

“We’re not Da!”

Marlene smirked and stuck her tongue out at them quickly while their mother fussed with Mark’s hair. It made the boys stick their tongues out as well and Angus conveniently only saw them doing it, leaving Marlene scot free as they got a talking to.

“I thought Hogwarts was only for British wizards, not those people.”

Marlene felt her blood boil, spinning around to search for who uttered the words. She glared daggers at the woman with the curly black hair and sharp features who kept side-eyeing them as she continued insulting them. How dare that woman talk about her family like that? Who did she think she was? It was hard enough already amongst the Muggles in Scotland. Call her foolish, but she hoped that Hogwarts would be different, that people would get to know her instead of judging her based on how she looked.

The wand in her pocket was heavy, a reminder that she could take revenge, but Marlene didn’t attempt to reach for it. Elspeth would scold her before she had the chance to mumble a spell. Besides that woman, Bella, was much older and certainly knew more spells than Marlene. Not to mention it would cause a scene and she didn’t want to cause trouble for her parents.

Mark was furious too. Marlene could tell by the way he straightened himself. It almost looked as though he recognized the woman, the way he was watching her. Maybe she had been in school during his earlier years at Hogwarts. Unlike Marlene though, he kept his stance casual to those that didn’t know him well, hands in his pockets. Elijah was mumbling something to Thomas, keeping the woman and her family in their sights. Elspeth stood straight, chin up defiantly. The family was no stranger to white folks talking shite.

Angus put a hand on his eldest son’s shoulder, squeezing it a little before turning his attention to his only daughter. Marlene always took things to heart, just like his own mother. There was not a single wrong in the world that Marlene didn’t try her hardest to make right and though she was slow to anger, this was something that got her blood boiling.

He kneeled down to focus Marlene’s brown eyes on him, brushing back some of her curls. “Lene-”

“How can she talk about us like that Da? How can we let her-”

“‘Lene, breathe sweetheart.” Angus paused as Marlene took a couple breaths. He took her hands, turning them over and soothing her palms where her nails dug into the flesh. “We’ve talked about this. Pay them no mind. We determine our worth. What they say about us is a reflection on them, not us. Okay?”

Marlene grumbled at that, but mumbled “okay.”

“Good. I love you bairn.”

“Love you too Da.”

She looked back to the woman and her family, noticing the boy was now looking at her. Glaring until he looked away, Marlene decided that she wanted nothing to do with him. He looked to be her age and she hoped that they wouldn’t be in the same House. She would already be dealing with enough blood purity bullshit and racism without someone from a family like that being in all her classes.

...

Marlene and Sirius wouldn’t actually speak to each other until the dead of night, hours after the incident on the platform.

Marlene couldn’t sleep and after much tossing and turning, decided that sitting by the fire might do her some good. She could go and try to find Mark’s dorm since he was a Gryffindor too, but she didn’t fancy stumbling into random boys’ dorms, or the teasing she was sure to endure from her brother. So curling up by the fire it was. It was only when she was at the bottom of the girl’s staircase that she noticed that someone else had the same idea.

It was that boy with the stupid name and the stupider cousin.

He hadn’t noticed her yet. She could just go back up the stairs and not have to deal with him at all. But that was cowardly, and Marlene Elspeth McKinnon was not going to be a coward because of some boy. So she marched herself to the couch in front of the fire and sat down as far as she could from him. Her gaze was fixed on the fire, but out of the corner of her eye it looked like he’d been...crying? Maybe he was homesick?

“Are you alright?”

Sirius clenched his jaw and swiped at his eyes. He couldn’t show weakness-- the Black family didn’t show weakness, let alone their heir. “Shut up.” Why was he being so rude? She was just asking if he was okay. It wasn’t like she had anyone that would run off and tell his parents he was upset.

Marlene scoffed. “I was just concerned you arse-”

“I don’t need your concern you-”

“You better stop right there you pompous prick,” she warned, her fists curling. “You’re just like that rotten cousin of yours, I can’t believe I tried to be nice. You’re just like those bloody arses-”

And then Sirius started crying again. It took Marlene a second to realize that since he didn’t make a sound. Marlene was no coward, but she also wasn’t cruel. It would be horrible to leave him here in distress, even if he was a prick. Besides, it wasn’t like he said anything about her family, right? He could be different. Besides, she would be the biggest arse in the world if she left after making him cry.

Hesitating for a moment, she moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder. “Um-”

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled thickly. “I- it was horrible of me- you were just- mother and father- they’re gonna kill me-”

“Hey, slow down. It’s gonna be okay,” she murmured, rubbing his back. He had to be exaggerating, right? No parents could actually be horrible enough to do something like that to their child, right? Marlene brushed the thought away, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. He leaned into her touch, taking a shuddering breath and wiping his face.

“Bella was horrible to say all that on the platform,” Sirius said after he pulled himself together. “I- I swear I’m not like them. I’m sorry.”

Marlene watched him for a moment. If he was actually sorry, he would prove it during the year. Elspeth had always told her that first impressions didn’t matter, it was what people did after that proved who they were.

She’d find out if she was wrong about Sirius soon enough.

“Why did you say they’re gonna kill you?”

He shook his head a little, keeping his gaze fixed on the fire. Before he knew it, he was spilling his guts to this girl, words tumbling from his lips without any sign of stopping. “I’m supposed to be in Slytherin with my family and that lot but- but they can be so horrible! I didn’t want to be like them, but Gryffindor? It would be fine if I was in Ravenclaw, but Mother and Father will never forgive me for this.”

“Fuck them then.”

Sirius laughed at how quickly she said that. “It’s not that easy-”

“My mum always says ‘tak tent o time ere time taks tent of thee.’ It means to take care of how you spend your time before you eventually die,” Marlene said, looking at him. “You get to decide how you live. If you don’t want to be like them, don’t. You’ll mess up sometimes, but what matters is that you learn and do better.”

He looked at her then, properly. She was something he’d never encountered before. No one he had ever met would speak like that. He came from a world where your family was more important than anything else, that the bloodline was something to be proud of and that they could never dishonor it in any way. Everyone lived according to their traditions and those who strayed did not belong. But this girl, she was telling him to throw that all away.

That he was not his family’s puppet, but a person of his own.

Sirius, ever being the one uncomfortable with emotions and confronting his future, blurted out “you have a funny accent,” before blushing at how stupid that sounded. She was going to punch him, he was sure of it.

But a smile broke out on her face and Marlene laughed. It was a nice laugh. Warm. “You have a funny one too.”

Marlene’s second impression of Sirius was that maybe he wasn’t as bad as the rest of his family.

Sirius’ second impression was that she was a firecracker.

#blackinnonweek2020 #blackinnon #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #the black sisters #tw: racism #marauders era #marauders era fanfiction #hprarepairnet #hpminorcharnet #marauders one shot #marauderseranetwork #marauderseragang #sirius black fanfiction #marlene mckinnon fanfic #my writing #hp fic

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loopsforlupin · 4 years

Text

Wolfstar Through the Eyes of a Mother

Walburga :

Walburga Black was not happy, not one bit. Her eldest “child” was consorting with those nasty blood traitors, the Potter’s, and those two half-blood creatures, Peter and the weird wolf named one, Romulus? No Remus, that was the sandy haired one’s name. Weird kid, had nasty scars across his face, and she suspected the rest of his body as well. Whatever, she shook those thoughts from her head, and focused on glaring at the boys gathered on the train station platform. Her precious child, Regulus was gathered with his own friends, but they were of the respectable sort, except for that Snape child, but he was a dark wizard, and a powerful Potion maker, so she was willing to allow their friendship. The other four boys were standing close to one another, the parents of the other three were gathered around the friends, but Walburga was staring at her son more than her usual gaze. Something was going on. Her eldest was standing particularly close to the tall sandy-haired one with scars, their hands practically brushing every time the boys moved. Her son, instead of doing the proper thing, and stepping away, swayed closer to the boy, tilting his head up to keep staring at the boy. Hmmmmm…… It would appear her eldest son was more of a useless creature than she had thought previously. First he was born with a white core, then he was always smiling and playing with those pathetic muggle children that had loitered around the park near their home. Then the boy went and got sorted into the stupid Lion house, a complete disgrace for their house. And if that hadn’t been bad enough, then he started flaunting his differences in her home. Putting up those disgusting muggle women posters, and changing the room’s color to that dreadful red and gold combination that made her eyes sore. Everything he did was against her very beliefs and core. Now the daft idiot had gone and fallen in love, with a male no less. If the man had been a Pure-blood, maybe she wouldn’t have minded as much, however, the useless child had to go and fall for a half blood. Not even a dark half-blood either, judging by the boy’s core, he was just as light magic as her oaf of a son.

Perhaps she should start making those plans for his marriage, Orion, seemed to think she should hold off another year, but judging from the closeness of the two boys, and the indulging looks of their friends, she didn’t have a year. She gave herself a pat on the back, yes, she would plan the boy a wedding, maybe she could even get a couple male’s interested. Perhaps if she offered a marriage with another male, with the understanding that Sirius would have to provide an heir through the use of a male pregnancy potion, than maybe the boy would stop fighting it. Maybe just maybe she’d get the boy under her thumb yet.

Euphemia:

Euphemia Potter was feeling a contradicting set of emotions; ecstatic and horrified. Her two sons were home with her, where she could watch over them. However, Sirius was still a battered and bruised mess. His ribs were broken, now just sore muscles around the once broken bones, his back was a mess of broken and scabbing skin after his carrier’s loving tender mercies. His lips were starting to heal again, the scabs opening less and less as she made him apply that potion to aid them in healing. His eyes were no longer black and blue, and his arm was out of the sling finally, it had been a struggle to get him to stop using the limb for the required three days, for the skele-gro to finally fix the broken bones there. Now her two sons were lounging on the couch in the living room, James playing with that practice snitch, and Sirius was tucked up in the corner of the couch, a book perched precariously on his knees. The young dark haired boy seemed so much more relaxed now, his shoulders no longer tensing when anyone new entered the room. He was starting to trust them.

James had asked her the other day, if Remus could come over. He said Peter had been on a small holiday with his mother, and that was why the smaller boy wasn't invited. She had agreed, the taller boy was so soft spoken compared to her sons, but she knew that his sharp mind and tongue were well within her active boy’s league. He was a nice calming influence on her two active boys, but he could also be quite the little instigator. She had watched him one time, talk James into jumping on Sirius, before the boy had lived with them, and tickling him. All because Remus had decided that Sirius was being to morose. She loved that the sandy-haired boy looked out for both her sons, and their friend.

Fleamont’s personal elf, Custer, announced the arrival of Master Siri’s friend. She stifled a grin, Sirius had absolutely refused to be called Master Black, or even Master Sirius, and insisted that all the elves referred to him as Siri, however the elves had added Master in front of it, and Sirius was too frustrated to argue more. Remus walked in the room and her heart fluttered at the beautiful smile that lit up her youngest son’s face. All the pain and fear was immediately wiped off, and replaced with sheer joy and dare she say it, love, for the boy, well wolf, who had walked in. Remus immediately made a beeline for Sirius, cheerfully calling out a greeting. The taller boy pulled the youngest of the group into a firm hug, leaning his head down to rest on the dark hair. He whispered something, but Euphemia was to far away to hear what he said. When Sirius pulled back, Remus smiled at him kindly and kept one arm around his body while he greeted her eldest son. That hug was brief compared to other one.

The boys settled back on the couch, this time with Sirius wrapped up in the arms of Remus, while James was talking to the taller boy, sitting with Sirius’s feet in his lap. She smiled at the sweet sight, her youngest being loved on by the two older boys, not even fighting the coddling, simply relaxing against Remus’s chest, letting the other adjust him until they were both comfortable.

Euphemia Potter couldn’t help but notice that Remus and Sirius were awfully comfortable with touching one another. Remus had let his one arm hang down over Sirius’s shoulder, so that his hand was dangling near Sirius’s stomach. Sirius was playing with that hand, even as he spoke to the other two, he was intertwining their fingers. Remus payed no attention to this, letting Sirius do as he pleased. After some comment, which had James squawking in indignation and Sirius laughing, Remus leaned down and placed a sweet kiss to Sirius’ s hair. After he had done so, Sirius had tilted his head back and smiled another gorgeous smile at the boy. He then leaned up and pressed a kiss to the grinning wolf’s chin. James said nothing about their actions, just continued to talk. His large grin however, showed how happy he was for his friends. Euphemia smiled, her youngest son was well taken care of for now. She knew exactly how fiercely protective James was of the younger male, and that Remus could easier hold Sirius down if needed. She set off to find her darling husband, she had to share the exciting news that both their sons had wonderful people to hold their hearts.

Hope:

Ever since that fateful night, Hope Lupin was constantly worried about her baby boy. She had been terrified when he had gone to Hogwarts, terrified that her special baby boy, who was so traumatized by his accident that he didn’t like to talk to people, would be so lonely. She had fretted over how he would handle the full moons as well, she knew how the wolf in him liked to bite and scratch at itself. She always hated to see how battered and bloody her son was after the full moon. The first week of her son’s classes she had been inconsolable, stressed and miserable as she waited for her son to write the first letter. And then it had arrived, and instead of being homesick and lonely, her son had written about the amazing boys he was sharing the dorm with.

James Potter, a quick, cheerful sort her son had written, who had busted out a stash of chocolate and pumpkin juice the very first night, and they had celebrated being at Hogwarts. Peter Pettigrew, the boy Remus had shared a compartment with on the train to school. He was quiet, Remus said, but he had a quick mind, and a dry with that was almost on par with Remus’s own. Then Remus mentioned Sirius Black. Oh her son had a lot to say about Sirius Black. The dark haired boy, who had bounded into their compartment on the train, asked if they would like to join him and another boy, James, in their compartment for a small feast of candies from the trolley. Then he had spoken about him again, as the boy apparently went against 50 years of tradition, by being sorted into Gryffindor, despite his family having all been Slytherin. Her son spoke of Sirius’s rebel streak, and the brilliant mind behind the sometimes cold exterior. How the grey eyes could light up with mischief, how his smile was like a special treat, only appearing every so often. How Sirius, James and Peter had gone above and beyond to help him with his situation.

Over the years, Sirius Black was a common name, along with the others. But somehow, Sirius was the most popular name mentioned about the group. Almost all of it was good, and even the few bad things mentioned, would end up with Remus smiling fondly at the memories associated with his stories. More often then not, when she asked Remus about school, he spoke of some new prank Sirius had came up with, which had somehow used a new topic their teacher’s were trying to teach them. If Hope didn’t know better, she would have sworn Remus was irrevocably in love with Sirius. However, she was certain that her son would tell her such information.

After six years of only seeing her son’s friends at the station, and hearing about them from her son, Hope had insisted that Remus invited his friends over for a couple of days during the summer. Her and Lyall’s house at the lake was large enough to accommodate the additional three boys, if they didn’t mind pairing up. She thought the boys could do with some good old fashion running around, and they could spend lots of time in the lake. Her son had loved growing up having the lake to swim around in. The day had arrived, her son was a nervous wreck, he had cleaned his room twice over the last two days, making sure nothing embarrassing was laying around. He had even started to clean the rest of the house, but Hope had slapped his head, and forced him to sit down and drink a cuppa.

The first to arrive was James, who had immediately pounced on her son, hugging him tightly, talking so quickly she could barely hear the individual words coming from his mouth. Remus however, just hugged the dark haired boy just as fiercely, somehow understanding what the other was saying. When the two separated, James Potter, turned to her, and immediately blushed, realizing he had just jumped her son while she was watching him. He apologized before introducing himself, and thanking her profusely for allowing them to come. She immediately liked the eager young man. He was a ball of energy, and so loving towards her son, she couldn’t help it, she grabbed him into a tight hug, assuring him it was no problem to invite them. Peter arrived next, and greeted her son, though not quite as enthusiastic as James had. The boy introduced himself to her as well, and presented her with a small tin of cookies, his mother made apparently to thank her for taking them in.

The last to arrive was Sirius Black. The boy stepped out of the fire place his eyes automatically shifting to find Remus. When he saw her son, his face lit up, and he immediately pulled the taller boy into a tight hug. She noticed that her son clutched Sirius to him, the hug lingering as if neither wanted to pull back. When they did, Sirius immediately turned to her, and smiled angelically. His eyes still bright and happy. He introduced himself, and also thanked her for having him. He reached into a satchel hanging from his shoulder and pulled out a single red and gold rose and a pack of something called chocolate cauldrons. He presented it to her, telling her it would last forever, and that the gold and red were the colours of her son’s house, and the chocolate cauldrons were something her son thought she would enjoy. She smiled, and thanked him for the kind gesture and pulled him into a tight hug. He seemed unsure when she first hugged him, but soon relaxed into her grasp.

The boys were then sent out to find their rooms and to change into something they could go into the lake with. Under ten minutes later, the boys were rushing outside, and she could hear the happy yells and shrieks as they rough housed in the water. A couple hours later, she called the boys in for dinner, hearing them pick on one another as they entered the house. Lyall stood at the door, drying them off with a spell, before letting them further into the house. They eagerly gathered around the dining room table, waiting until Lyall joined them before starting to eat. They talked and laughed over the food. Her son’s face was so happy, Hope actually had to remind herself to breathe and look away from his face. After dinner Peter, James, Remus, and Sirius helped clear the table, despite her best effort to tell them they didn’t have. Once everything was cleared up, the boys settled into the living room, Remus putting on a movie for the four of them to watch. She sat in her arm chair, pulling out her hand work, she was working on knitting a baby blanket for a friend’s daughter. James and Sirius were more captivated by her and her hand work. They approached her, letting the other’s watch the movie.

James and Sirius said that Euphemia Potter and Fleamont Potter were teaching them to knit as well, however they weren’t quite as good as her, and wanted to watch her to see if they could learn anything new. She smiled, happily readjusting her work, and telling them about the pattern she was doing. The lesson continued until the movie ended and it was decided that the boys should head to bed, if they wanted to explore the town tomorrow like they planned. James and Sirius thanked her for her lesson, and went to bed. After another two hours, Lyall and Hope also retired, however Hope looked into the room her son was sharing with Sirius, and noticed that instead of sleeping on the floor like she expected, they were both curled up together on the small twin size mattress.

She stood there for a while, observing the two “friends”. Remus was laying on his back, with Sirius laying on top of him. The dark haired boy’s head laying over her son’s heart. She couldn’t see Sirius’s face, but her son was wearing a small smile even as he slept. His face half buried in the dark hair. Sirius twitched in his sleep, and Remus let out a small growl, and Sirius immediately settled down. She had a hand pressed to her lips. Oh her sweet baby boy. He was in love, and he was deeply loved in return it would seem.

Over the next couple of days, Hope Lupin got to see how attached her son and Sirius were. Sirius was never more than an arms length away from her son, and more often then not was tucked up under Remus’s arm. His own arm wrapped around Remus’s waist, almost possessively so. James was usually trying to pull Sirius in one direction, however Remus never let him get to far away. At one point, she had walked into the den, with none of the boys noticing her, watching as the Remus pulled Sirius down on his lap, while he was sitting in the recliner. The dark haired boy didn't resist, and instead wiggled around until he was comfortable, and pulled out a bar of chocolate, which he immediately shared with her son. Sirius held the bar in front of Remus’s face, and after her son had taken a bite, Sirius had kissed his cheek. Remus smiled down at the younger boy, and kissed Sirius’s forehead before tucking the boy under his chin.

Hope Lupin was so happy. Her boy was no longer a baby, he was a teenager, a very responsible one, who seemed to have found someone who loved him completely. Someone who not only knew about his accident, but loved him despite and because of it. Sirius didn’t shy away from her son’s condition, and instead, he joked about it, making her son smile about something he had once hated so much. Lyall came up behind her, his head resting on her shoulder as he whispered in her ear. “Our son did good. He’s a good boy.”

#wolfstar #Sirius x Remus #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #James Potter #Euphemia Potter #Fleamont Potter #Hope Lupin #Lyall Lupin

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danetobelieve · 4 years

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It’s The End Of The World || Orion, Ricky, Winston. ft Lydia

TIMING: the night of 12/06/2020 (12th June) LOCATION: Abandoned Warehouse Rave on the docks PARTIES: @3starsquinn, @ricky-corderbro, @danetobelieve, @inspirationdivine SUMMARY: Rio, Winston and Ricky attend an end of the world rave. Ricky is jet lagged. Winston is stressed and makes bad decisions and Orion throws up. Lydia makes a new friend.

Winston wasn’t really feeling like going partying. Actually, going raving at the potential end of the world was apparently what everyone else was doing and when Todd had excitedly explained that they were going to be invited to a rave that he was playing at, well Winston hadn’t really been keen to go. But after a few drinks and some arm twisting, Winston had been convinced to go along with their other friends. They’d gotten dressed and were stepping out of the taxi that had dropped them off by the warehouse near the docks and Winston was nervous. They’d pre-gamed a bit before and they were tipsy, but that didn’t change the fact that they had seen some shit with Rio. They knew what needed to be done to resolve this and they weren’t going to be involved. They couldn’t change what might happened and honestly Winston had never felt more helpless. “Todd told us to just say we were here as his guests and show him our tickets and he’d let us in,” Winston adjusted their glasses a little, “all ready?”

Orion’s anxiety had been through the roof. He wasn’t sure if he had found the time to mention this to either of his roommate’s, but he hated parties. He had been to a few now. All times dragged against his will by Athena to some frat house where he proceeded to find the farthest bathroom from the noise and hide out. He had gotten so little sleep the last few weeks studying everything about this demon language that he wasn’t even sure he could stay conscious at this party. He had already dozed off in the car multiple times on the way here. It definitely didn’t help that Rio barely knew this Todd character that Winston and Ricky were friends with. He just hoped that the two of them weren’t like Athena was at parties. She usually stuck around for about ten minutes before ditching Rio. He wasn’t sure he was equipped to handle that here. “I’m sure this goes without saying, but I am definitely not.” Rio sighed, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. “I think I need… a drink. Or several.” Rio found himself saying, the exhaustion and stress getting to him. Rio had never been drunk before, he had never even had more than a couple of sips of alcohol. This was going to be a long night.

One very early and very long plane ride and one incredibly hellish layover in LaGuardia later; Ricky was back in the US, back in White Crest, and apparently on his way to a rave that Todd was DJing at. Truth be told it wasn’t the thing he wanted most to be doing right now; a long bath and about three straight days of sleep sounded a lot better. But even though he was still adjusting to his human body after a straight week and a half in his true form with his extended family and was still trying to figure out how to move with legs instead of swimming, he was happy to be home with Winston and Rio. Even if they were crammed into the back seat of a taxi. “I need something with caffeine or I’m going to pass out. I haven’t even had time to unpack yet; I wore these clothes on the plane, and I am not nearly awake or put together enough to make it through tonight without some help” They all fell out of the cab and Ricky stretched, sauntering up to the door with a smile on his face. “Hey. Cordero, Dane, and Quinn. We’re here as guests of the DJ.” He held out their tickets and waited for them to be let in, turning to his friends as the walked into what felt like a solid wall of sound, even to Ricky’s terrible hearing. “Well. To the bar?”

As a large and very muscular bouncer led them through to the warehouse which had been brightly decorated in UV paint, Winston headed straight for the bar and probably would’ve made it if they weren’t accosted by a number of scantily clad men and women who attacked Winston with paint similar to that which was decorating the walls in patterns of eyes, spirals and cascades of colour that shone brightly in the darkness. The music was booming and before Winston knew it they were as brightly coloured as the walls, their t shirt was ruined and they definitely needed a drink now if they hadn’t needed one before. “Three actually six jaeger bombs please and like a vodka coke,” Winston passed the bombs round to their friends and swallowed them with a grimace, gross. They immediately regretted their drink of choice and tried to slam away the taste with copious amounts of vodka coke which some how made it worse. “Uh, maybe this wasn’t a good idea?”

The group was ambushed by some fanatic painters. Orion’s hoodie and jeans were sacrificed to their whim, and though Rio mostly let them do their thing, he was very adamant about his sleeves remaining down as they trailed their brushes across him. They compromised by spending extra time on his face and neck, which only slightly stressed him out knowing that he had no way of knowing what they had drawn on him. He was totally lying; it really stressed him out. Even more reason to drink. Winston ordered a concerning amount of shots at the bar and Rio tried calming himself down. This was what he had wanted, right? “I uh- can you just make me something super sweet? Like really really sweet.” Rio smiled nervously, pulling the fake ID that Athena had procured for him out of his wallet. The bartender barely gave it a second glance before shuffling off to make their drinks. “Is this where I die?” Rio found himself asking aloud, taking a moment to glance around the place. It was packed wall to wall with glowing, dancing people. The music was deafeningly loud and it was way too hot for the hoodie that Rio refused to take off. Rio didn’t waste any time when the bartender brought the drinks over. He slammed the first shot as quickly as he could, immediately coughing and clearing his throat. “Oh my god ew! Oh god this stuff tastes like battery acid. Why would they make this? This was a terrible idea.”

It was only because he’d let Winston and Rio enter the warehouse before him that Ricky had enough time to react to the glow paint artists, whipping his shirt off and tucking it into his back pocket before they covered him with geometric designs that pulsed in time with the flashing lights. He pounded the two Jaeger bombs that Winston had ordered him, wry smile crossing his face as it looked like Rio might die from the alcohol content, “Only the first two taste like battery acid. It’s when they start tasting good that you gotta start worrying about how fucked up you’re getting.” He ordered himself a vodka soda and looked around the crowd, sipping his drink. This might not have been exactly what he’d wanted to do on his first night home but he was getting enough appreciative looks from appropriately handsome men to make this night potentially worthwhile. “This was a great idea, Winston. Don’t even second guess it. We’re supporting our bro, getting drunk, and getting his on by crowds of people who appreciate the fact that all three of us are studs. Should we go say hey to Todd? Least let him know we’re here jamming out to his set?” Finishing his drink he ordered another one, tipping the bartender heavily as he started to wind his way through the crowd and up towards the DJ booth.

The crowd pulsed and throbbed as everyone danced. Winston could barely help themselves from getting into the mood. They were pretty drunk now, two jaeger bombs and the vodka, not to mention everything they’d had before. Grabbing Orion’s hand, Winston dragged their friend slowly through the dance floor. “Battery acid is exactly what I imagine these taste like, but they’re also going to make this way more bearable way faster.” It was hot and Winston couldn’t imagine how Orion could stand being in just a hoodie but they weren’t about to push the matter as they slowly made their way through the crowd of sweaty bodies that were doing their best to move along to the thrum of the bass and the blare of the drums. “It’s going to take us forever to get towards the stage,” Winston was sure that being on Todd’s guest list meant that they could do this the easy way, but right now they were too drunk to really think clearly and honestly, if they were going to do this then they might as well enjoy themselves, “Ricky you gotta go first and clear us a way you beefcake.” Winston giggled tipsily, unsure if their friends had even heard a word they said over the roar of the crowd and the hum of the music. Maybe slightly against their better judgement Winston was starting to enjoy the end of the world. Why not have a good time? Right?

Winston and Ricky was the only solace that Orion had right now. They were grounding him in many ways. Mentally, they were keeping his anxiety from completely spiraling. Physically, they were the only reason that Rio hadn’t ran from the place as soon as he stepped foot inside of it. Right now, the only thing Rio could focus one as how hot it was. He was sweating, and kept pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes with the hand that wasn’t being dragged through the dance floor by Winston. “He is a beefcake isn’t he?” Rio giggled, shutting himself up by taking a long sip from the fruity drink the bartender had mixed him. It tasted way better than those shots had. Rio took another drink. People pushed against them as they pushed onward and Rio found himself ducking and dodging flailing arms as they danced to the music. How did they think with how loud the music was? The dim lighting, trippy glowing colors, deafening music and crowd was making Rio dizzy. The place was disorienting enough, but Winston’s hand dragging wrapped around his was making Rio’s head spin all it’s own. Another drink. “Do you think Todd hates me?” Rio found himself asking, a question he would usually never ask anyone aloud, especially mutual friends of the guy. The alcohol was working way too quickly. Another nervous drink. “Don’t answer that that was dumb. Let’s just find Todd.” Another drink. Oh no, he was almost out already. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Oh jesus. You guys are already drunk?” Ricky slammed back his drink as they made their way through the crowd, effortlessly parting the sea of people with his aptly-described beefcakeness, “That’s me. Dumb of brain, thicc of heart and ass.” He made sure he had an eye on both Winston and Rio at all times; this definitely didn’t seem like either of their scenes and he wasn’t about to lose them to a random drug trip induced by someone random ravegoer. He almost missed Rio’s question, and it was only because he’d turned around to check on them that he was able to read the other man’s lips, “What? Of course not. I don’t think Todd is capable of hating anyone, like biologically. It’s in that man’s blood to just love everyone and be the chillest of chill bois.” As they passed by a smaller secondary bar on their way to the DJ booth Ricky ordered a couple of shots and pounded them in quick succession, “It’s harder for me to get drunk.” He explained as he set the small glasses back on the bar and gave the bartender a nod, “We got more blood than you guys.” Eventually he muscled, smiled, and danced them a path through the dancefloor up to the booth where Todd looked like a) he was having the time of his life and b) he was on about seven different drugs. This close to a bank of speakers it was impossible for Ricky to hear anything except the bass so he just waved and shot Todd a smile and a thumbs up; those were pretty universal, right?

“Hey, we’re not all build like a brick shit house Ricky,” Winston replied with a giggle as they sipped their drink through a straw and gently squeezed Rio’s hand. They could barely hear anything that Rio was saying, but they were pretty sure he’d just said something about Todd hating him. Which was absurd. “Of course Todd doesn’t hate you, Ricky’s right, he couldn’t hate you if he tried.” They flashed them a reassuring smile and had to admit that they kind of envied the amount that Ricky could drink. He seemed like he was having a good time on his own without needing to be drunk. It took them slightly longer to get over to Ricky and Todd, as they were separated in the buzz and hum of the crowd. Left with just Rio, Winston was eventually able to pull them close enough to Todd to wave from the crowd and grin, but despite the potential impending end of the world, Winston had to admit that they loved this song. “Fuck, this is actually pretty fun,” they said dancing in place, hand still clutching Rio’s fingers, “I’m probably just really drunk.”

Orion felt a little bit better, with the assurance that Todd didn’t hate him. At least as far as Ricky and Winston are concerned. Rio was way too aware that he wasn’t sober. Or maybe he wasn’t nearly as aware as he thought he was. Was that possible? Was drunk Rio capable of being faux aware of being drunk without actually realizing just how drunk he was? Did any of that make any sense? The confusion made Rio giggle. Rio knew his tolerance was going to be awful considering he hadn't drank before, but he had hoped that being a hunter might give him at least some semblance of an advantage. But Winston was clearly just as bad off, because he was suddenly dancing along to the music, a song that Rio wasn’t familiar with. There was a noticeable difference now. Even drunk Rio could tell. Before, moving through the crowd together it just made sense that the two would hold onto each other so they didn’t lose their way. Now… well the two were standing next to one another and Rio’s fingers were still in Winston’s grasp. “You’re definitely drunk” Rio laughed, watching them dance along to the music without moving their feet. It was more swaying than anything else. “I think I’m drunk too.” Rio admitted. Was two shots and a mixed drink normal for someone to get drunk off of? Despite his internal monologue telling him not to, Rio found himself starting to sway in rhythm with Winston, trying to play along with him. If he tried to focus on the music he might be able to ignore how the only part of his body that he could focus on was the hand that Winston was holding onto. “I’m uh- I’m glad I came here. With you and Ricky.”

It was a semi-familiar sensation to Ricky to stand on the outside watching other people. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Winston had grabbed Rio’s hand when they’d started working their way through the dancefloor, and it definitely didn’t escape his notice that the hand holding hadn’t stopped when they’d reached the DJ booth. He watched as they both drunkenly started to dance, a wry smile across his face. It wasn’t the strangest pairing he’d seen. Honestly it sort of made a strange sense. Ricky started to dance with a guy who’d been giving him a meaningful look while he kept an eye on his friends. Nothing wrong with cutting loose and having fun but he didn’t want either of them to end up the meal of some rave-stalking monster. Which in White Crest was a distinct possibility. The song made a smooth transition into the next one in the set, expertly guided by Todd’s skill, and Ricky leaned in to take the sharpie offered by his dance partner, quickly scribbling his number on the back of the man’s hand before moving back to stand near Todd. He was still close enough to keep an eye on Winston and Rio but not so close that he was infringing on whatever moment they were about to have.

The world was spinning. But gently. Winston lumbered around, convinced that they were the most graceful dancer that had ever lived. The music slammed, pulsed and pounded. Todd was so good at this Winston thought as they slipped closer to Orion for a moment before prancing away (okay maybe it was more like a stumble). Their head felt thick and Winston wasn’t sure that they were that drunk. Then the world took a turn and Winston fell into Orion. Their hands coming apart for a moment and Winston couldn’t help but grip Orion’s surprisingly muscular shoulder. It wasn’t that he was Ricky ripped. There were no muscles glistening at obtuse sizes. Rio was just toned. The muscles were there but they weren’t for display or pretention (Ricky). Orion always kept everything covered up, always wore long hoodies or jeans or whatever and Winston wondered why in that moment they weren’t dying from the heat. But they didn’t care, they couldn’t let go, not for a second. Sure they’d used Rio to keep themselves standing, but it was more then that now. Winston’s breath caught in their throat as they looked into deep hazel eyes. Biting their lip, Winston felt the Earth stop spinning for a moment.

Orion had finally relaxed. The music was still too loud. People still crowded around Rio’s personal space. And it felt like Rio may have a heat stroke at any moment. But he had pushed all of that to the back of his mind. Because he was having fun. With Winston, dancing here and definitely drunk. He didn’t even care about how dizzy or lightheaded he felt. Rio was convinced that Winston’s hand holding onto his was the only thing keeping him from floating off into space. When Winston practically fell into Rio, something else finally clicked into place. This was what Rio wanted. Rio knew that things were different with Winston. That the way he felt for them was different than his other friends. But Rio had never looked further into it. Had never wanted to. It made sense. Winston had it all. They were smart and talented. They were passionate about things and had a lot in common with Rio. They were really, really pretty. In spite of the alcohol and music drowning out his senses, Rio’s feelings for Winston were overwhelmingly clear in this moment. And that was terrifying. “Uh- you okay there?” Rio asked, trying to sound concerned but way too busy processing. Plus, he was pretty sure he was also laughing at how clumsy Winston had been.

Giggling, Winston felt someone brush past him. They must’ve been big because Winston was pushed closer to Rio. they basically had their arms drunkenly wrapped around their ‘friend’ at that point and Rio’s lips looked so soft. The world swirled and Winston was having the best time. Despite the odor of sweat and the sticky floor. Not to mention several drinks which had already been spilled on them making them smell of stale beer, Winston couldn’t help but admit to themselves that Rio might be the best smelling thing that they had ever encountered. Their eyes were captivating and Winston couldn’t help themselves. One second they were just looking into Orion’s eyes. Then they weren’t sure what they did. They weren’t sure why they did. They weren’t even completely sure how they managed to do it but they were stood staring at Rio one second and the next Winston was kissing him. Gently at first, their lips just brushing against one another, Winston could feel the other breathing and they couldn’t help but close the gap between them, pulling Rio close as they embraced him.

Orion wasn’t sure who initiated it. Right now, Rio wasn’t sure how he was able to keep himself from toppling over. All he knew was that one minute the two had been dancing and laughing and now they were kissing. Rio fumbled his way through it. Intoxication may actually be working in his favor, helping to make up for the lack of experience and general awkwardness that under normal circumstances may have sent Rio spiraling. This was his first real kiss right? Sure, Winn had kissed him in acting class but that had been during a scene. It was in character. It wasn’t real. This was real. And it didn’t take long for Rio to forget any fears and melt into it. He ignored the added heat and welcomed Winston moving in closer, Rio wrapped their arms around their neck as if letting go would end the moment. Rio was desperate for this moment to not end. Who cared that they were in public and that a million people could see them? Who cared that Rio usually hated PDA. All he cared about right now was this moment with Winston.

Honestly. Winston had never really dated a lot. It wasn’t that they weren’t interested, it was more that other people weren’t necessarily interested in them. Which was fine. Winston had been busy for a long time, working on a million and one different projects. Always too busy to pursue someone who would just reject them anyway. But suddenly, in that moment Winston knew that they had been missing out. If every kiss felt like this then Winston was sure that there was something here that they should’ve been doing way sooner then this. Holding Rio tightly, they kissed them until they couldn’t help but pull back for air. There was a feeling of elation, of intoxication … fuck Winston didn’t know if they were just drunk but they wanted to kiss Rio again and so they did. Why not? What did they have to lose at the end of the world anyway?

If the world truly was ending, this was exactly how Orion wanted things to go. With Winston, exactly like this. And Ricky... speaking of him, where was Ricky? The urge to scope the place out for him was distracted when Winston kissed him again. “Holy... Woah” Was the most poetic thing that Rio could manage to mutter once the two had pulled apart again. Rio was gasping for breath, a mixture of the heat and making up for the oxygen Rio had deprived himself of while making out with Winston. This was exactly what Rio had wanted, and Rio couldn’t help but be... happy. The thought made Rio’s stomach twist. The other shoe has to drop soon right? Something would have to go wrong. It always went wrong. Because the world wasn’t ending. Even if right now, Rio would have been perfectly fine with that. For the longest time, Rio had thought that the kiss had sobered him up. He hadn’t felt more grounded since they had arrived and he hadn’t been thinking this clearly in days. But it all came rushing back to him now. Rio was dizzy, sounds around him were nothing more than a loud buzzing and the contents of his stomach swam, threatening to force themselves back up. “So sorry- I just I have to uh- bathroom. Need bathroom.” Rio tried stating clearly before abandoning the attempt completely and rushing off into the crowding, desperately trying to push his way through before he completely lost his cool. And his dinner.

Winston was convinced that they were in heaven. They couldn’t breath but they didn’t need to breath. They had everything they needed and if they could have made a moment exist and last for a life time then Winston would’ve wished for this moment to span for centuries and millenia because in that second they realised all at once just how strongly they felt for Rio. He was so smart, and so kind and he cared so much about doing the right thing that he had rejected his birth identity and his own family because he couldn’t do what they were asking of him. Winston had never met anyone who was so good and pure and kind and Winston didn’t know how to deal with these feelings. “Oh, of course, sure, no … worries.” With that, Orion was gone and the kiss with it. Winston felt panic crack in their stomach and turned to look for Ricky. But he was gone. Either with someone else or the jet lag was too much. Catching Todd’s eye, Winston made it clear that they were heading out and decided to give Orion some space. Texting them that they were heading home, Winston left the club, much drunker and much more ashamed then they’d been when they came in.

This was terribly macabre, and thus terribly White Crest. Beach balls painted white to look like eyes decorated this distasteful establishment, and even with ear buds in the music pulsed too loudly to be comfortable. Although if the world was ending, who cared about ear health? It was nothing in comparison to a banshee scream, but still unpleasant. Quieter, gentler music appealed to her more, but the talent at play here was undeniable. Her eyes drifted to the stage, as the DJ announced the end of his set, and another began. She squeezed through the crowd, under sweaty arm pits and past leering men, hurrying to meet him. He’d caught her eye last time, too, but she hadn’t been able to get close then. Now, there were no friends to squeeze through. “You’re Todd, the DJ that performed the last set, right? You were incredible.” The artistic potential rolled off him like waves in high tide. She looked him over, a smile curling over her features. Oh yes, he would do ever so nicely. Lydia’s stomach rumbled. “You look like you might like some company.”

#wickedswriting #para #p: orion #p: lydia #p: ricky #chatzy #chatzy para #its the end of the world

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flyswhumpcenter · 5 years

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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. Green deltas are for requested prompts.)

There’s a reason why Chronos was such a cruel god.

I almost forgot to post this fic... I started it a while back, got art block, and only went back to it during a boring geography lesson during Whumptober. It was also not meant to be an Inazuma fic, but sometimes I have a weird creativity and muse. Don't ask me, the wonders of the human mind I guess. It'll come to literally nobody's surprise that I ship Anna and Nosaka because I'm the token F/M shipper of the main fanfic writers of this fandom (y'know, gotta contrast my colleagues and provide the stuff nobody but me and maybe an IRL friend wants). I'm surprised I've never managed to finish a fic with them before, tho: yes, the previous prompt fill, "Bedside Vigil" was supposed to be for them until I switched to Haizaki/Akane over... my Tomodachi Life game immediately pairing them up (true story). Anyway. This fic does imply to a road accident of some sort, so if you're sensitive to this kind of topic (for which you're entirely justified, tbh, that's coming from someone who's almost been in one), proceed with caution. It's nothing graphic or anything, just floating in the background of this story, though. I also almost forgot to mention this is supposed to be set in my Inazuma Café AU, but the only reason why you need to know that is because they're college students there, and why Anna and Hikaru are as friendly to each other as they are here. I mean, if you wanna know more, I'll gladly respond to questions.

It’s also the last story I can write for this card without getting a Five in a Row, which I may or may not have done on purpose lol

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For Time Cannot Be Accelerated

Summary: Anna didn't think ambulance rides could last this long on the mind. She was seriously proven wrong.

Fandom: Inazuma Eleven (Ares/Orion continuity; implied college AU) Relationships: Platonic Anna & Hikaru friendship, implied established Anna/Nosaka

Wordcount: 1.7K words

Content Warnings: Implied road accident, talks of death, some blood and talk of injury.

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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They’re all tense in the ambulance. It doesn’t help that they share a small space amongst themselves, all cranked in one back of a truck that had clearly been made to have one stretcher and the paramedics watching over it. Nobody talks, except the latter amongst themselves in the front of the ambulance and through the vehicle. Instead, they don’t look at each other, too busy staring at the floor or their responsibility.

Anna has opted for the floor, for the time being.

It’s overwhelming to remain here, in a crowded place where she felt alone nonetheless, drowned in the noise of the beeping machinery and blaring sirens echoing on the inside, feet surrounded by wires, hands trembling and sorrow she desperately kept inside. Her thoughts are still shaken from what had happened merely moments before, isolating her even further, words having escaped from her mouth and her vocal cords remaining knotted with no throat clearing able to untie them back to usefulness. She’s speechless, voiceless, useless.

Her shoulder is pressed against Ichihoshi’s, whose hand happens to sometimes brush against her naked arms. From what little she can see of his face, drowned in the darkness of the vehicle and lit by the unstable, flickering coloured lights of the different monitors crippling her earing, he isn’t any more relaxed than she was, shoulders stiff and frowned eyebrows, biting his lip, trying not to fidget with his fingers. She feels like she should be telling him something to make him untense, but considering how tense she also is, she has no idea what she’s even supposed to utter. Her mental syllabus has given up on her for the time being.

In this moment of despair and desolation, Anna still admires the valiant efforts of the paramedics making sense of the numbers displayed on tiny screens and muttering a language she doesn’t understand most of, words whose meaning she has no idea of flying way over her head. They’ve kept their cool when she was on the verge of tears, an unknown yet powerful force preventing her from falling to her knees and weeping like she is, frankly, wanting to do above everything else. Still, she’s the Empress, and no Empress has ever cried when her capacity of judgement was needed.

The air of the ambulance was hot, too much so, smothering both Ichihoshi and her. If she could take a breather outside, even if it’d be for a mere moment or from a minuscule hole, her head would spin far less quickly, her world would stabilize, her mind would be much further from the verge of breaking down under its own weight. She craves tranquillity and serenity, two states of mind she’s meant to have and yet lacked in these desperate moments.

Anna has started finding ways to recover her calm. The floor of the ambulance which seemed highly uncomfortable and disgustingly dirty when she climbed in now looked more than comfortable enough to her, but they lacked the space to even attempt sitting down. Before long, she’s realized the hard reality of things: there’s no way for her to get even the slightest bit more comfortable, and despite the speeds this vehicle is going at, it’s still taking ages in her mind.

In a way, it reminds her of being on a sinking ship, swimming in the cold sea, except she doesn’t even have the merit of risking hypothermia because she’s boarding on a rescue boat while someone else is pushing it, giving their skin to the freezing waters and floating debris. Morbid imagery she tries to erase out of her mind as soon as possible, yet the beating of her heart making itself known in her head and neck prevent her from not thinking about death nor debris.

“I… I hope everything will be alright,” Ichihoshi eventually stutters, in an almost-whisper, voice hiding behind the ill-paced cacophony.

“So do I,” she replies as she notices something was dripping along her skin, eyeing the liquid going down her arm. Drifting her glance in its direction, she sees he’s holding his right arm with his left hand pressed against his jacket’s fabric, a faint difference in colours showing up in the mostly uniform light blue-and-red that his white sleeves had become.

As a result, her voice changes in tone, “are you okay, Ichihoshi?”

“It stings, but it’s nothing too bad. I’ll have it checked when we’ll arrive.”

The trembling, weakness in his own voice makes her more than doubtful of his statement. He’s unstable on his feet, almost swaying, crashing into her when the ambulance unfortunately shifted too quickly for him to catch himself on something, fingers slipping on the metal walls. She barely catches him with weak arms, legs feeling fainter until she’s stabilized him on his feet.

“I don’t believe that it can’t be ‘too bad’, if you’re tilting this much,” she tells him, even more concern melting into acid. “Let me see”.

A sense of responsibility gives her back some of her stability, legs straightening up, eyes sharper as she tried to see in the half-dark. Without a word, she took off her comrade’s sleeve, noticing the sharp contrast marked by what could only be a wound. It seems like a deep cut, with shards reflecting the dim lights visibly exiting from it. Her hair rises on her limbs as soon as she knows what this is about.

“How long do we have left until we arrive?” She demands, in an imploring voice, to the paramedics.

They’re not able to provide a clear time, “a couple minutes left, traffic’s really bad, our apologies”, so she has to deal with it and simply keep Ichihoshi close to her, making sure he doesn’t trip on himself, inspecting for other wounds he could have. Aside from his arm, she thinks she sees a stain on his stomach and another on his right leg, although they’re less noticeable and she kind of sighs in relief to herself about that fact. It must mean they’re less grievous than the one she saw first.

“I really hope he’s gonna be okay…” Ichihoshi whispers close to her ear, back lying against the metal.

The concern she’s tried to hold in until now by thinking of something else and failing to fully do so breaks through the gates and floods her mind again. She has too much to worry about and not enough available space, the scratches on her knees and elbows from the glass shards paling in comparison to the anguish that this ambulance ride is starting to become.

“Same here…” Her voice almost chokes on itself, but she breathes in and out, swallows her pride and her stress in one gulp, and continues speaking as not to betray her actual state of mind. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s pulled through worse, I know it…”

Her hands still enlace themselves in a silent prayer she tries to hide from the world.

“He’ll… be fine. He will be fine.”

She wants to cry.

“You’re right. Surely he’ll make it…”

Anna isn’t lying to reassure herself, merely speaking her truth. Yuuma has always proven himself to being capable of the most daring stunts, even life-threatening ones. While she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to fully forgive him hiding his tumour away from her for reasons he’s never quite told her about, merely tune down the hurt he’s caused her by taking in account the reasons he did so; she has to use it as proof it should be fine. She only has hope to keep herself afloat now, her reason having fled the scene.

Yuuma is capable of great things, that much she’s sure of. She doesn’t know him entirely yet, and is certain she won’t ever be able to fully understand his character, yet she trusts him with her own life and, in these dire moments, he needs her. He needs her to remain strong and level-headed, to withstand the pressure and the desolation taking root inside her heart. They’ve promised to remain together and be there for each other: it’s time for her to fulfil her part of the trade.

Plus, from the three of them involved in this tragic accident, she’s the only one who has grazes instead of injuries. She also has to keep an eye on Ichihoshi on behalf of both Yuuma and her.

“He’ll make it. I’m certain of it,” she repeats, more to herself than to her friend.

“I’m sure of it too,” he adds, in a similar fashion, and they’re back to both silently pray in silence as time slowly flows before their eyes, like the calm waves of a serene beach coming and going. If she closes her eyes and tries ignoring reality enough, she can almost hear the sea instead of sirens and cryptic whispers.

“And you? Are you okay?” she asks, her hands leaving their praying position, about to inspect her friend.

“I’ll be fine…”

He sounds too unsure to her liking, but before she can even comment on that, the atmosphere changes as she hears in echoes the nearby sirens of other ambulances.

This is when Anna realizes that she couldn’t have been more relieved to see a hospital in her life, making sights she’d have wished never to see again some she was looking forward to: the paramedics shifting around the stretches and talking among themselves in a slightly different way, the monitors displaying new numbers, men shouting in an urgent tone. Almost unbeknownst to them, they were holding each other’s arm for support in dire times, the smell of iron sticking to his skin, her composure coming back despite the tears having taken away some of her makeup.

They’re most likely both ugly sights too, but they’re alive, they’ve arrived, and it’ll all be fine, eventually. For now, they step down from the ambulance, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Despite the circumstances, neither of them succumb to their darker thoughts and bruises, not a complaint heard despite Ichihoshi grunting in pain from time to time and her lack of balance and remaining strength to carry the both of them without herself panting.

Still, Anna is the Empress, this much she knows; and an empress remains strong, no matter the circumstances. She’ll trust Yuuma and bring Ichihoshi to someone who can help tend to his wounds. That’s her mission and she’ll make sure to accomplish.

#inazuma eleven #mikado anna #ichihoshi hikaru #nosaka yuuma #yuuann #inazuma eleven orion no kokuin #inazuma eleven ares no tenbin #bad things happen bingo #bthb 2 #injury #cw blood #bleeding #ambulance ride #worry #hurt comfort #au: inacafé #plat: morning star #otp: emperor and empress

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songofwizardry · 6 years

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wolfstar teacher!au, part 2: the other marauders

part 1 of my wolfstar teacher!au that I posted an embarrassingly long time ago (you can find it here) got way, waaay more attention than I was expecting it to, so here y’all go: part 2, the backstory for Sirius, James and Peter, and how they all ended up in and around Hogwarts. Feat. our faves, Fleamont and Euphemia Potter! as always, enjoy and let me know what y’all think! [content warning: parental queerphobia/abuse/implied awfulness in bullet points 3 to 6.] ☆------------------------☆------------------------☆

So let’s talk about where our faves, the rest of the Marauders, are.

Being posh af, both James Potter and Sirius Black attended Hogwarts from the time they started secondary school.

Originally from London, Sirius is the kid of Orion, a Senegalese diplomat who was posted in London right at the start of his career, and Walburga, oldest daughter of a Ghanaian-French high-society couple, who moved from Paris to London when she was a child.

Sirius’ interactions with their family headed straight towards disastrous very quickly—during their initial years at Hogwarts, Sirius’ rebellion got more and more noticeable, all number of increasingly-terse letters and increasingly-angry phone calls were exchanged during term-time, and summers got increasingly-awful every year. This culminated in Sirius being outed, in a horrible, dramatic, and very teen-TV-drama-very-special-queer-episode-esque way at one am one night, the summer between their fifth and sixth years.

The ensuing conversation (‘I will not tolerate anything – anyone – of that sort under my roof!’ / ‘Well that’s fucking fine, isn’t it, because I won’t be under your roof!’ / ‘You’re doing this to yourself, Sirius, remember that—we’re not kicking you out. You’re making this choice.’ / ‘Oh yes, just one in a long string of things I’ve chosen to do, things I’ve chosen to be, isn’t it? Fine, then, I’m choosing to leave.’) meant that Sirius walked out of Grimmauld Place at about two-thirty in the morning, with only their coat, their mobile that was on twenty percent charge, and their ‘emergencies’ bag that they’d had for years now (it didn’t contain much more than several old cereal bars, about a hundred quid in change that a much-younger Sirius had squirrelled away, and a scrap of paper, dating back to first year, with James’ home number and his address scrawled on in messy handwriting that was definitely not Sirius’).

More than slightly out of it, Sirius ended up walking to the end of the road, called a cab to drive them across London in the middle of the night, paid the ludicrous eighty-something pound fare in mostly one- and two-pound coins, and finally, at about four in the morning, stood in front of the Potters’ house and called their landline.

(It was James’ dad who picked up, James’ dad who insisted Just call me Monty, now, none of that, whenever Sirius referred to him as Mr. Potter, James’ dad who’d given Sirius a hug the second time they’d met and whose glasses were somehow, impossibly, even more crooked than James’ own. When he picked up the phone, his voice was thicker, accent broader, with sleep; and Sirius, suddenly horribly unsure, crumpled the ancient note from James in one fist and said, “Hey, uh, Mr. Potter? I’ve—well, I’ve left my house, I’m—outside yours? Can I come in?”)

That was how Sirius, short of everything but legal adoption, ended up a Potter child, had their diet switched to one that suddenly contained far too many rotis, and was introduced by James solely as his sibling, with an associated glare that dared anyone to question it.

After Hogwarts, Sirius’ deep-seated desire to not return to London manifested in them running off to St. Andrews to do a fine art degree. Mrs. Potter, who had been looking forward to having the children not be off in Scotland, was slightly disappointed, but she responded by instead posting Sirius numerous packages of fancy teabags, because Mrs. Potter (rightfully) believed that in the absence of being actually there to fuss over someone, the next best alternative was to provide them with tea.

While Sirius was off being artsy as fuck, James Potter was off… also being pretty artsy. In a move that made Monty raise his eyebrows and quietly wonder how he’d ended up with not one, but two children doing creative arts, James stayed closer to home, went to Reading, and read English and Creative Writing. It took staying on for a Master’s for James to decide he’d had enough of academia, and of the overwhelming whiteness of English departments, for a bit, and to decide that he wanted A Break, and also a source of income that wasn’t a student loan. Enter Sirius.

James had been off being pretty unemployable, while Sirius was being… slightly more employable. A couple years volunteering during their degree had led them to the shocking realisation that holy shit, they liked teaching people about artsy shit. Their only problem was that nobody (short of the Potter parents, but Sirius wasn’t keen on taking more money from them) wanted to fund an art teacher. A year out of uni, with a year of mixed work and volunteering under their belt – leading museum tours, art therapy at kids’ hospitals, one particularly fantastic weekend spent spray-painting with a youth group in Manchester, pretty much anything they could get their hands on that had ‘art’ and ‘young people’ in the description – Sirius heard, through the grapevine, that Trelawney had finally retired.

On a whim, they called up Hogwarts. The conversation with Dumbledore went something like this: ‘I haven’t got a teaching qualification, sir, but I do have a full year of experience–‘ / ‘We’re an independent school, Sirius, we don’t exactly need the qualification. Anyway, an art degree and some experience is more than Sibyl had when she started, so why don’t you send an application along to me, hmm?’

Hogwarts got back to Sirius quickly, which is how, a week later, they called up James, saying, “Hey, you know how you wanted a break from uni and all that shit? How do you feel about moving to Hogsmeade with me?”

It was a completely impractical decision. James, unlike Sirius, didn’t have a job offer there, didn’t have plans, he only had the sudden realisation that he’d kinda missed living with Sirius, and his pretty-unshakeable confidence that things would always turn out the way they were meant to.

He said yes.

Which is how, two years down the road, we find the two of them here—living opposite The Three Broomsticks in a small house, one bedroom on the bottom floor and one on the top, that’s owned by Rosmerta.

Sirius is an established figure at Hogwarts, where they’re a bit of a student favourite and have acquired a reputation for being slightly chaotic (possibly because they once let a stressed year eleven class decorate the wall of the art classroom, spray-painting it with the words No such thing as bad art!).

James, being a bit too posh to have ever done the unemployed-grad thing of waiting tables, is a triple-threat freelancer instead—he writes fortnightly book reviews, which often end up with a bit of a commentary on The Human Condition, for eccentric magazine The Quibbler; he contributes regularly to Parivaar, an online artsy zine/website/collective that started up in Birmingham but has now got contributors across the UK and readers across the world, that describes itself as art, fiction, and opinions by and for desi rebels, misfits and weirdos; and, because Hogsmeade is small, he does the marketing and runs the social media for The Three Broomsticks—which isn’t much work, considering how small it is, but at least he can ensure the fifty-odd people, mostly students, who follow @3BroomsticksPub only see grammatically-perfect tweets.

The Potter parents are… slightly concerned about James’ rather non-traditional sources of income, but Euphemia reads The Quibbler and can’t deny he writes very well, and he says he’s fine and no, the two of them don’t need any help with the rent, thank you very much, so they tut a bit from afar and perhaps still send them too many teabags, and load both James and Sirius up with a frankly ridiculous number of tupperware containers full of curry and roti when they come visit.

This is when James and Sirius meet Peter Pettigrew.

It’s a rainy evening in late March. The two of them have, earlier that day, just come back up from London, where they spent the weekend with James’ parents, who wanted to see him for his birthday. They’re now in the Three Broomsticks, because that’s what they do—Sirius is nursing a pint, hair up in a bun, sketching out an idea for a mural—they’ve convinced Dumbledore that the third-floor corridor that students insist is haunted by the spirit of a giant, three-headed dog is in need of a rebrand before another generation of first-years gets pranked by being trapped in there and is scarred for life. James has lemonade and is watching Sirius, recounting the many tales of the three-headed dog he heard during his time at Hogwarts, including the one story that claims the spirit is called Fluffy. This is when they see Peter.

Anyone new at The Three Broomsticks sticks out when it’s not a student visit weekend, and this short white guy, his hair and coat and rucksack wet from the rain, is no exception. He looks damp and cold and rather lost and lonely, sitting at a corner table with a drink, so James, being Euphemia and Monty’s son and thus, genetically speaking, destined to be the ultimate mother hen, decides to go over to him and offer to buy him some of Rosmerta’s excellent, and very warming, tomato soup. That’s just what James does, and Sirius is used to it at this point, so they only watch, amused, as James drags the sodden stranger over to join their table.

Introductions are made, and they learn that Peter, who was born in Shropshire, trained to be a nurse in Shropshire, and until very recently, worked in Shropshire, had finally left Shropshire – for good – for Hogsmeade, because his Mum had died earlier that year and he couldn’t stay in the same house. Through the NHS friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend grapevine, he’d ended up finding a job at St. Mungo’s Hospital, a few towns over, and was moving in with a woman he’d only spoken to on the phone, a Lily Evans—she was also a friend-of-a-friend found through the same grapevine, lived further down in Hogsmeade, towards the Hog’s Head, and had recently also started work at St. Mungo’s, and needed someone to split the rent with. In short, Peter explains, draining the very last of the admittedly-incredible tomato soup, everything feels like a bit of a mess, and he would really like to take a nap for about a week.

Aforementioned mother hen, James, is appropriately horrified and sympathetic at Peter’s plight, and declares himself and Sirius Peter’s “official guides” to life in Hogsmeade and settling in.

It’s only a few short months after this – a few months during which Peter hangs out with James and Sirius regularly at The Three Broomsticks, they meet his housemate Lily, and Sirius lets the leavers’ class, slightly dead after all their exams, help paint a giant mural on the third-floor corridor that features a surprisingly-cute three-headed ghost dog, with the Hogwarts crest and the word FLUFFY on its collar – that Sirius hears about The New Teacher.

At this point, they’re kinda used to the disaster that is the state of physics teaching at Hogwarts. It’s early in the summer, and they’re vaguely aware that Flitwick is running interviews again, only because it’s the talk of the staff room and the entire science department have looked like they’re on the verge of breakdown since Moody, or as they call it in the staff room, The Iraqi Plane Incident.

That weekend, though, they run into Flitwick in Gladrags, where Flitwick is searching, as always, for trousers that will fit his small frame, and Flitwick takes one look at them, grins, and says, “Sirius! We found someone! He’s called Lupin, he’s got an actual physics degree, and, consider this, he seems decent!”

And that is the first thing Sirius Black hears about Remus Lupin.

#wolfstar #harry potter #wolfstar au #remus lupin #sirius black #teacher!au #everyone is gay #james potter #peter pettigrew #desi james potter #euphemia potter #fleamont potter #james potter is the ultimate mother hen #lily evans #gay remus lupin #queer sirius black #this au is getting out of hand #repost because typos

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ovmatt-blog · 5 years

Quote

Chapter 3-4. The Final Test

The Shard started exploding, its upper sharp petals blossoming out… I blinked, the Shard was an unblown bud as before. It must have been a trick of the heat – it was abnormally hot for September.

At six a.m. that day, I stepped off the coach’s last footboard and took a deep breath of London air. Having left the carriage, passengers were hurrying to the Tube. Smog-filled morning air was an intoxicating air of freedom for me. Varied smells, unfamiliar and habitual, of vapour and leather trunks, coal tar and cinnamon buns, rubber and expensive scent fragrances – all soared in the air and twined into one bewitching smell of railway station, which excited the passengers and promised to them the fulfilment of their secret wishes and hidden desires…

It was my first time in London, and as I had plenty of time before noon, I hung out in the centre, mingling with the crowds of tourists, gawking at the Eye, Big Ben and the Cucumber. Eating ice-cream, I let the Indian summer sun burn my arms.

I was hiding under the trees and squinting at the sun through the crown of green leaves, sitting on the grass in the park, when somebody said from behind, “I’m homeless!”

I jumped and spun around ready to face a filthy and smelly tramp. Instead, on a yoga mat, sat a guy in a neat business suit, gesturing heavily while talking to somebody invisible. Evidently, he was under constant pressure at work and removed his stress, talking to himself.

“Do you remember? Last April I was placed on a consulting project that required me to be in Edinburgh Monday to Friday every week for six months. Since then I was spending around 18 hours in my apartment in London every 30 days and it cost me over £2,000 a month! I decided to give up my apartment. And I don’t regret –”

I pricked up my ears. Consulting? And this is consultants’ habitual way of life?

He fell silent as if listening to somebody and after several seconds went on, “Because in summer I also didn’t leave in London. All the overtime that I did during the year equalled three months of vacation which I spent in Thailand.”

I twisted my head round. He wasn’t talking to himself? But to whom? And what device did he use?

“I can’t quit! If I leave in the middle of the project, my project manager would blow my brains out!” At that moment he lifted above the grass for an inch, still sitting cross-legged.

My jaw dropped. He’s levitating! Yogi! Illusionist!

Meanwhile the guy burst with anger, “But this nomadic life isn’t so very convenient! I have no place to stay in bed while I’m ill! And I have to store my personal belongings with friends, in my friends’ cars, in the luggage lockers at railway stations. Even my clothes are distributed among dry-cleaners throughout the country for storage…” At this place I stood up and relocated, as I couldn’t stand listening to him anymore…

…At a quarter to twelve I got off at Canary Wharf station and found myself in a world of glass. Reflecting the torrid sun’s rays, the crystal towers rocketed to the sky, higher and higher, their dazzling pearl spears tickling the bellies of fluffy clouds, casting jet shadows down on the stone pavement.

I needn’t have asked the way to Wight Tower. It stood out against the other skyscrapers with its white glass panes without any metallic shine, looking as if it had been enamelled. A few transparent exterior lifts were sliding along its convex smooth side, and white marble stairs, embedded between the lifts, were glittering under the sun, encased in glass.

I bent my head back and started counting the floors as I always did when I saw a skyscraper, “One, two, three, four, five, … , fifty!” Really, it was the tallest building I’d ever seen in my life. When I approached the glass doors, they opened automatically in front of me and let me in.

A gigantic oval lobby, all shining with white mat glass, marble and enamel, was absorbing a huge amount of light. The floor in the centre of its immense space was tiled in twelve concentric circles. I slowly moved across the complex pattern at the floor to the incredibly long crescent-shaped receptionist’s desk, occupied by three gorgeous receptionists. The ten yards high wall behind their backs was spotted with the posh nameplates of the companies that rented offices in the building.

I rapidly scanned the plates– there was only one name beginning with “M”, and it read MAGI. Standing there stunned, I was nearly gasping for air. MAGI! Unbelievable! Absolutely incredible! One of the Big Three! I remembered I had read about it in the Financial Times “…considered to be the most prestigious employer in the management consulting industry.” It couldn’t be true! Though… “MAGI was the first management consultancy to hire recent university graduates, rather than experienced managers.” But I had never graduated from university, still maybe the requirements for interns were different… The clock was ticking, noon was getting close and it was time to put my thinking cap on. I flickered diagonally over the nameplates once again. The names were arranged in alphabetical order, there was no place for mistakes… My heart thumping hard, I swallowed and took several steps forward, choosing the receptionist girl with classic blond updo, dressed in a snow white blouse and grey office jacket.

She looked up when my shadow touched the tips of her fingers, fluttering above the keyboard.

“Hello, I’m Robin Orion, I came to…” I stumbled over the word “MAGI”. I would be making a fool of myself if it turned out I had completely misheard the name of the company. But the girl came to my help, “Do you have a meeting arranged?”

“Yeap, with Cassandra Lime.”

“Interview with MAGI HR, I see. One instant, Mr. Orion.” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Please, head to the lifts and go up to the 50th floor,” the girl took a plastic badge from her desk and handed it to me, “This is a guest card, put it close to the red circle of a turnstile reader. It will turn green and let you through.”

I went past security guards who kept loitering around, evidently having nothing to do. The waist-high glass turnstile gates slid open, letting me in and snapped locked again. Soon I found myself in the lift, crowded with people. I forgot to enter the necessary floor on the panel in the lobby but before I could start worrying about it, the sight of the open world took my breath away. I was like a dove, spreading its wings in flight above London – domes, roofs, globes, glass and stone, smooth glistening water surface… Was I the King of the World at that moment?

“At an OPEC meeting in Vienna, oil ministers decided to remove about 1.8 million barrels per day from the market… Yes, they will extend the cuts in oil output... I suppose, they should do this… When the members of the cartel use their foreign-currency reserves to plug holes in their budgets,” the voice of the oil broker intruded into my fairy flight. The doors imperceptibly opened and closed, letting the brokers, investment bankers and consultants in and out. Curiously, the MAGI office was located on the last floor.

Up, up we went and after we had passed the 45th floor, there remained only two of us in the lift, myself and a short robust fellow – blond-haired, blue-eyed, with a little blush in his cheeks, he was smiling permanently. He drew out of his pocket a striped handkerchief and wiped the droplets of sweat that clung to his forehead. Smiling to me, he asked, “Are you going to the 50th floor?”

“Yeap, to an interview at MAGI,” I answered automatically, all of a sudden having caught the glimpse of a ruby and a small metal ball, spinning slowly in the air near the corner of my eye. But when I turned to get a better look at them, they had vanished.

“What was it?” I asked the blond lad.

He looked to where I was pointing, “What do you mean? I see nothing…” and added, “by the way my name Celestine Clementine, but friends call me Tin-Tin.”

“Robin Orion. Pleased to meet you…”

But we were distracted from discussing flying objects, as the lift doors slid open, revealing to our eyes the white reception area with the MAGI name, designed in golden graceful letters on the wall, flanking the reception and shielded by the thick glass doors.

We knocked on the glass door, making the female receptionist raise her head and press the button at her desk. Glass doors clicked open and we entered. Celestine headed straight to the open-doored room where many young lads and ladies were already sitting in the row of chairs set in semicircles. In front of them was standing an almost bald man, crowned with two clouds of white hair on both sides of his bald patch. Round saucer-like eyes, dimples in his cheeks, a beak-like nose – he was the spitting image of Uncle Goose. He clicked his “beak”, stretched his neck and said, “My name is Mathew Johns, and I am the MAGI Managing director. You were invited to our premises to take the final test…”

I must get this job… I can’t lose it… It is the chance of a lifetime… If I fail to become management consultant…

I looked at my watch. Two minutes past twelve. Feeling really sick I staggered to the reception desk and asked the girl with diamond earrings and impeccable makeup, looking almost invisible, “Excuse me, can you show me where the men's room is? May I use it? I just need to go there.”

She raised her eyebrows and said, “Well, certainly, second on the left down the hall.”

I sprinted down the corridor and burst into the toilet… Soon I was washing my hands under the golden tap, looking in the mirror, foiled with leaves of gold and reflecting the pink marble sink and all the gorgeous luxury of the men’s room, when I heard strange subdued sounds, resembling howls. Hastily I pressed the tap and rushed out of the toilet…

Flakes of ash flew into my face and my breath grew heavy in my lungs as the heat was unbearable… And then my legs became rooted to the ground because a wall of fire was raging in the conference room packed with the candidates! Frightened to death and howling with pain, they were darting past the fire, trying to flee the blazing arms of … the flame ghosts! Grabbing the candidates by their hair, they were pushing them away and then chasing again those darting youngsters, burning their heels, outpacing them…

Unable to move, in deep shock I observed those fiery creatures, their plasma-like faces with distorted violent traits, changing constantly as the fiery waves ran across their bodies and stripes of white, red and orange flames wrung into tight knots at their solar plexus, their beefy torsos – the extensions of the flames. I was in a dream… A fantastic, irrational scene…

The receptionist girls typed on their keyboards, staring at the faint blue glim of the monitors as if nothing was happening. Meanwhile, the candidates were breaking through the fire cordon, elbowing their way to the lobby door which was flanked with MAGI consultants who were throwing pink and yellow soap bubbles, the size of footballs, into the runaways.

One of the consultants, a blond athlete, noticed me and shouted, “Why on earth do you stand there like a frozen statue? Don’t you see we can’t cope with them?” I turned my eyes to him.

“Yeah, you! Come on, come on! Run over here and help us!”

Staggering, I approached him. The athlete hastily shouted instructions to me, “Seize an oblivion sphere and throw it at a runaway! One for each of them! Or they will tell the whole world that they were offered a job at the company, that uses magic in consulting, and that they rejected the offer!”

Tottering woozily on the spot, I snatched a passing bubble and… A fuzzy figure of miniaturized Mathew Johns rose out inside it. I held it to my face and heard him speak in a ghostly voice, “Your result is thirty two marks, while the passing rate is thirty six… You can apply to MAGI again next year…”

Scared, I dropped the sphere and it slightly hit one of the runaways in his head. And in the twinkling of an eye, the fellow broke from a gallop into a trot and reached the exit at a steady pace, though looking a bit depressed. I looked around and noticed that after the bubbles hit their heads, the candidates changed from darting to draggling themselves to the lifts with downcast faces. Well, I could only guess that the soap bubbles were some kind of brainwashing tool.

The blond athlete who had engaged me in this brain-wiping, tapped me on my shoulder, “You must have been one of the summer interns, kid? There were fewer cowards among your fellows. These autumn recruits are more similar to a bunch of snot sprogs than to future Wizards and Fays.” He abruptly turned to the side and cried out, “We’re done, Mathew!” and waved his hand to the Director who nodded in reply…

Everything was finished. The river of multi-coloured soap bubbles was flowing across the white floor, extinguishing the last flamelets. Celestine, his eyebrows and hair singed, was standing in the doors of the conference room with the most stupid expression. It seemed he still hadn’t realized what had happened.

Mathew put his heavy arm on his shoulders and said, looking at me for some reason, “Okay, guys, congratulations on making the right decision and passing the final test! I don’t doubt that joining the ranks of consultants is the start of your great careers at MAGI! I won’t go into detail, but you’re tough. Not being afraid of fiery beasts, that means a lot… Let me shake your hands, lads… Don’t forget that tomorrow you have a meeting with our HR, er, to sort the formalities out…”

The soap bubbles were soaring in the air and the receptionists were turning them into balloons with a wave of the hand. Soon the multitude of pink, golden and silver balloons were squeezing tightly beneath the ceiling and all around the hall. More and more consultants were arriving to the floor, clapping and shouting cheers. Soon, a celebration party was in full swing and Celestine and I were surrounded by a mob of people congratulating us. The din was deafening. From all sides wafted the names of our newly-acquired colleagues: “Colin”, “Isabelle”, “Ray”, “Timothy”! Guys were shaking hands with me and girls were patting me on my arm. Squeezed by the crowd, I stood on tiptoes and twisted my head round, looking for the Apollo-like guy who had helped me so much. But I could not see him.

Crystal glasses were hovering under the balloons and champagne sparkled inside them, frothing up and overflowing the glasses. Mathew raised his glass to us, and everyone shouted to us a triumphant “Cheers to the newcomers!”

Chapter 4. Bilberry Queen

A double-decker bus arrived at the bus stop near Wight Tower and people, dodging from the blasts of wind, streamed inside its warmth. The faces of the passengers were blurred by the rain, trickling down the glass windows, illuminated by the interior light. At last the bus left, leaving me again all alone at the stop. I had been sheltering from the wind behind the glass side of the bus shelter for already an hour, not knowing where to go and slowly freezing.

Cassandra must have confused the dates of the meeting with MAGI HR and, correspondingly, the question of the relocation allowance disbursement remained in the air as unsettled. Consequently right now I was facing a very tricky issue – where to go with five pounds in my pockets. The scenes flickered in my eyes – flick – a railway station, flick – a round-the-clock supermarket, flick – an internet cafe. I could not choose among the options or determine the best one and then the scenes again were flickering in my eyes. I had to spend the night somewhere, as tomorrow I would get the relocation allowance.

You will ask me, why haven’t I slipped off that madhouse which was concealing hind the golden letters of MAGI name? What were they? A secret sect of exotic fanatics and slick illusionists performing neat tricks in the astonished public eye? Or did they really know something beyond ordinary human consciousness? But in fact I didn’t care. I was in need of a job. And I got one. And whatever tricks they were inventing there, it was fine by me…

It was drizzling all the time, the staccato of the rain pattering the water in the puddles and the gusts of wind spilling the puddles from their borders. The dusk was advancing on steadily when a young lad in a grey hooded sweatshirt and a red baseball cap casting a thick shadow over his face, broke my solitude.

We were the only two at the bus shelter, the lad looking now and then at his watch, shifting from one foot to the other. After twenty minutes of waiting he muttered under his breath, “Why, the bus to Norchester must have been cancelled,” and went along the pavement. But then all of a sudden he turned around and said to me, “They have cancelled the last bus to Norchester. Do you have somewhere to go?”

I hesitated for a split second, deciding whether I could confide in the stranger. And then I mumbled, “I am out of money and I have no place to stay.” Then he waved his hand, as if ignoring all my troubles, and said, “You may stay at my house, come along.” And he strode on, showing the way. What should I do? Go with him? Or stay at the stop? His back was moving away. The point of no return soon would be reached… Before he turned round the corner I ran after him…

We walked down the wide street. The flaring neon boards of restaurants, pubs and boutiques glared in my eyes, overflowing the dull light of the streetlamps… Soon, we approached the city park. We passed the park entrance in the form of a white marble arch and the noises of the city faded. Shuffling ankle-deep through the withered leaves, we walked up a long and straight park alley, where bright yellow crowns of maples and pale green tops of oaks arched to shape a tunnel. The wind had gone, and in the utter silence, a bright yellow leaf slipped from a twig and slowly glided down. I watched its flight until it fell to the stones with a slight rustling. The wind returned, swaying the crowns of the trees, rippling the puddles. I looked at the alley – my guide’s back was already far from me, moving off, so I ran to catch up with him.

Brown trunks of fir trees, greenish with age, were rising along both sides of the alley. Their mossy and moist branches tangled, forming fantastic patterns. It seemed that if the trees parted to let us pass, we would behold the castle of Sleeping Beauty in the park’s depth.

While we were advancing, it grew darker and for some strange reason – warmer. The alley narrowed and changed to a country lane, overgrown with brambles that were fringed by brightly glowing dots –fireflies. In their light, I sighted ripe wild strawberries at a moss-grown lettuce glade. I bent forward to pick them and then I caught a glimpse of a smooth white-stone arch, twice the height of a man, standing some fifty yards away from me. The air near the arch rippled, the flashes of invisible flame playing on it, vanishing and appearing again as a reflection in the water.

Taken aback, I turned to my companion and squeezed out in a husky voice, “What is this? Where have you brought me?” He turned to me, and in terror, I observed the rough wrinkled face of a very old man, wrapped in a hooded cloak, his long white hair and white beard hanging down below his waist and his bright eyes blazing under his hood. In a clear voice he replied, “I brought you to my home, to the wonderful country of Elfland, which gives shelter to those who have nowhere to go. The land of the lost, who once left their home and have never returned. The valley of joy, where there is no place for sorrow. Glance through the arch and you will see all with your own eyes…”

With rigid legs I approached the arch. What was its nature and structure? I put my head through and cautiously peeped in.

From the opposite side the arch was standing at a narrow ledge on top of a mountain ridge, near the narrow track, wandering steeply downwards to become untraceable in the distance. From this lookout point I had a magnificent view of a valley, laid out at the foot of the mountain.

The dark green velvet of the grass was spangled with millions of light green fireflies, glittering mysteriously in the utter silence. Amazed, I stared at the enchanting view and then, as if out of the air, human figures started popping up – one by one, in pairs, in groups, wrapped in grass-green cloaks and hoods and holding flaming torches. And soon there were hundreds of torches, and hundreds of fires had been lit by magic. Men were embracing and clapping each other on the backs as if they had not seen each other for ages. The maids threw off their hoods to let loose the waves of blond hair, which fell over their shoulders along their backs to the ground, bound round with circlets of golden leaves.

I noticed among them a maid of such great beauty that my breath was taken away. With dimples in her cheeks, and being so jolly, I at once got an overwhelming desire to touch them with my fingers; a pair of eyes as brilliantly green as water in a clear deep pool, edged by pines, shading and sheltering its green from the sun’s rays that pierce the pond water to the bottom; a smile being as sunny as the star of the most lovely day in a year; and the stature of the most graceful form I had ever seen. She was clad in a tunic of the purest white silk, edged with gold, and from a great flashing jewel in her brow sprung a bright clear jet of pink light. I called her “Greeneye”.

I made out that all the visitors of the valley were very young and of remarkable beauty. They were chatting and laughing merrily and drinking ale and honey, but all lapsed into silence when a very young man with majestic manners in a simple golden hoop, crossing the brow of his remarkably bright face, stood up from his place near the biggest fire, holding a golden harp in his arms.

When he touched the strings of the harp, the golden sounds streamed into the warm night air. Every creature – grass and trees, flowers and leaves, fireflies and butterflies, lads and maids - whirled round and round in the rings under the moonlight upon hearing the music. And then the Harper sang and the words of a song flooded into my soul:

When the day equals night,

Yellow leaves fall and die,

Fire-flies dance in rings,

Blossoms Bilberry tip.

Drink it every ten years,

And Eternity nears,

That who finds the Star of Pink,

Would become Elphyne King.

And the song had such a powerful appeal that I had already raised my foot to step through the arch, when Greeneye looked up straight into my eyes and though she was far in the valley, her voice whispered straight into my ear, “Robin, tomorrow at 8 a.m. you should sign the contract with MAGI in London!”

So unexpected it was that, taken aback, I lost my balance and fell on my back and hit it hard against the ground. The arch vanished. Pitch darkness covered everything, severe north wind swooped on, howling and shrieking and then, at once, dead silence fell. I brought my hand to my eyes and still I could not see it. I was in the deep wood all alone, my senses making out nothing.

Then, as if by magic, the rueful face of the moon showed from behind the clouds and bathed the whole scene in uncertain pallid light... I made out that I was standing in a country lane, bordered by dark mountainous silhouettes of the 100-year-old pines. The cloud obscured the moon’s doleful countenance. And the thick darkness came to reign again.

Were the pines drowsy or did they hide ill-will in their tangles? I was stunned by the silence. And when under the feeble breath of the wind a twig stirred, it rang in my ears. I heard the air, clean and cool… I heard the smell of pines…

I stood still, until my legs grew numb, pondering intensively on the issue of whether to go to the right or to the left… By sheer instinct I turned to the right and set off along the lane. In half a mile the lane turned to an alley, bordered with lampposts, set at equal intervals. Pines changed to firs, towering so close to each other that I could hardly discern anything behind their thick tangles.

Drip-drop. Several drops fell on my lips. It started to rain. Soon huge hail drops were beating hard and cold on my back. The wind raised. Its severe gusts made me halt and turn to it with my back in order to get my breath again. Standing under a lamppost I observed the light spot shift in a strange way at the ground under my feet. I looked up – this was not a lamppost!

Sometimes moments occur that are best forgotten in order that they don’t return in nightmares that would torment you over the rest of your lifetime. This was a moment of that particular kind… A Tyrannosaurus, fifteen feet tall, was sitting at his powerful hind legs, holding his touchingly short fore limbs in front of his chest. Stricken, I made out that instead of a massive head he had a little bright electric lamp, emitting the brightest white radiance. Paralyzed with shock, I stood there, rooted to the spot, and then I turned my neck – it was not the only one! the Tyrannosaurus wasn’t alone! I observed Tyrannosaurus lining up along the alley, their long necks arching above the pavestone, and their bulbed heads shining through the rain. Then, the Tyrannosaurus I was standing under, reared, and the only thing I remembered afterwards was that I ran…

I ran hard, and my yells mingled with the howls of the wind. And then the blizzard swept down upon me. It was the shower of ice needles, pouncing upon me. The snow, raised in waves by the icy blasts of the wind, was covering my bare arms below the short sleeves of my T-shirt. My arms grew numb. The wind was blinding, suffocating. Beaten by the storm, I staggered along the paving stones, trying to breathe. When I was nearly losing the force to move, all of a sudden the strangling gusts of the wind were gone and the snowflakes ceased falling.

I don’t remember for how long I wandered in the chill solitude, but at last the wood thinned out and through the gaps between the firs, approximately a hundred yards away, I made out the roadway! And then in front of my astonished eyes a bus glided by and halted at a stop…

I may confess I had never run so fast in my life, my head squeezed with fear… Fear? Up until that moment I had never known what fear was. But it was gulping my soul.

I remembered how once, returning home from my Granny, who lived in another town, I mistook the bus. My Mum, who was to meet me at the bus stop, waited for me in the darkness, freezing with each passing minute and going over in her mind, what had happened to me and that maybe I would never return home. Her eyes were slowly filling with tears because of her feebleness. Sharp talons of inconsolable despair were tearing at her heart, and still the hope that I would do everything right glimmered in her soul…

Miserable, lost, dispirited a minute ago, now I was breaking through the tangles in a sprint, a spark of hope igniting inside me, though suppressed by the ever-increasing gloom that I would miss this bus. I was swinging my arms and shouting, “Wait, wait!” And as if by a miracle, the bus did not start, but waited obediently for. When I jumped on the running board, the doors shut closed behind me and the bus set out.

It was a moment of pure happiness. When recovering my breath, I doubled over, clutching at the handrail near the driver. He nodded to me and I said, “I got lost in the park or in the wood, we are somewhere in the London suburbs, yeap? How much would it be to get to the Isle of Dogs?”

His eyes almost popped out of his head when he stared at me, “I can give you a lift to the madhouse that you have escaped from, lad – if you wish – but you’d better go and sleep a little. Next stop will be Dublin, in two hours, and we will be in London in the early morning. Take a tip and don’t drink so much while in Ireland."

Really feeling myself drunk, I staggered along the passage and collapsed into the armchair behind the driver…

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 6 years

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Palm Reading + Mandarin | Fostered Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

It’s been *years* since I wrote my last writing update, and seeming as though I have some time to draft this, I thought I’d pop another one your way!

This update is going to cover the writing haps from FOSTERED!

The last FOSTERED update I posted was in October, so here’s a summary of what’s happened in the last few months:

I drafted Palm Reading and Dark Room from October to November

^ And then never wrote anything in December

Literally had a crisis

What’s New

These last few chapters of this book were not happening? I’ve probably drafted a total of four chapters this entire semester because of how little time I have to write, which isn’t fun. I was having a hard time balancing writing for school, and writing for myself, so my book definitely suffered a lil bit.

In terms of plot summary, the squad has been at a cabin in Oregon for the last few weeks. I’ve translated this to literally only two chapters, however, it will physically pain me to keep writing in this setting, so I’m moving on! The first chapter I’ll be updating you on is called Palm Reading.

I mentioned in my last FOSTERED update that this book is currently split into two parts: part one being tentatively titled ‘Children’. PALM READING is the first chapter of part two, and also, the first full chapter at The Cabin. In my last update, I talked about the squad arriving at the cabin. I thought I’d flesh this out more in this update! (Also: I’m hoping to make a 3D model of the cabin in the future--I already have all the blueprints!)

The cabin is owned by Lonan’s (deceased) father, and is now inhabited by Reeve + Lonan’s sister, Christiane, who now goes by Anna. Bad Things happen at this cabin, which is why I’m swinging out early! PALM READING is split into five scenes:

All you have to know: the squad has travelled across the universe to cheer Lonan up because he’s going through some Tough Times. This is, of course, a very bad idea.

Scene A:

This scene is a flashback Reeve recounts of her and her sister as children before their mother’s fancy garden party.

Scene B:

Reeve makes French onion soup for Lonan in an attempt to cheer him up. Her estranged mother, Izzy, tries to help, to no avail.

Tbh, this scene could be cut lol. It’s very short, and not super interesting in my opinion! Though I’m not very fond of this chapter in general.

Scene C:

Lonan doesn't like Reeve’s soup (apparently this whole chapter is just soup?? we should just call it soup???), and dissociates when he encounters Anna’s son. He gets a lil violent and Darren steps in to save ze day (a valiant boi).

Fun fact: I wrote an entire mini story with Lonan and Harrison, recounting the aftermath of this encounter (see more below ;))

Scene D:

Anna and Reeve hang on the porch, and Reeve fantasizes about what her life would be like if her sister was still in her life beyond childhood.

Scene E:

Reeve leaves her sister on the porch and her and Darren have some timezzzzzz.

Fun fact:

This chapter was originally called just PALM before I started writing this update. I wasn’t mega happy with the title, but I like it a lot more as this expansion!

Yo dis chapter the whole alphabet or what?? I’m not particularly happy with it because it’s not cohesive at all?? I found I wrote a ton of tiny lil scenes that didn’t fit together very well, lol. I think if I cut the scene breaks and integrated the chapter into three bigger scenes, this would’ve been a lot more effective. The reason most of these scenes are so tiny, is because I believe I wrote this chapter over a very long period of time. I find if I leave a chapter for too long between breaks, it just isn’t very good since I lose a lot of momentum.

Excerpts:

I’ll share the whole first scene! Not my *favourite* scene but is ok:

Izzy made it clear it was a garden party, even though we didn’t have a garden. She’d rewritten her plans on her toile stationary from Paris, and pinned the leaflets to the fridge so the neighbours would think she looked rich. She bought a red check pinafore from the Goodwill and pretended it was designer. Her panty hose were sheer and black and made her look like an off-brand prostitute.

The neighbours would be in by three. Christiane and I set the table with the good cutlery, and hung Chinese lanterns from the doorways. Izzy lit the tea lights and peeled the carrots over the sink.

Before the guests arrived, Christiane and I played out by the marsh. We hopped puddles and skipped rocks. We practiced our Spanish in ruled notebooks even though Izzy enrolled us in French. We caught crickets and brown-bellied spiders in bug boxes, and ate crackers and deli meat, and the leftover frog legs Izzy bought from the bistro. The Tupperware sweat with chervil and nutmeg. She said, Evie, it tastes just like chicken you know, like that somehow made a difference. Izzy yelled at us for scraping our knees when we got back home. The neighbours are going to think I have savages for children. Do you know how mothers with savages for children look?

She made us wash our hair with castile soap, and pinned it back in matching chignons. She dressed Christiane in a tartan smock, and me in a tunic and skirt. She was twelve, I was ten. Izzy pulled her hair into two Dutch braids, and tied off the ends with bits of ribbon from the Christmas wrapping drawer. Dad came home from work late, and said, Izzy, baby, you’re looking so new age, and she cried and had to reapply her lipstick.

Scene two, three, and four are like, not good, lol, so skipping to scene five!

Scene five gets a lil steamy yeepers--keeping it PG, but just a warning:

You are a system of constellations—all blinking and in order. A life sized Orion, all neon Alnitak, Alnilam, Mintaka.

Putting this in for the Darren Roast (also lol look @ me just switching POVs):

You’re so je ne sais quois, you’re so candied and virgin, you’re so liberal, it hurts. You kiss me like we’re dating, and maybe we are. Maybe I’m your girlfriend, and you’ll take me to Thanksgiving at your mother’s, and your family will love me, and serve me cranberry sauce and tofurkey and kefir from mason jars.

That’s it for PALM READING!

The chapter I wrote after palm reading is called Dark Room. I briefly mentioned it in a vlog I’m compiling, however, I’m skipping out on writing an update on it because a) nothing is really shareable, and b) the content is kind of too difficult to explain/sift through!

The last thing I wanted to share was this lil adventure I wrote in October called Mandarin.

MANDARIN is a short-somethin (story??? i say lightly) following the events of PALM READING, and covers Lonan and Harrison in a tent in the woods. ;) I hesitate to call it a story because it’s more just me being a shit disturber to see what I can mess up in my book in a different point of view. ;)

I can’t remember why I wanted to write this, lol. I think it’s just because I was feeling a lil stressed, and writing with my boys is always very fun. I knew things went very wrong for Lonan at the end of PALM READING, so I wanted to take some time to experiment with what exactly happened that the reader doesn't get to see.

The premise is: Harrison is being *nice* and offers to help Lonan fix his face after Darren comes in like Godzilla for his lil noggin, and things Go Wrong.

(Also: at this point, I’ve written three *shippy* stories with these boyz, and I’ve made it my duty to compile a lil anthology of *ship* and print it out and put it on my shelf. ;))

Excerpts:

I really only included this segment because of this paragraph, not even that I love it, but because Harrison always describes Lonan with such an acute awareness to detail and its soooooooo cuuuuute:

Tangles of dark hair part down Lonan’s scalp, and drift into Harrison’s eyes. It’s getting long, now. He hasn’t had a trim in months. Harrison can measure the days since, like a personal calculator. He’s been paying attention. It’s two inches past his eyes. He hasn’t cut it since April. His skin is white, like the ivory tusks of an elephant, or the swirl of half and half. His eyes marbles of aquamarine, like an expensive China doll. Harrison would import copies and hoard them. Even though he’s bruised around the eyes, the skin puffy, and purple, he’d display him and tell everyone he’s handmade from Russia.

same

Alrighty folks, that’s it for this update! I’m almost finished an update for a new short story, so keep an eye out for that! My semester finishes on Wednesday, so prepare to see me clutterin’ up your feed in the near future!

--Rachel

#fostered #writing #amwriting #writingupdates #writerblr

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carewyncromwell · 4 years

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NEXT PART OF THE “PIRATES AU” GO TIME! For the previous part, click here, or you can also browse the entire tag for this AU here! Featuring in this section, once again, is ma cherie @cursebreakerfarrier’s girl Juliette “Jules” Farrier. <3

x~x~x~x

Carewyn had been glad for the rumbles of thunder and the terrible fog that rolled in that night. She knew Governor Farrier would want to quickly make an example out of Orion, and she needed any excuse she could scrounge up to belay his execution date so that she could figure out a way to get him out that wouldn’t either 1, put him in too much danger, or 2, make her lose her position as Commodore. If she got on the wrong side of the law herself, she’d lose the one advantage she had -- namely, the authority and power needed to keep Orion from harm.

What Carewyn could not have expected was the sound that soon accompanied the rumbles of thunder -- cannon fire.

Port Royal was under attack.

A large ship, nearly the size of the Dauntless that somehow seemed to glide in as quickly and silently as the fog, with a blood-red-stained hull and an intricate “R” chiseled into the left side of its bow came into port, and out of it came a mass of filthy, terrifying pirates all wearing dark red tunics. They held torches, pistols, and cutlasses, and they descended upon the island like a swarm of blood-stained rats.

Carewyn immediately ordered a counterattack. Sending out several battalions to protect the Governor’s mansion and the townspeople, she then stayed behind at the fort to lead her soldiers in an offensive against the ship the pirates had come from. The assault went on for almost an hour, but somehow, no matter how outnumbered the pirates were, their advance toward the fort never seemed to halt -- and somehow their numbers never seemed to dwindle...

In the brig, Orion could see the attack in the distance from the tiny window in the far upper corner of his cell. Anyone who wasn’t part of the Artemis’s crew might’ve hypothesized that these pirates had come after Orion, but Orion knew better. Murphy was far too strategic to just barrel into a busy and well-guarded town like Port Royal, and he and the rest of the crew would’ve never done something so dangerous and destructive, if nothing else, than because they’d know he wouldn’t approve. More importantly...Orion could see they were attacking the fort -- where Carewyn likely was at that very moment.

It was a struggle for Orion to try to keep calm. Whenever he was under a lot of stress -- and, to a lesser extent, whenever cannons were fired around him -- it was always rather difficult for him to find and keep his center. His heart rate would pound way too fast and he’d be unable to breathe fully or steadily and he’d have to hold his own hands in a vain attempt to keep them from shaking.

He had to get up there -- and yet his thoughts and his heartbeat were just too loud and too fast in his head for him to think. At several points the Revenge fired cannon balls right at the brig and smashed down walls, but they never managed to explode in a place Orion could use to bust his way out. He tried to meditate and clear his head -- place his faith in Carewyn, that she’d be safe -- just so that he’d be able to think clearly enough to summon up a means to actually help...but he found himself stuck in a terrible cycle of anxiety he couldn’t break free of.

Center yourself -- center -- Carewyn -- find your center -- balance -- calm -- Carewyn, please -- she’s all right -- center yourself -- no, she’s not -- no, she’s not -- find your center -- breathe --

Orion had good reason to be worried -- for when the pirates reached the fort, they cut down every soldier in their way, all with seemingly little effort. When they arrived, Carewyn also realized who it was that was attacking them.

Carewyn’s blue eyes widened upon the dark red tunics worn by the pirates at the head of the charge.

She knew that uniform only too well. It perfectly explained their ruthlessness -- and worse, despite their clear advantage in numbers, her soldiers were still somehow outmatched...

She dashed over to Percy, who had been firing at the pirates with his rifle, and seized his shoulder.

“Percy -- lead the new recruits in a retreat,” she said urgently.

Percy looked up in alarm. “Retreat? We’re abandoning the fort?”

“I care less about the fort than I do our men’s lives,” Carewyn said fiercely. “Get them out of here -- I’ll cover you.”

“But -- ”

“That’s an order, Lieutenant!” she cut him off sharply. Seeing the conflict and worry in his eyes, she then gave his shoulder a squeeze and said more softly, “I’m counting on you. Look after them.”

Percy couldn’t seem to summon any response. His freckled face was very white and scared. Nonetheless, he eventually managed to swallow back the lump in his throat and give her a fervent nod. He then immediately rushed off to gather the rest of his regiment.

“Fall back! Fall back! Stay together!”

Carewyn couldn’t hide the fear she felt herself as she turned her back on Percy and the other soldiers, unsheathing her sword and strolling leisurely into the throng of red-garbed pirates. They attacked her all at once, and within moments, she was fighting all six of them, ducking their blows and slashing into them with ferocity.

By her own design, the Commodore of Port Royal fought the crew of the pirate ship Revenge completely single-handed.

Not long after the seven pirates had swarmed the fort, they seemed to just as abruptly withdraw. No one knew why until Charlie and Bill -- hotly engaged in fighting a handful of pirates who had been ransacking houses -- caught sight of the red-garbed group who was retreating.

‘That must be the Captain!’ thought Bill.

At the head of the group was an older graying pirate dressed in a black coat much more ornate than the rest of his crew’s and a wide-brimmed red hat, which made him look like a silent, hungry vulture among a sea of red. His face was oddly placid and coolly smiling in response to all the chaos, even as he barked around at the rest of the pirates.

“Enough! Fall back now! We have what we came for!”

There was a roar of raucous delight from the rest of the crew, and they just as quickly flocked to the older man’s side.

Charlie’s eyes narrowed angrily. “No way am I gonna let you all walk off that easily -- !”

Before Bill could stop him, he charged at the group of pirates. One of them -- a female pirate, to Bill’s surprise, with a mane of long dark red curls and very cold almond-shaped blue eyes -- immediately unsheathed her own sword and the two began to fight. At last Charlie managed to stab her in the chest, making her collapse in a heap --

It was when she fell back that Charlie saw what the brown-haired female pirate to the pirate captain’s left was carrying over her shoulder -- the prone form of someone dressed in Navy blue and loosely flying ginger red hair.

“CAREY!” screamed Charlie.

Three other pirates immediately descended on Charlie with their cutlasses, slashing at his chest and his long ponytail. Charlie was soon completely overwhelmed in battle, unable to push past them. He tried to keep Carewyn in sight, but she was disappearing over the horizon --

Bill’s heart leapt into his throat as he chased after the group of pirates, his own sword high. His white robes were torn and covered in blood, but he didn’t care -- he couldn’t let them take Carewyn --

With a roar of fury, he went straight for the woman holding Carewyn. He slashed her shoulder, making her crumple in on herself with an angry cry -- Bill seized the back of Carewyn’s jacket, to pull her away --

“AAAARGH!”

Searing pain wrenched through Bill’s back, and in an instant, he was yanked backward away from Carewyn and thrown to the ground. Blood pooled out of his left side as someone stomped their foot on top of him with such force that he was slammed into the brick.

“ACK!”

“Don’t bother getting up, holy Father,” said a very cold, and yet scalding female voice. “We are demons you cannot defeat.”

Bill gritted his teeth in pain as he struggled to get to his feet.

“No -- “ he choked, his eyes flaring with righteous anger. “No, you -- you can’t have him -- !”

The captain raised his eyebrows in a cruel kind of amusement. “‘Him?’“

The brown-haired woman, who seemed to have completely shaken off the injury Bill had inflicted on her, gave a hard, forced-sounding laugh. The woman on top of Bill pushed down into him harder, making him gasp in pain.

“Heed this warning, boy,” she hissed right in his ear. “Stay away from our flesh and blood, or we’ll happily slash open your flesh and spill your blood in full.”

Her dark red curls had dropped into his line of vision -- Bill’s face contorted with confusion -- wait -- hadn’t Charlie already -- !?

“Stop playing with your food, Pearl,” said a younger, scathing male voice somewhere behind her. “We’ve got what we came for, so let’s leave this hovel behind.”

“Don’t tell me what to -- ”

“Fall back, Pearl,” the captain repeated very coolly. “Let the holy man be. Better that he learn the sting of failure that comes from doing the Lord’s work sooner rather than later.”

Bill made one last valiant attempt to get up, but the woman called Pearl kicked him in the back of the head with the metal heel of her boot and his mind went black.

Port Royal was absolutely devastated by the aftermath of the attack. Not only had their town been largely trashed, but their local hero had been stolen from them by the very pirates she fought single-handedly to give the rest of her soldiers the chance to escape from. All three Weasleys took what had happened very hard, all feeling ashamed and responsible for not having been able to protect Carewyn, who they saw as family to them. Percy immediately put his efforts toward helping the remaining officers put together a search party, but both Bill and Charlie feared that the Navy would never be able to find her. The Revenge was a ship of legends that seemingly appeared in and out of the fog like a ghost and only made berth on an island that supposedly nobody could reach unless they somehow already knew where it was. And given that it was an island inhabited by pirates, it was unlikely to be a place the British Navy could easily find.

Fortunately for the Weasleys, there was another person who was worried about Carewyn and was determined to do whatever had to be done to rescue her -- Jules Farrier. And so she charmed her way into the brig, slipped the watching guards some drugged drinks, and then picked up her skirts so she could dash down the stairs to the lone cell she knew was still inhabited.

Jules found Orion Amari sitting cross-legged in the corner of his cell. His eyes were closed and his hands were clasped in his lap. The wall behind him had been broken open at the top, but the jagged hole wasn’t wide enough for him to slip through.

The Governor’s daughter bent down, grabbing onto one of the wooden bars of his cell so she could look through them at him.

“Captain Amari,” she said urgently.

Orion’s head twitched. Although his expression was as unreadable as ever, his shoulders were tenser than normal as he slowly opened his eyes.

“...Miss Farrier,” he said, sounding far less surprised than he probably was. “I hope your Mr. Weasley is well.”

Jules flushed a little at the mention of “her” Mr. Weasley, but was too focused on the task at hand to care.

“Captain Amari, Carey’s been kidnapped.”

Orion’s expression abruptly tensed. His dark eyes went very wide and he froze up like a deer in the headlights.

“What?” The word came out so quietly and shakily it was like it was only said by a shadow of his actual voice.

“It was the Revenge,” said Jules, as Orion quickly shoved himself across the floor so that he could also grab onto the bars and peek through them at her. “They stormed the fort -- they trashed everything, but didn’t take anything except her. Bill and Charlie tried to stop them, but -- ”

“You can’t fight those men,” Orion cut her off very lowly.

He closed his eyes again -- he was breathing as deeply as he could, as if he were trying to keep his heart rate down.

“...There are tales, about the curse that plagues the Revenge’s crew. Some say they cannot be killed. Some say they’re not even human. Some say that they’re more dead than alive, and yet they walk among us all the same...”

He clasped his hands together, his dark eyebrows knitting together over his eyes.

“Carewyn was able to escape their curse, when she and Jacob fled all those years ago...and knowing Charles Cromwell, he couldn’t stand the thought of any member of his family living free -- of the curse...or of him.”

Jules’s eyes narrowed. Carewyn had never told her much about her grandfather, but considering she was more than experienced dealing with a family member who tried to dictate how she should live her life, she completely understood why Jacob wanted to get himself and his sister away from that.

“The Navy’s sent out search parties, but we all know that they won’t find her quickly. But you care about Carewyn -- she told me she helped you, and that you let her escape. You have a ship and a crew -- and since you’re a pirate, you’d probably be able to find out where the Revenge makes berth, right?”

Orion opened his eyes at last. His gaze upon Jules’s face was very unreadable.

“Finding Carewyn I believe I could manage,” he said levelly, “were I not currently imprisoned.”

Jules’s lips spread into a wry smile as she rose to her feet and reached into her sleeve.

“These might help with that,” she said coolly, dangling the ring of keys off of her pointer finger.

Getting Orion out of his cell was the easy part. Another pair of men had come to take the place of the original guards and found them passed out on the floor, just before they caught sight of Orion and Jules darting around the hall. Soon the bronze bell was clanging, signalling a prison break, and more soldiers arrived. At one point Orion even had to pick Jules up bridal style so they could jump down a set of stairs. Just when it seemed they might get captured, though, who should come to their rescue, but --

“Bill!” breathed Jules in relief.

Bill kicked the last soldier off the wall and whirled around. Orion quickly put Jules down, and Bill immediately swooped down on her, clutching her shoulder and searching her face for injuries.

“Are you hurt? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” said Jules, “but Bill -- what are you -- ?”

Bill gave her a grim smile. “Same reason as you, I reckon.”

His brown eyes flickered over to Orion, narrowing slightly as he straightened up.

“I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you, Amari,” said the priest, “but if Miss Farrier got you out, I imagine she convinced you to help us find out where Charles Cromwell took Carey.”

Orion inclined his head. “I understand that you don’t trust me, Bill Weasley, but rest assured, I don’t want Carewyn in the clutches of Charles Cromwell any more than you do.”

Bill still looked very suspicious; Jules brought a hand onto his arm and gave it a squeeze through the sleeve of his robes.

“Bill, we can trust him. He cares about Carey -- I know she’d trust him, if our places were switched.”

Bill deflated slightly under Jules’s hold. He stared down at her for a long moment; then, with a swallow, he turned back to Orion.

“...Carey never has trusted easily,” he said quietly, “so if you think that’s true, and if you trust him...then I will as well.”

His silent stare seemed to add, ‘For now.’

The three were abruptly startled to attention by the sound of a loud CRASH. They dashed around the corner, to find a large piece of the lowered wooden gate on top of a group of stunned soldiers and another ginger-haired man climbing casually through the hole over to them.

“Charlie?” said Bill, taken aback.

Charlie grinned at Bill and Jules. “Hey, lovebirds! Guess we must’ve had the same idea -- though I’d planned on shaking the bloke down for information, not set him loose...”

He cocked an eyebrow at Orion.

“But oh well -- is he taking us to Carey?”

Orion inclined his head to Charlie like he had Bill, his dark eyes very calm but still narrowed seriously.

“I am returning to the Artemis and aim to go after the Revenge. If you wish to assist me in that, I would be very grateful. If you wish to join me in it, however, it would be far more dangerous -- even more so than what you’ve already done.”

Charlie’s grin grew a bit more cocky. “Look, mate -- Carey is my twin. Not by blood, but she’s my twin all the same. She’s family. There’s no way in Hell I’m not going to help her, if she needs me.”

Bill glanced at Jules. He agreed with Charlie 100%, but Jules going would be very different than either of them. She hadn’t been in the Navy -- she wasn’t trained with a pistol or sword.

Nevertheless Jules looked back at Bill with a perfectly fearless expression.

“Us too,” she said firmly.

Bill’s eyes rippled with emotion around his broadening smile. Juliette Farrier truly was the bravest, most wonderful woman he’d ever met in his life.

Grinning, Charlie turned back to the broken gate.

“Now then, you’d best get those swords out -- there’ll no doubt be a party waiting for us, if we head for any of the docks. I hope your ship’s not too far off, Amari.”

Orion’s dark eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Not at all,” he said levelly. “The Artemis’s best aspect is her ability to hide in plain sight.”

“Good.”

Charlie unsheathed the sword at his side. The heavy iron hilt was beautifully melded into a stylized dragon.

“Never thought I’d get such good use out of this baby, when I made it,” he said with another cheeky grin as he held it aloft.

Orion, Bill, Charlie, and Jules dashed for the northern-most dock. It was largely deserted except for what looked like a single, abandoned ship -- but, as it turned out, that was merely an illusion. Orion Amari apparently had a good friend in Tortuga who specialized in old magics, and after he’d been kind to her, she’d cast a spell on the Artemis that gave it the ability to disguise itself as an innocent-looking merchant ship. Once Orion used the word necessary to remove the illusion, both the Artemis and its crew reappeared, and they made ready to board. As Charlie had predicted, however, a whole slew of soldiers had come to stop them -- among them, the final Weasley brother, Percy, who was the last one left standing after Orion, Charlie, and Bill had taken out the rest of the battalion and Orion had made it on board the Artemis.

Unlike Bill and Charlie, however, Percy refused to trust Orion -- he was a pirate, just like the ones who’d kidnapped Carewyn. He’d kidnapped her himself, even if Carewyn managed to get away. If Bill and Charlie went with him, they’d be labeled as pirates too -- if Jules went, then the Governor would hunt all of them down and probably kill them, just to get her back.

“I know you want to help,” he told his brothers sharply, pointing his pistol at them but only by protocol, “but let the Navy handle this!”

“The Navy can’t find a pirate island!” Charlie shot back impatiently. “Charles Cromwell is ruthless, Perce -- if we dally around waiting for the Navy to find her the ‘upstanding way,’ Carey might be dead by the time we reach her!”

“And if you do this, then you’ll have nothing left to come back to!” said Percy. “You’ll be tarred with Amari’s brush, Charlie -- you and Bill, and Jules -- you’ll be criminals! You’ll have no future, no home -- no chance at a normal life, ever again! You’ll be hunted down like animals! The Navy will hunt you down -- the thing you fought for! The thing we fought for! The thing Carey and I still fight for! Is that what Mum and Dad would want? Ginny, or Ron, or Fred and George? Is that what Carey would want -- you throwing away your entire lives and futures!?”

Percy’s hand holding his pistol was shaking. Bill’s lips came together very tightly.

“Percy,” he said very softly, “we can’t let Carey stay in the clutches of Charles Cromwell. That man slaughtered his own daughter and her husband, all because they wouldn’t bow to his will. Carey was lucky to escape him, when she had the chance. I’m sure she’s known her whole life that he might catch up with her and dreaded that moment every single day...and yet she kept it all to herself, because that’s what Carey does. She takes every knife she can herself, so we don’t have to.”

Jules looked from Bill to Percy, her brown eyes narrowed in determination as she nodded in agreement.

“We can’t leave her, Percy,” she said firmly. “Once Carey’s safe...whatever happens next...we can deal with the consequences.”

Percy stared up at them, his freckles very stark against his deathly pale face. His eyes darted from Charlie to Bill and back.

“Don’t do this,” he whispered.

Charlie stubbornly turned away and strode right up the gangplank onto the Artemis’s deck. He stopped to Orion’s right, but avoided eye contact with anyone on board.

“Charlie -- ” pleaded Percy. “Don’t do this -- think of Mum -- think of us -- ”

Jules headed up the gangplank too, turning back to look at Bill. Bill turned away from Percy.

“Bill -- ” Percy said again. “Don’t -- please -- ”

Bill bowed his head.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Bill!”

Percy’s voice came out as a despair-filled, choked yelp of pain. The sound clearly affected Bill, judging by how he shut his eyes tight. Jules reached out as if to take his hand, but Bill plowed up the gangplank, unable to face anyone, as the gangplank was raised and the Artemis immediately set sail.

Charlie escaped into the rigging and sat in the crow’s nest alone for the next hour. Bill went to the far side of the deck, grabbing onto the railing in a vice grip and hunching over it as he struggled not to cry. Jules came up beside him and, her own eyes full of pain, she rested her head and shoulder against his, desperate to show any support she could.

As much as they all knew they had no other choice, if they wanted to save Carewyn...it didn’t make the schism between the Weasley brothers any less searing and painful.

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