#d.a. paine

[nerds-yearbook]

Darren McGavin portrayed Carl Kolchak for the first time in the TV movie The Night Stalker that premiered on January 11, 1972. The screenplay was written by Sci-Fi legend Richard Matheson based on a story by Jeffrey Grant Rice and Max Hodge. In this movie, he was a reporter in Las Vegas working for Tony Vincenzo (Simon Oakland) and the Daily News (in the Next movie, The Night Strangler, he worked in Seattle for Tony at the Seattle Daily Chronicle, and in the TV show they lived in Chicago and he worked for Tony at the Independent News Service). In this movie, Kolchak found himself investigating a series of murders committed by a vampire. ("The Night Stalker" TV Event)

[the-alan-price-combo]

...Today is my three-year Alan-versary!!!! 🎹✨️🐾 So, I figured I'd redraw some of my favorite Alan expressions from the movie that introduced me to him!

[tacobacoyeet]

Hello! Can I request a harry potter x slytherin reader story where they are in fifth year and the reader has the biggest crush on harry but he likes cho, but one day the reader didn't want to go to any of the D.A meetings anymore because seeing cho and harry broke her heart. But time has passed and Umbringe finds out about the club and like we see it in the movie she makes them writes stuff with that horrible quill and even though the reader didn't go to the meetings anymore she finds herself doing those detention and after one of them harry takes her to the Gryffondor common room and try to heal her hand but she decide to go because having all those contact with him makes her just fall more in love and she doesn't want to because she knows that he likes cho and not her. But after that whole valentines thing (idk if you have read the books) cho and harry do not talk anymore and some weeks after he starts to realise that he actually do not like cho but the reader so he goes talk to her (maybe in the astronomy tower) and tell her about his feelings and they kiss!!

(also like they are best friends and harry is very worried that he did or say something wrong at first or because Ron said stuff like "those slytherin's are just stupid to love that umbringe" so he was probably thinking it was because of that that she don't talk to him any more)

not too late | h.p.

a/n: i can never resist writing for harry. there's not enough love for him on this website.

warnings: harry james potter being just the best as always, a touch angsty, tooth-rottingly fluffy, NOT PROOFREAD!

fifth year at hogwarts had been a whirlwind of chaos, change, and confusion. for you, a slytherin caught in the crossfire of house rivalries and divided loyalties, it was even more complicated. but nothing—nothing—was more consuming than the way your heart clenched every time harry potter smiled.

you didn’t know when the feelings had started. maybe it was in third year when he had smiled at you after you had helped him find a misplaced defense against the dark arts book. or perhaps it was when you partnered together during a potions class last year, and his determination to brew a perfect draught of peace had lit a spark of admiration in your chest.

but this year, that admiration had bloomed into a painful, unreciprocated crush. every glance at him made your stomach flip, and every moment spent together in the d.a. meetings made your heart ache. especially now that cho chang was in the picture.

watching harry laugh with cho, the way he looked at her as if she hung the stars, was unbearable. it felt like a knife twisting deeper each time you saw them together. so one day, you made a decision: you wouldn’t go to the d.a. meetings anymore. you told yourself it was to protect yourself from umbridge’s wrath if the group got caught. but deep down, you knew the real reason.

weeks passed, and you buried yourself in your studies. harry had asked about your absence at first, his emerald eyes filled with concern. “is everything okay? did something happen?” he’d asked after charms one day, his voice tinged with worry.

you had plastered on a smile and waved him off. “just busy with homework. you know how snape is.” he hadn’t pressed further, though you noticed the slight frown that tugged at his lips as you walked away.

but now, you were regretting your decision to distance yourself. despite avoiding the meetings, you weren’t spared from umbridge’s wrath. the moment she got wind of the d.a., she dragged every name associated with it into her office—including yours.

“you may not have attended every meeting,” she had said in her sickly sweet voice, “but you’re still guilty by association.”

that was how you found yourself seated in her dimly lit office, gripping a cursed quill as it carved i must not tell lies into the back of your hand. tears blurred your vision, but you refused to let them fall. you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

when the session was over, you stumbled out of the office, cradling your bleeding hand. harry was waiting for you outside, leaning against the wall with a stormy expression on his face.

“let me see,” he demanded, his voice tight with anger.

“i’m fine,” you lied, hiding your hand behind your back.

“no, you’re not.” his hand shot out, gently but firmly grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand into view. his face darkened as he took in the angry red cuts spelling out the words. without another word, he took your uninjured hand and started leading you toward gryffindor tower.

“harry, what are you doing?” you protested, though you didn’t pull away.

“i’m helping you,” he said simply, his tone brooking no argument.

in the gryffindor common room, he sat you down near the fire, fetched a first aid kit from his dorm, and knelt in front of you. his touch was gentle as he cleaned and bandaged your hand, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“you shouldn’t have been in there,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “this is my fault. i should’ve stopped her before it got this bad.”

“don’t blame yourself,” you said softly, your heart aching at the guilt in his voice. “it’s not your fault.”

he looked up at you then, his green eyes filled with something unreadable. the closeness made your breath hitch. you wanted to reach out, to brush a lock of his hair away from his face, but you didn’t trust yourself. not when every moment with him made you fall even harder.

“i should go,” you said abruptly, standing up.

harry blinked, startled. “what? why?”

you forced a weak smile. “i just… need some air.”

before he could protest, you slipped out of the common room, your heart pounding in your chest.

weeks passed after that night. you avoided harry as much as you could, though it hurt to see the confusion and hurt on his face whenever you brushed him off. valentine’s day came and went, and you heard whispers of harry and cho’s disastrous date. you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him about it, though the rumors suggested they weren’t speaking anymore.

then one evening, as you stood alone in the astronomy tower, gazing out at the stars, you heard footsteps behind you.

“i thought i’d find you here,” harry’s voice said softly.

you turned to see him standing in the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets. his expression was uncertain, almost nervous.

“harry—” you began, but he cut you off.

“why have you been avoiding me?” he asked, stepping closer. “did i do something wrong? if it’s about the d.a. or ron—he didn’t mean what he said about slytherins—”

“it’s not that,” you interrupted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“then what is it?” his voice cracked slightly, and the vulnerability in it broke your resolve.

tears pricked at your eyes as you turned away. “because it hurts, harry,” you admitted. “being around you hurts. you like cho, and every time i see you with her, it’s like a reminder that i’ll never—”

“stop,” he said, his voice firm but gentle.

you felt him step closer until he was right behind you. slowly, you turned to face him, and the look in his eyes stole your breath.

“i thought i liked cho,” he said, his voice low, “but i was wrong. it’s you. it’s always been you.”

your heart stopped. “what?”

“i didn’t realize it at first,” he admitted, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “but these past few weeks, when you weren’t there… i missed you. i wanted to see you, talk to you, make you laugh. i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

his words left you speechless, your mind racing. before you could respond, he reached out, his fingers brushing your cheek.

“is it too late?” he asked quietly.

instead of answering, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his. the kiss was soft and hesitant at first, but it quickly deepened as you poured all your bottled-up emotions into it.

when you finally pulled away, harry rested his forehead against yours, a small, breathless smile on his lips.

“it’s not too late,” you whispered.

for the first time in what felt like forever, your heart felt whole again.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

What does the sorting hat consider to put someone in a house? Like we know it considers their wish but what else? Some theories say that it puts them according to what they value, like Hermione valued bravery more than intelligence and hence gryffindor.

What's your take on it?

I think it's a combination of a few things. It's your traits, values, aspirations, wants (but not in the way most think), and motivations. It's kind of all mixed up together into a sorting.

Like, I think house sorting is just a more complex decision than just traits, so everyone has at least some attributes that fit other houses.

Because of that, usually when I sort characters from other media, I say shit like "Gryffindor with Hufflepuff tendencies" for characters who are Gryffindors, but have certain Hufflepuff traits and behaviors. Or I say "Slytherin with Ravenclaw as the runner-up" for characters who are Slytherins but could also fit in Ravenclaw, and there is one specific character aspect that gives Slytherin the edge.

As I mentioned, I think the sorting hat takes a lot of things into account together, and since we're not a magical sentient hat, I have a small list of the sort of questions I usually ask to get to what I believe a character's core characteristics and values are — and therefore, the sorting the hat would give them.

We'll use the Golden Trio for this example as while they're all Gryffindors, they are not Gryffindors for the same reasons.

Now, traits, are something situational. The same person could behave very differently under different circumstances. Becouse of that, I don't find looking at a list of traits useful to get the actual core traits of a character (which I think is one of the things that goes into sorting). So, instead, I ask questions about character traits under specific circumstances. I find these sorts of questions help get down to the core traits and values that make a character better.

(Also, there are certain traits that fit more than one house. Like determination, which is both Slytherin and Gryffindor, depending on context. Or loyalty, which is both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, depending on context (but can also be Slytherin under some circomstances). Or cleverness, which is both Ravenclaw and Slytherin, depending on context. It's all about how the trait is applied in a given situation, hence why I like my method of thinking about sorting)

1. Problem Solving - what is the go-to method of said character to solve problems in a situation that isn't a life-and-death threat. Both without a time limit and on a time crunch.

And we'll look at our trio:

Harry's go-to is lying and cunning. He lies to Peeves when he catches him he lies to McGonagall when she catches him, he tricks Ron into thinking he drank Felix Felicis, etc. Harry is very cunning and when he needs to problem solve when the threat of death isn't looming over him, even under a time crunch. Harry's response when standing up to defend his friends from Malfoy, is usually all witty remarks and sassy comebacks. When Umbridge forces him to use a blood quill, Harry is too prideful (and spitefull) to show her pain, because that would be losing and her getting what she wants, so he responds by acting indifferent. So for this category, Harry gets two points for Slytherin.

Hermione is interesting in the problem-solving category, when she has time, she likes to plan ahead and research. When Buckpeak is put on trial or she decides she wants to free House Elves, her first stop is the library for research. Hermione comes up with clever magical solutions she researches and then executes like with the D.A. coins and D.A. names scroll jinx. Or she plans schemes of blackmail ahead of time. All this gives a point to Ravenclaw. Her tendency towards blackmail and cheating though, should be noted as a Slytherin point.

However, we see Hermione problem-solving in another way. The Rita Skeeter example. While Rita's threat isn't life-and-death and therefore counted in this category, Hermione had to act on a time crunch. Harry, when put on a time limit, still solves problems with cunning, but Hermione, on a time limit, can't do her usual planning and research, there's no time. So when Hermione needs to solve something fast, she becomes reckless, impulsive, and tends to take big risks. Capturing Rita in a jar is an example of Hermione seeing a chance to deal with Rita and impulsively taking it without thinking ahead much. So Hermione also gets a point to Gryffindor in this category.

Ron's problem-solving methods, when he offers them, are efficient and pragmatic. He's a chess player, and if he has a moment to consider it, he'd come up with a practical, effective, and not necessarily moral solution giving Ron a point toward Slytherin.

Ron also gets a point toward Gryffindor in this category though. The reason is that he often doesn't offer cunning solutions but instead acts immediately without thinking, especially when it comes to defending people he cares about (even when the threat isn't life-threatening). So, while he has the capacity for cunning, he more often than not, doesn't employ it, especially under a time crunch.

2. Problem-solving under threat of death - when the situation gets really dangerous, how do they deal with it?

Luckily, we get plenty of examples with our trio:

Harry here gets points for two houses like Hermione in the last section. In the DoM and even in the Graveyard, Harry is always trying to plan. Trying to find a clever way to get out and to escape. He keeps Lucius talking in the ministry to buy him time to think of a plan. All in all, very Slytherin of him.

But Harry has another thing he does under immense threat, and that's stand up and fight. His resilience is one of his most defining character traits. His ability to stand after being tortured and shout at the Dark Lord that he will not bow. Yes, there's some Slytherin pride there, but it is an act of courage, which gives him a point towards Gryffindor.

Hermione is simpler in this category. When shit is dangerous, she gets brave and impulsive. In OotP, when Umbridge is about to torture Harry, Hermione leads her to Gwamp. It wasn't because she knew what she was doing. She didn't plan it through at all. She just wanted to make sure Harry won't get hurt. She set Snape's robes on fire in first year for the same reason. It was the first thing that came to her mind. Hence, why she gets Gryffindor in this category.

Ron, is also a Gryffindor when shit hits the fan. He is ready to throw himself in front of Bellatrix and Aragog if it means saving Hermione. He stands up on a broken leg to face who he thinks is a crazy murderer who's after Harry. Ron is incredibly brave and impulsive when in danger, giving a point to Gryffindor.

3. What they aspire for - what do they want to accomplish for themselves. Be I an ambition towards a job or something they want to just be better at.

Harry's aspirations are very simple. He wants to be normal, well-liked, but not important. And hopefully, live to adulthood. He wants to be just Harry. He wants to have friends and be safe - all very much Hufflepuff aspirations. He doesn't seek glory the way of a Gryffindor or a Slytherin, so he's getting this point to Hufflepuff.

Hermione's aspirations are more glory-seeking. She wants to be the best at things. She wants to be known as the smartest in the room. Even when it comes to freeing house elves, yes, she feels compassion for them, but she also wants everyone to know she's compassionate. Which pushes her towards Gryffindor and Slytherin. I see her as more of a Gryffindor in this category due to her aspirations being two-fold and motivated by both glory and righteousness.

Ron is a Slytherin when it comes to personal aspirations. He wants personal success and personal glory without any of the righteous veneers Hermione has. He wants to carve a place for himself to feel special and unique and better. We see this in the mirror of Erised in 1st year and in his fits of jealousy throughout the books.

4. Motivations - why do they do the things they do? What gets them up in the morning?

Harry does things out of a sense of duty and responsibility. He saves people because he feels responsible for it. He feels that if he doesn't do it, no one else will. This sense of duty and responsibility is a chivalrous trait and places Harry solidly in Gryffindor for this category.

Hermione does things due to her strong sense of justice. Hermione likes it when things are right and just. This pushes her to either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. In Hermione’s case, though, I'd say it's more a Gryffindor's sense of righteousness and justice rather than a Hufflepuff one due to her not being necessarily interested in "fairness". (She does cheat quite a bit if it's towards a goal she thinks is just. Even if it's just getting Ron on the Quidditch team).

Ron does things out of a sense of loyalty. He isn't going to help someone he doesn't care about, but for the people he does care for, he'd move heaven and earth. This, to me, gives him a point towards Slytherin. Becouse this kind of loyalty that is selective and very unconcerned for people outside the group he's loyal to, is a Slytherin kind of loyalty.

5. Defining trait - if you need to choose one trait to define them, what would it be?

Harry - Resilience. His force of will, ability to survive, and strength to keep going are Harry's most defining traits. This is a Gryffindor trait, giving the lion's house another point.

Hermione - Determination. Hermione does what she thinks is best to achieve her goals. If she needed to study, she'd study, she'd act, she'd do it. But she won't do anything. Hermione, as I mentioned, has a strong sense of justice, and while she can be very feral, I can't see her being willing to kill if there's another way. She is very convinced of her morals, which pushes this determination towards a point for Gryffindor and not Slytherin.

Ron - Loyalty. Ron’s motivations are usually ones of loyalty. His most defining moments are standing up for his friends, and defending Harry, Hermione, and his family to his dying breath if he has to. which is a point for either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. Since Ron's sort of loyalty is, as I said, one that often manifests in protectiveness and disregard for his own safety, I'll give this point to Gryffindor.

6. Valued trait - if they had to pick their favorite trait about themselves, what would they pick?

Harry doesn't really have a favorite trait of his that is his. This is the kid that when Barty/Moody asked him what his strengths are, he said he didn't have any. Harry is way too humble. He has no idea how special, talented, and capable he actually is. This tendency to undersell himself and underestimate himself is one I associate with Hufflepuff.

Hermione, I think, appreciates her bravery more than her intelligence. Yes, she's smart, and she's good at memorizing books, but it isn't what she values most about herself. She doesn't really see it as something noteworthy the way characters in Ravenclaw (like Terry Boot) see it. So, she gets another point to Gryffindor.

Ron, like Harry, has a lot of insecurities (many unwarranted). But Ron does know he has strengths. He knows he's good at chess. He knows he's good at strategy even if he thinks very lowly of himself in other aspects. Which gives him another Slytherin point.

7. Values - what traits do they completely despise in others? What traits do they appreciate in others?

Harry despises authority figures. He chafes under people, telling him what to do. He hates going by the book. He hates bullies who lord themselves over others because they think they're better or know better, and figures like Fudge, Umbridge, and Scrimgoure are just bullies to him. This gives him a point toward Gryffindor.

He appreciates a lot of traits in others, actually. But I'll say he appreciates honesty and friendship more than other things. Someone willing to stand in his corner is what Harry wants the most. So, this gives him another point for Hufflepuff.

Hermione despises unjust people. People who abuse their power, people who are cruel for no reason. People who tell lies for their own personal gain. Which gives a point toward Gryffindor.

In terms of what she appreciates, she appreciates intelligence and competence in authority figures, such as Dumbledore or Lupin. But she also really looks up to Harry's courage, intuition, and righteousness and often sees that as more important. So I give her a point toward Gryffindor.

Ron hates stuck-ups and pretentiousness. We see it a lot, both with Percy, and Hermione in first year. One of the things that makes him like Harry instantly on the train is seeing this super famous, rich kid, who is completely down to earth and normal. This gives Ron a point toward Hufflepuff.

In terms of what he appreciates in others, Ron is repeatedly impressed with Hermione's intelligence and tendency to plan ahead, more than she is for sure. But I think Ron appreciates Hermione's impulsive acts of bravery more. I think Ron really does appreciate bravery, courage, and risk-taking. So I'd give him one point to Ravenclaw and one point to Gryffindor.

8. And finally, which house do they want?

Now, I actually have a bit of an uncommon idea of how this question works. You see, I don't think the hat always listens to what a student wants. I think what a student thinks they want and why just says a lot about their values. In Harry's case, it illustrated that his values align with Gryffindor, but it isn't always the case, and I don't think every student gets what they want in terms of sorting. (Case and point, Neville, who was scared of Gryffindor's reputation and asked not to be there and still got Gryffindor).

Harry asked not to be in Slytherin, he didn't ask to be in Gryffindor. He asked not to be in Slytherin because all he knew of the house was that it was the house of Voldemort and dark wizards and bullies like Draco. Harry's choice of not Slytherin was Harry desperately not wanting to think of himself as evil. It's not what the house stands for, but that's what Harry's request was about. Him asking: "not Slytherin" for the reasons he did, is Harry asking: "let me be good enough". This pushes him towards either Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Except, a Hufflepuff I think wouldn't have asked in this way, before the hat made any indication toward Slytherin, and therefore it is a point to Gryffindor.

Hermione was told Gryffindor is the best. She comes to Hogwarts thinking Gryffindor is where all the heroes and best wizards are at, and she wants to be that. As I mentioned, Hermione does seek personal glory in the aid of others. She wants to be heroic and brave and a savior. This reasoning to ask for Gryffindor is a Gryffindor reasoning, but it's also a Slytherin one. So I gave her points for both.

Ron's entire immediate family are Gryffindors, and he's desperate to fit in with them and not be lesser. He probably begged the hat to be on Gryffindor. Which, actually, is a Gryffindor move. Again, this desire to be more is one that pushes him towards Gryffindor and Slytherin. But when you add to that him begging (something typical Slytherin pride wouldn't allow), it is a Gryffindor point.

Tallying up the score

Harry: G - 5, S - 4, H - 3, R - 0

Hermione: G - 9, S - 2, H - 0, R - 1

Ron: G - 6, S - 4, H - 1, R - 1

With this, I'd call Harry a "Gryffindor with a Slytherin runner-up", Hermione a "true Gryffindor", and Ron a "Gryffindor with Slytherin tendencies".

What I like about this, is that even though I had very different answers for each and a different amount of points per question depending on multiple variables — they are still all Gryffindors. And I really do consider Hermione the "truest Gryffindor" in the trio, so, it didn't really surprise me.

I will note that sometimes I don't really need all these questions, and sometimes I add more questions if I feel I didn't really get to the bottom of a character, but the above 8 questions usually lead me to when thinking about sorting since they tend to get to a person's house well, I think. Like, these are the sorts of questions I think are better to ask than to just look at a list of traits. I think these questions are closer to what the hat is looking for when it comes to sorting too.

[loonybun]

a horrible thought just crossed my mind and i need to speak it into existence now. i’m sorry for the pain it will cause to this hypothetical whumpee /silly

how would Vian react to finding a tiny borrower living in his house?

why would you doom a poor little guy like this. what did borrowers ever do to you.

gonna put a lot of this under the cut because triggering topics!!!! uhmm animal cruelty/testing mention, dehumanization, torture, and death 👍 yeah no this could not end well in any way

AAANYWAYS i think from the get go it would be abundantly clear that Vian is not a safe person to be around/reveal themselves to. Vian experiments on basically whatever he can get his hands on and that often includes rats and things along those lines, which i’ve mentioned a bit before. It’s completely against ethical standards which get very messy really quickly in the D.A. . don’t question it they have some definite “nos” when it comes to experimentation whereas vian has very little. haha. little. see what i d—, but since he can’t really subtly test his drugs on coworkers or their test subjects in their more juvenile phases, he makes do.

If the borrower decided to stay anyways and just kept hidden, suffice to say it would not end well! Vian’s very particular about how and where he keeps everything. He’ll immediately notice if something is out of place or missing. It would become pretty clear to him (even if he’s hesitant to even believe it at first) that something or someone is causing these things. I think after seeing a few tiny bite marks on something he’d put two and two together.

from that point on i think he’d try to lure them out by leaving things in easier places for them to get to. sometimes these spots are very intentional, other times they’re more subtle. I don’t know if he’d set up cameras or anything like that, but knowing him it’s definitely a possibility. I think he’d also set quite a few of those no kill traps typically used for things like mice.

if he ever actually caught a borrower, that’s like it. there’s no way out for them. they’re cooked. not literally he’s not that mean. but like, there’s this small, helpless creature he didn’t even know could exist that he just has at his disposal now. He’s obviously gonna run some tests on them. Maybe try to keep them as calm as possible during the process, though that’s easier said than done when you’re planning on cutting them open. I don’t think this would last very long once he realizes that the biology is almost identical to his anyways, so it doesn’t provide anything incredibly new or exciting. Plus, this is a rarity for him. He’s not wasting them on something as trivial as drug tests. He wants to keep them alive as long as possible. Probably makes a little space for them, like a drawer, completely foolproofs it to make sure they can’t somehow scramble out. he fully recognizes that they’re alive and sentient, but he barley treats them that way. They’re just something for him to dote over and mess with. He’d go out of his way to make sure they knew that he saw them as absolutely nothing more than just some adorable helpless little creature, regardless of how uncomfortable they are with that.

He’ll absolutely get a little violent with them sooner or later. Nothing that he can’t fix, but like. that doesn’t mean it’s gonna hurt any less. Probably would pretty regularly pop their bones out of their sockets and dislocate them, keep them pinned down (literally!) to something for days on end if they say something to set him off, waterboard them, cut off their circulation, all that fun stuff. it’s just so easy and so cathartic to hurt something that small. i personally think one day he’d just. take it too far. and oops. only so much that something can handle. the death probably wouldn’t elicit any strong emotions other than some disappointment, but it’s not like he’s never killed an animal before. little sad considering how irreplaceable they were, but maybe there’s more of them. he can find another.

[fensherohair]

Until The End (Charlie Weasley x Fem Reader) Oneshot

Words: 2.5K Warning: Mentions of Characters' death, injury, and loss. Also On: Quotev, AO3 and Wattpad Note: Originally written around 2011/12 - Edited 2022

The Battle of Hogwarts was raging on around (Y/N). The once great castle she had called home during her teenage years resembled the ruins the outside muggle world saw it to be on a daily basis. The collapsed areas brought a tear to her eye as she remembered her mischievous antics from when she was a student attending the school, how she used her ability as a Metamorphmagi to impersonate professors and ghosts alike, often ending in detention. Even how, in her final year, she had stood by your best friends and helped them rebel against Umbridge, letting her patrons loose in several areas, scaring most who come into contact with it.

(Y/N) was a brave Gryffindor student and a member of the D.A. (Y/N) Black, the daughter of Sirius Black and his school sweetheart, although she had been raised by Remus after her mother had been killed in the First Wizarding War and her father had been sent to Azkaban for a crime he was innocent of. During the battle, she was stationed in one of the many corridors near the moving staircase; (Y/N) could see Fred and Percy nearby, much as she could hear Fred joking about something. George was also close by at the end of the corridor, although he occasionally disappeared when he had the upper hand on whichever Death Eater he fought against. (Y/N) knew others were around somewhere as well, yet unfortunately, she didn’t have time to scan the area as she had her hands full with another Death Eater. (Y/N) knew he was one of the many to escape Azkaban during the two mass breakouts, much like she knew he was a loyal follower of Voldemort. Rodolphus Lestrange.

“I haven’t heard you joke since …..” was the last thing (Y/N) heard before she was forcefully thrown off her feet towards Rodolphus, who seemed just as shocked about the sudden explosion and rubble as she was. Nonetheless, he instantly got to his feet and ran from the scene. Leaving (Y/N) lying on the floor, she expected he would come back eventually, or at least another Death Eater would see her and take their chance to eliminate another who opposed their master. Through her lack of hearing, (Y/N) could about hear someone shouting for another to wake up, yet she couldn't distinguish who it was she could hear, much like (Y/N) couldn’t see much through her blurry vision. The moment she attempted to sit up, (Y/N) felt excruciating, almost torturous pain in her right shoulder. Making attempts to blink away the blurriness so she could get a better look at what was causing such pain, but it did little to help. Soon enough, her hair had changed from its natural (H/C) to the light lavender color to symbolize being hurt or in pain.

“(Y/N),” came the familiar voice of Percy, as hands wrapped themselves around (Y/N)'s midsection as he attempted to pull her to safety. “I’m gonna get the shards from your shoulder, but it's gonna hurt,” calmly spoke the third Weasley brother, (Y/N), who had almost forgotten what he sounded like when he was caring; his cold and Ministry-loving way had almost completely overshadowed it. Just as he said, (Y/N) felt the pain ripple and rip through her shoulder, arm, and neck. She felt as if her veins were on fire as dizziness returned once more. However, her vision began to return a little bit. (Y/N) couldn’t find the will to form words, instead opting to nod in thanks. She didn’t dare look at the wound she had sustained, suspecting her arm would be mangled if the pain was anything to go by. “Look after Fred for me; I’m going after Rookwood, the one who blew out the wall,” added Percy before running off down the hall. (Y/N) watched him go, unable to ask him where the others both cared for were. The only comfort was knowing she wasn't alone; she had Fred, unaware he had been killed in the explosion.

(Y/N) must have been huddled behind the armor for what seemed like hours. The shouts of spells being cast echoed around the corridor, despite that (Y/N) was able to summon the strength needed to move and help those fighting to defend the castle. She wasn’t able to summon the words to cast the spell; all she could do was sit there with Fred, in pain and hope no Death Eater found them to finish off the job they had been so close to succeeding in. (Y/N) soon lent against Fred, almost finding his green jacket interesting as they waited, the fear taking root and grew with every fast-paced and often thunderous footsteps come down the stone corridor.

“I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I, therefore, command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Harry Potter. I now speak directly to you. On this night you have allowed your friends to die for you, there is no greater dishonour. Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman, and child who tries to conceal you from me.” The words echoed around the ruined castle and the grounds, yet this time, there would be no girls screaming out in terror. Instead, there was only silence for what felt like hours. (Y/N) didn’t hear a soul speak a word or even footsteps to indicate someone else was around. Soon enough, the peacefulness was interrupted by familiar voices. One brought happiness to (Y/N) even.

“Percy said they were hidden behind a suit of armor,” uttered Charlie, his voice filled with concern about what he might find. From Percy’s warning, he knew Fred was already gone, and his love was seriously, perhaps even fatally injured; he hoped he was in time to save her even when he knew the pain it would cause if he weren’t. “(Y/N),” spoke the red-haired dragon tamer she'd called your own for so many years. He had spotted her boots and quickly began to struggle to move the armor. Thankfully, Oliver Wood lent a helping hand. The pair of them and Neville stood there for a few seconds before Charlie regained his senses and leaned down to (Y/N), examining the injury to her shoulder and observing the blood pooling around her, his heart already broken to see his younger brother deathly still, cold and with the last smile from his unfinished joke still etched upon his lips. He couldn’t lose you, too; his already broken heart would be shattered beyond repair if (Y/N) left him, much like George would truly be lost if she were to die.

“It's cold,” (Y/N) uttered, looking up to the second son of Molly and Arthur, no longer having feeling in her likely mangled right arm or anywhere around her shoulder; all of it had gone numb at some time ago, although she couldn’t say when. Charlie soon leaned (Y/N) against the wall, blocking her view of Neville and Oliver as they took Fred’s body away, ever more so upon realizing she was none the wise of his fate. Instead, the dragon tamer took his jacket off, gently placing it around her, watching as she snuggled into the warmth it offered. Appearing completely oblivious as to where she was or the concern etched on his features. “Ow!” (Y/N) yelled when Charlie attempted to pull her to her feet; having assessed her injuries, he knew it was far worse than Percy had originally thought.

“Come on (Y/N). Let's get you to the great hall. See if one of the healers can spare a few minutes,” softly spoke Charlie as if he hoped the words to escape his lips would soothe both his growing concerns and looming fears. His memory soon took him for a trip through past events, how the pair had eloped shortly after going into hiding, the dance they shared at Bill and Fleur’s wedding where he had asked you to marry him, even the Quidditch World Cup a few years prior where he had first professed his love for (Y/N) and the Yule Ball that Christmas serving as a lot of firsts, including first dance and kiss. The whimpers of pain to escape (Y/N) brought him more concern, much like he was beginning to hate the rule that no apparition could happen on school grounds. “The others would be happy to see you. George needs you,” whispered the taller redhead as he attempted to get (Y/N) to the Great Hall with as little pain as possible, eventually opting to carry her there to prevent further pain.

Upon walking through the golden doors, Charlie placed (Y/N) back on her own two feet, quickly noticing her lack of balance and how pale she'd gone in the minutes it had taken to get to the hall. Just by looking, anyone could tell (Y/N) had been through hell and back. Her ever-changing hair stuck to your face, as had the dust and dirt from the explosion, and a few scratches scattered her beautiful features, most notably beneath her left eye. Her focus, however, was on those who had been killed during the battle so far, seeing Collin Creevy and Lavender Brown amongst the dead, yet nothing hurt more than seeing Tonks and Remus next to each other, holding hands as they lay motionless on stretchers. Soon enough, her attention was drawn to the rest of the Weasley Clan, Bill, and Fleur looking down in sorrow; Arthur stood nearby with Percy, who at least looked relieved to see you and Charlie. Ginny stood behind Molly, who was leaning on the floor, stroking the hair of one of her twin sons, your heart sinking upon seeing George in tears at the feet of his twin. However, his attention was soon diverted to (Y/N) when Percy pointed in the general direction. Ron was nowhere to be seen, which only caused worry about his whereabouts and well-being.

“I was with him,” whispered (Y/N); Charlie could only look down, knowing she had been unaware she'd essentially been protecting Fred’s body the entire time they were hidden behind the suit of armor. “When did this happen?” she asked as her heart began to break as she tried so hard rack her memory for the answer. George slowly made his way over while Charlie went to get a healer, hoping for the best as he did so. “I was with Fred; when did this happen?” (Y/N) questioned, her hair going light blue to suggest she was upset, hints of the lavender still in there from the pain constantly tormenting her. George could see the obvious confusion, thankful Percy had told him, yet it still broke his heart further to see some he loved in such a way,.

“The wall explosion,” whispered George in response, not daring to speak any louder, knowing if he did, the pain would only grow and strengthen. “He was killed instantly by the rumble,” added the younger of the Weasley twins, watching as it dawned on (Y/N) she had been stowed away with the body of one of her closest friends, his protector against any further harm. “Percy didn’t want to tell you after he saw the injury you had sustained,” finished George as he caught (Y/N) when her knees gave out, the tears staining her dusty cheeks. George was well aware there was little anyone could do to help outside of being there. Just seconds later, Charlie reappeared, sadness in his eyes as he looked upon the one he called wife, knowing there was so much left to do together. There was so much he still wanted to do with her. He still had all the I love you's left to spend on her and his dragons. George quickly realized what the sadness meant and could only look to (Y/N) with a new sense of brokenness, especially when Charlie shook his head to confirm his suspicions. 

“All we can do is make her comfortable,” whispered the elder Weasley as he once again picked (Y/N) up, holding her bridal style. Despite everything, hearing her sweet echoing giggle somehow gave him and George the false hope they needed to believe she would be okay, that she would survive. The same innocent laugh they knew would haunt them for the rest of their lives. The dragon tamer soon sat on the benches to the side of the hall near his family; (Y/N) was resting in his lap with her head against his muscular chest, his arms wrapped around her with one of her hands securely in his, George hugged Ron when he entered the hall. Not daring to speak about what the pain he knew was to come. Bill soon left Fleur’s side to join the pair of you. You were his family, too, the reason his younger brother broke his own vow of never marrying, the reason he spoke of something else other than his dragons.

“When this is over, can we all be a happy family again?” (Y/N) asked with a dazed look in her glazed eyes, not even noticing Hermione appear with concern. All either brother could do was shake their heads to give her the silent answer to her equally wordless question. “The laughter, mischief, love. The never-ending pranks. No war or threat to everything we know and love,” whispered (Y/N). Charlie could only press a soft kiss to the top of her head, his only wish that she would stay with him, yet he knew it wasn’t to be. So, he pulled out his wand, knowing what he was going to do was likely to be his last show of love and affection for his beloved wife.

“Expecto Patronum,” chanted Charlie as he swished his wand, showing his Patronus had changed to match her own. There were tears in his eyes as he saw her smile upon seeing the silvery dragon fly above before disappearing. “It will always be for you (Y/N) until the end,” added the heartbroken Weasley, confessing he wouldn’t love another as he had allowed himself to love her. There wouldn’t be anyone who could ever replace her as his love or soul mate. “Goodbye (Y/N), I know your love will guide us,” cried Charlie as he watched her tangled hair turn from the blue, it had been back to its natural black color for the last time; her body had already limp in his arms. All he could do was refuse to let her go, just holding her in a tight grip, knowing there was nothing he could do to bring his (Y/N) back. “I’ll see you again,” whimpered Charlie as Bill placed a comforting arm around his shoulder, tears of his own staining his cheeks. The toll of the war had come at a heavy price for the Weasley clan; all they could do was hope (Y/N) and Fred’s deaths weren’t in vain, just as he hoped none of those who defended the castle died for nothing.

With Voldermort’s death came the end of the war. The Weasleys huddle together, yet Charlie soon looked around him when he could have sworn he heard your soft voice. “I love you, Charlie, forever.”

Fen's Masterlist

[bloodiest-sicknesses]

Before everything.

Sorry for the long post, this will be alot.

No trigger warnings, I think? If you find any. Please tell me.

So, before joining the RQ community I was a bit. Confused with life. It was hard trying to find somewhere to belong. Proshipping spaces were so… its hard to explain but it felt wrong ish. Then plural spaces, but the negativity was harmful. This community has done so much… though it wasn’t all that good.

The labels, it was all too much. People are amazing, yet I regret what I’ve done to myself. I regret trying to fit in way too well. I regret trying to make myself seem like one when I’m not.

I am radqueer. I am anti contact. Even if others (read: systemates) are pro contact.

Most importantly, I am not going to be active as much anymore.

With everything going on with life, America, and just the world in general, I have made the decision to focus on myself most importantly.

I really like all the friends I’ve made on here, all the followers, everyone who’ve ever interacted with me, but I genuinely just can’t. I just can’t.

But I have to be up front; I lied about being a system. Well, not really, I really am a system, it is just that mainly, I have delusional attachments. I still am a system entirely, but with an entirely smaller headcount than I thought. And due to these D.As, not only has my mental health gotten worse. I am not a system faker, though I am not who I say I am.

I want to apologize, most of all, to @ghosty-dsmp. Genuinely, you are an amazing person and the best person that could ever, ever be in my life. I genuinely appreciate and admire you in the highest way I can. I genuinely hope that life will become the best it could ever be. You truly deserve nothing but happiness and love and appreciation and support.

To @rq-tubz, I too hope your life gets infinitely better. Your so kind and sweet and pleasant to talk to. I you and your system will forever be happy and safe. I hope you will be forever safe and live in happiness for the rest of your life.

I genuinely love this community, but I am only a teen with my life ahead of me. Sometimes, though, it seems like to much. I want to plan for my live, to be happy, to heal from all my trauma and pains, to not be so online that I lose grip of myself.

To everyone who read to the end, thank you. I wish everyone the best life ever and to be safe during these times. Just in case you ever need help, whether you need to ‘borrow’ something, or run away, or just how to live life in general, here is a link to a google doc.

Stay safe everybody <3

[dream-with-a-fever]

Hi! What's your favorite HP book?

HIIIII!!

such a great question. i honestly don’t know if i have a favourite. i love the later books more because they’re more juicy, detailed and longer. i know some people dislike the ootp book because it’s too long or whatever but i personally LOVE it, we get so much good stuff, we a lot more insight into harry’s mental state (my poor boy was going THRU it in this one), more insight into the order, grimmauld place, a great (aka TERRIBLE) villain - actually more than one, the creation of the D.A, the re-introduction of ginny weasley as a BAMF (honestly she is so freakin great in this book), the introduction of luna to the plot (she’s weirder in the books which makes her so much more fun), the flashbacks of the marauders, the prophecy, more about the death eaters etc it’s just So Great.

and i think hbp and dh are both wonderful, but i have such a soft spot for hbp. it’s just so freaking good. it’s got a great plot, you’ve got the slow reveal of voldemort’s backstory happening on one side, the sinister situation they’re now in with people going missing, deaths etc, the aftermath of everything at the ministry and the political landscape, you’ve also got a lot of coming of age in this book. there’s so much teen angst, and juet teenage drama that is just delicious and so needed in a story that is quite dark at first glance. romione and hinny build up is just wonderful, and the reveal of tonks and remus, bill and fleur being hilariously mushy and sweet, ll the quidditch team drama, mcclaggen being a massive pain, harry being this like hot topic in gossip circles but only having eyes for one girl who is ALSO hot topic and a baddie quidditch player, and ofc the drama and shock betrayal / death at the end of the book. just brilliant. i love dh but the hogwarts setting is just so comfy and nice. but yeah sorry that was a ramble!!! i just have so much love for these books and these characters.

[kingoftheclaudes]

Claude Rains Character Masterlist!

Here's a handy-dandy guide of all the wonderful characters Claude Rains has portrayed over a nearly seven decade long career. We encourage all to have a gander at all these invisible men, prefects of police, fathers, criminal masterminds, otherworldly beings, and men of history alike! Each link will take you to a picture of that specific character, so even if you're not familiar with them, you can send in propaganda anyhow (such as 'what a lovely wig!', 'astonishing facial hair!', or even 'such a beautiful hat!'). We also realize that two of these characters share a name - John Stevenson (from The Last Outpost and Strange Holiday, respectively), so when submitting propaganda for these characters, please indicate which one! We will try our best to sort through the submissions regardless!

List is in chronological order, however, we are omitting for reasons explained in the pinned post the characters of Clarkis from Build Thy House and The Mayor from The Pied Piper of Hamelin!

(1933) The Invisible Man - Dr. Jack Griffin/The Invisible Man

(1934) Crime Without Passion - Lee Gentry

(1934) The Man Who Reclaimed His Head - Paul Verin

(1935) The Mystery of Edwin Drood - John Jasper

(1935) The Clairvoyant/The Evil Mind - Maximus

(1935) The Last Outpost - John Stevenson

(1936) Hearts Divided - Napoleon Bonaparte

(1936) Anthony Adverse - Marquis Don Luis

(1937) Stolen Holiday - Stefan Orloff

(1937) The Prince and the Pauper - Earl of Hertford/Edward Seymour

(1937) They Won't Forget - D.A. Andrew 'Andy' J. Griffin

(1938) White Banners - Paul Ward

(1938) Gold Is Where You Find It - Colonel Christopher 'Chris' Ferris

(1938) The Adventures of Robin Hood - Prince John

(1938) Four Daughters - Adam Lemp

(1939) They Made Me a Criminal - Detective Monty Phelan

(1939) Juarez - Emperor Louis Napoleon III

(1939) Sons of Liberty - Haym Salomon

(1939) Daughters Courageous - Jim Masters

(1939) Mr. Smith Goes to Washington - Senator Joseph Harrison Paine

(1939) Four Wives - Adam Lemp

(1940) Saturday's Children - Henry Halevy

(1940) The Sea Hawk - Don José Álvarez de Córdoba

(1940) Lady with Red Hair - David Belasco

(1941) Four Mothers - Adam Lemp

(1941) Here Comes Mr. Jordan - Mr. Jordan

(1941) The Wolf Man - Sir John Talbot

(1942) Kings Row - Dr. Alexander Tower

(1942) Moontide - Nutsy

(1942) Now, Voyager - Dr. Jaquith

(1942) Casablanca - Captain Louis Renault

(1943) Forever and a Day - Ambrose Pomfret

(1943) Phantom of the Opera - Erique Claudin/The Phantom

(1944) Passage to Marseille - Captain Freycinet

(1944) Mr. Skeffington - Job Skeffington

(1945) Strange Holiday - John Stevenson

(1945) This Love of Ours - Joseph Targel

(1945) Caesar and Cleopatra - Julius Caesar

(1946) Notorious - Alexander Sebastian

(1946) Angel on My Shoulder - Nick

(1946) Deception - Alexander Hollenius

(1947) The Unsuspected - Victor Grandison

(1949) The Passionate Friends - Howard Justin

(1949) Rope of Sand - Arthur 'Fred' Martingale

(1949) Song of Surrender - Elisha Hunt

(1950) The White Tower - Paul DeLambre

(1950) Where Danger Lives - Frederick Lannington

(1951) Sealed Cargo - Captain Skalder

(1952) The Man Who Watched the Trains Go By/The Paris Express - Kees Poppinga

(1956) Lisbon - Aristides Mavros

(1959) This Earth is Mine - Phillipe Rambeau

(1960) The Lost World - Professor George Edward Challenger

(1961) Battle of the Worlds - Professor Benson

(1962) Lawrence of Arabia - Mr. Dryden

(1963) Twilight of Honor - Art Harper

(1965) The Greatest Story Ever Told - Herod the Great

[agblack]

A Brief View on my Hogwarts DR (Golden Trio Era)

Disclaimer: I haven't gone there yet, it's all my script. I also like to leave things as much canon compliant as I can. This was the first script for a DR I ever made, and I still change some things all the time. Feel free to comment/ask anything, I love to discuss my DRs and scripts :)

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of Homophobia and Violence (on the Relationships part and the Story part)

♠ Name: Antares Graffias Black (Antares is the brightest star on the Scorpio constellation, and Graffias is the name of a conglomerate of stars on the same constellation)

♠ Age: 20

♠ Birthday: October, 24

♠ Zodiac: Scorpio

♠ Height: 5'8 (176cm)

♠ Appearance: Dark Brown hair, short; brown eyes

♠ Languages: English (British) and French

Where, When and How

My Desired Reality is in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, as in the books.

Hogwarts is a University. Everyone is aged up to match my age. Besides the ages, everything still works the same.

I am in my first year at Hogwarts.

I wake up in my Desired Reality at the beginning of my first year at Hogwarts, in my bedroom at Malfoy’s Manor, the day before we go to Diagon Alley to buy the materials needed.

I am in the same year as Harry Potter.

Things I put in all my scripts

My hair is always good and the way I like it.

My signature scent is chocolate and mint.

I am healthy. I am immune to sickness. I am immune to allergies.

I am immune to death by unnatural means and permanent or major harms. I’m immortal when it comes to diseases, wounds or creatures trying to kill me.

I have a high tolerance for pain.

I am immune to any traumas, physical or emotional, like losing a limb, but not limited to it.

I am immune to getting addicted to anything. 

I am immune to the negative effects of alcohol or any other drugs.

I have energy all day. Even if I wake up early in the morning and go to sleep late at night.

When I go to bed, I sleep fast and well. 

I’m ambidextrous.

I heal faster than others.

I never snore.

I’m resistant to cold weather.

I have a great memory and I can memorize facts easily by just hearing or reading them.

I am very confident.

I’m extremely good at reading people.

I have the same beliefs and principles in my Desired Reality as I already have in my Original Reality.

I have a sharp tongue.

I always know what to buy as gifts for my friends.

I know how to dance properly.

I’m a great singer, although I don’t usually sing in front of people who aren’t close to me.

I can have my favorite foods and drinks every time I want.

I have neat writing.

I know how to properly tie a tie.

I’m a great swimmer.

I’m an incredible writer.

I’m awesome at drawing.

I’m immune to being arrested, unless I’m with Sam and Dean (for the plot).

I’m very sneaky when I want to.

I have great reflexes and keen senses.

I have a good sense of direction.

I’m a great cook.

I have quick thinking.

Sleeping with other people is always comfortable.

Shower is always at the right temperature.

I have a great sense of style.

About Me in this DR

I have a well-toned body.

I heal faster than others.

I am a metamorphmagus.

My eye color changes with my humor. Purple on ordinary days, blue when I’m sad or can’t change (natural color), red for anger, dark red/black for hate, gray for apathy/grief, amber for lust/desire, green for jealousy, pink for happiness. These colors can be brighter or darker depending on the intensity of the emotions. 

I am of pure blood.

My Hogwarts House is Ravenclaw.

I learn how to produce a corporeal patronus in the D.A.

Because of my great memory, I usually do very well in my classes and exams.

I am a master of Occlumency.

I’m immune to Imperio. Cruciatus can’t cause any lasting traumas on me. I’m never hit by Avada Kedavra.

I always recognize products from the Weasleys.

I can see Thestrals because of my parents’ deaths.

I’m unable to talk about shifting, my Original Reality or other realities under the effects of Veritaserum.

I’m a bit overprotective when it comes to my closest friends.

I'm invited into the Slug Club.

I am very talented at flying a broom and at quidditch, especially as a seeker. My skills are almost the same as Harry’s.

I’m a master at Transfiguration and Astronomy, and very talented at the other classes.

Hogwarts is stunning and magical. I know Hogwarts very well, like the back of my hand, and can navigate the halls with ease.

I know every secret passage existing in the castle.

I can always find the Room of Requirement whenever I want to.

I have the ability to solve the riddles to enter Ravenclaw’s common room. Some may take more time than others to solve, but I’ll never have to sleep outside or be late because of it.

I know how to write with a quill.

I can learn spells very fast by just reading about them.

I easily learn how to perform Apparition and Disapparition with success, being really great at it once I learn.

I’m very talented at creating new spells once I know how to do it.

I always have the costume I want for the Halloween party. I also always know what to wear.

I can find books about any subject I want in the library.

The librarian never looks at which book I’m borrowing.

I’m a master in Transfiguration, mastering any spells in this subject with ease, just after a few tries.

I can prepare any potions without much difficulty.

I always know the kind of questions to ask when playing truth or dare.

Me and my friends can bunk off classes without getting in trouble.

I know a spell to get rid of acne.

I can sneak out of my dorm and common room without getting caught.

I can sneak into other houses' common rooms and dorms without getting caught, even if I sleep there. 

Anyone who is with me or going to find me never gets caught.

I’m immune to getting expelled from Hogwarts.

I always know my class schedule.

When me and my friends want to stay alone, we always find a place to do so.

My signature spell is Draconifors (once I learn it).

I’m great at roleplaying.

My Belongings

I always have enough money to buy whatever I want and to live well the rest of my life. This money was left for me by my parents.

Anytime I search for money in my pockets or purses there’ll be enough to pay whatever is needed.

I have a suitcase magically modified. I can go inside it, and there are any clothes, accessories, shoes, cosmetics and whatever I like to wear. It also contains my books, quills and any other materials I may need. Each object category is in a different room inside the case. There’s also a changing room, with mirrors and other useful stuff. I bought the suitcase in Diagon Alley, along with my materials. The wearables, however, just magically appear inside it. The suitcase also makes clothes for other people if I ask it to.

When I’m inside my suitcase, I can make a warning appear above it, saying I’m in it and telling who is reading to press a button to call me.

I can grab specific things I want from the suitcase without having to enter there. I just need to close it and reopen to get the item, like a normal suitcase.

When I don’t know what I want to wear, the suitcase gives me suggestions.

I have my own room at the Malfoy’s Manor, decorated by my own tastes.

I have a digital watch in my Desired Reality that shows me the exact hour and date at my Original Reality.

I have a notebook magically modified to only show its contents when the person reading it says a password. Another password hides the contents. I always know the location of this notebook when I want. I defined its passwords when I first wrote in it, after I bought it in Diagon Alley.

My clothing is always well fitting and flattering.

I have all the shower/hygiene products, cosmetics and sanitary products that I need.

I have a mini-bar both in my dorm and in my room at the manor magically filled with all the drinks and snacks I may want at any given time.

Pet:

Species: Raven

Gender: Male

Name: Atreus

Atreus is immune to death by unnatural means.

Atreus is unable to get harmed.

Atreus is always healthy and well-fed.

Atreus can deliver letters and packages just like owls do.

Atreus lives as long as I do, maybe more.

I have permission to take Atreus with me to Hogwarts.

Wand:

Wood: Hazel

Core: Dragon heartstring

Length: 13”

Flexibility: Unyielding

My wand was specially made as a gift from my uncle, Garrick.

My wand is unbreakable and impossible to lose.

Relationships

Parents: Pollux Black (son of Alphard Black) and Harper Ollivander (sister of Garrick Ollivander).

Siblings: Draco Malfoy (by raising).

Family: Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy (foster parents); Sirius Black (cousin); Garrick Ollivander (uncle); members of the Black and Ollivander families.

Best Friends: Draco Malfoy. Besides him I also found some great friends at Hogwarts, developing really close relationships.

Friends: I found some nice friends at Hogwarts.

S/O: Charlie Weasley

My friends understand my sense of humor and references.

Neville is my partner in all classes we have together.

My love interest is taller than me.

My love interest feels the same way about me as I do about him.

My love interest is immune to death by unnatural means.

My best friends are immune to death by unnatural means.

My friends are immune to death by unnatural means.

Neville quickly became comfortable around me after we met.

My parents died when I was 5 years old, in an accident. After that I was adopted by the Malfoys.

Draco feels like I’m a brother to him, even though I'm in a different House, and trusts me completely.

Lucius feels resented for having to take care of me. 

Narcissa acts like a mother to me, treating me like she treats Draco.

Voldemort has no special interest in me and doesn’t make me work for him as he does with Draco.

Draco loves me as his brother, no matter what happens. We still fight as brothers do, but nothing very serious. We spent some time apart from each other after Lucius’ letters.

My relationship with Lucius and Narcissa is tough, because of my sexuality. We live in a “don’t speak, didn’t happen” kind of situation. But after the Yule Ball things got a lot harder.

Draco and I are the only friends Dobby has at Malfoy’s Manor.

Hermione Granger is a good friend, although we compete in almost everything.

I was always welcome at Malfoy’s Manor, even after I moved out, but I only went there when Draco or Narcissa asked me to, until Voldemort was defeated. After that I went there frequently.

Harry Potter didn’t trust me until after the battle in the Ministry.

Fred and George Weasley never offer me any of their products without telling me what it is.

After our conversation about his condition, Remus Lupin became a paternal figure to me.

Lucius and Narcissa kept leaving me to live in the Manor until I decided to leave, no matter what happened.

My Story and Canon Modifications

1st Year:

I met Neville on the train to Hogwarts in first year, while he was looking for his pet.

During 1st year me and some friends started a Dungeons and Dragons group that worked perfectly and lasted for all school years at least. I am a player. We use magic to change our voices, see the battlemap and other stuff to make the game more fun and immersive.

2nd Year:

I have played quidditch at my house’s team as a seeker since my second year at Hogwarts.

At the start of second year, Charlie Weasley returned to the United Kingdom in order to work at a special field in Hogwarts.

3rd Year: 

I realized professor Lupin was a werewolf after the second full moon of the term. I talked to him about that the following week.

I was with Draco the moment Hermione slapped him in our third year.

4th Year: 

After kissing my partner at the Yule Ball, Lucius sent a Howler to me and a letter to Draco. He says awful stuff in the Howler, and forbids Draco from talking to me.

Because of the letter, I fight with Draco for him following his father's commands blindly and we stop talking to each other.

That same day I go ask Dumbledore to find me a place to stay, insinuating that I know he has contact with Sirius.

After my fight with Draco I asked the Weasley twins to help me in some kind of revenge. I designed a spell to change spoken words, and asked them to perform it on Draco and, if they want, the rest of Slytherin. The spell only works in Hogwarts’ grounds, and the only way to get rid of it is asking someone from other Houses to perform a Finite charm on the victim. The performer must know what words were replaced. I gave the twins my own list of words to replace and they added their own, under a few conditions.

I met Sirius Black at the end of my fourth year, before the beginning of the fifth year at Hogwarts. I heard the stories about his innocence and believed in it.

At the end of my fourth year, I got out of Malfoy’s Manor and went to live with Sirius and Remus, after spending a while at one of my friends’ houses. I have all the money I’ll ever need, left by my parents, in my account on Gringotts. Lucius and Narcissa never took any money from there.

5th Year: 

I became captain of Ravenclaw’s quidditch team in my fifth year.

In fifth year, my friends and I started a band at music class. I’m the lead vocalist.

One of Umbridge's rules as High Inquisitor forbids "any kind of immoral behavior". That basically makes same sex partners stay apart from each other to avoid the risk of being expelled.

I entered Dumbledore’s Army in my fifth year.

After Dumbledore's Army was caught, Draco tried to apologize for his participation, because he didn't know I was a part of the group. We fought again and kept not talking to each other.

In fifth year, I accompanied Neville, Harry and the others to the Ministry of Magic and fought against the Death Eaters.

6th Year: 

When Draco was hit by Sectumsempra, I stood by his side at the hospital wing until he could leave. That caused a massive fight between me and Harry.

7th Year: 

In seventh year, things got almost unbearable, but I managed.

Draco stood by my side in the last battle against Voldemort, and his parents followed his decision. Draco is immune to death by unnatural means.

In the month after the Battle of Hogwarts, the Room of Requirement is perfectly working again.

None of the Weasleys, my friends or anyone I care about dies or gets seriously injured in the battle.

I never knew that Garrick Ollivander was trapped at Malfoy's Manor.

After some time after my last year in Hogwarts, a cure was found for Neville’s parents.

Random Stuff

Hogwarts:

Each dorm has its own bathroom, with a sink, a toilet and a shower. 

The dorms and the common room are sound proof.

Uniforms at Hogwarts are not mandatory in general. Some teachers may require them. Uniforms became mandatory in fifth year, while Umbridge was the headmistress, and again in seventh year, while Snape was the headmaster.

Students are allowed to sit at other Houses’ tables, except for dinner and special events. Most students often prefer to sit with their own Houses.

Professor Lockhart is a joke among Ravenclaw students.

The Dueling Club has been open since my second year.

Every year at Hogwarts, on October 31st, Halloween, there’s a costume party for all students and employees at the castle.

There’s a huge pool in the castle, with warm water. Most students don’t know about it.

There are inter house parties once a month. The House who throws the party changes every time.

One sunday every month a person or group from the music class is chosen to perform at the Great Hall. The same happens during Halloween parties.

Honeydukes do candy-grams at Hogwarts during Valentine’s day.

There’s a second wand store in Hogsmeade.

There’s a form of Veritaserum that’s easy to make and less powerful. Its effects end with the use of a Finite charm.

When I do something that would change the main events that occur in the books, something else happens to keep things on trail. Minor events can be changed by my presence and actions, such as Cho Chang not being Ravenclaw’s seeker.

People are unable to put my name in the Goblet of Fire.

The ghosts never sneak up on me.

I have enough time between classes to enjoy the castle.

I’m never caught in too embarrassing situations.

Anything that’s in the calendar created by me happens as described there. If the same situation is in this script, then it will happen as described here.

Every character looks as described in the books, except when there’s pictures of them in this script. In this case, they look like the pictures. Everyone is a lot prettier and grows up becoming even better each year.

There’s no homophobia or racism in most parts of my Desired Reality. Death Eaters and Voldemort’s sympathizers usually end up being racist, homophobic and etc.

I’m safe from harm, damage or extreme pain.

[falloutboylyricss]

Fall Out Boy and Numbers

note: this post does not include the phrase "no one", ordinal numbers (first, second, third, etc.), or adverbial numbers (once, twice, thrice, etc.)

Evening Out With Your Girlfriend

"Like the oldest movie I ever saw was the one we wrote together" - Honorable Mention

"The only girl who ever gave me the time was the one who only wanted five minutes of mine" - Pretty In Punk

The World's Not Waiting (For Five Tired Boys In A Broken Down Van) (title only)

"Start the van, get me out of this one horse town" - The World's Not Waiting (For Five Tired Boys In A Broken Down Van)

"Excuse me if I'm rude, but I'd rather that we just strike from the record ones I'd see again without you" - Moving Pictures

"'Go to hell' is all I thought for seven weeks, but I grew out of that phase" - Moving Pictures

Take This to Your Grave

"Light that smoke, that one for giving up on me, and one just 'cause they'll kill you sooner than my expectations" - Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today

"This is side one, flip me over" - Dead on Arrival

"In the meantime, I'll sport my brand new fashion of waking up with pants on at four in the afternoon" - Grand Theft Autumn / Where Is Your Boy

"And I'm coasting on potential towards a wall at a hundred miles an hour" - Saturday

"Two more weeks, my foot is in the door" - Saturday

"Tonight I'm writing you a million miles away" - Homesick at Space Camp

"Hating that look that's on your face that says there's another fool like me, there's one born every minute" - Calm Before the Storm

"A failure at everything, eighteen going on extinct" - Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over

From Under The Cork Tree

"It's just past eight, and I'm feeling young and reckless" - Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued

"I'm two quarters and a heart down, and I don't wanna forget how your voice sounds" - Dance, Dance

"I'll be your number one with a bullet" - Sugar, We're Goin' Down

"Don't mind me, I'm watching you two from the closet" - Sugar, We're Goin' Down

"And if you say this makes you happy, then I'm not the only one lying" - Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner

7 Minutes In Heaven (Atavan Halen) (title only)

"I'm sleeping my way out of this one with anyone who'll lie down / I'll be stuck fixated on one star when the world is crashing down" - 7 Minutes In Heaven (Atavan Halen)

"'Oh yeah, you caught me!', but I caught you one worse" - Champagne For My Real Friends, Real Pain For My Sham Friends

A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More "Touch Me" (title only)

"Your secret's out and the best part is it isn't even a good one" - Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part To Save The Scene And Stop Going To Shows)

"From day one, I talked about getting out" - Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part To Save The Scene And Stop Going To Shows)

"Your remorse hasn't fallen on deaf ears, rather ones that just don't care" - My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

Infinity On High

"Cry on the couch, all the poets come to life, fix me in forty-five" - Thriller

"And it's me and my plus one at the afterlife" - Thriller

"Every last time I come home, I take my last chance to burn a bridge or two" - I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You)

"The best way to make it through with hearts and wrists intact is to realize two out of three ain't bad" - I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You)

"And one day we'll get nostalgic for disaster" - Hum Hallelujah

"One foot in your bedroom and one foot out the door" - Hum Hallelujah

"One night and one more time, thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great" - Thnks fr th Mmrs

"One night stand, one night stand off" - Thnks fr th Mmrs

"They say I only think in the form of crunching numbers / In hotel rooms, collecting page six lovers" - Thnks fr th Mmrs

"Take two years and call me when you're better" - The Carpal Tunnel Of Love

"The D.A. is dressed to the nines, in the mirror, he practices all his lines / To his closing argument, twelve hearts beat in favor" - You're Crashing, But You're No Wave

"He glances at his peers sitting seven to twelve stacked on one to six, the gallery is hushed / Boys in three pieces dream of grandstanding and bravado" - You're Crashing, But You're No Wave

"Take one for the team, you all know what I mean" - I've Got All This Ringing In My Ears And None On My Fingers

"I'm the only one who's gonna get away with making excuses today" - It's Hard To Say "I Do", When I Don't

"But the only ring I want buried with me are the ones around my eyes" - It's Hard To Say "I Do", When I Don't

Folie à Deux

"And when the two collide, it's no coincidence the lights are on and everybody's home" - She's My Winona

"Even the young ones become irrelevant, they always bring up how you changed" - She's My Winona

"Down, set, one, hut, hut, hike, media blitz" - America's Suitehearts

"And all I can think of is the way I'm the one who charmed the one who gave up on you" - What A Catch, Donnie

27 (title only)

"Oh, three, two, one, we go live" - Tiffany Blews

"I'm a young one stuck in the thoughts of an old one's head" - w.a.m.s.

20 Dollar Nose Bleed (title only)

"It feels like fourteen carats, but no clarity when I look at the man who would be king" - 20 Dollar Nose Bleed

"Only one book really matters, the rest of the proof is on the television" - 20 Dollar Nose Bleed

"Don't feel bad for the suicidal cats, gotta kill themselves nine times before they get it right" - West Coast Smoker

"Knock once for the father, twice for the son, three times for the Holy Ghost" - West Coast Smoker

"The drums are four on the floor / She's back to the bathroom for one more" - Pavlove

"It's three drinks too late to talk to anyone but myself / It's a three-and-two pitch to walk to anywhere else" - Pavlove

Save Rock And Roll

"One maniac at a time, we will take it back" - The Phoenix

"I don't know where you're going, but do you got room for one more troubled soul?" - Alone Together

"So let's fade away together one dream at a time" - Where Did The Party Go

"I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday" - Just One Yesterday

"Find yourself a new gig, this town ain't big enough for two of us" - Just One Yesterday

"Did you trip down twelve steps into Malibu?" - The Mighty Fall

"But if you ask me, two's a whole lot lonelier than one" - The Mighty Fall

"I know I'm the one you want to forget" - Miss Missing You

"She's his suicide blonde, she's number than gold" - Rat A Tat

"Are you ready for another bad poem? One more off-key anthem" - Rat A Tat

"But I'll take your heart served up two ways" - Rat A Tat

PAX AM Days

"Our days were never numbered, this is eternal summer" - Eternal Summer

"I have three drinks before I even start to count" - Caffeine Cold

American Beauty/American Psycho

"And this one might be a battle, might not turn out okay" - Irresistible

"You know I give my love a f-f-four letter name" - Irresistible

"And just one mistake is all it will take" - Centuries

"The blood of the lamb is worth two lions, but here I am" - Uma Thurman

"I'm the last one that you'll ever remember / And I'm trying to find my peace of mind behind these two white highway lines" - Jet Pack Blues

"I say, one day the valley's gonna swallow me whole" - Novocaine

"My nine to five is cutting open old scars again and again 'til I'm stuck in your head" - Fourth Of July

MANIA

"I'm here in search of your glory, there's been a million before me / That ultra kind of love you never walk away from, you're just the last of the real ones" - The Last Of The Real Ones

"Just tell me, tell me, tell me I, I am the only one, even if it's not true, even if it's not true" - The Last Of The Real Ones

"You were the only one that even kinda came close" - HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON'T

"One look from you and I'm on that faded love" - Heaven's Gate

"You're the one habit I just can't kick" - Heaven's Gate

So Much (For) Stardust

"Thaw out my freezer burn feelings for twenty summers" - Hold Me Like a Grudge

"6 AM, Mulholland Drive, Moonlight Sonata and I" - Heaven, Iowa

"I carved out a place in this world for two, but it's empty without you" - Flu Game

"One day, every candle's gotta run out of wax / One day, no one will remember me when they look back" - Flu Game

"Orange leaves, but we're the ones falling off trees / The first time I took the mask off, just had another one on underneath" - Baby Annihilation

"I spent ten years, ten years in a bit of chemical haze" - The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years)

"It breaks your heart, but four of the Ramones are dead" - The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years)

"Sometimes, you wonder if we're ever looking back at a picture of 2019" - What a Time To Be Alive

Misc.

"One awkward silence and two hopes you cry yourself to sleep staying up waiting by the phone" - Yule Shoot Your Eye Out

"You're the one true thing, you're the one" - City In A Garden

"Another trip around the sun, it was a good one" - Dear Future Self (Hands Up)

"I know this one for a fact, my phone, they got it on tap" - Dear Future Self (Hands Up)

"Fyre Fest, Black Parade, Michael Phelps, Y2K" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"Michael Jordan, 23, YouTube killed MTV" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"Michael Jordan, 45, Woodstock '99" - We Didn't Start The Fire

[koffeesfancy]

Defend Ch. 1 | Bodyguard!AU | Koffee x Reader

Summary: You're a district attorney that has been placed under 24/7 security during the investigation of a prominent member of a local gang. You believe the whole situation is blown out of proportion and resent the imperious woman you are entrusted to. Partly due to her teasing, cocky nature, you struggle to take the short-statured woman seriously. Eventually, you not only find yourself seeking her protection but also solace in her company.

Genre: Slow-burn romance, fluff, angst

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2241

A/N: I really appreciate any engagement such as likes and reposts. I particularly would be grateful if you all could provide feedback. Like for this writing, I experimented with Mikayla's character codeswitching in-between an American and Jamaican accent. Maybe just let me know what you think about that or anything else you read. Love <3

"You know it's not too late to call this whole thing off," you mumble in a sing-songy voice. If Oje Ollivierre, the state attorney, heard you it was not obvious. He stood in the full length mirror of his executive office looking over his suit- an unusual plum colored ensemble amidst his habit of all black and occasionally navy blue. His assistant, Daniel, looked up from his spot on the floor straightening the man's pants cuffs to give you a pointed look of pity.

"Daniel, don't you think this purple is a bit..." Oje began.

"Tacky?" you chimed in.

"Assuming..." Oje murmured, raising his eyes in the mirror to meet your gaze. Daniel blankly nodded in agreement. You gave a nervous dry chuckle to stifle your shiver. The air froze in painful tension as no one laughed. You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth in a wince, eyes rolling off into another direction.

"I will offset the forwardness with my black double breasted blazer and the Explorer instead of the Yacht Master," the state attorney added. He unclasped his Rolex and his assistant received it with delicacy and scampered off to the adjoining coat room to do as he said.

"You know, Ollivierre, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I've been meaning to apologize about the whole crab dip thing ever since my election celebration, but you know I got wrapped up in this whole Thomas case right after-" you rambled.

The state attorney raised his large, well-manicured hand before turning around. He pushed his long dark brown locs off his shoulder, took off his glasses, and reached in his blazer pocket for a handkerchief in one fluid motion.

"It has been four months since you were elected," he stated with clear disinterest while rubbing the Tom Ford frames spot-free. There was something particularly disarming about his hooded brown eyes. As if to pin you in place, he stared directly in your face for the first time since you had entered his office. "Did you come all the way to the capitol to humor me about a nearly half-year old dry cleaning snafu?"

You lowered your gaze to your kitten heels, shaking your head in a defeated no. "Well sir, I was... uh.. well, I actually came today because- well, I was wondering if I could maybe, uh, get some maybe, uh, some space with the whole bodyguard thing perhaps... please?" you churned out nervously. Your palms greased with sweat.

Daniel entered the office again carefully carrying a black blazer and jewelry box like a soldier in a flag folding ceremony. He helped the state attorney shrug out of his plum jacket and set it aside neatly.

"No," Oje stated directly, lifting his arms to have the new suit lint rolled. Daniel shot you a look of sympathy from under his long limbs. You began to stutter out a rebuttal when he continued. "You know, I was initially quite supportive of your campaign for district attorney. And I was honored that our state not only became home to the highest percent of female district attorneys per capita, but also the youngest D.A. in American history," he lamented. He strained his long neck as Daniel adjusted his tie.

"Furthermore, I was stunned by how our constituents were progressive enough to elect someone with such..." he drawled, pausing for thought.

"Moxy?" you chimed in, expectantly.

"Naivete..." he continued. You let out a nervous chuckle, hoping to cut the tension in the air. Nobody laughed. "It is certainly not to my pleasure that you are working such a high-profile case a few months into your term, but I will not have you killed by the mafia nonetheless. O'neil Thomas is a long time enemy of the state and it is only a matter of when not if his thugs will retaliate for the investigation. You will need to be under protection until we feel that the threat has been eliminated. This is not up for debate. Any questions D.A.?" he remarked plainly. You quietly kissed your teeth before muttering a barely audible no sir and turning on your heel to leave.

"Since you are already here, I had your security report directly for duty. So they should be waiting at the check-in" he called out, flicking his hand to shoo Daniel away from fretting at his clothes anymore. "Oh, and one more thing before you go, D.A."

You stand by the door tapping your foot nervously. Oje steps over to his desk and scribbles on a post-it before handing it to his assistant. Daniel takes it with two hands and walks to the door, offering it to you with one. It reads a 4 digit number. You raise an eyebrow to Oje quizzically.

He turns back to the mirror to admire his change of costume, adding in a bored tone, "That is the amount needed to replace the dress shirt from your... crab dip thing. You may inquire at the desk for the routing and account number."

"Look at me, I'm the state attorney and I don't even know my head from my own ass, blah blah blah," you mocked in an inaccurately high-pitched voice as you rounded the corner, holding another post-it from the front desk reading the aforementioned banking numbers. You toed across the lobby to alleviate the pain in your feet from the ill-fitting, cheap heels you’d worn. Were it not for student loans and random expenses like replacing $3000 crab dip stained shirts for your boss, you’d maybe be able to afford some shoes that didn’t require a tight-rope routine to walk comfortably. As you began to lose yourself in your lamentful thoughts, you took a misstep and felt your toes turn at an odd angle- twisting your ankle and throwing you off balance. 

As you expected to meet the cold floor in the lobby (a very fitting humiliation to match the other ones from today), you felt a strong grip on your arm and were yanked upright. You stood awkwardly in the lobby for a moment, knees still bent and braced in preparation for a spill. You blinked and turned your neck left and right in confusion. Business attired people walk to and fro in all directions without paying you mind. 

“I see why dem hire mi,” you heard from a firm, yet taunting lilt from behind you. You quickly turned around to match a face to the voice, only to be met by the tail end of a blur. You made a sound of confusion and frustration, turning only for the figure to shift out of the corner of your eye again.

“Look, whoever you are, you better find someone else to play with. I’m the distri-” you started in annoyance. 

“District attorney. Yes, yuh di district attorney who a daydream when she walk, but think she cyaah defend herself against a mafia ah drug traffickers an' hitmen,” the voice chuckled, an accent emerging. Before you could lash out, the figure stepped from behind to stand in front of you. 

The noise that arose from your throat was akin to an animalistic choke- and obviously one of clear disregard. The person in front of you raised an eyebrow in a look of equal disbelief towards your reaction. She was caramel-skinned with an oval face sculpted by plump cheeks, a button nose, and a sharp jaw. Her inquisitive eyes were rather large, slightly upturned like a cat’s, and a deep warm brown hue. Her dark chocolate dreadlocks shared the same color as her thick eyebrows and were tied up in a haphazard bun with a few strands straying down her face. She wore all black fatigues that contrasted against the diamond studs in her ears. 

Most shockingly of all, the strange woman could not have been taller than 5 feet flat. When you gathered yourself enough to recollect the events of the past few seconds, you broke out in an uncontrollable laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. You failed to straighten your back and just sunk lower as you let the laughs shake throughout your body. The woman stood over you unamused. 

“So, it’s you, huh?” you ask, wiping away the tears at the corner of your eyes, adding sarcastically, “The one who will defend me against imminent danger.” 

“Lieutenant Colonel Mikayla Simpson of Jamaica Regiment’s Sixth Infantry Battalion- honorably discharged,” she spoke, extending her hand to take. You straightened and enveloped it in your larger one, pleasantly surprised by how soft and warm it was. Her widening smile revealed a mouth full of silver braces.

“Aren’t you like twelve?” you snorted. The soft grasp on your hand turned into a vice-like clench, crushing bones you didn’t even know existed.

“I’ll do my best fi protect yuh, ma'am.” she spoke through the gritted teeth of her grin, before loosening the grip. You could’ve sworn you caught a flash of something crazy in her eyes. Was that some sort of threat? You rubbed your hand, still wincing from the vice-like grip, and watched Mikayla adjust the sleeves of her black softshell jacket. Her composed demeanor only irritated you further.

"Let's just get this over with," you muttered, trying to mask your embarrassment and irritation. She gave a curt nod and gestured toward the elevator to the parking garage.

The walk to the car was filled with an awkward silence, punctuated only by the sound of your heels clicking on the pavement and the occasional car passing by. You couldn't resist a few more digs, hoping to get a reaction out of the woman.

"So, do you always sneak up on people like that, or is it just your charming way of making a first impression?" you asked, feigning casual curiosity.

Mikayla didn't even break her stride. "If you'd been paying attention, you would have noticed me. Situational awareness is crucial, especially in your position."

You rolled your eyes. "Great, another lecture. Just what I needed."

You clicked the fob on the keys assigned to you that morning when you had been informed of the new security measures. You marched to the vehicle, your frustration mounting as you remembered you left your comfy driving moccasins in your own car which you were forbidden from driving until ‘this all blows over’. Mikayla stood there, arms crossed, waiting patiently. You couldn't help but feel like a child being watched by a stern teacher.

"I hope you know this is completely unnecessary," you grumbled as you unlocked the car. "I can take care of myself."

Mikayla raised an eyebrow. "Well, yuh track record seh different." You glared at her, but before you could retort, she had already slipped into the passenger seat, much to your displeasure. You sank into the driver's seat with a sigh, starting the engine and resting your head on the steering wheel for a long pause.

"Where to?" you finally asked, breaking the silence. The car was quiet for a few more seconds, the tension thick in the air. You focused on the dashboard, trying to disassociate from the presence of your unwelcome passenger.

"We're going to a secured location outside the city. I’ll provide you with directions," Mikayla replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.

You gripped the steering wheel tighter. "I need to stop by my place first. I have things I need to pick up."

"That's not possible," Mikayla said firmly. "We already arrange fi yuh essentials fi get tek care of. We can't risk yuh safety, ma’am."

You let out a frustrated groan. "This is ridiculous! I can't just be whisked away without any of my stuff."

Mikayla's expression softened slightly, though her resolve remained firm. "I understand this is difficult, but it's for yuh own safety. Everything you need will be provided."

You knew she was right, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. You pressed your lips together in a thin line, trying to hold back your frustration as you drove in silence minus the occasional noise of her giving you directions. Your own city was almost two hours away from the capitol and the mystery location was even further west.

Finally, you arrived at an unmarked, inconspicuous single-family farmhouse down a dirt road from the interstate. Mikayla directed you to a flat patch in the grass for parking and you both exited the car.

"This is where we'll be staying?" you asked, looking up at the residence with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. You toed around the side to see a nice thicket of forest. 

Mikayla called after you, "Yes, it's a secure facility. Try nuh fi get lost, mi nuh want fi haffi rescue yuh two times inna one day.”

You rolled your eyes and followed behind her as she went to unlock the door. Your mind raced with thoughts of what lay ahead. The reality of your situation was sinking in, and you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in your chest.

As you stepped into the entrance, you cowered behind Mikayla, who walked into the darkness with an effortlessly confident posture. Despite your initial annoyance, you couldn't help but feel a small measure of relief knowing she was on the clock and legally binded to kill any spiders or whatever lay in the abyss of the mysterious house. 

"Let's hope this is worth it," you muttered under your breath as the doors closed behind you, sealing you both inside.

Table of contents

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[reasoningdaily]

At age 17, Donnell Drinks was one of many young men in Philadelphia who went to prison for life without parole. Today, the city has resentenced more of those prisoners than any other jurisdiction.

Published Aug. 15, 2023Updated Aug. 18, 2023

Donnell Drinks woke up one morning to banging on his door in the projects of North Philadelphia. It was the late 1980s, and Mr. Drinks, who was 15 and the oldest of three boys, had nodded off after taking his youngest brother to school. He should have been at school himself, but he had stopped going earlier that year. It wasn’t a truant officer at his door, though — no one had ever come knocking about that. Instead, sheriff’s deputies were waiting outside. They were there to evict his family.

The officers told him to get out, not bothering to ask if there was an adult around, which there wasn’t. Mr. Drinks’s dad had abandoned the family a decade earlier, and his mom was in the throes of crack cocaine addiction. For years, Mr. Drinks had been raising his younger brothers, and he had just become a father himself. He’d dropped out of school to support his family by selling drugs, a transition that felt so natural he hardly remembered how it happened.

Groggy and panicked, Mr. Drinks scanned the apartment for essentials, stuffed a shopping cart with clothes for his brothers and wheeled the cart up the road to his grandmother’s overcrowded rowhouse. The officers never asked where he was going.

“There was not one adult that said, Hold a minute. We need to call somebody,” Mr. Drinks said. “Not one adult said, That’s a child.”

At the time, Black teenage boys like Mr. Drinks were being treated less as children in need of help and more as if they were threats to society itself. Crime was rising nationwide, particularly in Philadelphia, where, in 1990, the city recorded 500 murders in a year for the first time. It was a terrifying period, especially for people living in poorer neighborhoods where the violence was worst. But the rhetoric, perpetuated by public officials and overheated headlines, suggested that a new morally depraved generation of teenagers — particularly Black teenagers — were to blame. This idea gave rise to the “superpredator” era and a raft of laws cracking down on juveniles that followed.

Mr. Drinks, now 50 years old, is a small man with a stocky frame and a warm, gaptoothed smile. He keeps his salt-and-pepper beard meticulously fluffed. An animated storyteller who is quick with a metaphor and a motivational quote, he becomes guarded when describing his upbringing — not just because it’s painful, but because he doesn’t want anyone to think he’s trying to justify what happened next. “This is context,” he said, “not excuses.”

In February 1991, when he was 17, Mr. Drinks and his 22-year-old girlfriend, who was a police officer, tried to rob a man named Darryl Huntley. They staked out Mr. Huntley’s house and forced him and his fiancée inside at gunpoint. That violent act led to others. Mr. Drinks stabbed Mr. Huntley, fatally, and was shot himself. Mr. Drinks was arrested while he was in the hospital recovering from his injuries.

By the time Mr. Drinks was brought to trial for Mr. Huntley’s murder, Philadelphia had a new district attorney: Lynne Abraham, a former judge who went on to hold the office for nearly two decades. Pennsylvania law already made life sentences mandatory for first- and second-degree murder convictions, but Ms. Abraham responded to the era’s surge in violent crime by aggressively pursuing the death penalty, an approach that once earned her the moniker the “deadliest D.A.”

She also called for tougher punishments for juveniles. In 1994, she pushed for legislative changes to give prosecutors more power to charge juveniles as adults. “You don’t get any bonus for being under a certain age,” she told The Philadelphia Inquirer at the time. The next year, the state passed a law that required prosecutors to treat children 15 and older as adults when they were charged with certain crimes.

Though Philadelphia had already sentenced many young people to life without parole, under Ms. Abraham’s watch — and with the city’s murder rate remaining high throughout the ‘90s — the number getting that sentence in Philadelphia rose quickly. For some, it may have been a deal worth taking to avoid the death penalty.

Mr. Drinks was tried as an adult and initially sentenced to death. In 1993, his sentence was reduced to life without parole. (His then-girlfriend, who received the same sentence, remains in prison.)

He most likely would have died in prison, but while Mr. Drinks was behind bars, a national effort began to rethink the culpability of young people in the eyes of the law. In the 2005 case Roper v. Simmons, the Supreme Court struck down the death penalty for minors, leaning heavily on new scientific research that showed — “as any parent knows,” Justice Anthony Kennedy wrote — that young people are not like adults. They are more impulsive, reckless and susceptible to persuasion.

The court did not question that minors should pay for committing heinous crimes, but in banning the most severe punishment, it affirmed the possibility “that a minor’s character deficiencies will be reformed.” Real change, Justice Kennedy suggested, was possible.

Mr. Drinks had been in prison for more than a decade when the Roper decision came out. Then one day, a Philadelphia lawyer named Bradley Bridge traveled to the upstate Pennsylvania prison where Mr. Drinks was locked up, and explained to him and the other men who had been given life sentences as boys what the ruling could mean for them.

Striking down the death penalty for minors was only the beginning, Mr. Bridge said. Soon, he predicted, the court would apply the same logic to outlaw mandatory life sentences for juveniles too, potentially giving Mr. Drinks and others serving such sentences a shot at freedom — and giving the city of Philadelphia a chance to rewrite its legacy.

A long list of friends

Mr. Bridge had been delivering his speech inside prisons throughout Pennsylvania for months before Mr. Drinks heard him speak. Mr. Bridge worked for the Defender Association of Philadelphia and had spent nearly three decades representing prisoners who were appealing their sentences. When the Roper ruling came down, he was involved in the case of a teenager facing a mandatory sentence of life without parole. He understood immediately the opportunity that the Supreme Court’s ruling presented not just for his client, but for scores of prisoners.

For Mr. Bridge, it meant pursuing a novel legal theory that might help dismantle what he viewed as a particularly unjust part of the justice system. “Children are children, and they make mistakes,” Mr. Bridge said. “But they grow and change.”

Mr. Bridge began the enormous undertaking of compiling a list of all the prisoners in Pennsylvania who were sentenced to life as minors. No one in the state had ever kept track of this group, who came to be called “juvenile lifers” in the courts and “child lifers” by some of the inmates themselves.

He expected the list to be long. He didn’t expect it to eventually include more than 500 names, nearly one-fifth of the more than 2,800 child lifers in the country. More than 300 of them had come through Philadelphia’s system, making a city with less than 1 percent of the country’s population responsible for more than 10 percent of all children sentenced to life in prison without parole in the United States. No other city compared. Even more glaring: More than 80 percent of Philadelphia’s child lifers were Black. Nationally, that figure was roughly 60 percent.

Racism “undoubtedly occurred in every phase of the criminal justice system,” Mr. Bridge said. “This created an opportunity to try to fix things that had been broken.”

After the Supreme Court outlawed the death penalty for minors, Bradley Bridge started encouraging inmates sentenced to life as children to prepare for the possibility that the court would eventually revisit the constitutionality of their sentences, too.

His partner in this work was Marsha Levick, who had co-founded the Juvenile Law Center in 1975 as an idealistic young graduate of Temple University’s law school and gone on to become one of the nation’s foremost experts on juvenile sentencing.

Mr. Bridge and Ms. Levick began traveling the state, arranging meetings with the people on Mr. Bridge’s list and adding names as they went. Mr. Bridge’s first stop was Graterford, a maximum-security facility outside of Philadelphia that, at the time, held more child lifers than any prison in the state. Dozens of men crowded into Graterford’s chapel to hear what Mr. Bridge had to say.

“People wanted to know what was coming down the pike,” remembered Kempis “Ghani” Songster, who was in the room that day. “Is this a ray of light flickering on?”

At age 15, Mr. Songster stabbed another teenager to death in a crack house. Both were runaways working for the same gang. He was given a life sentence for his crime, but it wasn’t until that meeting in 2006, nearly two decades after he went to prison as a scrawny kid who couldn’t grow a beard, that he realized how many other lifers at Graterford had also arrived as teenagers.

“It was like, Whoa, he’s been here since he was a kid, too?” Mr. Songster said. “A lot of us who were child lifers didn’t really know that we were in a distinct class.”

There had never been a reason to talk about age. The courts had treated them as adults, and if anything, being marked as a child in a violent adult prison would only have made them more vulnerable. Now, there was power in the identity.

The child lifers inside Graterford began organizing. They quickly formed a committee called Juvenile Lifers for Justice, which met weekly to discuss the evolving law and science around adolescent development. They drafted pamphlets, circulated newsletters to other prisons and their family members, and kept one another motivated around their common cause.

These conversations also started to change how some of the men thought about why they had committed such serious crimes.

Mr. Songster said he never felt “entitled” to be free. “I can’t wash the blood off my hands that’s on my hands,” he said. But the emerging research, which showed brains aren’t fully developed until people get into their 20s, gave him new understanding. “It made me curious about myself,” Mr. Songster said of the research. “I knew I was a good person, but I couldn’t reconcile the person that I became and I know I am with the person that committed that horrible act.”

The child lifers were also reaching out beyond the prison walls. They invited politicians to visit Graterford and partnered with nonprofit organizations to distribute supplies to local schools.

“We were always trying to break that wall down so people could see we’re humans,” said Don Jones, who was also sentenced as a minor and was the president of Graterford’s N.A.A.C.P. chapter during this period.

Mr. Bridge and Ms. Levick became frequent fixtures at the prison. At each of these visits, Ms. Levick was struck by how the men — imprisoned at such a young age and last in line for any prison edification programs because of their status as lifers — had mastered the nuances of the law and were orchestrating a statewide grass-roots movement from inside prison. “Their desire to come home was real,” Ms. Levick said. “It was palpable, and it made you want to do more.”

“We were always trying to break that wall down so people could see we’re humans,” said Don Jones, who was locked up at Graterford and has since been released.

Mr. Drinks had spent 10 years at Graterford, but after he was transferred upstate, newsletters coming out of Graterford and messages passed along from old friends became his lifeline. Without a lawyer of his own, he kept his case alive by adapting draft legal petitions circulated by Mr. Bridge. And he documented his accomplishments in prison — articles he’d written, certificates he’d earned, thank-you notes from the nonprofits he’d raised money for — until he had three manila envelopes’ worth of records illustrating all the ways he’d grown.

Still, he never quite let himself believe that Mr. Bridge’s prediction would pan out. He wanted to be prepared, but he was also prepared to be let down.

“It’s like throwing water out of a boat that’s sinking,” Mr. Drinks said. “You’ve got to do it anyway, because if you don’t, the water’s going to get you.”

Throughout this period, lawyers around the country, including Ms. Levick and Mr. Bridge, were bringing new cases, trying to apply the rationale in the Roper ruling to other kinds of sentences for juveniles. At the national level, a key leader in this work was Bryan Stevenson, founder and executive director of the Equal Justice Initiative, a nonprofit.

Mr. Stevenson saw a connection between the superpredator era and the overwhelming number of young Black boys who had been locked away for life.

“You had these criminologists going around saying that some children aren’t children. Some kids look like kids, but they’re really, quote, superpredators,” he said. “That narrative was so prevalent, so persuasive, that you see states all over the country lowering the minimum age for trying children as adults.”

In 2008, the Equal Justice Initiative found 73 children who had been given sentences of life without parole when they were 13 and 14 years old. And all of the people who received those sentences for crimes other than homicide were children of color.

“It just said something about the way in which race was a proxy for a presumption of dangerousness, this presumption of irredeemability,” Mr. Stevenson said.

Then came a series of breakthroughs. In 2010, the Supreme Court abolished sentences of life without parole for minors charged with crimes other than murder. Two years after that, Mr. Stevenson appeared before the court on behalf of two young men who were sentenced to life without parole when they were 14. In its decision in Miller v. Alabama, the Supreme Court struck down all mandatory sentences of life without parole for juveniles. Four years later, in a case called Montgomery v. Louisiana, for which Ms. Levick served as co-counsel, the court made that decision retroactive, fulfilling the prediction Mr. Bridge made in the Graterford chapel a decade before, and giving more than 2,800 child lifers across the country the right to have their sentences revisited.

Mr. Drinks remembers the first time he got a look at Mr. Bridge’s list. It was filled with the names of people he’d known for years, but had never known were child lifers. There was Abd’Allah Lateef, the soft-spoken guy he’d always admired at Graterford, even when he griped about Mr. Drinks’s loud music. There was Luis “Suave” Gonzalez, a big talker whom Mr. Drinks had encouraged to lead one of Graterford’s Latin American cultural exchange groups. And there was Don Jones, a friend so close, Mr. Drinks said, “my brothers call him brother.”

“That was my tear-shed moment,” Mr. Drinks said. “I knew I was on the list, but going down the list and seeing genuine friends?” Now, they might all have a shot at freedom — a shot, but not a guarantee.

A block in North Philadelphia. Donnell Drinks sold drugs in the area as a teenager and was convicted of homicide at age 17 in a robbery gone wrong.

‘The election changed everything’

The Supreme Court’s rulings in Millerand Montgomery marked an important rethinking of culpability when it comes to children who commit the most serious crimes. But the practical implications of the rulings were limited: the court hadn’t abolished all life without parole sentences for children — only ones where state laws made the sentences mandatory.And while child lifers now had a chance to make a case for their release, prosecutors could still seek new life sentences. In other states with high numbers of child lifers, including Michigan and Louisiana, as well as some parts of Pennsylvania, that’s just what they did.

In Philadelphia, however, all of the list-gathering and planning that had been taking place for more than a decade began to pay off. Most of the state’s child lifers had been prosecuted in the city, and it was up to its district attorney’s office and court system to move hundreds of people through the resentencing process. “Philadelphia was bad, and everybody recognized it was bad,” Mr. Bridge said.

Ms. Levick added, “In a way, the whole world was watching.”

Philadelphia soon began resentencing and releasing child lifers, starting with those who’d been in prison the longest. But while R. Seth Williams, Philadelphia’s district attorney, initially committed not to resentence anyone to life without parole, he stuck to strict new state sentencing guidelines, which meant that Mr. Drinks and others who had been swept up in the ’90s, would most likely spend many more years in prison.

Marsha Levick, an expert on juvenile sentencing, visited inmates. “Their desire to come home was real,” Ms. Levick said. “It was palpable, and it made you want to do more.”

Mr. Williams viewed this approach as the only way to honor the Supreme Court’s ruling, the Pennsylvania government’s consensus and the rights of the victims. “People often only look at the factors for the defendant. I understand. But they often forget there was a victim,” Mr. Williams said. “Someone was murdered. We just can’t just sweep that under the rug.”

Then came a twist that no one predicted. In March 2017, a little over a year after the Montgomery decision, Mr. Williams was indicted on charges including bribery and extortion and later sentenced to five years in prison. Almost as surprising was who was elected to be his successor: a sharp-elbowed former public defender and criminal defense attorney named Larry Krasner.

Whatever Ms. Abraham, the former district attorney, had been to the city in the 1990s, Mr. Krasner swore to be the opposite. (Ms. Abraham did not respond to requests for comment.) He had run against the death penalty and mass incarceration, and vowed to decriminalize marijuana and end cash bail. One of his first moves after taking office in January 2018 was to fire 31 prosecutors in a purge that became known as the Snow Day Massacre.

When it came to juvenile lifers, Mr. Krasner was more open than his predecessor to considering how people had changed in the decades since committing their crimes. Chesley Lightsey is a former assistant district attorney who worked on Mr. Drinks’s case and others under both administrations. “It took time for me to wrap my head around it: ‘Okay, now we can have much more of a conversation about this,’” she said about the change when Krasner was elected. “It was just a different perspective.”

Under Mr. Krasner, prosecutors paid special attention to reports drafted by mitigation specialists. Those specialists, who are essentially professional storytellers for defendants, interviewed juvenile lifers, their families and anyone else who could offer context. They asked questions about how the inmates had been raised, the trauma and pain that had influenced their actions, what they had done with their time in prison and what they planned to do upon release.

By the time Mr. Krasner took office in January 2018, Mr. Drinks had spent hours spilling his soul to a lawyer and mitigator named Rachel Miller. Over the course of countless calls and several in-person visits, Ms. Miller wove the story of Mr. Drinks’s life into a memo, complete with a two-inch stack of documents highlighting his accomplishments.

The memo covers the most painful moments of Mr. Drinks’s childhood: being abandoned by his father, his mother’s struggle with addiction, getting evicted. It describes how Mr. Drinks would skip school to collect the family’s food stamps before his mother could pawn them for drugs and how, when his mother turned violent, he would take the brunt of her beatings in an attempt to spare his brothers.

But the memo also tells the story of a grown man who spent his time behind bars trying to atone for the crime that put him there. Among the stack of documents is a community college transcript filled with A’s and B’s, an agenda for a workshop he organized with victims’ rights advocates and a photo of him beaming behind a giant check made out to Big Brothers Big Sisters of America. Perhaps most meaningful to Mr. Drinks were the letters he received from other incarcerated men who were members of a youth group he founded attesting to all the ways the group, and Mr. Drinks, had saved them. “I did not know the child that committed the crime he is in here for,” read one of the letters, “but the man I do know is not that same person.”

Before Mr. Krasner’s election, Mr. Drinks was offered a deal of 35 years to life, which would have made him eligible for parole in 2026. Shortly after Mr. Krasner took over in 2018, Mr. Drinks got a new offer: time served.

“The election changed everything,” Mr. Drinks said, referring to Mr. Krasner’s victory.

“I’m always conscious of the emotion, the hurt, the disappointment, the disdain, all those negative emotions that my actions led to,” Mr. Drinks said of the murder he committed. “I’ve got to live the rest of my life counteracting that.”

Mr. Drinks’s case was not unique. Researchers at Montclair State University have found that, under Mr. Krasner, prosecutors began offering child lifers new sentences that were, on average, 11 years shorter than the ones offered to those same people under Mr. Williams. Crucially, the researchers found that child lifers’ release had a negligible effect on public safety. Seven years after they started coming home, the rearrest rate for Philadelphia’s child lifers hovers around 5 percent. That’s small compared with the national rate, where 40 percent of people with past murder convictions are rearrested within the first five years, according to the most recent data from the Bureau of Justice Statistics. As of early this year, only three of the city’s child lifers who were rearrested have been convicted (for marijuana possession, contempt and robbery in the third degree), according to the Montclair State researchers.

For Mr. Krasner, these numbers reveal as a lie the idea that some people are so incapable of change that they should never be offered a shot at it. “It was always wrong to believe that people are either saints or they’re sinners,” Mr. Krasner said.

At his resentencing hearing in April 2018, Mr. Drinks read aloud from a letter before a gallery filled with friends and family, as well as the loved ones of Mr. Huntley, his victim. He apologized to Mr. Huntley’s family and said he knew he had no right to ask anyone in the room for forgiveness, and so he didn’t. But he did promise to spend the rest of his life making amends.

Mr. Huntley’s family members also made statements to the court. In a handwritten letter, Mr. Huntley’s sister described her brother as a loving and giving person. She explained how his murder had crushed her family, derailed her own education and deprived her children of ever knowing their uncle. “My mother still is deeply hurt and our family find it difficult to celebrate Valentine’s Day,” she wrote, “because these horrible, horrible actions took place that evening leading into his death.” She told the court that she did not want to see Mr. Drinks released.

Mr. Huntley’s sister did not respond to an interview request, but Suzanne Estrella, who runs the Office of Victim Advocate in Pennsylvania, said that many victims’ families “flat-out just do not” agree with the resentencings. But she said there were also many families that understood and accepted them. “You have survivors who have lost loved ones and survivors who have loved ones who are incarcerated,” Ms. Estrella said. “So you see all those perspectives coming to the table at the same time.”

As painful as it was, Mr. Drinks said he appreciated Mr. Huntley’s family’s honesty. “I felt it, and I understood it,” he said. “I’m always conscious of the emotion, the hurt, the disappointment, the disdain, all those negative emotions that my actions led to. I’ve got to live the rest of my life counteracting that.”

Three months after the hearing, having won the approval of the parole board, Mr. Drinks met his brothers as he walked out of prison for the first time in nearly three decades. Mr. Drinks remembers his sense of disbelief and being a little carsick as they drove the four hours back to Philadelphia, where he would move in with his brother Damon. The whole way home, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following close behind. “I didn’t want to look back,” he said, “so I kept looking ahead.”

Donnell Drinks married Shekia Drinks two years ago. But he hasn’t been able to get the approval needed to move out of his brother’s home and in with his wife.

A return to the 1990s?

Of the more than 300 child lifers who became eligible for resentencing in Philadelphia in 2016, all but about a dozen have been resentenced, and more than 220 have been released, the majority of them on lifetime parole. That’s nearly a quarter of the roughly 1,000 total child lifers who have been released across the country. These numbers make Philadelphia, once an outlier in imprisoning minors for life, now an outlier in letting them go. By 2020, the city had resentenced more child lifers than Michigan and Louisiana combined.

What set the city apart, said Mr. Stevenson, of the Equal Justice Initiative, was not just the buy-in from local officials and public defenders, but also the community of child lifers who became their own best argument for release.

“It was the way they organized, the way they cared for one another, the way they modeled a kind of readiness to contribute to society,” Mr. Stevenson said. “These young people had been told they were going to die in prison. Some of them just never accepted that.”

Since the Supreme Court decisions, more than half of all states have outlawed life without parole sentences for children altogether, reducing the number of child lifers left in the country to fewer than 600, according to the Campaign for the Fair Sentencing of Youth, a national nonprofit. Mr. Stevenson’s organization is now working to raise the minimum age at which children can be tried as adults in 11 states, including Pennsylvania, where there is no age floor. Other states are considering abolishing mandatory life without parole sentences for people under 21.

While life without the possibility of parole sentences for juveniles are now rare, they are not unheard of. The now solidly conservative Supreme Court has issued a ruling that could lower the bar for judges to apply the sentence to children in states where it is still allowed. A prosecutor in Oakland County, Mich., is seeking life without parole for a mass shooter who was 15 when he killed four students at his high school in 2021. A judge will have to weigh the horror of his crime against the possibility that, over time, he could change.

The United States is still the only country in the world that gives courts the discretion to send children to prison without the chance of proving themselves later in life at a parole hearing. And the tough-on-crime rhetoric of the 1990s is making a comeback, thanks to a spike in violent crime that began at the outset of the pandemic. In Philadelphia alone, the murder rate has surpassed the record set in 1990 two years in a row, with young people emerging as both victims and perpetrators.

Mr. Drinks and Mr. Jones started an anti-violence group in Philadelphia and sometimes walk the streets handing out pamphlets.

Just as they did in prison, child lifers have come together to create a buffer against an outside world that often feels hostile and unwelcoming.

Though this uptick in crime is showing signs of decline, it has prompted a nationwide backlash against progressive prosecutors, including Mr. Krasner, whose comparatively lenient approach has become a lightning rod in local politics. Mr. Krasner was recently the subject of an impeachment effort by Pennsylvania Republicans, and even some Democrats raced to condemn his record during the city’s mayoral primary in May.

Those who were released have become some of the loudest voices for building upon the fragile gains they fought for while on the inside. Their fight now is about abolishing life without parole for everyone, getting young people out of adult prisons and addressing the underlying causes of the violence plaguing Philadelphia and other major cities.

“If you would have dealt with a lot of my issues,” Mr. Drinks said, “they probably would not have escalated to crime.”

It’s not that Mr. Drinks and his fellow activists believe juveniles convicted of murder should not be held accountable. “When we talk to legislators, we don’t say: Throw the doors open, and everybody’s coming home,” Mr. Drinks said. “Our conversation is always that everybody deserves an opportunity to show they’re worthy of coming home.”

Today, Mr. Drinks coordinates a network of former child lifers through the Campaign for the Fair Sentencing of Youth. In any given week, he might be found with two cellphones in hand, flying to Alabama to urge progressive prosecutors to stay the course, organizing retreats for formerly incarcerated men and women, or canvassing city streets through an anti-violence nonprofit he co-founded with Mr. Jones, his friend from Graterford.

Mr. Drinks and other child lifers know that they embody for the public what all the research said about a young person’s capacity for change, and they are keenly aware that their example could help secure other people’s freedom. But they are also wary of being used to suggest that the system works, or allowing it to conceal just how difficult their re-entry into the outside world has been.

While several of Philadelphia’s child lifers have gone on to become an Ivy League lecturer or nonprofit executive, many more are working minimum-wage jobs or are unable to find work. Some are in bad health. Four have died. Nearly all of them are on lifetime parole, with the possibility of being sent back to prison forever looming.

Mr. Drinks credits his brothers, Damon and Kareem, for making his homecoming easier. Throughout Mr. Drinks’s incarceration, the three brothers had remained as close as the prison system would allow, keeping up visits even when he was transferred far away. Often, Damon Drinks would bring along Mr. Drinks’s son, who was just 3 when his father was arrested, and is now a grown man with a family of his own. It is thanks to his brothers, Mr. Drinks says, that he was able to maintain a relationship with his son at all.

Mr. Drinks, in Fairmount Park, said his brothers visited him while he was in prison and have helped him readjust to life on the outside.

Damon and Kareem Drinks’s support continued once their big brother was released. They took him shopping, kept him housed and partnered with him to start a local printing company not far from the city courthouse. Mr. Drinks has not had to struggle to survive, but that doesn’t mean he has not struggled. Five years after he left prison, the terms of his parole still prohibit him from leaving the county of Philadelphia without permission. He got married two years ago, but he has yet to get the approval needed to move out of his brother’s home and in with his wife. And he lives with the constant fear that one act of violence by any of the state’s other child lifers could spell the end of his own tenuous freedom.

This fear is part of what keeps Mr. Drinks connected to the men who were once boys with him on the inside. Just as they did in prison, child lifers have come together to create a buffer against an outside world that often feels hostile and unwelcoming. These bonds are as much a product of their shared experiences as they are a defense against their shared vulnerabilities.

“We’re each other’s co-defendants,” Mr. Drinks said. “We see people want to stray, it’s like, No, come on. We’re going to get to this finish line together.”

Mr. Drinks hugs Michael “Smokey” Wilson, another former child lifer.

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 4: Test Subject

“I’ve come to collect you for individual counseling.” Crane goes to grab my arm and I flinch away to stand in a fighting stance. “Very well, no armed escort is necessary as long as you play nice. You’re capable of walking cooperatively, right?”

I ignore his jeering tone and wave goodbye to Ivy and Nigma before walking down through another hallway. This one’s lit up better than the others and is much less noisy.

“You know where you’re going, Prentiss,” Crane observes from behind. “Care to explain why? You’ve never been inside Arkham before.”

“I may or may not have memorized the blueprints.”

Silence takes over. If I’m correct the interrogation- oh, old habits. The safe space room should be another three doors down and 5 to the left. It certainly is because the door I stop in front of is the one Crane unlocks when he catches up. The mirror attached to the wall outside leads me to believe it's used for police interrogations. The room I’m nudged into is smaller than all the others. Only a matching mirror, a simple desk, and two chairs take up space.

I don’t like it. Being on the other end of therapy. Back in Metropolis the facilities there are much more open and modernized. This place looks as if it’s going to swallow me whole and never let me see the light of day. And I’m supposed to be stuck in here with Crane for a whole hour?

“Take a seat please,” Crane instructs as he himself sits at the table and writes down more notes. “The date is October 2nd, the time is 11am Eastern Time. Therapy is now in session, Calico Prentiss.”

“Still waiting on that lawyer.”

“I see you still show reluctance to your situation,” Crane says simply. “How are you getting along with the other inmates?”

I bite my lip and stay strong to keep my gaze from dropping. “I’ll admit the company here is far better than what I had in Metropolis.”

“Interesting.” Crane’s icy blue eyes flash with hidden excitement. “And how has my, ah, treatment been acting?”

He’s going to be so disappointed. I’ll admit I’m still a bit skeptical of the toxin’s effects; however I can’t carry out the rest of my life limiting myself because I’m afraid to fail. 

“I’ve kept my head, Dr. Crane. There have been no new hallucinations or symptoms.”

My response takes a moment so set in. “I see.” 

Crane’s face shows no readable emotion; yet there’s no denying the aggravation itching under his skin. He goes to write more notes and I notice he’s holding the pen much tighter.

“You’re upset. Good.”

I cross my arms and lean back in my chair, victorious. There you have it, Dr. Crane. You can try to quiet me as much as you like but I won’t be the perfect patient you want me to be.

“My toxin hasn’t failed yet.” Now with a laid-back demeanor, Crane opens his briefcase and my mind races to the conclusion of what’s about to happen. “Maybe it’s time for a stronger dose-”

Bang bang!

A loud knock on the door startles both of us. It creaks open and a security guard pokes her head in.

“Dr. Crane, Rachel Dawes from the District Attorney’s Office is here to see you.”

The doctor takes a deep breath and regathers his thoughts. “Very well. We shall continue our session later, Prentiss.” He orders the guard to escort me back to my cell and leans in to whisper: “I suggest you keep quiet unless you want me to change your condition to a death sentence.”

Death. Something that used to bring back painful and guilty memories. Who knew that the loss of my parents would turn death into something so fascinating? The methods of death, the causes, the superstitions. Crane’s invitation of death might be the best thing that’s happened to me all day. 

In a fleeting moment I see a glimpse of a brown-haired woman in a black business suit turn around the corner. The D.A. lady!

“Help! Please! I’m not supposed to be here!” I grip the door and the guard tries to tug me away. My hope soars when I see the D.A. woman return with a confused look. “My name is Dr. Calico Prentiss from the Metropolis Hell’s Gate Psychiatric Institution! I am of sound mind and demand to speak to a lawyer- or at least just one person who’s not as corrupted as the rest of this insane city-!”

A cloth is shoved in my mouth and I feel something collide with my skull. I crumple to the ground and the guard gives a hard kick to my stomach for good measure. I stay like that for about 15 minutes and then hear familiar footsteps approaching. 

Crane kneels down and forces me against the wall, eyeing me with controlled anger.

“I don’t get mad often. But you seem to want to change that. For this I am going to subject you to special treatment.”

I’m pulled up to stand and Crane starts dragging me down the hall. Personal mortality is a personal understanding of one’s own mortality and acceptance of the fact that they are going to die. I now see that I will have to accept my death today. There’s no way I’m surviving after that stunt. 

“Special treatment? Like what? Electroshock therapy? Waterboarding? You know my worst fear is failure and that my parents are dead. What do I have to lose that death won’t deliver?”

The doctor tsks and waves a finger at me. “Oh, no. I’m not going to kill you. You could have had the same routine as the other inmates. But you couldn’t play the game, could you? Had to play the hero and try to tell the nice lawyer about the bad guy in the scary mask?" He acquires a vicious look in his eye. “No, I don’t think so.”

Crane forces me down several flights of stairs and I’m starting to lose track of where we are. I don’t remember this in the blueprints. Suddenly we stop and Crane uses a key to open a gate into another section of the building.

“Where are we?”

“In an abandoned wing of Arkham, where no one can hear you scream.” 

In the dark I see the gate close and hear the keys jiggling, locking me in. Before I can reach for something to defend myself, Crane flips on a dim, flickering light and locks in on me with a hungry gaze.

“You are my new lab rat, Calico Prentiss.”

So that’s it? I spend the rest of whatever time Crane gives me as a spare body for experiments. I should feel scared… But I’m not. 

“Knowing that your days are numbered gives your life a more powerful sense of meaning,” I say softly. “It sets a time limit to what we want to accomplish in life. If we didn’t have a limit on life we would never be motivated to do anything because life would go on forever.” The doctor’s perplexed expression shows I’ve caught his attention. “But my accomplishments have already been fulfilled, Dr. Jonathan Crane. I became a psychiatrist. I helped people. But in this sad, twisted world helping people only makes you a target.”

Grasping my nerves I step forward and accept my fate. “If my eventual death is to be for the use of science then so be it. But as Einstein said, time is relative. What might seem like a week to you seems like 10 years to me and visa versa. I’m more than capable of conjuring enough mental motivation to put up with whatever experiments you’ve got. Do your worst, Dr. Crane.”

My speech leaves the doctor wide-eyed as he keeps scanning me with curiosity. The first time he looked at me like that it felt unsettling, but now… Why do I feel encouraged to edge him on? It works because Crane’s advance has turned subtly gentle. 

“You are without a doubt one of the most unique patients I’ve discovered, even if you never were supposed to be one.” He holds out a hand as if he’s approaching a wild animal. “This doesn’t have to be as bad as you think. You need only cooperate and keep quiet. If you keep to that then I promise I won’t hurt you beyond my range of standards.”

Is he serious? He talks about being locked up and tested on as if it’s a simple business deal! 

“What exactly is your range of standards, Dr. Crane?”

He shrugs. “Being exposed to some toxins isn’t exactly the same as smelling a rose, dear. I can’t guarantee each dose will be merciful. But I will take precautions to prevent it, I assure you.”

This is seeming more and more like a discussion a surgeon has with their patient before undergoing surgery. If I didn’t know better I’d say he’s actually being… sympathetic. 

“And if I don’t cooperate then someone pays for the guards to look the other way and have someone bump me off?” Crane nods. I sigh heavily and consider my options. Compared to being beaten to a pulp in the street this doesn’t seem as brutal. And it’s in the name of science, which has never failed me before. “Very well. I will consent to your experiments, only if you let me back into group therapy. After each session I will return here.”

The doctor frowns. “Why return to group therapy? What guarantee do I have that you won’t tattle the second I let you back upstairs?”

“Because I am an ambivert, Dr. Crane. If you keep me locked down here with no other human contact then my mind will disorient and create inaccurate data for your tests. That, and I actually liked talking to Nigma and Ivy even if they’re not normal.”

“None of us here are normal, Dr. Prentiss,” Crane replies in a distant cold voice. 

I'm in way over my head. I never should have come to Gotham no matter how good the pay is. 

“However since you do make a fair point I will allow you 1 hour of group therapy each day.”

He budged. Is it just me or is Crane actually being nice? No, he just wants to dangle a carrot and make me play by the rules. Still, it’s a small win.

“Thank you, Dr. Crane.” 

“Try anything and I’ll arrange for you to live in constant terror for the rest of your life,” he responds in a laid-back tone and pats my shoulder before walking over and locking the gate behind him.

It’s no deal with the devil, yet why do I feel as if I’ve just signed my own death certificate?

[phoebe-delia]

One Day More (Harry Potter Version)

Okay I have written a little HP-themed parody of "One Day More" from Les Miserables. Because it wouldn't leave my mind once I thought of it.

I'm sorry if this doesn't make much sense to read over text, especially the ending since it's technically a bunch of characters singing their parts until they all come together for the last few lines. If you're not familiar with Les Mis I suggest you listen to the song before you try to read the lyrics.

ALSO a few notes here. I have put commas and dashes in order to indicate the rhythm at which certain words are said to fit with the timing/rhythm of the original lyrics, if that makes any sense. Also this IGNORES some of canon. Dumbledore is alive, and I basically just sorta wrote what I wanted without regard for what had actually *happened* on the day before the war.

Also, yes, this takes place (in my AU) the day before the final battle.

Here's a link to the original song.

[Dumbledore:] One day more A day that divination long forebode

The seeds I planted then will now be sowed. The orphaned babe from decades past

Will fin'lly fill his fate at last One day more [Harry:]

My life-long war could be near end

Will—I-see-days, beyond tomorrow? [Dumbledore:] One day more [Ron & Hermione:]

How long we wasted in denial

But what, is left I’ll share entirely

[Draco:] How have months undone my life? [Ron & Hermione:] I regret the pain I’ve caused [Draco:] How’s my enemy my hero? [Ron & Hermione:] All the pride I let consume [Draco:]

Could it be I’ve been so wrong? [Ron & Hermione:] I will fight here by your side [Draco:] Could he ever take my hand? [Remus:]

I’ll avenge them one by one

[Harry:]

All I’ve done has led to now

[Remus:]

But their deaths won’t be in vain

[Harry:]

I will do what’s right and just

[Remus:]

Victory now won’t bring them back

[Harry:]

Riddle’s reign will end with me

[Remus:] But my marauders fight with me! [All:] The time is now The day is here [Dumbledore:] One day more! [Voldemort:] One more day till I’m triumphant

I’ll be on my well-earned throne

They are foolish child fighters

They will soon learn to obey [Dumbledore:] One day more! [Bellatrix & Greyback:] Little tyrant tykes

Screamin’ for their mums

Fun to teach ‘em lessons

About who’s in charge Spook ‘em with a sneer

Hit ‘em with a hex See ‘em runnin, squealin

Like a pen of pigs! [The D.A. Students:]

This is not a war we started

This is not a fight we chose

But if they won’t lend an ear

We will shout our battle cries

This ends with our generation

Evil won’t win on our watch

Stand your ground and raise your wands

[Harry:] My place is here I fight with you! [Dumbledore:] One day more!

[[ALL SUNG AT THE SAME TIME]]

[Ron & Hermione:]

How long we wasted in denial

I swear I’ll never leave your side

And all the time I’ve got I’ll give you [Draco:] Could he ever take my hand? [Voldemort:]

I will finally kill that Potter

Now his luck is all run out

They will see that he’s no hero

They will worship me instead [Dumbledore:] One day more! [Bellatrix & Greyback:] Little tyrant tykes

Screamin’ for their mums

Fun to teach ‘em lessons

About who’s in charge [Voldemort:] One more day till I’m triumphant

I’ll be on my well-earned throne

They are foolish child fighters Tomorrow fills the prophecy [Dumbledore:] Tomorrow is the fated day Tomorrow fills the prophecy [All:] Tomorrow nothing that we’ve known will ever be the same again One more fight One more war One day more!

[lovinglettersacrosstheverse]

Special Delivery!

We've got a letter for Louise Worth @mysweetlouise! And there's even some pressed flowers! 💖💕

My Dear Lou.

How long will you make me wait? Dancing on the edge of my reach with the one you know I despise most? I know you enjoy games but hasn’t this gone on long enough?

A part of me feels this is my own fault. Some form of punishment for the state I left you in. I wish you knew how much it has tormented me over the years. Knowing what was only a second in the world was decades in the mirror with Damien and Celine, I can’t imagine how alone you must have been. How much time you spent alone, trapped. The centuries we will never know. You did not deserve that. Which is why I don't understand why you keep playing with Mark. It’s not the same Mark, fine, but they all have that same seed of narcissism inside them that lead to our fates.

We could make a home in this new reality, if you would only give me the chance. I haven't made one without you yet, not really. There’s a building where I meet with others, unusual like us. I have a room with a bed here, but I do not rest. If you were here, it would give the old bed purpose and I would keep you company. The affection of Damian and curiosity to know you of Celine live on in me, memories of you that are not mine haunt me. Your face is what I see most nights Louise, before everything went wrong, the college days, the games, the late walks across the college grounds. 

And the look in the mirror when you were left behind. I don’t know which one is worse.

Please! I have been tortured enough, join me and we will make sure Mark receives the same punishment as I or better yet, ensure he can’t hurt another soul when he next feels the need. While I drown in the past of our fury and pain, he lives on free of his sins. 

I’ve taken a breath and a moment of reflection. This isn't about him. This is about you and me. And you deserve better than you have ever gotten, Lou. I want to be the one to provide that for you, we can provide a better life and a better future for each other. You never truly got to be the D.A. in our past life, but you can be anything in our future. Not just playing a role, a meaningless game where nothing matters as you do now. We can make something with substance that actually counts for something. But I can’t do it without you.

Maybe I sound like a fool. We haven’t gotten the chance to re-familiarize ourselves with each other in some time, despite how long we’ve had. You’re a different person by now as well, I imagine. I wonder how many habits you still have from the past. What new ones I could learn about you. 

When you tire of your current circumstances, remember that my door is always open and a new home of our own making ready to be built. 

Sincerely,

Your Ever Waiting Darkiplier

Well, there is one more thing....

I also found a torn paper in the mailbox today, it looks like a journal page? I'm not sure this is supposed to be here... but I think its for a Louise Worth as well so maybe i am supposed to deliver it!

It’s late now. I’m in my office, reading the most recent report from the Jim’s when the radio changed. It started playing this slow jazz and these memories came to my mind, unbidden. Damien's memories of you, late nights listening to jazz as you both studied for exams. A record you’d put on the phonograph that became his go to for focusing on work in the years after. The years apart as you all worked for your separate goals, when Damien would spend these nights wishing for your company once again. Lou.

You're not even here. I write only for myself, a page i will tear and burn when I have the chance. But still, writing to you makes it easier somehow. Calms me in these moments.

This body always aches, and I can imagine at one point the heart would ache for you. If I told you it still did, you would know better than to believe me, wouldn’t you? I saw it in your eyes the last time we met, your silent regard for me. You're getting wiser to the situation. I can’t fool you into thinking the Damien you knew is still in here anymore, can I? Nor can I convince you that being as I am, I can feel anything other than rage and resentment. Perhaps the resentment I feel towards Mark for making that promised future of you and Damian working together side by side once again is a form of love itself?

But it’s not even by his remnants you stand by now is it?

Do you have any idea what it’s like to be in a body constantly in a state of decay? I feel the pull of death over me constantly, trying to drag me away like a fist around my throat, never tightening more than it is but never loosening either. And yet you’re out there in your own new skin, where did it come from?

(Note from here to the * was originally all scribbled out but i managed to make it readable... though maybe I should have left it)

Do you want me to apologize for leaving you there? None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for him, I am trying to get revenge for us all!

And now you go and have your little adventures with that monster! In practically every reality, you two are connected in some way, you really think any Mark in any other universe is any different than the one who did this to us? This is why you couldn’t stay! You’re too soft, you weren’t angry enough at the right people. You are the exact fool Celine pegged you for that night, all those years ago. 

How did you get a new body? How, how, who did you take it from, where did you get it, why do YOU have one?*

I apologize. You know how this unstable amalgamation of my being can be. I'm getting better at controlling it over the years, but I still have my moments. Can you not lend a hand to an old friend?  Or perhaps those old tales you told Damien once were true, and this is my repentance for breaking a mirror?

No, perhaps you're right. And there is more to atone for on my end. You should not have been pushed out. I was blinded by the mission of my birth. Clearly I underestimated your strength and resolve, if the way you stand against me and the endurance of your soul is anything to go by.

We are still old friends, aren’t we? You were there when I was created, the first face I saw and even behind whatever cloaks me now, still the face I see in every mirror and reflection. What some might say should be guilt or softness I should feel at that is as all things, replaced with the rage of knowing why I carry you with me in such a literal way…

I wish to confide in you one thing Louise, that I barely confide in myself. There’s one other feeling I'm capable of that sits so deep within me it’s but a grain of sand in the void fractures that make up my sewn together soul. Fear. I am the living testament to their hatred and thirst for revenge. If, when I see their retribution through, then what? What will become of me? Will I have any purpose? Will I continue to exist at all? What will be left when there is no one left to despise? You are the only one I can think of to ask. How did you survive the void of the mirror for so long that you escaped? What feeling motivated you? What purpose?

I shouldn’t keep bringing up old wounds, but what else can I do as a living scab of a soul myself? It is only this mission that keeps this broken body together.

If you just let me in, I can fix all of this. Just let your old friend in Lou.