#once their parents were reckless and crazy and its a part of the growing pains of growing up

[chronal-anomaly]

Lena telling your muse's kids about your muse, telling them wild and reckless stories from their youth, being the go-to for her wisdom and experience with life after life after life. Descendants feeling lonely? Seeking out advice? They can visit the small alters of their loved ones Lena has, hold their dad's favorite jacket, smell their mom's perfume in the same bottle she used to use. Lena will make a cup of tea and stroke their hair while she tells stories, give them a soft place to land.

[spookyvalentine]

oc profile:

thanks for the tag @aceghosts !! i always have so much fun doing these. imma snag @irikahkrios @battlemastershepard @vizarding @comefeedtherainn​ @yellingaboutmasseffect​ @zet-sway​ and have at it if ye wish me mateys!

General-

Name: mercy shepard (no middle name)

Alias(es): shep, coach (from sports coach au)

Gender: agender

Age: i haven’t quite figured out how long i hc 3 to be, but by the end of it, maybe thirty four, fiveish? if you count the years their body was on the table. mercy... doesn’t really. at least start of 2, when asked their age usually what fell out of their mouth first was thirty one. (for sports coach au they’ve just turned thirty one)

Birthdate: april 11? 2154. day isn’t really known for sure? they were found several days old

Place of birth: unknown! but they were left at st. bernard parish fire department, louisiana while still a fresh baby

Hometown: their most stable home was around lake martin, when they were taken in by the henrys. around thirteen they went to juvie in new orleans, and that started their urban feral teenager life. eventually they move out to another megacity (havent figured out which one yet lmao) and meets kasumi

Spoken language(s): they’re pretty adept without the translator. mercy is fluent in english and creole, passable french and korean, and readily picks up phrases in other languages. after being reconstructed, a translator was literally built into mercy. they resent its presence sometimes.

Sexual preference: open. they’ve been too damn busy to even think to seek out experiences, but aesthetically admire all sorts

Occupation: spectre and alliance officer. enormous pain in the ass before that

Appearance-

Eye color: gold. not hazel or brown ‘til in the light type thing. when anderson first saw those odd lantern eyes it made him think of the foxes that liked to linger at the edges of his parents garden when he was growing up

Hair color: somewhere between summer wheat and spun gold. darkens a little, when not planetside

Height: 6’2 >:)

Scars: they have some from the thresher maw, some acid scars on the left side of their body like thick webbing that cut through parts of a tattoo. maybe got part of their ear. and one they got as a kid that sliced across their face. and then they were rebuilt, and what was left in their place were those glowing lines. (sports coach au they still have the thresher maw scars)

Favorite-

Color: greens

Hair color: favorite hair color on them??? they’ve never dyed their hair before, only crazy haircuts

Song: its not mercy’s favorite song bc i dont know how i’d even choose right, but the song that i have in my head for them is falcon in the dive from the musical the scarlet pimpernel (which fucks severely, also just do yourself a favor and listen to this too because christine andreas makes my heart stop beating. wow. WOW yes i will push it on everyone)

Food: clementines, satsumas, mandarins—any sweet citrus that peels easily (oranges are more work, but will be eaten if they’re around). persimmons, figs. cotton candy flavored grapes. cherries, peaches. they’re a very big fruit bat, basically. they get hype for an alien produce stand

Drink: day to day? chicory coffee, lapsang souchang, soda water. Sometimes lemonade or apple juice. for booze, theyre down for a beer. really likes a good whiskey. delights trying homebrew moonshine. ‘you made it in your bathtub? you went blind for two minutes? hell yeah i’ll have a glass cheers’

Have They-

Passed university: they went through officer academy and all that n7 training, does that count? 

Had sex: once in a relationship w thane, yeah boiii 

Had sex in public: …maybe? that is um. something to explore 

Gotten pregnant: never, also not possible

Kissed a boy: yes, although for these situations ‘been kissed by’ is maybe more accurate

Kissed a girl: yes, see above

Gotten tattoos: yep! they have two large pieces from before being arrested and negotiated into joining the alliance. they start under the jaw and both sides of the neck, going across the shoulders, along and down the arms, coming to an end on the forearms, and they shelled out for that fancy ink, that’s a little bit holographic/iridescent, where the colors would shift and glint in the light as they moved. obviously they’re gone when miranda rebuilds mercy, but they’re absolutely still around in the sports coach au 

Gotten piercings: had a handful of ear piercings as a teen, but has mostly stopped wearing them, for practical reasons 

Been in love: falling in love for the first time 

Stayed up for more than 24 hours: oh lmao yes for sure 

Are They-

A virgin: not anymore babeyyyyy

A cuddler: with people they are very close to

A kisser: oh yeah, big time. really into it now

Scared easily: nope! if anything, has adrenaline junkie tendencies 

Jealous easily: nah. sometimes when they were a teen growing up on the streets, but not anymore

Dominant: in bed? still figuring things out there. maybe sometimes. in life? they’re not domineering, but will shout people down if it comes to it

Submissive: also still figuring that out in bed ;) absolutely not in other situations tho. if theyre being submissive theyre usually up to something 

In love: learning what its like 

Single: not once mercy realizes what they’re feeling for thane (there was a lot of facepalming from kasumi and frustrated yelling on this one)

Random Questions (tw for self harm/suicide mention)-

Have they harmed themselves: i mean, through some of their harebrained, reckless ideas where the possibility of getting hurt is assured but they don’t care, yes

Thought of suicide: maybe a little, after akuze

Attempted suicide: no

Wanted to kill someone: oh absolutely homie

Have / had a job: yeah, pulling peoples heads outta asses

Have any fears: oh for sure, mind control and zombies, and even though now they know how to kill one down absolutely dead--thresher maws 

Family

Sibling(s): none, but kasumi is basically one

Parent(s): unknown. they had some foster parents (adoption was never approved) that offered mercy some important years of shelter

Children: no biological kids. but they feel powerfully parental feelings for grunt, jack and tali. kolyat and oriana too, eventually. in sports coach au though (more details to follow soon), jack is theirs. after akuze they got on the scent of cerberus early, and therefore busted down pragia while jack was still a lil kid, who pretty much imprinted on mercy

Significant other: thane, and in sports coach au, irikah + thane

Pet(s): their fish. they’ve got names like hand roll, don and chip

[robininthelabyrinth]

If it's not a plot point, how did HuiSang go back in time? MingJue used his saber as an anchor, but HuaiSang didn't have his yet?

part 3 of Same River Twice (ao3) (time travel Nie bros) or tumblr part 1, part 2

-

Being four years old again was a lot harder than Nie Huaisang thought it would be.

In fairness, he hadn’t expected to go back that far, but he supposed it wasn’t really up to him – if he’d wanted to have more control over his destination, he should have used the ritual on the saber that belonged to him. 

But Aituan - dear Aituan, good Aituan, his Aituan - wasn’t strong enough to support the ritual by itself, not after all those years of playing happy paperweight instead of cultivating. It was Nie Huaisang’s neglect; he had let Aituan’s spirit grow kind but not strong, because someone should be able to be that way, the way he’d once thought he himself could be under his brother’s protection. 

No, Nie Huaisang had known that if he wanted to do this crazy stupid thing, the only one that could help him was Baxia.

Bazia, who had grown strong beyond her years with the blood of evildoers, who had always indulged him, who adored Nie Mingjue more than was usual even for a saber of their bloodline –

He missed Aituan.

After the end of it all, when he no longer needed to hide his true face away behind a mask of incompetence, he had started to carry Aituan with him at all times, the way his brother had always wanted him to, and so that meant that his long-neglected saber had been by his side when he’d knelt before his brother’s tomb to begin the ritual. And when the forbidden array began to tear his body apart, Baxia indifferent to anything but the result, Nie Huaisang could feel his saber’s spirit reaching out and wrapping around his own spirit to protect him from the pain –

He’d thought that he might see Aituan again, when and if he woke up in the past, but it was not to be: right now, he’s only four. Aituan wouldn’t even have been forged yet, surely, or at most its still-unformed spirit would be lingering in a dormant not-yet-finished state in the special forges reserved for the clan, hidden deep within the Unclean Realm.

He missed Aituan. He hadn’t thought he would, given how casually he had always left it behind, but he did; he missed it dreadfully.

But it was still worth it to come back.

It had been worth it even just for the chance to try to come back. They had all been so broken, after everything that had happened. Nie Huaisang had had no choice but to avenge his brother, no choice but to use the only means available to him when no one would have believed him, his own hand too weak to lift the saber to do the job that needed to be done. He was a Nie, when all was said and done, and even the world itself was insufficient a sacrifice to lay before his brother’s memorial tablet.

He did not regret his choices.

And yet – the result, in the end, was too much, too bitter to swallow. Lan Xichen’s eventual death at his own hand, when the guilt became too much for him and seclusion proved no remedy, had destroyed Lan Wangji, and even light-hearted Wei Wuxian had not been able to continue to smile once he realized that the injuries incurred at Guanyin Temple, both physical and mental, had damaged Jiang Cheng permanently, a decline the other man had hidden away out of either love or spite or both until it was too late to fix; they would never reconcile in that life, and the tragedy of the two heroes of Yunmeng sealed forever in stone.

Out of an entire generation of the Great Sects, Nie Huaisang was the only one left standing, and he had been broken into sharp jagged pieces so long ago that he didn’t really count.

He did not regret his choices - but in a better world, those choices would never need to be made.

He would make sure it went better, this time. Not just for himself, but for all the others, and most of all for his brother, who had only ever wanted to be righteous, to fight evil and help the innocent, and who died because nobody had listened to him, just the way they hadn’t listened to Nie Huaisang in all those years of walking alone on his road of vengeance. His brother, who loved him when he hadn’t been worthy of his love; his brother, who deserved the world and more.

His brother, who he sometimes even thought –

There’d been a moment there, when he’d been watching his brother train, that he’d had the crazy idea that Nie Mingjue had come back, too – that the burden of the future was not Nie Huaisang’s alone to bear. 

It had been when his brother had done that maneuver, the one he’d liked so much during the Sunshot Campaign, and Nie Huaisang had been the only living being who had known that the reason he’d trained the trick so hard in his youth was not because it was hard to block or because it granted the mercy of a quick death but rather purely because it looked awesome. Nie Mingjue had thrown his saber and recalled it with a flick of his wrist, and he’d grinned as if he hadn’t a care in the world and –

And that’s when Nie Huaisang ruined it by bursting into tears.

Because he was four, and four year olds didn’t have good internal emotional regulation, apparently. He’d thought at first that it would be an advantage to be so young – who would suspect a child barely old enough to wear proper clothing of scheming in the shadows? – but being four had turned out to be much trickier to manage than he had thought.

All of his feelings were so much, so immediate; it was as if the emotions of an adult were simply too large to fit into his child’s frame. Sadness, however minor or fleeting, was enough to utterly consume him, making rational thought impossible; a single pang of hunger was the same as starvation; and even joy –

His brother abandoned his training for him in a heartbeat, found and gave him a fan to amuse him, carried him around all day in his arms even though it meant he’d had to report for punishment – he said that Nie Huaisang would never be a burden to him, that he could live the life he wanted, no matter what, and that in the end his brother would always be there to hold up the world for him –

No, his brother couldn’t have come back in time with him.

His suspicions (surely even a talent of Nie Mingjue’s caliber wouldn’t have learned a trick like that so early, and so well?) simply had no basis in reality, a remnant of the paranoia he had cultivated in his heart as a guard against Jin Guangyao’s treachery. It was only Nie Huaisang’s fantasies tricking him, letting him dream that he was hearing the words that he would have given his left arm to hear when it was too late.

After all, none of the things Nie Mingjue had said were by themselves unusual – even by age four, everyone knew that Nie Huaisang wouldn’t amount to much of a talent, born as he was with weak muscle tone and barely any cultivation at all; they knew he was lazy and unmotivated, and more than likely to turn out to be nothing more than a good-for-nothing. Only Nie Mingjue had remained steadfast in believing that Nie Huaisang could make something of himself, valuing him when he hadn’t even valued himself.

No, it wasn’t so strange that his brother would say such things to him. It was only with Nie Huaisang’s knowledge of the future that the words seemed to be more than mere encouragement, that they seemed to be aimed directly at absolving him of his future worthlessness, forgiving him for having been the anchor around his brother’s legs instead of a support –

His brother couldn’t have come back with him. He couldn’t have, because if he knew what Nie Huaisang had done in his name, all those dirty tricks in the dark that were just like what he’d so disdained in Jin Guangyao, then he wouldn’t have said those words full of love, wouldn’t have thought them, wouldn’t have –

Nie Mingjue must never know, Nie Huaisang swore once again in his heart. He’d be careful, hide his tracks, make sure that his moves in the shadow couldn’t be detected by anyone at all; his brother that longed to be righteous would never need to know that his little didi that he treasured so much wasn’t worthy of his love.

He’d fix things, make them better, and Nie Mingjue would never know that things had ever gone any other way. Nie Huaisang would bear the burden alone, just as he had those many years, but this time he would have his brother by his side.

It would be worth it.  

Still, being four was hard. Nie Huaisang had started making moves right away, but his ability to manipulate people seemed to be significantly impaired �� or maybe it was only that he’d underestimated the effect of his changes, that he’d acted before he’d fully figured out everyone’s personalities, and so ended up changing things more than he meant to.

For one thing, he’d never meant for Nie Mingjue to be the one to go to Yingchuan.

Nie Huaisang had used Wei Wuxian for his own purposes in his previous life, and he wouldn’t have been able to avenge his brother without him – he owed him karma, and such debts ought to be repaid as swiftly as possible. He’d figured that sending some Nie sect retainers to the area would be a good way to do that; even if they couldn’t save his parents, they should at least notice that there was a little boy in town waiting for his parents to come back from a night-hunt. At best, Nie Huaisang had figured on Wei Wuxian having a few extra years at the Lotus Pier, and maybe avoid developing that dog phobia of his.

He hadn’t expected Nie Mingjue to volunteer to go, though he supposed his brother was twelve, and therefore reckless and a little bit stupid in a way that Nie Huaisang probably shouldn’t find as adorable as he did, being only four himself. He definitely wasn’t expecting his brother to come back and tell him that he’d not only managed to save Wei Wuxian’s parents but that they were coming to Qinghe for some reason.

That was his brother in a nutshell, though. Typical overachiever.

Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure exactly how this would change things. He hadn’t intended on making such large changes, as it would swiftly render his knowledge of the future useless, but on the other hand, the future had turned out quite so badly, and after all in the end he knew the important things. He knew who was a good person and who wasn’t, he knew about the war that would come, he knew what tricks to be afraid of – no, it was better this way.

This way, he wouldn’t be tempted to blindly rely on a future that might change; this way, he wouldn’t risk the same future happening again, wouldn’t allow tragedies to take place when they didn’t have to. Instead, he’d do what he’d always done and react to things as they happened, turning each event to his own advantage.

Even if he wasn’t quite sure what possible advantage he could get from Wei Wuxian as a young child.

“Is it nice there?”

Nie Huaisang refocused and looked at his brother, who’d apparently finished his training for the day. It was so strange to see him with cheeks still rounded by lingering baby fat and Baxia disproportionate in her size; if he hadn’t later grown into a giant, he would have been seen as having been a bit too ambitious when he wielded her. “What was that, da-ge?”

“I asked you if it’s nice there,” Nie Mingjue repeated as he settled down next to Nie Huaisang in the shady part of the training field. “Wherever it is that your mind flew off to. It must be very interesting to keep you occupied for so long.”

Nie Huaisang ignored the teasing and immediately wiggled over, putting his head in his brother’s lap. His brother indulged him, moving Baxia to his other knee as he inspected her for any nicks that might need to be sharpened out later.

His brother always indulged him.

“I was just daydreaming,” he said, and it was even mostly true. The line between daydreaming and active scheming was a very fine one.

“Still thinking about maps?” his brother asked. “I know I said you were too young to take the ones out of the library, but maybe we can go to the market to buy some cheaper ones…”

Nie Huaisang shook his head, feeling guilty. He didn’t really need a map. After all, a map couldn’t tell him what he needed to know: he couldn’t be sure that Meng Yao was in Yunping City right now, even though that was ultimately where he ended up. And anyway, even with a map, it was impossible for him to find a way to go there now, as a four year old – he could do many things by mail without being noticed, but even he couldn’t think of a way to mail order a whore and her son – and even a cheap map was an expensive purchase for a twelve year old with a limited allowance.

“I just like thinking about other places, that’s all,” he temporized. “You went to Yingchaun – what was that like?”

“It’s not too far beyond our borders, so it was mostly the same, I guess?” Nie Mingjue said, sounding a little helpless. “Same animals, plants, weather…they say the further that way you go, the spicier the food, but we must not have gone far enough, since I didn’t notice a difference.”

“What about the people?” Nie Huaisang said, deciding to try to get more information about Wei Wuxian instead since he already knew that asking Nie Mingjue to act as a travelogue was an exercise doomed to frustration. “You said someone from Yingchuan was coming – are they from the sect there?”

“The sect – Yingchuan Wang? Certainly not. They’re barely a sect as it is; they were servants in Qishan once, but then either got thrown out or left in a huff and now they eke out an existence as a medium-sized fish in a small pond. They send their children to be servants in Qishan whenever they can manage it, and still ask for help from us on the sly because they can’t afford to deal with their problems themselves. No one of note there.”

That wasn’t entirely true, Nie Huaisang thought; after all they had produced the horror that was Wang Lingjiao. He wonder if there was some way to make use of her. She was about their age, and she hadn’t yet committed any of the atrocities she later would. Of course, one did need to account for the trouble that was her personality…

“– sure you’ll like him,” Nie Mingjue was saying, and then he grimaced. “It’s his parents I don’t quite know what to do with.”

Nie Huaisang sympathized more than Nie Mingjue would ever realize. Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren had excellent reputations as cultivators, but beyond that he knew nothing about them but their son – they were wild cards, their impact on the state of play totally unpredictable.

“Father has charged me with taking care of them while they’re here, because I’m the one who invited them,” Nie Mingjue said, and reached up to rub the space between his brows the way he always did when he was stressed. “It’s not like we’re doing anything special with them – they’re just guest cultivators, not joining the sect – but at the same time…I don’t want to make a bad impression.”

He didn’t say whether it was on their guests or on their father.

A moment later, he nudged Nie Huaisang a little. “You’ll help me, right?”

Nie Huaisang would burn the world down for his brother.

However, practically speaking, he was currently four.

“Of course, da-ge,” he said. “How can I help? What can I do?”

“You,” Nie Mingjue said with satisfaction, “can be a subject of conversation.”

Nie Huaisang had the distinct feeling that what his brother meant was that he planned to throw him to be a cute child at their guests every time the conversation hit an awkward point, but surely he wouldn’t –

It was exactly what he did.

Nie Huaisang really wished he could blame this on his brother being twelve, but honestly his brother had always been a little like that.  He’d only ever gotten away with his terrible social skills and even more terrible sense of humor because he was tall as a mountain, with a reputation for being taciturn (in large part due to his following the rule of “if you have nothing good to say, say nothing”), and of course there was always Baxia adding some intimidation effect.

It was a bit of a start to realize that in some ways, the Headshaker had been better at some of the parts of being Sect Leader than his beloved older brother.

It was not, however, a realization that Nie Huaisang had a lot of time to dwell on, because he had Wei Wuxian to deal with – and if he’d thought that the other boy was a handful when they were teenagers, it was nothing compared to him as a small excitable child visiting a new place for the first time.

Some things Nie Huaisang had expected: Wei Wuxian was bright, lively, intelligent to the point of brilliance, talented at whatever he picked up, and at all times inclined towards mischief.

He hadn’t, for some reason, expected the overwhelming hyperactive curiosity about – everything.

Wei Wuxian was five years old, really five, and he had some interesting gaps in his knowledge base. 

Complicated talisman craftsmanship? No problem. 

How to buy paper in the marketplace? No clue.

The particulars of setting up camp in the middle of a forest? No problem.

How to deal with servants? No clue. 

He could guide himself at night using constellations, but he couldn’t name all five Great Sects; he could cook for himself but didn’t know how to order food from a restaurant; he could sing songs but he’d never played catch-me or hide-and-seek; he could play bait for a vicious yao but had never met a cat –

That last one was a bit of a problem, since the Unclean Realm had a bit of a stray cat problem.

Well, it wasn’t a problem at the moment, since Wei Wuxian loved the cats, but it was going to be a problem when one inevitably tried to claw his face off when he tried to pet them more than they felt like accepting.

It’d probably end up being Nie Huaisang’s problem, too, since Wei Wuxian liked to stick to him no matter where he went – or rather, he liked to stick to him, follow him around, get bored, and drag him off to do something else. Usually something childish (understandable, since he was a child), and extremely distracting from what Nie Huaisang should be focusing on.

…a great deal of fun, though.

Nie Huaisang’s initial fondness for Wei Wuxian had, he would admit, been primarily nostalgic in nature, but it wasn’t very long before the other boy swept him away with all the same things that he’d enjoyed back in the Cloud Recesses: he was spirited, witty, and clever, a bundle of trouble and inventor of adventures, and he made even the most boring things a lot more interesting.

They ran around the Unclean Realm, pretending to be explorers who happened upon a mysterious realm; they went to the market and bought one of every treat; they volunteered to feed the ducks and pigs and chickens; they pretended to be vicious beasts and practiced their prowling and hunting on long-suffering Nie disciples; they climbed trees and crawled around the caves; they made their way into the laundry and tried on everyone’s clothing –

At any rate, Nie Huaisang had always been lazy and carefree by nature, and old habits were hard to resist. He was still young enough that most of his day was free and excess training was discouraged to avoid distorting his musculature, and well, he was four. Everything was funny to a four year old.

Funny, and very distracting.

Still, it couldn’t go on forever. He had scheming to do.

“Da-ge,” he whined, taking advantage of his current size to crawl into his brother’s lap. “Da-ge, he’s always around.”

“Says the one who’s leading him into trouble half the time.”

“Da-ge! I don’t! He’s the one doing the leading!”

His brother smiled. “Is a leader the one at the front of the battlefield or the one whispering plans into his ears?”

“…they’re only my idea about half the time. At most.”

Nie Mingjue laughed. “If he’s really bothering you, I can talk to his parents.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Nie Huaisang said quickly. He still didn’t know what to make of Wei Wuxian’s parents.

He’d tried studying them with an eye towards what he knew about Wei Wuxian as an adult, but the resemblance was blurry at best. Wei Changze was a gentleman, talented and charming; he always had a smile on his face, his eyes curved a little as if he was always laughing at some internal joke, and more often than not there was something lighthearted on his lips – there was definitely something of the future Wei Wuxian there. But it would be wrong to think of them as too similar: unlike his son, Wei Changze was prudent and thoughtful, contemplative almost the point of being reserved, cognizant of the dangerous undercurrents that made up sect politics; he wasn’t arrogant, and that made him nothing like Wei Wuxian at all.

No, the arrogance was all from Cangse Sanren.

She was a fierce woman, teeth bared whether in smile or grimace and hand often lingering by the whip tucked into her belt, somehow seeming both straightforward and yet mysterious – intense, arrogant, uncaring of all convention, she would let nothing in the world stand between her and her principles.

Nie Mingjue liked her on sight, of course.

Nie Huaisang was a bit more worried about the way she sometimes remarked about the ridiculousness of human law, usually during one of the enthusiastic philosophical discussions she’d been having with Nie Mingjue during their occasional spars – Nie Huaisang supervised only once, then realized that four-year-olds shouldn’t be worrying about their blood pressure and also that Cangse Sanren was probably good enough to not murder an over-enthusiastic twelve-year-old in the middle of his own sect. He’d mentioned it subtly over breakfast at one point, but that’d only gotten Nie Mingjue started up with their father about the differences between human and natural law when what Nie Huaisang had actually meant was that he wasn’t entirely sure Cangse Sanren thought of herself as a human.

She also had a way of sometimes looking at Nie Huaisang with a strange sort of smile, as if she knew, and ever since then Nie Huaisang had avoided her as much as possible.

“Well, if you don’t want him bothering you all the time, and you don’t want me to talk to his parents about it, what do you want to do?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“I just think he needs other friends,” Nie Huaisang said earnestly, widening his eyes in a way that made his brother look deeply unimpressed (but also amused). “Maybe someone at a different sect, so he can spend time writing them letters.”

Not that Wei Wuxian was especially proficient at writing, which made sense for his age, but Nie Huaisang had rather a lot invested in having managed to convince Nie Mingjue that his level of writing (full words!) was normal.

“Letters,” Nie Mingjue said, looking deeply skeptical. “Who were you thinking?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nie Huaisang lied. “Someone our age. Probably from another of the major sects, since he still needs to learn all about the way the cultivation world works…oh, I know! How about the Lan sect? Don’t they have a second young master right around our age?”

He wasn’t being very subtle, he had to admit, but practically speaking, who cared? There wasn’t anyone around to catch him at it.

And it would be truly a pity to rob Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian of their chance for an epic romance - hopefully one that would end a little more happily.

His brother frowned thoughtfully. Probably searching his memory for confirmation, since it was still another year before he met Lan Xichen for the first time, but in the end he nodded. “That’s not a bad idea. The Lan sect is known for their rules and etiquette, and that’s precisely what Wei Wuxian requires most, and he’ll definitely get along well with Lan Wangji. I’ll write to – no, I’ll speak with Father; if he approves, we may be able to set up a meeting. It wouldn’t be a bad thing to foster relations between our sects at an early age.”

“That’s a great idea!” Nie Huaisang said. It was, too – maybe he could knock some caution into Lan Xichen’s head when he was still young enough to appreciate it. “And maybe we can visit Gusu one day!”

“You and your maps,” Nie Mingjue teased. “All right, all right; I’ll see what I can do the next time Father’s back.”

There was a wrinkle in his brow at that, which Nie Huaisang couldn’t blame him for it: their father was extremely busy at the moment, off dealing with Qishan aggression, and that meant they only ever saw him occasionally, and even then only at breakfast. It must be uncomfortable for Nie Mingjue, who loved their father dearly, and for Nie Huaisang, well…

He’d been back in this old body for a month now, adjusting slowly, and the one thing he couldn’t quite deal with was their father, as he was now: a good man, as temperamental as any Nie but in the main part thoughtful and steady.

Nothing like the monster he remembered.

It wasn’t fair to judge a man by what he was like following a deliberately induced qi deviation, Nie Huaisang reminded himself, just as he’d learned not to blame his brother for the lashings of his worsening temper during that period of spiritual poison. And yet – Nie Huaisang truly didn’t know what he’d do when the busy period subsided and his father came back to help guide their training.

He just didn’t remember what it was like to have a father instead of just a da-ge.

Something to worry about in the future.

For now, though, he had a pair of future lovebirds to introduce – and connections with another sect to build, so as to better gather support for the upcoming war.

Still, contrary to his expectations, the Lan sect weren’t their first visitors.

It was the Jiang.

[vicecityhq]

██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...

WITNESS(ES) SAY HE REMINDS THEM OF: autumn, forestpunk, cottagegore, darkest academia . With a slight resemblance to PAKORN THANASRIVANITCHAI of/the ACTOR.

CLICK BELOW TO VIEW ENTIRE FILE.

FULL FILE:

Last Name, First Name: Suwannarat, Briar Alias: Pan (codename for his job), Ari (more of a nickname than an alias) Realm of birth (if earth, nationality): Earth realm, Thailand Age: 29 Date of Birth: November 23rd Gender: Male Preferred Pronouns: He/Him Species: Children of the Twelve - Sagittarius Occupation: Police Detective Sexual Orientation: Homosexual

VISUAL FILE: 

Skin Color: Tanned, burnt orange hue with a smattering of chocolate freckles along his face. He has the same freckles throughout his body, but has bigger white spots along his shoulders, the backs of his ears, and his outer hips. Eye color: Honey Brown Scars: None that have a significant story Piercings: None Tattoos: None Hair color: Dark chocolate brown Abnormalities: Fawn-like ears Horns/ wings/ etc: Small, stumpy antlers that stick just above his hair Transformed form: He does not have a transformation.

PERSONAL FILE:

RELIGIOUS BELIEF: Agnostic, but was raised Buddhist SINS:  greed  /  gluttony  /  sloth  /  lust  /  pride  /  envy  /  wrath VIRTUES: chastity  /  charity  /  diligence  /  humility /  kindness /  patience /  justice KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Thai, Latin SECRETS: Teen romance can be rough, right? It’s like two colliding whirlwinds of emotions, hormones, and desires. One minute you’re together, the next you’re broken up for no reason. Now when that volatility is coupled with doubts about sexuality, it’s just a disaster waiting to happen. Most people didn’t accidentally melt half of their boyfriend’s face off and cause him to have to undergo grueling, expensive reconstructive surgery that would never quite make things right, though. Briar had told him the gloves had to stay on, but kids were reckless and foolishly believed in their own infallibility so it didn’t take much convincing to risk it all for some skin on skin. Then next thing they knew, Briar was babbling some half brained excuse about a science experiment gone wrong while his boyfriend’s blood curdling screams echoed in his ears. It was believably enough… until a month after - when the swelling from some of his injuries went down - his former lover was able to unintelligibly mutter “Briar did it.” Then suddenly an ‘accident’ turned into a full scale investigation of malicious intent. All Briar could do was tell the truth. He didn’t know which was more difficult - coming clean about his powers or coming out of the closet. But the officer sitting across from him and his distraught mother in the cramped interrogation room didn’t seem particularly disturbed by the confession. His bushy brows only furrowed in disappointment over the entire situation. In the end, Briar was only charged with obstruction of justice for initially lying to police, but the damage to his reputation was irreparable. His mother decided it would be best to relocate, which is how Briar came to finish his last years of high school in Agdoeg.

SAVVIES: hiking, gardening, camping, sightseeing, investigative work, problem solving, riddles and puzzles.

Powers & Abilities: Zodiac Empowerment (Sagittarius: enhanced accuracy, vision, tracking), Zodiac Physiology (see above appearance), Animal (deer) Spirit Summoning, Fthinóporokinesis (Autumn manipulation), Rot Inducement/Decaying Touch, Body Part Erosion, Luck, Evolution Manipulation, Supernatural Bowmanship.

Traits: (positive) Determined, intelligent, neat freak, health conscious, animal lover, usually down to earth, assertive, responsible, (negative) Sarcastic, impatient, untrusting, can have a temper when someone pushes him too far, distant, prioritizes work over everything else.

BACKGROUND CHECK:

Date of Birth: November 23rd

Date of Death: N/A

Crime Record: Most would assume someone has to have a clean slate to enter law enforcement, but that would leave slim pickings in a city like Agdoeg. Briar doesn’t have any outstanding criminal record, but he did have a couple of dings on his juvenile one that were expunged once he became a legal adult and, therefore, they can no longer be found in most databases.

Background/Biography

(tw miscarriage, tw immaculate conception by some strange god XD, tw domestic disputes, tw divorce) 

 Briar’s parents had been struggling to conceive a child for many years, since their prompt marriage right out of secondary school. These sweet hearts had longed to have a cookie cutter life and family, but fate seemed to inhibit that every step of the way. His mother have seven miscarriages due to the condition of an incompetent cervix and was told many times that she may never be able to carry a child to full term. This had been devastating news to the couple, who had no means of affording everything that went into surrogacy and were now facing the reality that they may never be able to have their own children. In spite of these odds, though, they kept trying and praying that whatever Gods that were out there might grant them a miracle.

Their prayers never seemed to be answered, though, and this put an understandable strain on their marriage. It was when his mother was thirty three and beginning to lose hope that she was plagued by a strange dream. She was floating in a vast emptiness, unable to move or even scream. This might have terrified someone else, but she somehow felt safe blanketed in the darkness. It was as if the entire universe lay bare before her, starlight dancing between her outstretched fingertips. Except she didn’t have fingers. She didn’t even have a physical body. There was a sense that she had become a part of something greater or perhaps been broken down into a form akin to what they had all been before the universe collided together in some cosmic firework show to create all that they knew. After what seemed like an eternity if time even passed in that world, the stars began to slowly take shape before her, pulled together by gravity or some other force she would never quite understand. As they converged, the light became so bright that it was nearly blinding, but she was space dust so how could she look away? She remembers trying to rationalize it with that absurd thought as the light shifted around her and the sound of harps and a heavenly chorus interrupted the sacred stillness that she’d been immersed in until then. Heralding the coming of something… or someone. The light came together at the peak of the crescendo, shapeless but she somehow got the sense of a shapely figure wrapped in a gown the longer she stared into it. This motherly figure bent over her and she recalled the warmth as its tendrils of light stroked over her cheek before urging her mouth open. In that moment, she didn’t feel any sense of unease as the being urged her to partake of its light. It traveled past her lips and through every corner of her being, rushing into her fingertips and even the ends of her hair. It was the first time since being in that plane that she had any sense of where she ended and the rest of the world began. The last thing she remembered was that light condensing, forming into its own little star in the lower part of her abdomen and radiating such soothing warmth…

Then she woke up and that was the first time she really had any sense of unease about the strange dream. As someone who had experienced how odd dreams could get during pregnancy, though, she took it as a good sign. Sure enough, when she took a test three weeks later, she was pregnant! Unlike prior, when she’d lost her children around the three month mark, this child was growing strong and without the complications she always worried about. Everything seemed to finally be falling into place. Their marriage and hope in the future was revitalized! And after nine months of perhaps the most physical and emotional pain she had ever been in in her entire life, she was welcoming a beautiful, healthy baby boy into the world and never once thought about the unsettling dream at the start of it all.

Admittedly, Briar was certainly a unique baby. His ears had always been a little odd since birth - bigger than usual - but his parents figured he would just grow into them and found it one of his most endearing traits. However, when he was three years old, that’s when his antlers started coming in. His mother found them one night when she was reading him a bedtime story and running her fingers through his unruly mop of wavy hair. Understandably, she freaked out and brought him to the doctor the next day, who took a biopsy and found the strange growths to primarily be made of calcium. It was unusual, but they decided to simply keep an eye on it since it seemed harmless enough. They only became more noticeable as the years went by, poking through his hair, and Briar recalls the Chinese Buddhists of his neighborhood always telling his mother it was a sign of good fortune. At the time, Briar had always thought it was annoying how they’d always want to lay their hands on him, but he realized as he’d gotten older that they believed the cow was Guanyin’s reincarnated father and the stubby little nubs atop his head made them think he was blessed. But horns and antlers are two different things - one being keratinous and, the other, bone - but he supposed it was easy to confuse them at first glance. Going into adolescence, those things grew like crazy. As if puberty and having velvety twigs growing on your head wasn’t stressful enough, that was when Briar first noticed his parents beginning to drift apart. One night, when coming home late from a friend’s house, he overheard a heated argument between them in the kitchen and his father’s accusations would forever be etched into his mind... “You thought you could trick me forever? I don’t know who knocked you up, but I can’t pretend that thing is my son!” The words drove through him like a knife. Yet after the initial shock subsided, Briar felt for the first time that all the little confusing pieces he’d chosen to overlook his entire life began to make sense. At first his parents had simply assumed he’d taken on more features of his mother, but his father had begun to grow distant as his otherworldly features and powers emerged. The reality was that two humans couldn’t possibly have made a half-deer-whatever-he-was and the only logical explanation was that he wasn’t his father’s at all. He only wished he’d come to that conclusion sooner instead of deluding himself and becoming foolishly attached to the man… The divorce was relatively swift. The judge didn’t even demand a paternity test when his father rebuked having to pay child support. All he had to do was look across the courtroom and he could tell that the speckled, big eared, horned child standing there wasn’t his. It was a dirty, unjust move that besmirched his mother as a disloyal wife and watching her go through that emotional rollercoaster was perhaps the toughest thing of the whole ordeal. Thirteen year old Briar comforted her through the fits of tears and had a strong upper lip when she insisted that she’d never betrayed his father… What bothered him the most was that he couldn’t believe her, but he also couldn’t be angry or blame her either. He had always been closer with his mother and he promised her in those moments of weakness that he would always take care of her. Of course, a single mother with a bad reputation was not an easy gig when trying to support a family. They were forced to move from their smaller town into the teeming metropolis of Bangkok for her to find work and Briar was honestly quite happy with leaving the past behind him. He thrived in the city with its far more diverse population. No one looked at him like he was a freak when he rode the bus or went to buy groceries. It was the first time he felt like he could truly be himself. He had his fair share of rough patches, just like any hormonal teenager, but having otherworldly powers and no one to teach you how to use them certainly caused a few catastrophic, social life obliterating faux pas. His mother thankfully was able to transfer within her company to the Agdoeg branch. It meant not only relocating in the middle of high school for Briar, but moving to an entirely new country. The level of diversity and integration of the supernatural community within Agdoeg was even better than what he’d experienced before. They were in government, owned small businesses… But not all of them were reputable or honest. Briar quickly learned that there were parts of the city that he shouldn’t venture to if he knew what was good for him. However, in spite of the seedier things going on in the underbelly, he was able to find a youth center which helped him to get a better handle on his powers and met his role model who would eventually lead him into his career as a police officer.

INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer

Briar squeezed his eyes shut tight in an attempt to chase away the spots dancing across his vision from the overbearing fluorescent bulbs that bore down on the table in the center of the interrogation room. It was so intense that he could hear the hum of the electricity going to it and, somehow, he mentally processed that before the weight of the officer’s words. Words he’d uttered himself many times when the roles were flipped. Normally, this was the point a smart suspect would clam up and demand to talk to a lawyer, but clearly this was some kind of joke and he’d just missed the punchline. “Ha. Ha! Very funny.” He gruffed, devoid of amusement as he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose to ward off the pounding headache settling in like someone was playing the bass drum behind his eyeballs.

The precinct had all been out drinking the night before, celebrating closing a case that had been busting their proverbial balls for the last six months, and there was a point after countless shots of tequila that Briar didn’t even know what was up and what was down, let alone why they were even there anymore. Now, he didn’t doubt that many profoundly stupid things had fallen from his lips and been done, but he hardly would have thought it would be anything illegal. Officers protected their own and someone less inebriated surely would have stopped him before he did anything he’d regret. Trying to wrack his brain, Briar bent to press his forehead to the cool metal of the table with a pitious groan. He remembered waking up in one of the cells to the sound of the door noisily being opened and before he could even get his bearings, two uniformed men were hauling him up and dragging him down the hallway toward the room he sat in now. None of it made a lick of sense.

“I’m afraid this isn’t a joke, Officer Suwannarat. Something very serious happened tonight and we need you to tell us why.”

The brutally stern voice sobered Briar up really quick and he lifted his head up from the table to narrow his eyes on the man that sat across from him, his fawn-like ears flicking in annoyance. He’d worked on the force for many years now and he wasn’t about to be hassled by some nameless rookie who was probably forced in here by his supervising officer, like a lamb being pushed into a cage with a bear. “Listen- no. What is going on?” He demanded with surprising eloquence for someone who’s tongue felt like a dried up sponge in his mouth. Drunk drought be damned. “Am I under arrest? ‘Cause if I am, you better tell me the charges or else I’m walking right out that door and finding your commanding off-”

What was likely going to be a memorable tirade was cut short as the door to the interrogation room swung open and a handful of officers poured into the small space like salmon all fighting to spawn upstream. All Briar could do was stare wide eyed where he was glued to his seat and watch with no small amount of mortification while a cake was set in front of him with messy lettering iced on top that read ‘Congrats on your Promotion! Now you’re their problem.’ Feeling the mixture of rage and bewilderment quickly begin to ebb away, the corners of Briar’s lips twitched into a crooked smile and he shook his head in exasperation. “You’re fucking kidding me. Who’s terrible idea was this?” He demanded with a mirthless laugh as he deflated back into the hard metal chair and glanced around at the familiar faces of the men and women he’d worked with for the past ten years. God, how had he survived their crazy antics and made it this far?

“What do you mean? We had to give you a memorable send-off.” His partner mounted his defense and slunk out from the crowd to give Briar an encouraging clap on the shoulder. “Besides, do you know how hard it was to carry your heavy ass into the cell to pull this off? The least you could do was say thank you. Geez. Too good for us already, Detective?”

Briar should thank him. That much he’d already mentally concluded. But shoving his partner’s smug face into the cake was also a tempting option. Instead, he reached up to gently pat the other’s hand with his gloved one. “Never.” He assured him gently before a chorus of obnoxious coos from the peanut gallery made sure to not only kill the moment but beat it once it was down. Pushing himself up from the chair, Briar swayed unsteadily and shamelessly grappled a couple of his friends for balance on his route to the door. “Ugh. Alright, get me out of this room before I literally end someone and get stuck here forever. That cake better be chocolate, I swear-”

[priorireverte]

Congratulations Ash!

Your application for Katie Bell has been accepted. Katie is a character I’ve rarely given much thought, frankly, but I’ve completely fallen in love with her already. You’ve given her so much depth and involved her so closely in everything that is happening. I can’t wait to see what she gets up to!

Please look to the checklist for the next steps and reach out if you have any questions!

OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME & PRONOUNS: Ash, she/her.

TIMEZONE: PST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I reckon I am about a six or seven out of ten. I am constantly on mobile and accessible for plotting, but prefer to do all of my replies once I am home from work and have access to a computer.

ANYTHING ELSE: I have ten plus years role-playing experience and I am looking forward to this amazing opportunity to potentially write Katie again for the first time in years. She was one of the first characters I ever wrote in the Harry Potter world and holds a very special place in my heart.

CHARACTER DETAILS

NAME: Katherine Emery Bell ( Katie Bell )

BIRTHDATE: 21 April, 1978.

DEATHDATE: 10 October, 1997 N/A, still alive and kicking.

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Katie is a cisfemale who uses she/her pronouns. She is bisexual, as she was taught to love and embrace everyone for who they were at a young age. It doesn’t matter what they are; she only weighs who they are inside.

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood.

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor.

OCCUPTATION: Unspeakable, Death Chamber.

FACECLAIM: Poppy Drayton, though I might want to switch if accepted / after having some time to sleep on it.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND

POSTBELLUM

Like many, Katie too has scars from the war. They are weighted far heavier than she cares to admit and she carries them with her everywhere. In the pocket of her favorite cloak, tightly wrapped around her not just for warmth, but security too; on her broomstick whenever she needs to escape from the static background noise; or to one of her best mate’s houses where she is sure to find relief at the bottom of a shared bottle of fire-whiskey.

Katie shies away from intimacy’s pervasive touch. She does not give her trust away so freely like she once did as a carefree girl. Every instinct to share a piece of herself and love others is met with restraint. These are a few of the repercussions she faces because of the damage inflicted on her. She has been to a dark place; tethered between the realms of life and death while being neither here nor there. She clawed her way back to stable ground, though there are times she questions its permanence. In fact, if anything the war has taught her everything is fleeting. Now she leaves claw marks on everything, but can’t seem to hold onto any of it.

Practically everyone she knows has been touched in some way by the war; some of their scars running far deeper than her own. She lost friends and a part of herself, but many had it off far worse. Katie tries not to linger on her own pain and psychological trauma for that reason. At the end of the day, she survived; the heart beating in her chest confirms she is alive despite sometimes feeling anything but.

Since the war came to pass five years ago ( though at times it feels like a separate lifetime ago ), Katie has channeled her experiences and emotions into molding a successful career as an Unspeakable where she works in the Death Chamber. Since her brush with death at seventeen, Katie found herself unusually fascinated with the subject matter. She spent six months hospitalized in St. Mungo’s, a majority of which she was at what felt like death’s door. She swore she did die, but that was a difficult pill for her to swallow—let alone anyone else, so she kept that secret sealed tightly under lock and key. Katie figured that was the better alternative than being labeled crazy.

It took a long time for her to cope with what occurred, and even longer to bring up the occurrence with those closest to her. Being cursed certainly had its affects; it changed who she was and what made her tick. When she returned to Hogwarts and participated in the final quidditch match of her school-career against Ravenclaw, the game did not give her the same adrenaline filled rush it once had. She unknowingly battled depression and PTSD that year struggling to hold onto all the things she loved. They no longer provided her with sustenance, but she confused these arbitrary feelings with lackluster consequences from a progressive war with what felt like no end insight.

PERSONALITY

As a girl, Katie was known for being carefree and reckless. She was an untamed spirit who had not yet learned about the world’s cruelness. She had no reason then to be the emotionally guarded woman she would become. The final years of the war forced her to grow up much sooner than she ever planned for herself. Her overly-competitive demeanor was combated by a sudden instability. Trust no longer comes as easily for her as it once did. When she was imperiused during her last year of school and subsequently cursed by the Opal Necklace, she felt like she lost a part of herself. She no longer enjoyed many of the same hobbies she once did. She questioned everything, from the motives of her friends to the intricacies of life. She was no longer left in control, but instead reeling with trust issues in the present day—the most concerning being the lack of trust she feels in herself. It is an unspoken feeling, but it looms above her like a dark cloud.

Since being cursed, Katie has been keenly inept at desensitizing and disassociating from reality whenever it doesn’t fit perfectly in the box she has crafted for it. The war left her jaded and its scars provided an unwanted resilience she transformed into armor. She has survived many battles, but even the ones she lost were never for naught. They each made her stronger—just a mere fraction of the woman she will become, but still knowingly has many lessons to learn before fully evolving. However, Katie is plagued with self-doubt. Perhaps that is what holds her back from achieving her full potential.

Katie is now far more reserved than she once was. Her desire for love and ability to share it with others has diminished since she was a child, muted by a perverted sense of drive. She has a bad habit of shutting not only the world out, but those closest to her too. It can be a lonely road at times, so she throws herself into her work with hopeless abandon. She is driven and sees every project through to the very end. Ironically though, her never-ending need to answer life’s most challenging questions is exactly what holds her back from living life to the fullest. She has a one track mind and can become so preoccupied, or short-sighted, she forgets to hold onto what is really important.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY

Katie grew up in a happy family with very relaxed core values. Her parents always demonstrated love to her and her brother, Christian, even when they weren’t the most deserving or receptive. Olivia and Rhys Bell loved each other fiercely; that was one consistent factor in Katie’s life. As the youngest Bell in the family of four, she was spoiled and fussed over more than she cares too admit. She recalls all the arguments and tiffs her and Christian got into over the years—a trait that seemed to follow the pair into adulthood. Their parents on the other hand hardly ever fought. Katie believed there must be occasions they clashed with one another, but it was evident they were far more emotionally reserved than their children. They made a point not to fight in front of them, which always raised the question of where their children’s argumentative tendencies came from.

It was important for Olivia and Rhys to make their children feel empowered starting at a young age. They wanted to instill in them a strong sense of confidence that would allow them to break through any obstacles in their way or complete whatever task they set out on. As survivors of the first wizarding wixen war, and Olivia being a muggle-born, it was imperative to them their children didn’t embody the same fear or embrace any limitations as they once did. This nurturing mindset is exactly how Katie got into flying. Her father gifted a toy broomstick to her one Christmas when she was no more than six years old. She can recall the sheer horror on her mother’s face that morning; it was evident she was not in on the surprise, otherwise there probably would have been no broom at all that year. Christian had received one a few years prior and Olivia’s excitement over the matter quickly disintegrated when he lost control and spiraled into their garden trellis. Christian didn’t fly again until his first year lessons, however his sister’s abilities came far more natural than his own.

Once Olivia realized her daughter was more agile than her first born, she quickly warmed up to the idea. After she mastered and eventually outgrew the dainty toy broomstick, it was her mom who splurged for her first trainer’s broom. Katie excitedly whipped the new broom around their property, memorizing every trace of it from the new safe haven she had discovered. Flying became an escape for her. Quidditch always brought much excitement, but flying was what truly made her feel at peace with herself. Over the years she fully mastered the skill ( while running through her fair share of broomsticks ), and Katie knew she had her parents to thank for supporting her in spite of themselves and pushing her forward every time she wanted to quit. Though her quidditch career eventually faded away, her love for flying never wavered as her unconditional love for her parents and brother never has.

Present day, Katie and her family still share a special bond. Her parents continue to support all her endeavors even if they don’t necessarily agree or understand them. At times Katie is aware there is a disconnect between them, but it is something she can’t seem to avoid. Olivia and Rhys witnessed their daughter go from a bubbly and charismatic girl to someone almost unrecognizable at times, but since the war is still so fresh for everyone it has become easier to turn the other cheek.

HISTORY

Katie always considered her life very ordinary. Her parents worked hard to ensure her and her brother had a good life. They were a close-knit family and, though they got on her nerves on occasion, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for them. Katie recalls her childhood fondly. Olivia read books to both her children frequently, however Katie found herself to be easily distracted. Her head would wander to the sky where she would pluck shapes out of the clouds. Christian was the calm and retentive child—it was much easier for their parents to hold his attention. Katie on the other hand was a bumbling ball of energy since she was of crawling age. She would color the walls or demolish Christian’s toys if left unattended. It was much easier to hold her attention whenever baking was involved. Katie had a knack for sweets, though the thought of giving her more sugar didn’t always appeal. Still, she somehow persuaded her mum into baking cookies with her often. These were some of the best days of her childhood.

As soon as Katie was gifted her first toy broomstick, a spark ignited. Flying undoubtedly was her first love. Whenever her and Christian had a sibling squabble or he was getting on her nerves, she would run to her broomstick immediately and take flight; and when it was his time to leave for Hogwarts and she was left behind for three more years, flying became her therapy and release. It remedied the loneliness.

When it was finally time for Katie to head off to Hogwarts, her natural charisma and energetic personality really shined through in all she did. She made friends quickly and they became a forefront in her life. She fed off the energy of those around her and subsequently became a member of numerous school clubs. Joining the Gryffindor quidditch team her second year was the highlight of her entire school-career. She considered those initial years to be the best of all; her original teammates quickly became a second family to her. It was a feeling that still echoed long after their glory days on the quidditch pitch.

When Lord Voldemort returned, Katie found herself at a loss for words. She considered Harry Potter a friend and teammate. No one in her inner circle doubted him nor did she, however she did have a difficult time comprehending just what that meant. Cedric Diggory was also a friend; like many, seeing his body in the aftermath of the Tri-Wizard Tournament was Katie’s first brush with death. It was evident to the then fifteen year old that only something vile and cruel could take the life of someone like Cedric—someone with so much potential. She jumped at the opportunity to join Dumbledore’s Army for that reason. She believed in the cause and, reflecting on the pain the first war put her own parents through, Katie had to believe there was a reason she wound up here when she did.

Katie genuinely did not believe anything could be more difficult than that period of time, but her seventh year was one of the most challenging of all. Katie was not sure when the trip to Hogsmeade went awry on that beautiful fall day. There was excitement in the air despite the frigid temperature that brought the first snowfall of the season. That is one of the only memory’s Katie holds onto from that day. She later woke up in St. Mungo’s where she was told she had been for six months recovering from a fatal curse.

With a hoarse voice and fear filling her eyes, Katie asked the first healer she saw if she was dead.

The healer laughed as if she made some kind of joke. “ No honey, you’re lucky to be alive. ”

Lucky to be alive.

Except the problem was Katie didn’t feel anything, least of all alive. She spent the last six months in a foreign place, but didn’t feel nearly as lost or confused there as she did now that she was back in the earthly dimension.

The phrase continues to haunt her six years after her near-death experience. Maybe the Healer was right and she should feel lucky, but she doesn’t. Now that the war has come to pass, she is riddled with guilt. She cannot walk away from what happened to her six years ago despite making it out of the war alive. That alone should be enough reason to celebrate, but it is not. There are too many unanswered questions and Katie understands better than most who survived the war that everyone is borrowed time. She cannot unsee the place she spent six months of her life trapped in. She is desperate to understand it and even more desperate to know if the souls of her lost friends now inhabit the same space.

OOC EXPLORATION

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

This group captivated my attention immediately upon discovery. The Trio Era is what originally got me into role-playing Harry Potter and the Marauders is what kept me, so this role-play truly is the perfection combination. I have been looking for a group to join for some time now and your group has one of the freshest and most unique concepts I’ve ever seen! Plus, it is obvious the passion and care that has gone into creating this group. I am excited to potentially be a part of the journey and see where the story takes us all together.

EXTRA FOR NON-BIO CHARACTERS

CHARACTER CONTRIBUTION

Katie possesses a lot of versatility with her character. She naturally has an outgoing and charismatic personality, and is quick at adapting to her surroundings. She has always been an integral part of whatever community she is a part of—ranging from her time at Hogwarts on the quidditch team, in the dueling club, or Dumbledore’s Army; to her career beyond the castle’s walls. She has proved herself a loyal friend to many. I think her experience being cursed by the Opal Necklace makes her an imperative character because she has knowledge from that ordeal others might not be equipped with, which she has channeled into a career within the Ministry of Magic as an Unspeakable.

I headcanon that when Katie was cursed by the necklace during her seventh year, she spent a large portion of her time in St. Mungo’s unconscious. During this period she had an out of body experience where she thought she was dead. She tightly holds onto the secret that she visited what may be known to some as limbo, purgatory, or the underworld out of fear of being labelled crazy. She doesn’t dismiss her experience though; she clings to it, and it to effects every aspect of her life.

Katie’s brush with death made her obsessed with the idea of it. Since the war’s conclusion she has tried to dissect the mechanics of life and death, but had no success. Everyday feels the exact same; she is capped out with little to show for her efforts. That is, until the first of the returned makes their appearance through the veil. This ignites a new obsession in Katie all over again.

PRESENT

“ Have you heard? ” A stocky Unspeakable buzzed with excitement as he pushed passed Katie and exited the elevator lift.

“ Heard what? ” The woman quipped in his direction as she rubbed her tired eyes, but by the time she gathered her senses he was already hurrying off down the corridor. Katie shrugged her shoulders back and dismissed the interaction before continuing along in the same direction. Unusual occurrences were the norm in this part of the Ministry so she didn’t think much of it. She was already getting a late start on her day anyway so she decided to quicken her pace as she rounded the corner leading to her dual office/laboratory, where she was forced to stop abruptly when she came across a throng of other Unspeakables littering the hallway. Katie quirked a brow upon the realization everyone was huddled near the Death Chamber.

“ What is going on? ” She asked the same Unspeakable who she spotted standing nearby.

“ You don’t know? ” Emerson gaped, which annoyed Katie slightly. “ They are saying someone has returned through the veil. ”

“ What do you mean ‘returned through the veil?’ I didn’t realize we were trying to send anyone to the other-side— ”

“ No, someone no longer living returned through the veil. They came back from the dead. ”

“ Impossible, ” Katie uttered in protest, but her own near-death experience quickly replayed in her head. She was only seventeen when she swore she too briefly died, so maybe it wasn’t impossible for the dead to return after all.

“ No really, a boy was found wandering the corridors naked this morning. Creevy is what they’re calling him. ”

Katie stood silent for a moment as she processed what she had just been informed. “ Someone came back to life? Through the veil? ” The witch repeated as her dark eyes swirled with sudden intensity. Emerson merely nodded. “ I sure picked a hell of a day to be late. ” She concluded completely gobsmacked.

“ You won’t make that mistake again, ” Emerson chuckled before disappearing off into the crowd to try and sneak a closer look.

And he was right. From that day forward, Katie was never late again. She always put her best foot forward when it came to her career, but the stakes suddenly felt like they had been raised even higher upon the departed’s return. The one thing she now knows for certain is that this might be the only opportunity she has to find answers to the questions that have been tormenting her for the last six years—and she doesn’t plan on letting this moment pass her by like she did unwittingly the last one.

[bodytoflame-ao3]

born for this // two

a series of moments in the life of one lyra jackson-chase

read from the beginning // AO3 Link

v //

“She’s crying again, Percy.” Annabeth yawns, refusing to open her eyes. No one told her she’d still be waking up in the middle of the night with a one year old.

He kisses her forehead, and rolls off the bed. “I got it.”

She thinks about how lucky she is — to have him; to have this beautiful part of both of them. The thoughts calm her — she’s almost back to sleep when she hears a thud, jolting upright and alert immediately. “What is it?”

“Sorry,” Percy rushes to her side, “I just stubbed my toe.”

“No monsters?”

“No monsters, Annabeth.” At least not tonight. “Everything’s okay.”

And it is, for a little while.

vi //

They do come. Once, twice; as she gets older, they lose count. Sometimes they’re real, sometimes they’re not.

“Daddy.” Percy can barely see Lyra rubbing her eyes in the shadow of the doorframe, tottering over to his side of the bed, only illuminated by the moonlight and light pollution.

He whispers, trying not to wake Annabeth (as he knows it’s hard enough for her to get to sleep once), “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Monsters.”

It’s silent, save for the ever-present hum of the city that his ears have learned to regard as background noise. There’s no monsters tonight.

“C’mere.” He scoops her up, tucking her in tight under the covers in the middle of their bed. “You just had a bad dream.”

vii //

Tonight, it’s gorgons. It’s nothing they haven’t dealt with before, and it won’t be the last time, but after he’s stowed Riptide back in his pocket, Percy feels an intense wave of exhaustion roll over him. It feels like he’s just going through the motions, fight after fight; living each day wondering if they’ll get any sleep. 

“Annabeth.” Percy’s hand ghosts over her shoulder blade, seeing the rapidly forming bruise peeking out of her tank top. She winces. “Sorry.”

She turns to face him, taking his hand, “It’s okay. I love you.” It’s going to hurt, and she knows that — but it’s better than the pain she would feel seeing her daughter get hurt. She could get a paper cut, or a splinter, or some other normal kid injury, and Annabeth would have to hold back tears just to bandage her up. This pain is as familiar as her own skin, and she knows how to deal with it. So she will.

Percy squeezes her hand softly, and kisses her cheek. “I love you.” Just saying it brings a sense of peace to his tired body.

“I’m gonna go make sure she’s okay.” If they’re lucky, she’s fallen back asleep. If not...

Lyra runs straight to her, towing a blanket draped over her head, and clings to Annabeth’s leg, crying. She must’ve had a real scare.  

“It’s okay. It’s gone.” Annabeth scoops her up, and holds her close, fingers threaded through soft brown curls. “You’re safe now.”

Lyra’s sniffles grow quieter; more infrequent as she calms in her mother’s arms. “Gone?”

“All gone, baby. I promise.” She lays her down into her bed, tucking her tightly into a sea of blankets.

Annabeth sings her to sleep, and as Percy stands in the doorway, still brushing dirt off his clothes, he thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

She gets up, smiling when she notices him, and the awed look on his face, “What?”

“I never knew you could sing like that. Thirteen years and I never knew how beautiful your voice is.”

Annabeth has no idea how to respond. All she knows for sure is how eternally grateful she is for him, and the life they’ve built together; and they’re safe, and alive, and happy, most of the time, and that’s all that matters. So she wraps her arms around him, strong and tight, and tries to hold back the tears that threaten to come. They both cry for everything they still don’t know.

viii //

“I hope you realize, this is extremely unprecedented.”

“You’re telling me we’re the only demigod couples to ever have kids?” Piper raises an eyebrow.

“Not the only, but one of the few.” Chiron pauses, leaving it to them to come to a conclusion as to why. It’s not something they want to dwell on. “And certainly not any of such… heritage.” He glances toward Percy and Jason. “When you all were born you received half of each parent’s DNA — in your case, half god, half mortal. The same principles apply to your children. With the way we’ve seen their powers develop already, at such young ages, I believe Calliope and Lyra may have a greater percentage of godly blood. I can’t say with any certainty just how much or from who — I’m sure we’ll see their powers grow with time — but I fear this is going to put them in danger. There’s a prophecy—”

“No,” Percy says, firm, “I don’t want to hear about another fucking prophecy.”

Annabeth smooths her hand against his back. “Percy…”

“I won’t let her grow up the same way we did.” His voice cracks as he finishes his sentence, trying to hide how upset the idea makes him.

She holds him closer. “I know.”

Chiron continues, “I’m afraid there’s not much I can tell you. It’s incredibly vague, as these things tend to be. A warning of descendants of powerful gods from two sides.”

“You thought it was us,” Jason says, “Percy and me. That’s why you wanted to see us.”

“Correct. It seems, though…”

“They shouldn’t see each other.” Annabeth juts in, quiet. “Lyra can already spill her sippy cups when she’s upset, and Piper’s seen Callie make people’s hair stand on end. That’s not a good combination.”

Piper looks like she’s about to speak up, but Jason takes her hand. “She’s probably right. It’s too dangerous.” She knows it is. It doesn’t make it any harder. When she found out Annabeth was pregnant all she could think about was how wonderful it would be to watch them grow up alongside each other.

“I want to hear it,” Piper says, loud and clear, demanding. “The prophecy.”

ix //

“Fuck,” Percy swears, wincing.

“Stay still.” She threads the needle between the edges of the laceration with a steady hand. It’s like her brain completely shuts off, its only directive to stitch him back together. “You wouldn’t be sitting here if you’d listened when I said to double back.” She know she sounds bitter, but her words are so disconnected from her thoughts, they feel foreign in her mouth.

“I thought I had enough time.”

“Percy,” she warns, “Don’t scare me like that. When you get overconfident you get reckless. You know that.” I know. I do too.

“I know, but— ow —if we get sloppy that’s just putting her in danger.”

Annabeth pauses, tying the last stitch off without another word. The silence doesn’t last long. “Maybe we should tell her.” It all feels selfish, like she's a bad mom just for thinking it. They’re her parents — it’s their job to protect her, not the other way around. But it’s painful to keep fighting, after so many years. “I wouldn’t have to worry about losing you like this. We could take her somewhere safe.”

“Annabeth… She’s 6. I don’t want her to have to carry that weight until it’s absolutely necessary.” This little girl is everything to him. He sees so much of himself in her, and every second they have to talk about the prophecy, it hurts him.

Annabeth stays silent; he’s right, even if she doesn’t want to say it out loud. And she hurts, too. So she nods — she never wanted to lie to her, ever. But this is too much to put on the shoulders of a child. One just as little as she was. She wishes someone would’ve considered that when she was young.

x //

“Are you two coming up for lunch anytime soon?” Annabeth rolls her eyes, standing at the edge of the lake. “It’s been half an hour.”

Percy surfaces, Lyra right behind him, giggling profusely.

“Did Daddy say something funny?” She raises an eyebrow, glaring at Percy.

“Daddy talks to the fish.” It sounds more like fith. She smiles wide, a toothy grin showing off her missing front teeth.

“Great,” she stares right into his soul, trying not to let on the slight bit of amusement it brings her, “She thinks you’re crazy.”

A tenet of her limited attention span, Lyra starts playing with her powers, splashing about, seemingly not paying any attention to their conversation.

He protests, “She just figured out the bubble thing, I had to show her something new!”

“And does she understand them, Percy?”

His face falls. “Uh. No. I see your point,” he laughs. It seemed she hadn’t inherited that particular power from him. “She’s pretty amused by this, though.”

Tens of tiny blobs of water circle her, weaving around Percy, up into the air, and back into the lake.

“It took you a long time to be able to do stuff that precise,” Annabeth notes, wading into the water up to her ankles and handing him a sandwich from her bag.

“Yeah. It did.”

xi //

“How come you never told me about this?”

“Because it’s scary.”

“I can handle scary.”

Annabeth sighs, “I heard the Great Prophecy for the first time when I was your age.” It kept her awake with nightmares far too often, knowing she’d eventually be a part of it — which is why she’s so reluctant to tell these things to Lyra, despite knowing how important it is that she knows. “I spent two years waiting for a sign until I finally got one. He was annoying, and dense, and the son of my mother’s biggest rival. And then he was my friend — my best friend. Someone who was loyal to me no matter what. I wouldn’t change that for the world.” Not when it’s brought her here. “But we had to make a lot of hard decisions. And I—” She shakes her head. “I know you don’t completely understand.” Annabeth never intended her to. “I need you to know that it’s not always going to be easy.”

xii //

“I’m 11 now,” Lyra states, with an air of unparalleled confidence, “I can keep secrets.”

“Hey,” Percy says, patting her back, “We trust you. It’s just a big change.”

She crosses her arms. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“That also means you can’t use your powers,” Annabeth says, handing Lyra her lunchbox.

“I know.” You told me. Many times.

Annabeth kisses her cheek, pretending she doesn’t see her dramatically wipe her face off with the back of her hand mere seconds later. “Okay. I love you. Tell me all about it later.”

Percy walks her out the door, and down to the subway stop. They stand, and wait. “So, middle school. Kind of a big deal?” He sure thought so.

“I guess,” she shrugs. “I’m excited to make friends.” It’s the one thing that sucked about being homeschooled. She knows, as they’ve told her so many times, it was for her protection, because she never was able to completely control her powers as a kid. But the only kids she’s ever really known otherwise are other demigods; and what fleeting interactions she had with them while visiting Camp. And they weren’t like her, not really.

Percy reaches out his arms as the car doors open, beckoning her for a hug. She wraps her arms as far as they’ll reach around him, as tight as she can. So he holds her close against his chest for as long as he knows the doors will remain open, “You got this.”

xiii //

“Keep your feet apart. Knees bent.” Annabeth instructs her, feet firmly planted in the grass, beckoning for Lyra to follow.

Lyra clutches the sword, an iron-clad grip Annabeth recognizes from when she was this age — still too young to fully understand the weight of what she was doing, but old enough to feel the fear that came with the inherent danger of every battle she fought. “Loosen your grip.” Lyra follows, feeling the handle bounce with her new stance. “There you go.”

“Now remember, be ready to move. Stay on the balls of your feet.” That got her last time. And it had plagued Annabeth many times — feeling frozen, for even with a plan, there were so many unpredictable variables within combat.

Lyra nods, and takes a tentative swing, blocked by Annabeth. She staggers back, preparing a counterattack. Her blade catches against Lyra’s before she even gets close. “Good. Nice block,” Annabeth says, directing Lyra’s sword away with her sheer strength. “Now try for a hit.”

“You’re too quick.” Lyra breathes heavily, clearly intensely focused and growing weary. She blocks again, against her advice.

“No, you’re doing great. Keep going.” Annabeth encourages her, gearing up to test her reflexes. “Find an opening.”

She almost takes Annabeth by surprise; going on the offensive with such short notice. Her swing aims low, and Annabeth has to think quick, readjusting her stance to block the incoming blow. “You’re getting really good at this.”

Lyra sighs, her sword swinging at her side. “Thanks.”

xiv //

“Zeph! Lemme in!” Lyra’s voice sounds over the intercom, and he buzzes her up.

“Why is it always my place?” Zephyr asks, opening the door right as she’s about to knock.

“Our apartment is tiny,” Lyra shrugs, squeezing past him in the doorway. And we have a truly impressive stash of weaponry in the coat closet which I’d rather not have to explain.

“So. Graduation’s only a few weeks away.” he says. “Are you excited? For high school?”

“I don’t know. I guess.” It doesn’t seem like that big of a change. Same kinds of classrooms, cinderblock hallways; the usual cliques and groups. The same tendencies of teachers to constantly breathe down her neck about assignments and paying attention, despite her accommodations. She sinks into the couch, feeling the relief of taking her backpack off.

“That doesn’t seem very enthusiastic.”

“I just hate the drama. Did you see what they did to Jenna Thompson the other day?”

“Jenna hates you, Ly,” he laughs.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she deserves to get gum stuck in her hair,” Lyra mumbles, hugging her knees into a ball. Sure, she’s a menace and has never said a single nice word to Lyra, but she doesn’t wish ill on her for it. Everyone’s got their own shit, bullies included, and she’s trying her best to ignore it. Plus, she already got what she deserved.

“She called you—”

Her head snaps up to stare at him. “I know what she called me, I don’t need to hear it from you too.”

“Sorry. I just… I don’t understand how you can…” he sighs, “It just makes me so angry I—”

“Let’s just. Talk about something else.” She takes a deep breath, shifting the topic. “How’d you do on your finals?”

“Pretty good. Got straight B’s. Bombed the English essay though. And you know I killed that science project. So yeah, average all around.”

“As if you would ever get anything less than an A+. How’s the tomato plants?” He’s always liked gardening. Especially to bring a cold, industrial apartment to life. And of course it’d earn him an A — he knew how to take care of them, even in such a cramped space.

“Just picked ‘em yesterday. You ever had homemade ketchup?”

Her eyes widen. “No. You better have some left!”

“Of course I do. Meanwhile, I’m guessing you aced everything—”

“Except math,” they say, at the same time, bursting into laughter.

“Yeah. You know me.”

“Sure do.” He grabs a plate from the kitchen, setting it down on the coffee table. “All homegrown. I present to you, gourmet french fries and ketchup.”

She tastes it. “That’s… amazing.”

“You know you only like me for the food.”

“You’re gonna be on some Top Chef shit, or something,” she chuckles, imagining it. “And not true!”

“Yeah, you’re gonna miss me this summer. But especially the food.”

“I wish you didn’t have to visit your mom all summer.”

Zeph sighs. “I know. But it’ll be over before you know it.”

xv //

“I can’t do this, Percy. I can’t keep pretending this is okay. It’s getting worse. They’re getting stronger. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Annabeth,” he sighs, and she can hear the sheer exhaustion in his voice. “We have to.”

“And what happens if we get seriously hurt?” I can’t lose you. Her body aches, scrapes and bruises staining a fair amount of her skin, even with the ambrosia. She feels defeated, and battered. And there’s only so much she can hide with long sleeves and pants. It’s been a week of fending off monsters everywhere she goes, sometimes without their help; it hurts them to see the marks on her body from fighting.

“Better us than her.”

She doesn’t disagree, but it’s more than that. She can’t lose us. “Percy, look at me.” He does. “You know what we have to do.”

He sighs, staring out the window to study the city skyline. “I just thought we had more time.”

“It’s longer than either of us had,” Annabeth reminds him.

Percy lets the concept of two more years sink in, and it hits him hard. Two more years of normalcy. Of not fighting for his life. “Okay. But... let her have her birthday.” It’s the least he can do when there’s so much anxiety centered around his own. She deserves a day for herself.

“Okay.” Annabeth echoes, quieter. “Come here?” He slides into bed and wraps his arms tightly around her; stubble pricking at her neck as he curls up closer. She fits so perfectly into his embrace, like the curves of her body were made to fit against him. Like he was made to hold her.

“She’ll be alright.” She has to be.

Part Three

[xdaughter-of-bloodyfacex]

Time knows no bounds

The summer before Elizabeth turned sixteen she reluctantly agreed to visit this family of hers in New Orleans. This Coven of witches in which until a year ago she had no idea she was part. After a few tests of Divination, Pyrokinesis, and Concilium, her distant cousin and Supreme Fiona Goode insisted that she come to their academy at least for the summer.

The idea of leaving Derry filled her with a heavy heart most of all there was a particular boy that could hardly remember a night in which they didn’t climb into one another’s windows to spend the night.

Stanley had been her best friend for years. The only person she found herself letting into the warped and tormented memories and trauma of her past. Yet, he didn’t leave. She might have been young but she knew she loved him. It was just hard for her to say - everyone she loved always hurt her in the end. Maybe that’s the reason she never told him about that summer and why she couldn’t tell him that the Coven had plans for her; what she could do? He knew she could heal minor cuts and invoke nasty blood curses on those who tried to hurt her friends, but she kept it at a minimum. He was too much of a rationalist to absorb everything that she was - the last thing she wanted was for him to be afraid of her.

That summer had changed her and opened her eyes to a world that most people couldn’t comprehend, and the things they were having her do. Testing her even though she was younger than most of the girls. She still woke up in cold sweat screaming from those times Fiona had her perform and test her for the seven wonders. Descensum was one of those so-called wonders, and even though she made it out from the netherworld, she remembers her hell so vividly it was like she was there again. Standing beside her father in their basement as he hands her the knife, urging her to cut into the flesh of a terrified tied up woman.

‘I’m not doing it...’ She’d protest only to have her father chuckle at her like she was five years old. It’s not bad after the first cut - then it feels good.’ As he proceeds to take her hand in his hand slice it through the unknown woman’s flesh. Seeing the light leave her eyes - she screamed while the voice of Oliver Thredson next to her mused You are my daughter. My legacy...’

When she was back home in Derry it was hard to explain to Stan why she woke like that every time. Not one to seek comfort or pity, she took it as a feat - here she was fifteen years old and was able to survive the most dangerous of the seven wonders. She had mastered how to find her way through hell and purgatory to reunite her spirit with her body. A few older ones weren’t so lucky and perished before her eyes.

While Robichaux was a place in which she found herself around others that have gifts like her. She found out that there had been many witches that made history - Anne Boleyn, Empress Josephine Bonaparte, Lilith, Morgan Le Faye, among others. She found out Marie Laveau was very much still alive and that the so-called White Witch was real and actually a member of a very famous seventies band. Then, there were times when even then she knew that she wasn’t like the rest. Not really; and her father wasn’t the only reason. The way that Fiona and Myrtle looked at her when she found a crushed hawk on the ground as they took a walk through the woods. Thinking of Stan and how much seeing this beautiful bird dead, the white-haired girl cradled it in her arms and just willed that its bones would heal, that its heart would beat and the blood would flow through its veins. Elizabeth hadn’t realized what she even did until she felt it peck at her fingers and she looked at it with a gaping mouth - it wasn’t just healed - she completely undid the damage that was done.

Then came the ability that had brought her to this current moment. Tempus Infinituum - Myrtle watched her in classes from the shadows with a look that she could only describe as fascination. One day after class which involves turning the color of a flower to what you willed, the red-haired matron pulled her aside. “Elizabeth, you have been excelling in every task we throw at you...” The words came casually. “It’s a pity we can’t convince you to stay here where you belong, with people who understand you...”

‘You don’t know me. You don’t know me at all...’ she thought but gave the woman a smile “Thanks but - I can’t - I can’t leave Derry...there’s...I won’t leave the family I made there...(I won’t leave Stan...)”

“Ah yes, that rather nice foster family...” Myrtle gave her a knowing look that only made her frown. “In any case, that’s not the reason I came to pester you, dear, I have been watching you and the things you have done. I believe your gift might involve the manipulation of time...”

Effie looked at her like she was crazy “Like being able to time travel - that doesn’t even sound real, even after everything I’ve witnessed here in this past month...”

“Technically it hasn’t ever been proven. It was an old Salem myth that proceeded back to a time I don’t know when. Those who have tried have died-“

Died. Well, that was a very forward way of putting things to the girl. Still, Elizabeth has never been one to care about taking risks that could get her killed. Stan was that voice of reason she listened to and he wasn’t there. “So I’m your test dummy?” The white-haired girl crossed her arms over her chest with an amused look on her face. Before Myrtle could sputter an excuse, Effie held up a hand “I’ll do it.”

It wasn’t something that Effie was sure she regretted or was glad that she did. Sitting in a bathtub fully clothed in candlelight while Myrtle chanted the words “Balneum Infinitum. Dona salui conductus...Tempus Infinituum" Over and over again until the water started to bubble and she was plunged into another time. A place the older witch wanted her to go. A mission to stop something that had happened nearly a hundred years ago. A cellar - a language she didn’t understand and a family about to be massacred. Young Anastasia Romanov crouched in the corner desperately trying to perform a protection spell on her and her family. Given the task of saving a fellow witch from the firing squad which only ended in failure and the girl emerging from the water screaming, blood pouring from her eyes and nose. She couldn’t leave them to die - she had to go back. She failed.

That’s not how myrtle saw it though and in secret this was performed many times. So much blood and pain and her body felt the after-effects but still, she persisted because failure wasn’t in her nature.

Soon enough it was time for school to begin in Derry and her sixteenth birthday. Coming back it was hard to separate what she had endured from the normal life she tried to lead there. She was haunted by what she wasn’t able to achieve as well as the words that Myrtle said the day she left.

“Fiona is growing weaker. It means a new Supreme is coming into her power - I wouldn’t get too comfortable with that life you have in Maine dear - we are positive the next Supreme is you...”

Not sure what the words meant, Elizabeth felt sick to her stomach and trapped in some sort of destiny she didn’t want a part of. Not if it meant leaving the only person she let herself love after her father.

In the presence of the losers, she was her old self if not a bit more reckless. The one person who really knew what went on in New Orleans was Richie who was basically the male version of herself. When she told him of what they made her do, especially the time travel - the boy was eager to see her do it.

One night when they were hanging out, he took her aside while the others were busy playing a game “You should show me that time travel thing you can do.”

“What? Why? I’d get all wet and it’s freezing outside.” The girl pointed out as the fall had flown by and they were in the midst of a freezing Maine winter.

“I want you to see what I’m going to be when I’m older like older. If I get the hell out of here...”

“Rich... I’ve only gone back in time - never in the future.”

The boy just shrugged “I think you can do it and if something happens I’ll pull you out okay?”

Glancing at the others who didn’t even realize they were gone, she looked back to the tall, gangly boy “With everyone here? What if something happens and they walk in and on I don’t know to see me doing a spell.”

Richie thought for a moment “Doesn’t Stan know?”

“Yeah, only a little bit. He doesn’t know everything I can do. You know he wouldn’t be able to process it and the others surely wouldn’t either.”

“Well it’s fucking hard for me to as well and to keep my mouth shut at the fact that one of my best friends is this powerful witch - it’s like your a superhero.”

“And they keep their identities secret. Besides word gets around - there’s already rumors from what I did to Greta...”

“That cunt deserved it...”

“Yeah, but you don’t think these backward old-timers weren’t thinking it strange how she started throwing up blood and convulsing at my feet? Yeah, it’s the 90’s but this place - Who knows if there would be a lynching squad...and I don’t want people looking at me like that...”

“Like what?”

“Terrified...”

After some more pleading, she reluctantly agreed and they snuck off upstairs; Richie with an arm full of candles from his parents' bedroom in his hands. Effie, taking one last glance at Stan who seemed to be looking around for her.

While Richie lit the candles, Elizabeth turned the water on and filled the bathtub, adding some ingredients she kept in her messenger bag into the water.

“Uh, you don’t have to ...like get naked do you?” He asked awkwardly.

“Fuck no.”. She retorted “Fully clothed, once again another misconception about witches - we don’t all strip naked and dance under the full moon.”

“Well, I didn’t fucking know...” Effie put a hand up to shush him as she took off her shoes and stepped into the tub, sitting down and crossing her arms pharaoh style against herself.

When the candles were lit, Richie turns the lights off and stood at the door. “Now what?”

“shh, I have to take myself to another place mentally.” Which caused the boy to roll his eyes. Then she began to chant the same chant Myrtle taught her “Balneum infinitum. Dona salui conductus...Tempus Infinituum" It didn’t take long this time for the air to change in the room and the candles to flicker wildly out of control. Out of instinct, Richie took a step towards her “Jesus fuck...”

She focused on the future and the friend standing lookout. Thinking of him as older, probably not wiser - older - like their parents' age. That was when the water began to boil and the candle flame intensified like kerosene was poured on them.

“Holy shit...” was the last words she heard- before she said the final “Tempus Infinituum...” and went under.

It was night time and she found herself standing outside of the Chinese restaurant in Derry. Time had passed - cars looked a lot cooler, but it didn’t give her much insight as to what she wanted Richie to find. If she was in Derry still, did that mean he got stuck here? Fuck - that would blow to tell him that. Then suddenly a group of people practically ran from the Jade in shock and fear. Her heart tugged at the sight of them because she knew - it was them. It was her friends. Snapping to her senses, Elizabeth ran and hid behind a car within the hearing range. They were upset and freaking out - It had come back. It was feeding again, killing. They didn’t want to be there but they made a promise. The white-haired girl heard the words “what the fuck does guess Stan couldn’t cut it mean?” and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She didn’t need to hear anymore - the drop in her stomach was apparent - Stan, her amazing Stan wasn’t in the realm of the living anymore. Feeling sick to her stomach, Effie poked her head up to look at the six and then she noticed it. Eddie - the neighbor boy who was the brother she needed to protect - he had a hazed halo surrounding him. Death was near and Eddie would soon join the boy she loved.

Suddenly the horror turned to anger and before she could control herself using transmutation, the white-haired girl found herself standing in the water of the barrens. “Come out here and show yourself you son of a bitch...” she yelled, hands clenching and unclenching in fury. She could feel the fire at her fingertips. ‘ It killed Stan, it killed Stan... Eddie...Georgie...all those children.”

She knew it was watching her, stupidly thinking she was prey.

“I call forth on the witches from the shade, those who came before me and died so that I may live and rise to power.” The wind began to pick up and that’s when she saw the clown standing on the water.

“You think you can stop me?” The drool dripped down its chin as it looked at her hungrily. “I am the eater of worlds and of children and what are you?”

“The witch who is going to end you for killing the only person I love...” Effie spat.

“Oh, You mean Stan? He was so weak and easy - just a little push and poof! He takes a bath and slits his wrists cause he knows he can’t beat me.”

The words stung and she faltered for a moment, then the anger rose up again as she began chanting “Turpis et infernos in terris pariunt. Et furniture verba haec locutus sum vobis...”

With her eyes didn’t leave the creature she could sense the fear it had in which she was doing so on instinct It lunged after her only to be burned when Elizabeth raised her hands turning the water into fire instantaneously.

It scampered back away from her “You...you wield the power of nature...it’s not fair it’s not so ...”

“You god damn right I am, and I’m coming back for you and you're going to burn in hellfire, so remember my name Elizabeth, descendant of Salem and child of Gaia, of Artemis, and Lilith will be the one to destroy you...”

She could feel herself fading back - she knew what her mission was. What she’d use her gifts for and she’d do it again and make it right - all if it meant she’d save him - save them all.

“What the hell is going on Richie?” She could hear Stan yelling but that was cut off as emerged from the water screaming bloody murder, her socks kept sliding but she couldn’t get out of that tub fast enough. Looking up at Stan and Richie, she could tell by the paled expression on their faces that blood was running from her eyes and nose. She was confused and incoherent and god did she feel like she was going to pass out, but hearing Stan’s voice, she looked up at him all she could think about was the fact that he was going to die. Not now, but that son of a bitch of a clown that tormented him for years would do him in. Not seeing his face, or his smile, his laugh. For the first time, she could recall she started crying as she practically leaped into his arms. She couldn’t tell him what was wrong and the way she clung to him for days afterward which was something that Stan definitely wasn’t used to.

All she could think about is that she needed to stop this. She had to warn him but not now, not at this age. She also had to kill that clown.

That was when she decided death or not she was going to go into the future again, this time before anyone got hurt and take care of it then and there.

(This is - well i don’t know what this is. It’s been in my head for days and I had to write it out)

That’s how she got here. Elizabeth didn’t necessarily have a guide book for doing this spell this way so when she found herself in a warmer climate that wasn’t Derry, she was beyond confused. Eventually, though, the white-haired girl found that she was in Atlanta, Georgia. It was a bit too close to Robichaux but at that point, she didn’t care. She was sent to this city for a reason. It was the beginning of 2017 which meant that she had time. She had to figure out what to do in the meantime so Elizabeth did the only logical thing. She went undercover and became a typical seventeen-year-old girl in 2017. It was a lot easier with magic in the mix. She went by Lizzie and aside from her mission, things weren’t that bad. Her father was long dead and there weren’t any witches coming to take her away to run their stupid coven.

It was a month and a half into her steak-out and honestly she still wasn’t sure as to how she was going to even tell an adult Stan that it would be coming back and that he’d be contacted by one of the other losers to go back. To tell him not to harm himself or to leave this place. That she’d kill it.

She figured he forgot all about her by now, for all she knew Fiona probably croaked and now she was heading the academy but someone else’s will but her own. Probably married with kids and some kind of job that totally fits him. That feeling left a hole in her stomach and even though she was a kid - she never thought of being away from him. It was part of the reason she didn’t go searching and instead tried to distract herself with this life she was playing currently.

It was one day in March that she was leaving the high school she went to downtown (because she had to blend in ergo school was a must), that she decided to wander down to the business section for the hell of it. It wasn’t like she wanted to go back to the motel she stayed in anyways. Her eyes were lowered to this newest gadget called an iPhone. Who would have known the future has such cool devices. Then there was this thing called youtube that she found herself obsessed with and these things called apps. That was when she bumped into someone and caught her phone just before it hit the ground. “Fuck, sorry man.” She replied but as she looked up her eyes widened in shock. There he was - only he was older and had reading glasses on. It was Stan. There was no doubt in her mind that he knew exactly who she was when he saw her. Everything seemed frozen at that moment and she wasn’t sure what to say. Did she tell him now and leave? It was still too soon, the moment wasn’t right. Elizabeth wasn’t sure when the last time he even has seen her. Was it the night she decided to perform Tempus Infinituum and come here to stop him?

Ignoring her feelings and how weird everything felt she blurted out the words “Look, if you get a call from Derry - don’t answer it and don’t do anything.”

@glassmenagerieofmuses

[douxreviews]

Charmed - Season Six Review

"It helps to be a sister."

With more plot holes than actual plot, some really questionable character arcs, and frustratingly inconsistent mythology, Season Six is undoubtedly one of Charmed's worst years.

Following the downward trajectory that began in the latter half of Season Five, we enter Season Six with the series in a state of confusion. Piper and Leo's separation is, unfortunately, the crux of the season, and the character responsible for all this - Chris - plays a frustratingly important role in the season as well. Portrayed by an actor with the charisma of a dead fish, and written with very little conviction, Chris is probably the worst major character the series ever introduced. As we watch the more familiar and, yes, admittedly bland Leo slowly grow apart from Piper and the sisters, we're forced to endure a very slow, and very odd reveal of Chris' true identity. Episodes like 'Chris Crossed' try to add depth to him, but the general confusion surrounding his place in the series make it more of a baffling watch than a satisfying one.

Initially coming across as somewhat of a villain, it's obvious that Holy Marie Combs' pregnancy threw the writers under the bus, with Chris' subsequent unveiling as Wyatt's brother raising more than a few questions about what came before it. Like why would Chris kill a Valkyrie with such reckless abandon in the season premiere, and why did he have to go through all the effort of enlisting a demon just to teach the sisters a lesson about their individual wants and desires in 'My Three Witches'? And how the hell did Drew Fuller ever get hired in the first place?

Chris' plan also required him to keep Piper and Leo apart so he could place himself close to Wyatt, but watching the separation unfold is a truly aggravating experience, especially when it felt neither organic, nor appropriate. There are a few parts of the season that try to toy with Piper's role as a single mother, though the inconsistent writing prevents most of these moments from hitting home. There are some admittedly strong scenes that explore Piper's pain over Leo's departure, notably in the premiere where Phoebe's new power of empathy allows her to feel the hurt and betrayal that Piper had been holding back for months thanks to a spell gone awry. Largely, though, the arc is a mess, and it’s a relief when it all comes to an end with baby Chris' birth in the finale.

Chris' plan to save Wyatt from getting corrupted by evil forces leads us to the show's first major antagonist since The Source; the misguided Elder, Gideon. His motives are flimsy as hell, but the presence of a primary villain is welcome in light of the reversion to a stand-alone narrative last season. The story never quite works, with Gideon's reasons for betraying the sisters and attempting to destroy Wyatt feeling a little unfounded. There are some interesting repercussions to his actions, though. Leo's decision to kill Gideon for betraying him essentially ends his time as a fully-fledged Elder, sending him down a dark path next season.

Outside of Piper and Leo's family drama, there are just as many issues to be found, with Phoebe's plots this season continuing her path to full-on narcissism. Gone are the days of the fun, relatable misfit. Now she's much more concerned with sperm hunting and using, abusing and later losing her new power of empathy to find said sperm. Bar a few fun moments, Phoebe is pretty abhorrent this season. It's hard to feel sympathy for her anymore, and most of the beats her arc hits feel like they're driving her character further and further into the ground. This season also marks the first instance of a tradition that lasts through to season eight; Phoebe's annual love interests. Here, it's a carry-over from last season; Jason Dean. He's mostly fine, though he falls squarely into the same category as most male characters on this series and becomes rather disposable. He eventually departs after finding out Phoebe's secret and he isn't missed.

Paige's decision to quit her job as a social worker last season is still causing her to drift from place to place. But rather than mooching around the manor honing her witchcraft as she did in Season Five, here she takes up temping, giving the writers a chance to throw her into a new and absurd situation each week. Some of these fall flat (hi, talking dog!), but some do lead to some genuinely intriguing situations, most notably in 'Love's a Witch', where Paige is caught in the middle of a magical family feud. The episode is decent enough, though it's more significant for its introduction of Paige's semi-recurring love interest, Richard. Initially appearing as a witch with a magic-averse attitude, we soon learn about his addiction to dark magic. There are some cool, dark little moments for Richard, but in general the plot is never fully realized and his addictions eventually drive him away from Paige. I think the biggest problem with Paige's weekly exploits is that each of them seem to emphasize how uneven she's become. At least her early episodes in Season Four are mostly consistent; you could really get to know her. Here she goes from peace-maker, to busybody, to activist, to floozy to a whole host of other things and it’s hard to get a read on who she is anymore, which is a huge disappointment.

It goes without saying that there are very few great episodes, this season. 'Love's a Witch' is one of them, as is the two-part season finale 'It's a Bad, Bad, Bad, Bad World'. The idea of dual realities is something that’s done a lot on other high concept shows, and it's explored in a fun and creative way, in this double lenghth episode. It also gives a choppy and dissatisfying season a remarkably poignant ending, with future Chris' death, and the birth of baby Chris. 'Forget Me... Not' is another highlight that has a lot of fun with a broken timeline, and it also features a cool little mystery that drives the hour to a crazy witch/dragon showdown.

Rare highlights aside, this season is a total mess. 'Witchstock' is a crock of an episode, where a wasted trip to the 60's feels like more of a chance to poke fun at the visuals of that era more than anything else. It's also completely devoid of any of the emotional resonance of 'That 70's Episode' back in Season One. 'Crimes and Witch Demeanours’ is a dull clip-show, that makes a half-hearted attempt to make amends for the girls' abuse of Daryl, who is at this point a walking, talking plot device. 'Prince Charmed' takes the cake, though (literally). It’s an abhorrent hour that features Phoebe and Paige acting like brain-dead bimbos, while Piper makes some really questionable choices about her love life and role as a single mother. It culminates in an embarrassing food fight that is hard to watch, not just because its an awfully written scene, but because it's hard to see three characters who were once so admirable acting like this. I feel so bad for Holly. She deserves so much better than this sub-par material.

Potions and Notions

The Cleaners pop up this season. Their job is to clean up whenever magic is exposed. Where were they when Prue and Piper were exposed on live TV in 'All Hell Breaks Loose'?

There's a weird separation story line that plays out mid-season when Phoebe and Paige decide to leave with their respective beaus. It wraps up without much fanfare when Phoebe splits from Jason, and Paige leaves Richard.

Spells and Chants

Piper: "Okay, neurotic people, can we get back to my neurosis right now, please?"

Piper: "Come to me and be seduced, I have a girl to introduce. Fall for her, you can't resist her, Trust me, mister, she's my sister."

Chris: "I'm Piper and Leo's son." Paige: "What?" Chris: "They're my parents. I came back to save my family." Paige:"You're serious." Chris: "Yeah. Only now I've gotta save myself. Because if my mom doesn't get pregnant in the next month, there is no me." Paige: "This is all so wrong!" I'm right there with you, Paige.

Best Episode: It's a Bad, Bad, Bad, Bad World.

Honorable Mentions: Forget Me... Not, Love's a Witch, I Dream of Phoebe.

Worst Episode: Prince Charmed.

It's a shame that the decision to return to a big bad formula is destroyed by clumsy plotting and hack dialogue. At least Chris' death gives the series the chance to move on from this mess next season and try something new.

4 out of 10 Valkyries.

Panda

[greystoner]

Do u have a post somewhere abt your ocs? Who are they what do they do!

HOO BOY sorry this took me so long to get to i havent had a lot of spoons

my ocs are all a part of my original story which i still… need to title lmao. or at least, my main 3 ocs are! valére, cosette, and theodore. i have a 4th in the making named apollo but i don’t have a lot down for him yet. and a 5th one will be revealed in the future

i can try to give a description of their original canon (it’s basically like a supernatural/horror/comedy) and then talk about each of Them specifically. i actually have a pinterest board i started making for the story the other night. and the 3 of them have their own individual boards too.

first thing’s first: the setting of the story is primarily in france.

basically in the world there’s a handful of individuals who are very, very sensitive to the supernatural. you can think something like mediums/psychics, but their sensitivity is far beyond those. it starts when they’re a child, seeing supernatural things such as ghosts/spirits etc on a regular basis. each person has different reactions to it of course, but many get so used to it that they don’t realize how Not Normal it really is.

there’s also these supernatural beings i’ve been calling ‘messengers’ for now until i come up with something better. they’re neither good nor evil, necessarily, but they’re generally tasked with fighting off monsters and at times, keeping a close eye on that handful of humans because, obviously, these humans would attract anything supernatural like a moth to a flame. it can put them in a lot of danger. but their main job is to fight off malevolent creatures from the world. the messengers tend to travel between the mortal world and others frequently, and often take the shape of animals or even people. with animals, most try to pick an animal that would easily blend in. so basically birds, cats, dogs, etc. some have one animal they stick with, others change depending on where they’re going.

a lot of the monsters can’t be seen by normal humans, but normal humans can still certainly be affected by them. the monsters that these messengers have to fight off range from imps to goblins right up to thinks that border on eldritch abominations. think a lot like, monsters you’d see in bloodborne or dark souls or w/e.

also messengers can be considered “symbiotic” while demons are “parasitic”. but that’s a whole other worldbuilding post for another time.

BUT ANYWAY ONTO THE CHARACTERS THEMSELVES please be prepared for a shitton of Words and rambling

ok starting with valére. here’s his pinterest board

and here’s a drawing of him a friend of mine did a while back

so valére is kinda like the Main Protag of the story. he’s the one that’s most fleshed out currently. he’s a 39 year old dude of french peruvian descent that was born in marseilles, france. his father’s side of the family were peruvian immigrants and have been in france for a few generations. his mother is french/polish, so val is mixed, but takes a lot more after his father’s side.

he’s a 6′5″ brick wall of muscle and appears intimidating at first, the scars don’t help, but he’s a giant teddybear. he’s very friendly, smiles a lot, laughs a lot, but can be a little odd with his behavior and people can think he’s a little weird because of it.

he grew up in marseilles and had a pretty cozy life. his parents weren’t Rich but were definitely upper class, so they never struggled much. the visions of spirits and whatnot were always present thru his childhood and he never thought much of them, they were just a normal occurrence in his mind. so it was easy for him to ignore them and vice versa, and it was hard for anything malevolent to feed off of him.

he did have some trouble making friends growing up though, mostly because a lot of other kids thought he was a weirdo and he sort of was but without meaning to be. just, when you grow up constantly surrounded by spirits and shit, then it’ gonna kinda shape you in a way. but he’s always been open and kind to others, and hates conflict and will do what he can to avoid it or break it up.

and he was the kind of kid that got hurt a LOT cus he had – and still has – the tendency to be rather reckless. his pain tolerance has always been crazy high. like, by the time he was 6 he had already broken an arm and a leg. he broke his leg on the playground but got back up and tried to play again as if nothing happened and his parents were like WHAT the fuck.

but anyway when he was like 9 he was walking back home from school and he found this giantass pure black owl injured in the gutter and he was like ??? because it was the middle of the city, what’s this fuckin owl doing out here, and why is it hurt? basically it’s hurt really really bad and it could very well die but he hauls this giant bleeding bird up in his arms and it doesnt even try to attack him and he carries it back home and spends hours that day taking care of it with the help of his mom and manages to keep it from dying. then the next few days he takes care of it and feeds it and after they finally released it valére swore for years it thanked him and said it would repay him some day

after that the spooky shit kinda got more intense but he never really thought much of it and just carried on and it seemed like he was the only one that could see any of it anyway. but otherwise things were relatively calm for a while

when he was 20 he was visiting some cousins out in paris. he was leaving a bar at like 3am and he was followed out by some guys. and at this point valére is already a huge dude so basically it takes 4 of these guys to properly get him down and then another slit his mouth which left him with nasty scars. there wasn’t much of a reason for it outside they were assholes and also took all of his money he had on him at the time. right after they left tho, even tho he was bleeding everywhere he got up and basically started walking toward the nearest hospital but not even halfway there someone spotted him and stopped him and called an ambulance LOL but even after that whole ordeal it really didnt put a damper on his overall positive attitude

things were quiet again for a bit but he started finding feathers around his apartment every so often and he’s like ???????

when he’s 22 things go to shit fast and he’s involved in a nasty traffic accident where a truck crashed head-on into his car, and it lands him in the hospital with gashes all over his body, spine broken in multiple places and many other broken bones, and his chance of living was very slim. if he did live, he’d be paralyzed and in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. turns out that owl he saved like 13 years before was this sort of like… spiritual/paranormal agent thing carrying out a mission disguised in that form and it got attacked by a malevolent being the day valére found it. and true to its word it repays him by basically saving his life by transferring its power/essence into him. and of course the doctors and his family things its a miracle etc etc ANYWAy

what mr owl failed to mention was that now that valére had these powers he’s pretty much kinda thrown into The Job as a messenger himself and basically has a duty of hunting down and killing the big scary evil monster demon stupid assholes so hes like cool i guess

he’s just all in all a pretty friendly well-meaning guy even if he looks kind of imposing with his scars and being a 6’5” brick wall of muscle (hes got some squish around his belly tho). and he says weird shit still sometimes and he laughs a lot. and it’s rare to catch him in a bad mood and he tends to avoid people if he is in one. he is very emotional tho and cries really easy. but even tho hes super friendly and welcoming he doesnt get close to people due to the danger of his job and he doesnt wanna wrap anyone else up in it, but even when hes asked why he dodges the question. but after now 17 years of doing that kinda work hes kind of really traumatized from everything hes seen (and also the accident and almost Dying in the hospital) but he hides it very well.

he’s the Dad Friend™

his abilities are: he’s capable of sprouting four black owl wings for flight, invisibility (but he can do selective invisibility, meaning he can make a certain person/people able to see him if he wants), he’s got cool swords he can summon at will that has a lot of powers of its own, and he can also do spatial/time manipulation but it takes a pretty big toll on his body so its kind of only for desperate measures. he can manipulate/control fire. also he can teleport i guess. but if he uses too much of his powers at once he can lose control and basically turn into a freaky monster (i keep imagining the glasgow smile scars tearing open and his teeth r sharp and theres like this black sludge coming out of his mouth… woo) and go on a rampage and then later will be back to normal but it has only happened once when he was still getting used to it and he swears Never Again (lol)

he likes bandannas (he has like 58967659 different ones and is always wearing one around his neck) and sweaters (like the bandanas he has like 58967659) and cream puffs (any pastry really but those r his favs) and cats and small dogs and classic literature and sappy romance movies. also hes gay and works at a flower shop during his free time

-

ONTO THE NEXT: cosette! her pinterest board is here

i don’t have a good reference pic of her yet… besides this thing i did a few weeks back

along with a big wip i’ll post eventually.

but yeah so she’s a 19 year old girl of romani descent, but she’s been kind of separated from the culture for a long time, since her parents died when she was young and she was put into foster care before finally being fully adopted by 11.

she’s got a lot of attitude and likes to cause trouble, because her adoptive parents are kind of strict and it caused her to have a very rebellious streak. at one point she uses their money to buy a motorcycle lmao so that’s her main mode of transportation and it’s sick as fuck. the helmet she wears while riding it has lil cat ears on it.

but she is well-meaning despite the rebelliousness and sharp tongue. she likes to crack jokes and tease the people she cares about, but will go to the ends of the earth for them.

she hasn’t had her powers as long as valére has, obviously. val has had his ever since she was still just a baby. she got her powers when she was 17, so she’s still getting used to them. she saved a cat from being attacked by stray dogs and surprise! the cat is just like the owl that val saved once. and one day when cosette gets hit by a car, the messenger offers her some of its life force. and now it sticks around with her as a cat and she calls her gigi even tho that’s not her real name

basically considering how gigi takes the form of a cat, some of cosette’s abilities are based off that, not unlike how since the messenger that val saved and vice versa was an owl so he has the power of flight and whatnot, she’s incredibly resilient, has heightened reflexes, can do Sick Parkour, always lands on her feet, and she has lil fangs that grow when she uses her powers and her eyes do Cat Things too. and her nails can turn into claws lmao. she also has powers similar to val’s like the invisibility, spatial/time manipulation, etc, but considering she’s still kinda new to it all she’s not As Powerful as val can be yet

but she meets val literally just bc they pass each other on the street one day, she senses val is The Same, and follows him back to his place DSBFHDBDFHFGF and decides she’s going to stay there and val is just like ???????? ok cool

she’s a huge lesbian btw

-

theodore is the next oc (pin board here) and the one whose fc is louis garrel. here:

 he’s 34. the youngest of 5 kids. his siblings were extremely mean to him throughout his childhood lmao cus they thought he was a freak. like for the first 5 years of his life he legit never spoke and was petrified by the visions of spirits and stuff he’d see. his parents didn’t know what was going on, they’d take him to a therapist and of course the therapist had no clue

so he grew up as kind of a cold and distant guy. hes very well meaning deep down but he just didnt have a happy childhood. the one relative he has a good, loving relationship with is his father. he excelled in school and was popular at first bc hes Handsome but considering his disposition it was hard to get close to him at all

and the case with him and his messenger is strange because. until he gains his powers he and the messenger had never met before whatsoever. the messenger is named vadim and takes the form of a giant black wolf. im still working out Why vadim even bothered saving him but basically, theo gets shot by his eldest brother and left to die. vadim drags theo off somewhere secluded, saves him, etc.

except vadim isn’t exactly a messenger but also isn’t a demon either. he Used to be a messenger. soemthing happened that made him Not so he kind of toes the line between them. messengers are kinda like angels in a way but on a much lower tier i guess. demons are just… demons

and this is where the symbiotic/parasitic thing comes in

bc messengers are very serious about repaying debts. it’s why val and cosette survived at all, because they had saved the lives of messengers before so said messengers saved them. and, for example, gigi pretty much lives with cosette now and cosette offers her protection and vice versa. it’s mutually beneficialmeanwhile like

if youre possessed by a demon you dont really get much out of it yourself. you’re pretty much just. a host to a parasite

and vadim is like… he isnt possessing theo but hes still feeding off of his energy despite saving him and giving him power. i havent really decided a lot on theo’s power but. he’s really strong. which is one reason vadim bothered saving him. bc he could see the fuckton of untapped potential

and a lot of it is due to his bottled up anger and hurt and whatever

also he and val kiss

-

the 4th i’m working on is named apollo and his pin board is here

he’s Sort Of an antagonist but not exactly im still working on his info but he looks like this

he’s a successful businessman but unlike the other characters he Actually Died before he was saved except. he was brought back by a demon that posed as a messenger. and basically bc it was kinda like a deal with a devil sort of thing. now he has to do whatever it wants and is lowkey possessed but also is kind of getting a kick out of bad shit but also not? he’s full of a ton of Conflict. but also the demons messenger counterpart comes into play at some point to help save apollo it’s good

the demon is a white snake and the messenger is a black one

no step on snek

[seengularity]

Still Breathing in the End Part 3

Pairing: none for right now

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: none

Summary: A man in his late thirties, who can be quite reckless. A woman in her early twenties, who can be quite mysterious. A story of someone thought dead is discovered alive.

A/N: Feedback is strongly encouraged, so please leave a comment if you reblog. It doesn’t have to be a super long comment, just enough so I can better my writing.

IN CASE YOU MISSED IT, FIND PART TWO HERE

You hadn't paid much mind to it until now, but as you looked over Dean's car and seen it caked with dirt and handprints covering the driver and passenger windows, you couldn't help but laugh.

"You think your sand box will beat me?" You pointed to his car, snorting from trying to hold in your laugh. "Careful, there might be mud inside your engine and you'll crash."

Dean glared at you as you laughed and then he looked at Sam. "She just made fun of Baby, didn't she?"

"Oh you better hope you win," Sam said, handing Dean your spark plug. Dean made his way to your engine and placed the spark plugs back, taking no more than five minutes.

Dean rose from behind the hood and looked at you with crazy eyes, his hands formed into fists.

You got back into your car and started the engine, hearing the beautiful purr, uninterrupted.

"Follow me?" You said, revving your car. Dean glared at you, shooting daggers at your face as you continued to make your engine purr for him.

You were more than familiar with the place. You knew every road and every rock that laid on the road. The perfect place to open up your car and show Dean just how much you could beat him.

"Ride with her," Dean told Sam, pointing to your car. "Make sure she doesn't try to drive away and chicken out."

Sam nodded, making his way to the passenger seat. You shook your head as Dean walked away mumbling to himself. You couldn't hear him clearly, but it did sound like he was furious that you made fun of his dirt bag of a car.

Sam cleared his throat, "It was a pretty bad idea to make fun of his car. He cares for his car a little too much."

Dean roared his car to life and let his loud engine fill the air. He was trying to show off, allowing his engine to grow louder and louder. You couldn't see him but you somehow knew that he was smiling with his loud engine, like if his engine was going to intimidate you.

You shifted your car into gear, taking off, leaving Dean to trail behind in a cloud of smoke.

"He'll get over it eventually," you said, looking over at Sam for a moment. "Plus it makes this race all the more interesting for when I win."

You stopped at a two lane road. This was a road you took often and you knew the quick and hard turns it had only straight ahead.

Dean drove up to your car and leveled with you, making sure that you weren't any inch farther than he was. He rolled down his window and glared at you, making you think that his glare never left his face since the parking lot. You rolled your eyes at his immaturity. How can anyone be so upset about a stupid little comment?

Sam got out of your car and slammed the door behind him, quite hard that it rattled your other windows. He bent down to be eye level with the car windows.

"You see the light pole down there?" Both you and Dean looked down the road. You could barely see the light pole with all of the turns in the road, but you could make out that it was a few miles away. "First one there and back wins."

Both of you guys nodded in understanding. "May the best car win," Dean shouted over his obnoxious engine.

You roared your engine, louder than before, and then spoke. "I plan to."

Dean rolled his eyes and Sam stepped back, making sure he was out of the way when the two of you took off. Sam shouted, and you stepped on your gas harder than you ever had.

Wheels screeched, smoke rose from them, both cars leaving large dust clouds behind. You lurched your car forward at a speed you didn't know was possible, at a speed you never had the reason to go until now. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles growing white.

This was exciting. It was the most excitement you'd had in a long while, ever since you and Ladybug had gone skydiving. When you had the car given to you by a will that your parents left, you promised yourself to not use it for racing unless for a good reason. This was a good reason, right?

Dean was ahead of you, which made you more excited as you inched your way closer to his car. The bumper of both cars increasing and decreasing by inches as the both of you drove at what seemed like the same speed.

Several turns and curves later, the light pole was quickly approaching, and you knew you needed to slow down so you can do a full 360° without tipping over.

Your nervousness was growing into a panic and you slowed your car enough to brake and gas it and turn the car around in a cloud of smoke. Tires screeching once again, you turned, suddenly facing Dean in his car.

He moved to the side, turning his own metal dirt trap around, and you floored your car before he could. Pressing the pedal down hard, feeling like you might break the gas, you wished your car would go noticeably faster.

You heard the roaring of Dean's car right behind yours. You could barely see Sam, although he was not completely out of sight. You didn't want to lose, although losing wouldn't be that bad. It's only hanging out with them.

Dean's car slowly appeared on the side of your eye. He was practically toppled over laughing as he drove, as he slowly began to inch his way ahead of you. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, you shifted your car into a different gear, sending your car several inches ahead of him.

You heard Dean yelling profanities as he was falling behind. You could here his gears shifting, but it made no difference in his speed.

POP!

The noise was so loud, you were sure the people at the bar were able to hear it. Your tire exploded below you, causing you to swerve and break harshly. You became scared, your heart racing but trying to keep your focus on keeping your car from tipping and rolling over. Everything was happening so fast.

As your car continued to lose control on the road, you noticed Dean slammed on his breaks and Sam was running his way towards you. Your car seemed like it never slowed down, continuing its deviation from the road. You shut your eyes, waiting to feel pain as you assumed your car would topple over anytime soon.

You tried to take deep breaths, but the dirt and dust around you was making you gasp for air. You were horrified by the events and you were sure you were going to die. You didn't hear Dean yell your name the first time, or the second, but by the third time, you were back to normal. You opened your eyes and you noticed your hands were still gripping the steering wheel forcefully, and you slowly let go, your hands and knuckles feeling sore.

The cloud of dust that surrounded your car was clearing up, and you were able to see how close Dean was to catching up to your car.

"Y/N! Are you okay?" He asked as he swung open the car door forcibly.

"I'm fine. My tire exploded and I think I wasn't breathing for a few minutes, but I'm okay," you said, climbing out of your car with shaking legs. You circled around your red car, trying to find the messed up tire.

It was two tires instead of one. You now knew why the pop was so loud. The two back tires completely ridded themselves and you were driving on the rim.

Sam finally caught up to your car, his hair all over his face and completely out of breath. "Is she okay?" He asked Dean.

Dean nodded in reply and Sam looked relieved. "Thank goodness. Do you have a jack?"

"Yeah," you said, clearly annoyed with the present situation. You made your way back to the front seat, lifting the lever to pop the trunk.

"I'll take the tires off. We can leave it jacked up here and run into town to get you new ones. Okay?" Dean said, finally catching his breath.

"You sure you're okay?" Dean asked. He reached his arm out to clearly comfort you, but you ignored him and continued to your trunk.

"It was just a tire, I didn't get hurt or anything," you shook off his gesture and got the jack out of your car.

You bent down, knee digging into the dirt as you started to place the jack on the ground, lining it up with the side of your car. You began pushing the jack, putting all your muscle into it.

"Y/N, please let me," Dean said, bending down on one knee next to you. He was getting ready to place his hand on yours but he saw the look on your face and retracted his hands.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance. This whole thing was annoying to you. Dean. Sam. Your popped tires. You losing the race.

"Oh so this happens often? Maybe you should get it looked at, or stop driving so recklessly," Dean hadn't meant for his words to sound so harsh, but they did. His words filled your ears and the air around you.

You scoffed at his words and turned back to the jack. "I'm not some helpless girl that can't change a tire. So be useful and take your car off the road before someone crashes into it and we're all stranded here."

Dean rose to his feet, taking a look at Sam and wondering why the hell you were so upset since the first time you met him. He didn't reply back to you, but he did, however, walk back to his car and move it out of the way.

[beyondforks]

Book Review! Juliet Immortal by Stacey Jay

Juliet Immortal (Juliet Immortal #1) by Stacey Jay

Genre: Young Adult (Paranormal/Fantasy Romance/Retelling) Date Published: August 9, 2011 Publisher: Delacorte Press

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which as they kiss consume.

-William Shakespeare, ROMEO AND JULIET

Juliet Capulet didn't take her own life. She was murdered by the person she trusted most, her new husband, Romeo Montague, who made the sacrifice to ensure his own immortality. But Romeo didn't anticipate that Juliet would be granted eternal life as well, and would become an agent for the Ambassadors of Light.

For seven hundred years, Juliet has struggled to preserve romantic love and the lives of the innocent, while Romeo has fought for the dark side, seeking to destroy the human heart. Until now.

Now Juliet has found her own forbidden love, and Romeo, O Romeo, will do everything in his power to destroy their happiness.

Secrets unfold and surprises abound in Stacey Jay's powerfully dark romance, which reunites literature's most tragic couple.

Juliet Immortal is the first book in the Juliet Immortal duology by Stacey Jay. I can't say that I've ever thought of Romeo and Juliet in this way. Not even close, and I've certainly never thought of Romeo as the bad guy. What?! I loved it though. It was so unique and different. The characters were not the same ones we've known all these years, yet you could still feel that bit of original Romeo and Juliet spirit in there. 

It took place over a span of only three days. So, that was a little quick to fall as hopelessly in love as they did, so, I found that aspect of it to be a little bit of a reach, but the story itself was told so well. It was dark, and creepy, and it flawlessly brought that haunting Shakespeare feel to the present with it's drama, tragic circumstances, specters, and more. I knew this was a book I wanted to read when I first saw it, and I'm very impressed by it. It was such a crazy idea! And, it worked!

ONE VERONA, ITALY, 1304 Tonight, he could have come through the door--the castello is quiet, even the servants asleep in their beds, and Nurse would have let him in--but he chooses the window, climbing through the tangle of night flowers, carrying petals in on his clothes. He stumbles on a loose stone and falls to the floor, grinning as I rush to meet him. He is a romantic, a dreamer, and never afraid to play the fool. He is fearless and reckless and brave and I love him for it. Desperately. Love for him steals my breath away, makes me feel I am dying and being reborn every time I look into his eyes or run trembling fingers through his brown curls. I love him for the way he sprawls on the freshly scrubbed stones, strong legs flexing beneath his hose, as if there is no cause for worry, as if we have not broken every rule and do not face banishment from the only homes we have ever known. I love him for the way he finds my hand, presses it to his smooth cheek, inhaling as if my skin smells sweeter than the petals clinging to his coat. I love him for the way he whispers my name, "Juliet"--a prayer for deliverance, a promise of pleasure, a vow that all this sweet everything he is to me will be forever. Forever and always. Despite our parents, and our prince, and the blood spilled in the plaza. Despite the fact that we have little money and fewer friends and our once-shining futures are clouded and dim. "Tell me that tomorrow will never come." He pulls me to the floor beside him, cradling me on his lap, hand curling over my hip in a way it has not before. Heat flares from the tips of his fingers, spreading through me, reminding me I will soon be his wife in every way. Every touch is sanctified. Everything we will do tonight is meant to be, a celebration of the vows we have made and the love that consumes us. I drop my lips to his. Joy bleeds from his mouth to mine and I sigh the lie into the fire of him. "It will never come." "Tell me that I will always be here in this room. Alone with you. And that you will always be the most beautiful girl in the world." His hands are at the ties on the back of my dress, slow and patient, slipping each ribbon through its loop with a deliberate flick of his fingers. No urgent, shame-filled fumbling in the dark for us. He is steady and sure, and every candle shines bright, the better to see the tenderness in his eyes, to be more certain with every passing moment that this is no youthful mistake. This is love. Real. Magnificent. Eternal. "Always," I whisper, so full of adoration the emotion borders on worship. A part of me feels that to love so is sacrilege, but I do not care. There is nothing in the world but Romeo. For the rest of my life, he is the god at whose feet I will kneel. His cheek presses to mine, his warm breath in my ear making mine come faster. "Juliet . . . you are . . ." I am his goddess. I can feel it in the way he shudders as my fingers come to the buttons of his cotehardie and pluck them from their holes, one by one, revealing the thin linen of the shirt beneath. "You are everything," he says, eyes shining. "Everything." And I know that I am. I am his moon, and his brightly shining star. I am his life, his heart. I am all that and the answer to every unspoken question, the comfort for every hurt, the companion who will walk beside him from now until the end of our lives, reveling in the bliss of each simple chore done in his name, overflowing with beauty because I am blessed to spend my life with my love. My love, my love, my love. I could hear the words a thousand times and never grow tired of them. Not ever. "Forever," I whisper into the hot skin at his neck, sighing as the last tie holding my dress to my body falls away. TWO SOLVANG, CALIFORNIA, PRESENT DAY Dying is easy. It's coming back that hurts like hell. "Oh . . ." I press my hands to my forehead, where hot, tacky liquid pours from a cut above my eyebrow. There is a lot of blood this time. Blood on my hands, smeared onto the dashboard, dripping through my fingers onto my jeans, leaving black spots I can see in the dim moonlight shining through the car's glass sunroof. It's messy, frightening, but, amazingly, the accident hasn't killed her. Killed me. Me, now. Her, sometime again soon, depending on how long it takes to ensure the safety of the soul mates I've been sent to protect. Or how long it takes Romeo to convince one lover to sacrifice the other for the boon of eternal life. It might not be long. He excels at his work. Either way, Ariel Dragland will wear this shell again. Until then she'll wait in the realm where I've spent most of my eternity, in the mists of forgetting, that place outside of time where the gray stretches on forever. I've been assured by my contact in the Ambassadors of Light that there are worse places, realms of torment where the boy who bartered our love for immortality will suffer someday. Nurse never uses the word hell, but I like to imagine that Romeo will number among hell's inhabitants. Of course, she never mentions heaven, either, or whether I might go there when my work is finished . . . if it is ever finished. There are a lot of things Nurse sees fit not to mention. Including the exact workings of the magic that pulls me from the mist again and again, now more than thirty times in seven centuries. All I know is life comes suddenly. One moment I'm numb and bodiless, the next I'm slipping into another's skin, another's life--the ultimate, dreadful disguise. I shiver as the memory of Ariel's last moments sweeps through me. I watch her snatch the wheel from the driver's hands before a deadly turn in the road and pull hard to the right, hoping the dive into the ravine will kill them both--her and the boy who hurt her. My eyes flick to the driver's seat. The boy--Dylan--slumps forward, the downward tilt of the car making his limp body curl around the wheel. He is still, not a puff of breath escaping his parted lips. It seems one half of Ariel's wish has been granted. I shiver again, but I can't say I'm sorry. I know what he did, can feel Ariel's shame and rage rush inside me as the rest of her life pours in to fill the empty corners in my mind. Behind my eyes flash images from her eighteen years. I focus, sucking in every detail, taking her memories as my own. Tiptoe, tiptoe, always on tiptoe. Up the stairs, across the kitchen, down the hall to the room where the crayons live and I can breathe. Where she isn't watching. My mother, with her sad, sad eyes. Seven, ten, fifteen, eighteen years old and still there is nothing finer than a blank sheet of paper, the white promise that the world can be what I make it. A magical place, an adventurous place, a possible place. Erasers take away the mistakes. Another coat of paint to cover them up. Black and red and purple and blue. Always blue. Mom sees in blue. She sees the scars she made. I was six. She sees Gemma, my one friend, as a mistake, not a lifeline. She sees my hours alone and feels more powerfully every hour she's wasted. I am the waste, the thing that's eaten her youth alive. Refused to cough up the bones. Sometimes it seems all I have are bones, scraps, a frame with nothing to fill in the empty space. Sometimes I hate her for it, sometimes I hate myself, sometimes I hate everyone and everything and imagine the world melting the way the grease melted my skin. Skin and bones. Mom and I are both so thin. Hugs hurt, but there aren't many. Not for years. There are surgeries and pain and bright lights and then days trapped in the house with the shades drawn on our shame. There is the darkness inside, that baleful intruder that comes just when I dare to believe I might one day be whole. There is school and the misery of being a person unseen, the jealousy that I can't be wild and beautiful like Gemma, that I am always an audience, never a player. There is the frustration of words that won't come out of my mouth no matter how hard I try. A D in public speaking. The one step up to the podium is an impossible climb. Everest. Higher. I hate Mr. Stark for his frustrated sighs, hate the class for their muffled laughter. I want to hurt them, to show them how it feels to have your insides twisted into knots you can't unravel. Gemma doesn't care, tells me to get over it, stops sharing her adventures, closes the window into her vibrant world, forgets to pick me up for school at least twice a week. I'm losing everything. My only friend, my perfect GPA, my mind. How much longer can I live like this? Can I make it four more years, sleeping in that room, commuting to the nursing college in Santa Barbara, learning to live with more sickness and pain, when all I want to do is escape? But then . . . there is him. His smile, his voice singing so strong, cutting through the curtains where I hide with my paints, curling into my ear, spinning dreams I want to come true. They don't. It's a joke. We're kissing--slow, perfect kisses that make my heart race--when the text comes, asking if he's taken the Freak's virginity yet. He tries to hide the phone, but I see it. I start to cry, even though I'm not sad. I'm angry, so angry. He offers me fifty dollars--a piece of the bet--if I let him have what he's come for. I explode. I try to run from the car, but he grabs my hand, squeezing as he pulls back onto the road, telling me to "chill the hell out," promising to take me to a better place. But there is no better place. I know that by now. There are only mirrors reflecting disappointment, shattering it in a million different directions, filling the world until there is no way out. It will always be this way. Always, even when I finally leave the house on El Camino Road. The road, the road is . . . impossible. I won't let him drive it a second longer. I won't let him steer through the hole in the mountain down to the beach, where the cold, dark ocean waits like a nightmare creeping. I won't let him. Not now. Not ever again.

Stacey Jay is a recovering workaholic (or at least working hard at recovering) with three pen names, two small children, and a passion for playing pretend for a living. She’s been a full time mom-writer since 2005 and can't think of anything she'd rather be doing. Her former careers include theatre performer, professional dancer, poorly paid C-movie actress, bartender, waiter, math tutor (for real) and yoga instructor. To learn more about Stacey Jay and her books on Goodreads.