#the mystery of what happened to her birth parents was probably on her mind a lot considering that brooch was the reason she studied latin at

[meowsticmarvels]

screaming to the crowd. zero escapers i need to know your thoughts/hcs on 1904!phi and her partner.... im thinking a lot about phis insane ass backstory. need to Know.....

[toomanythoughts2]

Victim or Cohort? Anja Wartooth and Toki Wartooth's Relationship Theories

Hello again! My full thoughts and analysis will be under the cut away just like last time!

I have spent a considerable amount of time thinking about these two characters and their relationship, and I thought it was about time that I put all of it down in one place. Anja Wartooth is an incredibly interesting character to me and it's a shame we don't see too much of her.

So, for the most part, this post will be about what the title says:

Was Anja Wartooth a victim just like Toki or was she a cohort to her husband's abuse toward Toki AND whichever she is, how has that affected her relationship with her son?

Evidence for Victimhood

Cults and Women

"From an abandoned village near Lilliehammer, Norway, Anja and the Reverend Aslaug Wartooth." - Senator Stampingston "Dethfam"

Anja Wartooth is a very mysterious character in Metalocalypse when we are first introduced to her in "Dethfam". She is a very single sided character, "the wife" "the mother" and once we learn a little more "the abuser". Anja's role as we see her as the fans is just that and nothing else. However, when we start digging through the actual background we are being given by Brendon Smalls, a much more disturbing image is being created. In order for us the understand what is being presented, we need to understand what is happening and what does that mean for her.

There are very few things we know about her but the most important to remember right now is that Anja is married to a cult leader.

"Toki's father [Aslaug] was the local leader of a mysterious and cultish sect of Christianity, which likely involved vows of silence and extreme disciplinarianism." - Metalocalypse Wiki

Anja is married to a cult leader, we as the fans are fully aware of that. But what does that really mean?

It means that Anja has no control over herself or her child.

Dr. Alexandra Stein wrote a short essay on the effects of women in cults called, "Cults are terrifying. But they're even worse for women." She has multiple years of research in the field dealing with cults and what they do to women, specifically their reproductive freedom. In her essay, she highlights how motherhood is taken over by a cult leader in order to force the woman to focus their attention on them, and not the child. This could mean forcing abortions on women or forbidding birth control so that child are convinced whenever. She also includes that when parental attention is given to the child, the cult community rules dictate how that attention happens. Women in cults are also exposed to sexual abuse and their children are exposed to child abuse, often times overlapping each other depending on what type of cult they are in. Child sexual abuse is not uncommon in cults, such as in the Fundamentalist Church of Latter Day Saints, where Warren Jeffs, their leader, is in prison for sexual abuse toward girls.

"In short, women’s right to control their bodies, their child-bearing, their sexuality and their mothering are all taken away in cults as the leader grabs control of these most intimate parts of their lives. Women don’t choose this: They are groomed, brought in slowly and gradually separated from their previous lives and close relationships. Once isolated within the cult, and suffocated within its closed world, it becomes almost impossible for followers to maintain their independence. At a certain point, it becomes easier to simply give in, stop thinking and accept the new norms." - Dr. Alexandra Stein, "Cults are terrifying. But they're even worse for women."

When reviewing the article, this specific scene from "Dethdad" came to mind. It's during Toki's flashbacks of all of the abuse he had gone through, and this is one of those things he remembers. Not only is this traumatizing to Toki, but, with the knowledge we know now, it's probably traumatizing to Anja. The last bit that Dr. Stein says, "It becomes easier to simply give in." really resonates with me with how Anja is simply "giving in" to her husband's desires. Take a close look at her. Does she look like she's enjoying it? NO!

Now that we know that cult leaders have a reputation of separating mother and child to keep the woman's focus on the leader, lets look at the Wartooths. Aslaug separating the interactions between Toki and Anja to keep Anja in line would be on par for a cult leader. They live in an abandoned village outside of Lilliehammer, so they are cut off from the rest of the world, keeping her and Toki severely isolated. Anja really only has her husband, the cult leader, and the few members of their cult that we see in "Dethdad". (The wiki hints that these people are also Toki's family, which further pushes Anja into isolation if those people in the cult are Aslaug's family, NOT Anja's!) Another small hint at reproductive abuse is the age of Anja and Aslaug. We don't know canonically their ages, but they are drawn in a fashion where they are much older parents, probably way older than they should be to be bringing in a child. Which raises the question, does Anja have access to birth control? My guess, probably not.

Another moment of mothering abuse would be the one time we see Anja hit Toki in "Dethkids." It was under the supervision of Aslaug. This cosines with the idea that mothering in a cult is only allowed to the extent of what the leader wants. Aslaug is a disciplinarian, which would make sense why he would oversee how the mother interacts with the child, and does as he wants, not what the mother wants.

This is a side note, in "Dethkids", this scene lasts for 18 seconds. 17 of those seconds were just Anja staring at Toki before slapping him.

What all of this information means to me is that Aslaug purposefully withheld Anja from forming a mother/son relationship with Toki, furthering his abuse on Anja and Toki. Based on Dr. Stein's essay, Aslaug most likely abused Anja as well, as it fits in their cult leader/wife dynamic. I feel like this is good evidence toward Anja being a victim of a cult and having to conform to his ideals in order to survive.

Aslaug's Abuse Toward Toki

Aslaug is a cult leader, a malicious man who has beaten and abused Toki. From the wiki, Aslaug is characterized to, "[petrify] [Toki] by any proximity to Aslaug, physical or mental." whereas Anja (granted her wiki is severely lacking) has no mention of bringing such a state to Toki.

Here is a list of all the ways Toki has been abused on screen:

Forced into the Punishment Hole (Underground pit) in inadequate clothing and in subfreezing weather.

Switched across back, legs, and arms till bleeding, leaving with open wounds and no medical care.

Chained to wall.

Pushing the "Wheel of Pain" mill.

Carrying boxes of rocks uphill in inadequate clothing.

Carrying logs and stacking them in inadequate clothing.

Face slapping.

Sweeping snow in inadequate clothing.

Walking in parents having sex (I personally see this as sexual abuse and control.)

A type of abuse we don't see on screen but is in the concept art of "Dethzazz", Aslaug hitting Toki's bare back with a horse whip when he breaks the wooden spoke.

In the special features episode, "Family," Toki states that he was spanked as a child. "I often thinks of the days in Norway when family. Pants down. Spank." - Toki

(I understand that spanking is a controversial topic when discussing child abuse, but I'm going to go on a limb here and say that Toki was not spanked in a "normal" fashion, and was probably beaten horribly.)

Now, I would like to remind everyone that the only time we see Anja being an active abuser is in "Dethkids" when she slaps Toki across the face. That is the ONLY time Anja does something like that. This, however, does not disqualify the indirect abuse she put Toki through by being a bystander and letting the abuse continue at the hands of Aslaug. Nor does this disqualify her from possibly having other direct roles in Toki's abuse, but, with the evidence that is shown, Aslaug is seen much more than Anja in Toki's abuse. However, Anja can be both guilty of indirect abuse and be a victim at the same time.

For example, in "Doomstar Requiem", when Toki sings "I Believe", there is a flashback when he says, "My familys, they didn't cares about mes" This is what is shown. Toki is obviously holding an acoustic guitar by the shape of the body that is shown and the wooden neck. He is showing it to his family and Aslaug is the one telling Toki that he has to leave, not Anja, though, she looks more disgusted with it than Aslaug. Here is more proof that Aslaug is the one making these decisions about and for Toki, not Anja, but Anja could have stepped in and stopped it.

With that being said, I would not be a far reach to state that Aslaug was the main abuser.

Lingering Effects

From what we know about Adult Toki and his abuse, is that Toki is severely traumatized. From their first meeting, Aslaug (and Anja by omission, but only because the wiki states that Aslaug causes Toki stress, not Anja) sent Toki into a catatonic state for three days in "Dethfam". He did not speak in those three days, a distinctive characteristic of Aslaug's cult. It is also a predecessor to "Dethzazz" where we learn that his catatonic state takes the form of the Punishment Hole, something we have only seen Aslaug send Toki to, not Anja.

Aslaug has also created a phobia in Toki of Bicentennial Quarters because they look like the entrance to the Punishment Hole. Toki is so scared of them that he has to be drugged in order to calm down from this phobia. This relays to the audience that Toki is so scared and traumatized by his time in the Punishment Hole that his body physically can not function around a quarter because it looks vaguely like it.

It's worth noting that in "Dethzazz" when Toki is stuck in his Punishment Hole, a spider hybrid with his father's head comes to attack Toki in his mind. He only comes around when Little Toki is by himself in his hole with his clown doll nowhere to be found, in his most vulnerable state. In his dissociative mind, the creatures that came to attack Toki were snakes and a Spider/Dad hybrid! Not Anja, Aslaug! This is important because it points out that Aslaug is Toki's main stressor.

One of Toki's most important arcs (in my opinion) is Toki age regressing slowly throughout the show until we get to "Army of the Doomstar", where it is confirmed by Pickles in the church. The reason Toki started regressing in the first place can be originated at "Dethfam" where Toki is forced to see his parents again. We see Toki voluntarily use age regression to cope and calm himself down, like the usage of his Deaddy Bear, coloring, playing with his toys (model planes), and his love for plushies. Those are only the few things I can remember off the top of my head. From there, throughout the seasons, Toki begins to regress more and more, until we get to "Doomstar Requiem", where once he is rescued, it really kicks it into overdrive. Simply, Toki's abuse (and captivity, which resembles a LOT of his own childhood abuse) has traumatized him so badly, that he has to age regress to cope, which went from voluntarily to involuntarily.

Everyone who loves Toki, knows that scene in "Snakes n' Barrels II" where Toki beats the shit out of that guy at the sober concert. However, it is important to remember that the episode right before that is "Dethdad". The Tribunal said in "Dethdad", "Toki has suppressed his feelings for his father. His death may ignite long-dormant emotions. He will spin out of control into a vortex of madness. He will bring death to us all."

I have a theory that, with the stress of his father dying, blaming himself for his death, and being in a crowded concert while being sober, was the reason he really went apeshit on that guy. The tribunal was giving us foreshadowing into the next episode (or two, if you watched it on TV and had to see it split up). With that being said, what the Tribunal predicted would happen, did happen, at least to one person. His repressed rage after his father's death while being overstimulated and sober caused a chain reaction in Toki.

I do not believe Toki to be a overtly violent man, despite his affliction toward sadism and power trips at times. "Dethkids" showed the audience that Toki's rage comes from his childhood abuse during "Toki's Song". The montage of his flashbacks show Aslaug and Anja abusing him, which hints that Toki does have some lingering anger toward his mother. This further proves the Tribunal's warning of Toki spinning out of control after his death.

Which brings us to our next effect, drinking. My theory is that, because Toki was sober when he beat up that guy (plus fully aware of his feelings about his father), he started drinking to combat any possibility of doing it again. I do believe that Toki does not feel good about what he did to that man once he regained his mind. So, in order to stop from thinking about his father and about beating that man close to death, he will do what he wasn't doing at the concert, which was drinking. Obviously, this leads the band to start to seriously worry about Toki and even have Nathan break the "No Caring" policy. Thankfully, Toki was able to kick that after the Season 2 Finale.

While this next effect may be a little meta, it's still an important aspect that I would like to talk about. Toki's panic attacks we see in the show, specifically the one in "Bookklok", are a result of his abuse. Abused children have a significantly larger chance of developing anxiety and panic-like symptoms and disorders. Toki was abused severely, but especially when he needed to be "punished" for breaking the rules. From my point of view, this means that Toki's panic attacks occur when he messes up something and thinks he is going to be punished again, like in "Bookklok", when he steps on his guitar AUX and messes up his solo. Something else to note, in the Metaloclaypse Wiki, it states that, "What Toki suffered from was most likely hyperpneic syndrome, usually called hyperventilation. If one breaths too much too quickly, the amount of carbon dioxide in the blood decreases, and an attack occurs." Toki's panic attack being hyperventilation related could also relate to Norway's high altitude and a his failure of acclimatization (which takes 3 to 5 days), which would have made his attack that much more severe, leading him to collapse like he did.

(This one might be a a stretch, but in "Dethrecord" when Toki accidently delete's Skwisgaar's guitar part, he does panic and plead with Skwisgaar to not kick him out of the band, even offering to suck his dick. I know it's meant to be a funny moment, but that was real fear out of Toki. This could align with a much younger Toki panicking and pleading with his father to not kick him out of the home and into the Punishment Hole, even descending into some desperate attempts to prevent it. I don't necessarily believe that Toki was ever sexually abused by his parents, but the likelihood of it happening is still very high, especially since Toki lives with the leader of the cult.)

Pickles Parallel

Toki is not the only one with a problem with his father. Everyone except Nathan (though he might of fixed his father issues off camera) has father issues, but the one member that reflects him the most is Pickles. Pickles has a horrible relationship with his father. I'm going to be honest, I don't think they have a single scene together where they talk to each other other than the flashback. "Fatherklok" is the one I want to focus on because that is where we see Pickles and Toki coming together to talk about their fathers, and what they have to say about them.

In the beginning, Toki says to Charles, "So, my dads just died. and I'm totally cool with it." (He's lying.)

Pickles says, "Look, I got no relationship with my dad other than I hate him, you know? [Flashback] You know, I realized the other day that I don't even know his first name. And I'm proud. I'm proud to know that I don't know that." (He is also lying.)

Through out the beginning, we see Pickles (And Toki in the very beginning when he's talking to Nathan in the kitchen but mostly Pickles) trying to get Murderface to "father" him a little but is chased off my Murderface while he favors Skwisgaar. This enrages him and he is seen destroying his endangered animals room.

Pickles says, "Why does Murderface favor Skwisgaar over me? What's wrong with me?" Which Toki asks if Murderface is really doing it and asks how it's going while looking sad. Pickles says it's going great and asks, "What about us?" Toki says he's being totally excluded and Pickle says, "Just like my old man did to me," with Toki agreeing. They both agree this is going to screw them up with Pickle's destroying a Murderface cup.

So at this point, we are aware that Pickles and Toki have lingering emotions about their father, about being excluded, but also rage. This obviously concludes with Pickles beating up Murderface, with Toki joining in. So, this episode shows how Toki and Pickles relate to their rage about their fathers.

But what about their mothers?

"Motherklok" is a completely different vibe, with Pickles trying his best to form a relationship with his cold and distant mother, Molly. The episode is about Pickles changing himself in order to please his mother so they can have a relationship, something Pickles is still clinging on to. It's most likely not the first time their this has happened. As it goes, Pickles finally ends up breaking away from that toxic relationship when nothing pleases her by telling her to "Go Fuck Yourself." To me, this says that both Molly and Calvert were actively neglectful and abusive parents to Pickles on their own, and not together. Whereas with Toki, it seems that the abuse came mostly from one source, his father, with his mother following his commands. While we do not see the Toki and Pickle's parallel in the episode itself, there is evidence throughout other episodes that, unlike Pickles, Toki was able to form a relationship with his mother.

Toki and Anja's Relationship

Pre-Dethdad Death

Speaking Terms

I think the biggest cue that Toki has a relationship with his mother and it's on good terms is that they talk to each other. In the beginning of "Dethdad", we see Toki getting a call from his mother. We know it's from his mother because he says, "Mor?" which is Norwegian for "Mother." The full translation is from the Metalocalypse Wiki:

«Hellos? – Mor? Ja... kreft? Han er nesten død? Han hoster opp blod? Okay, ha det bra!» "

"Hellos? – Mother? Yes... cancer? He's almost dead? He coughs up blood? Okay, goodbye/see you!"

From this scene, we can tell that,

Anja has Toki's number

Toki wouldn't just give his number out to his parents after having no contact with them in over 10 years without some kind of compromise. I believe that Toki giving his number to his mother was that compromise.

Toki picks up the phone for his mother

In "Dethmas", it is concluded that the band can see the names of whoever is calling before answering. The scene of Nathan, Pickles, and Skwisgaar getting calls from their mothers, ignoring them, then getting calls from each others mothers, while continuingly ignoring them is telling to how Toki picks up his phone. There was no hesitation in Toki picking up his phone. I don't believe that Anja would have her own phone until after Aslaug's death, so Toki asking "Mor?" to clarify it's her is more aligned with Anja using someone else's phone. But even having getting that clarification, he does not end the phone call and continues it. She has probably called him before with this same method.

Anja is speaking

Anja is from a cult where they value mutism. Her choosing to call her son herself instead of getting someone else to do it is a spiritual sacrifice. She is putting her values aside to talk to him personally and give this terrible news about his father. She is controlling something about her and Toki's relationship, the act of communication. How many times do you think she has spoken to Toki while he grew up that wasn't under the eyes of Aslaug?

This is important in terms of their relationship because in "Dethfam", Toki has not spoken in 3 days and was catatonic. Going from that to having a full conversation with his mother on the phone is a huge step. Not only that, but the conversation starts and ends appropriately. There is a hello, there is a good bye. There is a small but meaningful conversation happening between them.

In the same episode, we do see Aslaug speak to Toki, but we don't know exactly what he said. We do know it was a demand. What was it? CARRY ME UP THIS MOUNTAIN AND PUT ME IN MY CHILDHOOD COTTAGE! And what did Toki do his entire life? CARRY HEAVY OBJECTS UP MOUNTIANS! His last and quite possibly only words to Toki was a demand to carry another heavy object up a mountain. The difference between these two conversation sets each parent apart as in how they view Toki.

Post-Dethdad Death

Secret Santa Presents

The last time we see Anja is during "Dethmas". I'll go into detail about Anja herself but for now, lets focus on what interactions we do see. Toki and Anja don't physically interact, unless you consider Toki and Anja standing next to each other before boarding the Dethbus a physical interaction. What we do see however are the presents Toki buys for his secret Santa. One of those presents are for his mother!

Now mind you, there has been 6 episodes in between "Dethdad" and "Dethmas", including "Renovationklok" which states a nine month time jump. In the episode, Nathan speaks to the boys about not giving their mothers alcohol because of "last time". This alludes to their being at least one Christmas before this Christmas episode. So Toki and Anja have had one Christmas together already. (Toki does state after they view the Christmas DVD that "their [mothers] are going to ruin Christmas" but this more likely to alludes to the drinking and horniness than them actually being there, as they all share the same Christmas spirit as him.)

This means that Toki's relationship with his mother has developed so much that he is comfortable enough getting her a present. But also the quality of the gift will probably high. Toki states to the rest of the band when they won't agree to secret Santa that, "I aints listens to you no more! I'ms going shoppings! Yes! Shoppin's! To buy each and every ones of yous a gifts! and I wants to sees de looks on all your fat fucking faces whens I gives you greats presents! Ha Ha! Fucks you!"

Toki was out buying presents for his loved ones with the clear intention of them being good presents. He has gifts for all of the members of Dethklok, Charles, Dr. Rockso (that god damn back stabbing son of a bitch), and his mom! He does not get a gift for any of the other mothers or anyone else, just these people. This clearly shows that Toki values his mother enough to get her a good Christmas gift.

Dethbus Scene

This is a small scene, but I wanted to highlight how the other mothers speak to their sons (and the other members plus Knubbler) VS. Toki and Anja. The other mothers are comfortable enough to yell and hit their sons and the other members while trying to find a parking spot. Now, neither Toki or Anja speak during this scene, but it's also important to note that the other mothers have never spoken poorly to Toki or hit him before. Whether this is because the dynamic between Toki and his family is a lot more psychological (to showcase his own kind of parental abuse) or Anja (and Aslaug) have a clear boundary that only they can speak or hit Toki, is up for interpretation. But the point is that Anja has never said a bad word to Toki or hit him on screen other than that one flashback whereas the other mothers have! It sets them apart from the rest of the group.

(Granted! Toki may be so screwed up that being around his parents might make him act more appropriately, but the later half of the episode kind of disproves that with the drinking scene and Toki trying to fight Dr. Rockso in clear sight of his mother.)

Their relationship as mother and son has improved since the death of his father. It's not perfect, and it probably never will be. Anja herself has to go through a lot of personal growth before I think Toki and her will ever have a normal relationship. That's why her relationship with the other mothers is so important for her and Toki's relationship.

Anja Post Aslaug's Death

Dethmom's Girl Group

Toki and Anja's relationship will not change until Anja herself changes. Anja is a victim of a cult, where her choices were taken from her. Now with her husband dead, she is able to finally branch out and do things for herself. It will take years for her to fully express who Anja is, but her relationship with the other Dethmoms are so important to this development. "Dethmas" shows us that Anja has taken refuge with the other mothers, something we do not see Pre-Dethdad.

The Dethmoms, while not the best bunch, are probably the closet Anja has to friends. We do not see her with friends beforehand and the people at Aslaug's deathbed are (I am assuming) are Aslaug's family and their congregation. Anja is around four very different types of women, all of which have very different views, mannerisms, and styles. This is something she would have never been allowed near in a cult, especially one that values her modesty, mutism and devotion to Christ. (It's believed that her cult is Christian based, and her veil is closet to a Christian nun.)

These women are all very different from Anja and yet! They are genuinely happy to be around her and have her as their friend. "Dethmas" proves this!

We have Serverta, who's most obvious traits are her provocative style and manners, as to Anja's cloak and veil. Molly is from a heavy drinking family, something that Anja is never seen doing. Then there is Stella, who's way of speaking differs from Anja in both vocabulary and volume, while Anja is still silent around the group. Then there is Rose, the all American typical housewife, with a mostly normal life, something Anja does not have.

An important aspect of their relationship is that they include Anja in their adventures, even when she herself may not be 100% in. During the flashbacks to their first Christmas, we see Anja with the girls while they are fooling around getting drunk and messing with each other sexually. They don't push her past her limits and instead, let her do her own thing while with them.

They don't pressure her to play twister (She's not seen in the photo). They don't come on to her in the sauna and instead let her make a move on someone else (I find this incredibly important to the flashback of Anja with Aslaug in bed! This is Anja making a move on her own and exploring her choices and NOT having someone on top of her while she looks away. SHE'S TOUCHING THEM! SHES LOOKING! SHE'S FULLY DRESSED! This is obviously her choice! Sexual freedom! Lesbian maybe??) They don't make her drink or participate with the male strippers. This is something she is never seen doing, which also separates her from the group but never excludes her.

A deleted scene where Dr. Rockso (why did they give him such a fat ass here?) is entertaining the moms during the same episode shows Anja in a skimpier dress and actually participating in the strip tease show. (Could this be where Toki gets his love for clowns? Maybe!) This, mixed in with the scraped "Sexy Dress" Anja, is probably set after Murderface gets funding for his Christmas Special and the moms need to be entertained in the montage. Point is, they always include her and never push her past her boundaries and let her make her own decisions. Which brings us to the mall!

The group actively acknowledges Anja and speaks to her like a true friend. They see her as who she is but also someone who is worth change. The conversation before her makeover goes as such:

"You know something, Anja. Now that you're single maybe you should find your sexy side?" - Rose

"Ooh, let's do a fucking makeover and make Anja a little sexy kitty cat." - Stella

The group is shown helping Anja find something else to wear and picking out makeup behind Murderface's phone calls. Could you imagine being in a cult for years, wearing the same thing as everyone else, and then suddenly these people who care about you, and see you as a woman and a friend, want to help you change into yourself?

I also like the detail of Serverta trying to get Anja to wear the scrapped skimpy dress from before but Rose comes in with a scarf instead and then Serverta appraises it! Like, she held up what she believes Anja could pull off (Serverta wants the girls to be girling) while Rose recognizes it might be too much too early and chooses just a simple touch instead. Serveta is supportive about it as well! They aren't pushing her into someone she isn't, they're working toward giving her self confidence and finding out who she is! Girl groups are so important for this very reason. Anja probably never had a "And we were girls together" moment. This IS her moment! They just want the best for her, which is probably so different from her life before. She is experiencing for the first time what life can really be like without the cult or her husband.

At the end of the episode, we know that the mothers get drunk and crash the Christmas Special. All but one is seen drinking, Anja. Despite their drunkenness, they still include Anja. Molly even sits next to her on stage. But not only that, ANJA IS SEEN WEARING HER SCARF AND MAKE UP FROM BEFORE! There have been multiple days since they went to the mall so that means she bought and kept the scarf and make up. SHE PUT IT ON HERSELF AND WANTED TO FEEL PRETTY! SHE WANTED TO JOIN IN ON THE ADVENTURE AND DO HER OWN THING! This is a step toward making her own choices and boosting her self-confidence! Anja is slowly but surely finding herself within the girl group!

Obviously, this group of women are not the best women Anja could have chosen, but's the group she needs. They are loud, boisterous, sexual, crazy, and opinionated women. They are not afraid to do stupid shit like their sons and have fun. They also all have done something to their children, so none of them can judge the other too harshly. Anja is in a boat of similar women, those who have done bad things before but are still living, still growing, still caring about their sons either way. It would be hard for Anja to be in a group of women who have been perfect, kind, and had a happy life with no parental/child issues. Anja sees these women as the only ones who could ever truly understand her. Hopefully, with more time, Anja will become the woman she never dreamed she could be with the help and guidance of her friends.

Counterpoints

I do want to point out some counterpoints in this theory just to round it out.

Narcissism and Indifference

I know that there is also a good chance that Anja may just not care enough about Toki to feel either way about him. Her inaction could be just that, inaction. Anja could have had all the power in the world to stop Aslaug from abusing Toki and she chose not to, because she simply did not care enough about him. Anja could be narcissistic and only care about Toki in the sense of, "What does that have to do with me?" She'll accept the gifts, she'll make the phone calls, but it's all about what she wants or what her husband wants. She could have very well only called Toki because she needed something from him for her dying husband and nothing more. Toki is a very rich man and with Aslaug gone and unable to provide for her like he once did, she might be using Toki's kindness as a way to care for herself and herself alone. The other Dethmoms do show signs of narcissism, just like their sons. It would not be far to believe that Anja is the same way. When the cross falls on Toki during "Dethmas", Anja is sitting right in front of him, listening to him scream. She does nothing. She probably listened to Toki's screams as a child and did the same thing. Nothing.

Toki's Imagination

Toki has a very vivid imagination and a desperation for love and connection. Toki also has a very hard time in picking good and long lasting friends, giving people more chances then they deserve with him.

We see this with Dr. Rockso. Dr. Rockso is a constant pain in Toki's ass, hurting him and using him for drugs, but Toki and him still hang out all of the time. Toki considers Dr. Rockso to be his best friend even. (Granted, Dr. Rockso did stop those addicts in Doomstar Requiem so Dethklok could save Toki but still.)

We see this with his own father in "Dethdad", where he chooses to forgive the man who abused and neglected him all of his life. What person would do that? Someone who wants a connection with their parents no matter what. That's why Toki is so upset when he drops his father and he drowns under the lake. Despite this man abusing him beyond comprehension, Toki still finds it in his heart to forgive while desperate enough to cry over him.

Everyone Toki has ever loved has died. His guitar teacher, the little girl, his cat. All of them have died after he has or went to make a meaningful and loving connection with them. His mother is the sole person left of his immediate family. Toki would be desperate to make amends with her and try to have a connection and Anja, with no one else to turn to, accepts. Toki could very well be blocking out or ignoring the abuse that she has done to him in favor of remembering his father's so that he can forgive her easier and have a relationship.

We see this desperate attempt to make his childhood seem better and normal in "Dethzazz" when Toki is talking to Dr. Twinkletits about his childhood. He says he loved it while showing active abuse on the screen. In "Fertilityklok", Toki desperately wants to start a family and get a wife/girlfriend after being sick and tired of just random women. In "Dethcamp", Toki's desperation for a connection is clear when he goes to camp to meet up people and make friends, even letting people pick on him for his diabetes to fit in. In "Diversityclub", Toki is feeling left out and makes his own club so that can be included and accepted. In "Breakup Klok", Toki does not venture out on his own, but instead stays with Murderface as an unpaid intern to stay close with someone he cares about and cares about him. In "Doublebookedklok", Toki is acting out because of Charles being so busy by hitting people but once Charles tells him "everyone thinks you're really cool" and "you don't need to hit people to get their attention", Toki runs to hug him and he cries. In "Doomstar Requiem", Toki even refers to Magnus while chained and abused as "My friend!" Who calls their abuser "My friend"?

Toki blocking out the bad and accepting scraps of affection and connection is not out of the ordinary. He craves it and wants it more than anything in the world.

Conclusion

I believe that Anja Wartooth is a victim a cult and was unable to raise her son the way she wanted to and instead had to do as her husband said. However, years of being in a cult changed her, and she lost who she was in favor of keeping with the cults demands and wishes and creating a new "normal" for her. Aslaug was the main abuser toward Toki and hardly allowed Anja and Toki to be together without his supervision. Toki and Anja have a developing relationship since "Dethfam" and it has been shown to be improving over the years, especially after the death of Aslaug. Anja is slowing find herself through her connections and friendships with the other Dethmoms.

Anja and Toki have a long way to go but I do see them having a much better relationship with Aslaug out of the way.

______________________________________________________________

I hoped you enjoyed this analysis. I love Toki and his mother is super interesting to me. If we ever get an epilogue, I hope we see Anja again. Hopefully away from the cult and much happier.

[scarlet--wiccan]

Is there a stated (specific) reason why the high evolutionary kidnapped the maximoffs, experimented on them, then gave them back? Did he have a specific goal in mind or was it just general mad scientist stuff? Were they targeted for a specific reason (beyond the implied racism ofc), or would any babies have worked? Were there other babies experimented on? Was it Bova’s, Natalya’s, or someone else’s efforts to get them back to their original family? (because it seems kind of out of character for THE to make an effort to return the children he stole and then experimented on…)

Yes. Wyndham's motives are clearly stated in Scarlet Witch. The timeline of events after the children were taken is left somewhat more ambiguous, but we can piece it together from context.

In Scarlet Witch #11, the priest, Drobnjak, explains to Wanda that the Evolutionary had been sending his Knights out on raids to locate human subjects-- specifically children-- with latent powers or supernatural abilities for him to study and augment. Drobjnak was aware, at the time, of a witch's family living in the area and figured that the children would have inherited some of their mother's power, so he gave the Knights their location in the hopes that they would leave the area once they found what they were looking for.

In other words, he sold them out. There's a pretty clear undercurrent of racial and religious prejudice on Drobnjak's part, and Wanda explicitly points out that he was comfortable sacrificing her and Pietro to ensure the safety of his own community and parish. But for Wyndham, the twins were viable test subjects because they had latent powers.

A lot of people-- myself included-- forget this detail, but the twins were already living with Django and Marya when the Knights abducted them. Natalya had apparently left them with her brother and his wife while she was off doing, you know, dangerous superhero witch stuff. So, the twins were actually taken directly from Django and Marya, and later returned to them. This contradicts previous accounts of their adoption, but it's also a lot easier to believe that Wyndham basically put them back where he found them, rather than going out of his way to locate their family. It lines up with Wyndham's account in Uncanny Avengers (2015) #4, as well, which was probably important for Robinson since he was building directly on top of that retcon.

Here, he states that Django and Marya are their "true parents," but it's a discrepancy that's easy to forgive if the twins were already living with them before Natalya's death.

It's worth noting that in most older versions of the story, he actually shows a lot more concern for the babies' well-being, and he's the one who goes out of his way to find them a loving home with parents who'd recently lost their own children. Obviously, that's a very different character treatment from what we see in these mid-2010s stories, but my point is, it's not impossible for me to believe, based on what we already know about Wanda and Pietro's origins.

I think it's probably safe to assume that Bova did urge Wyndham to return the twins to their family when he was done with them. That's what happened in their previously established backstory, and there's nothing here to contradict it. But Robinson makes no effort to justify Bova's now-false accounts of the twins' birth or explain how and when Chthon got involved-- I don't think he's mentioned once in the whole series-- and Natalya's death is still a mystery. I suppose we don't even know if Wyndham was aware of Natalya's identity or knew that he she tried to get her kids back-- it just never comes up, and nobody's touched this storyline in nearly ten years.

[crime-soncloud]

For @mizuribbons (mod Mizuki in @proseka-headcanons ) since they wanted to hear my gender HC's for pjsk, and also it's good to get them! So sorry for spamming some tags, and with no delay:

My Gender Headcanons for Project Sekai Characters

Ichika Hoshino: Transfemme, she/star, stolen from the two different Mod Ichika's from both the headcanon blog and the L/N incorrect quotes blog. Transistions in middle school, after getting gender envy from Miku, defines herself as a trans girl, and only L/N, and their families know, not due to fear just never felt the need to. Bought a Blahaj for everyone in L/N, and will wear some small pins, with unironed flag in room. No fashion sense (Mizuki and Saki save star)

Saki Tenma: Transfemme, She/her, transistions in hospital (was how she found out), fairly public, has so many pins, loves the transgender symbols (blahaj, flag, celeste) and defines herself as a trans girl. Blahaj all over social media, and her Trans flag is often fashioned into a cape. Perfect fashion

Shiho Hinomori: AMAB Non-binary, he/she/they pronouns (the only reason I'm mentioning assigned at birth is because all of L/N transitioned from male) first to transistion, and doesn't hide it but doesn't talk about it. No symbols, definitely prefers being called Non-binary but fine with being called female by close people. L/N, their families, and Minori + Kohane know. Has NB flag in bedroom and blahaj right in the center of bed (never admits it) and considering Neo's. Knows what he likes to wear

Honami Mochizuki: Transfemme she/her, transitioned last, just before High school. Won't tell anyone, because of the stuff that happened in the past, and same as Ichika, only L/N, Shizuku and Tsukasa know (plus parents and unnamed siblings) Blahaj on bed but flag (gifted by saki) kept neatly in closet just in case. Alright fashion but dresses like a grandma

Honami and shiho to a lesser extent both fall into a category where multiple hc's I use, normally cis, but also Tmasc NB for Shiho. Tmasc/cis Ichika and Saki nahhh not personally mine (but i don't mind others, and I know Tmasc Ichika popular but I prefer fashion disaster/butch Transfemme Ichika)

Minori Hanasato: transfemme, she/her (do you see a pattern yet /silly), transistioned early on (like junior school) when she was introduced to Idols. Doesn't share it much, especially in Idol mode because of how it would treat her, but like literally all her friends, especially Shiho and Kohane, and a fairly consistent group in the MMJ fandom know. Ends up (when I eventually write it) coming out on stream along with another character (ooo mysterious), calls herself trans girl

Haruka Kiritani: cis, she/her but considering she/they, hasn't properly considered it because she's always been too busy ("I know something's going on but I've got idol work to do). Not much to say

Airi Momoi: Transfemme, she/her, same rough story as Minori but hid it much earlier and better, and realised slightly later than Minori. Only Shizuku, Ena, Akito, and later Minori knew, before also coming out during the stream. Bought a bunch of stuff with Minori (Blahaj donated by Mizuki and also Ichika) and has regular segment about queer stuff in Idol culture.

Shizuku Hinomori: a difficult one, but I think Cis. Would probably not have ever properly thought about it, but would use she/they eventually. Idk I don't have many ideas about it.

Shizuku could also be transfemme and I'm great with it, and Tmasc/NB I can vibe with. Don't really feel interested with other gender headcanons. All the idols have amazing fashion

Kohane Azusawa: Cis... I haven't got much to say, but literally any gender headcanon I'm alright with. I haven't properly thought about it before but none really resonate hugely (although do give me propaganda). Probably uses they/them along with either she/her or he/him. Demi something?

An Shiraishi: Cis (with she/they) or Transmasc (he/they) mainly because of the dynamic with Mizuki. Mid fashion sense, needs Help from Akito and Mizuki, but does have a few pins and Blahaj (courtesy of Mizuki) if Tmasc, and Fine either with Male or Non-binary. If trans, learned from Mizook and Public-ish: VBS, family, Haruka, Nene, Rui, Minori all know... Also Ichika and Shiho kinda know. Doesn't really care for labels

Akito Shinonome: alright... So either Transmasc with he/him, or transfemme with she/her, I slightly prefer Femme but both are amazing. If masc, realized when young, if Femme then Ichika, Rui, and Mizuki dressed her up and there was just a "... Shit this is me" moment before breaking into happy tears. Either fine fashion with Masc, or horrendous with Femme and needs Mizowoki help (I've started making Zukis name more difficult to read). No merch (but Mizuki anonymously gives him/her a blahaj) and only Ichika, Rui, Mizuki, Toya, and eventually Ena (I'll be getting to him/her later) know. Defines as trans boy/girl

Toya Aoyagi: same kinda deal, either Masc or Femme, he/they or she/they and some kind of Neo's. If Masc, his father is fine with it, if Femme... Then they're getting there (came out after Main story if femme, pre story if masc). Tenmas (and Ichika and Mizuki weirdly enough) know for masc, and Only Mazoki knows for femme. No symbols, and horrid fashion either way, Akito and Zuukai desperately help (Akito has no idea why). Defines as trans (woman/man)

VBS is difficult, literally any allignment I'm fine with, the Cis Akito/Toya I'm fairly ambivalent to, and Transfemme An is fine (really good in the right context with Mixukzo) but everything else I HC strongly. Femme Kohane is pre story, Masc or NB is during the first arc.

Tsukasa Tenma: once again Femme or Masc, Masc before the main story (switched names with Saki) if Femme then it takes embarrassingly long (like everyone knows except her, and has to be basically pushed to the answer). No fashion, needs literally everyone's help, and Gets so much merch from L/N, and WxS. Very public, Either he/STAR or she/STAR (capital letters important /silly) and STAR had an entire performance/show to present STARs coming out. BIG ass flag. I should probably do a full post for him/her but for now this is it

Emu Otori: cis or Tfemme, she/her and Fun/funs. Extremely public, all the merch (including drawings of flags next to actual flags) and dresses exactly how fun wants, but from the outside is a fashion disaster.Knew very early on, from her sister (who is also transfemme) All the Blahajs, pins, lots of stuff. Happy to talk about it, but is aware of transphobia, but is ready to deal with stuff. I might elaborate more in the future

Nene Kusanagi: again, Femme or masc. Either way knew before main story, and either way he/she/they. Rui and Mizuki know, and then the rest of WXS and Ichika found out. his parents and Rui's parents also know, and that's it, very careful about being out because of a similar reason to Honami, very nervous about others knowing. However they have got so many flags, pins, and Blahajs from WXS and Ichika. Somehow just as bad fashion sense as Tsukasa, but does not realise it. Luckily Akito and mizu can help (with a fair amount of arguments).

Rui Kamishiro: transfemme, she/her and a wide array of Neo's from a variety of places. She is a pronoun magpie (and I'll use them throughout). So Show knew since she met Mizuki (gender crisis as soon as zey found out about being trans) and hid it until High school, specifically meeting Mizuki again, where they both worked to help transiston. However, doesn't hide being trans, and any shitty people are immediately sassed back. Once again no fashion sense, needs Mizowoki's help, and got loads of gifts from WXS. Fae absolutely helped Nene and Tsukasa come to terms with their own gender struggles. Army of Blahaj and flags.

I'm fine with all gender hc's for Rui, and Nene, apart from Cis Rui this being is NOT CIS (silly) but I prefer femme for both (though I do still like mascnene) and I think NB Emu or Kasa are fun. Also ciskasa.

Kanade Yoisaki: Kanade also hasn't really thought through gender stuff, too busy making music and saving Mafuyu, but would probably use she/they and be a demi girl. Has to learn from Ichika and Mizuki. Never thought about fashion, completely fucking useless with clothes, but that's a given.

Mafuyu Asahina: either Transfemme and Her mother was super manipulative and used it to try and get "the perfect daughter", also had never really been allowed to properly explore how she wants to express her gender. Or, Transmasc and learned online/from Mizuki, and immediately realised he fit with it, and instantly cut his hair (horrendously, Mizuki and Ena were horrified). Either way came out to N25 after a while, and that was pretty much it. Both ways, has no proper fashion sense and needed help. No symbols until Mizuki sent a small pin, which Mafuyu cares for immensely. He/they or she/they depending on gender (but needed to think about it with Mizuki) and considers neo's. Their father is fine, if a bit uninformed, but their mother is... Well it's Mafumom. There's a lot I should probably add to it, but that's it for now. Or maybe just cis but uses she/they

Ena Shinonome: this is reliant on Akito's identity. If He is transmasc, she is transfemme, but if Akito is transfemme, Ena is transmasc. Either way, Akito and Airi know, Akito and Ena actually came out to each other on the same time, and were annoyed at each other for stealing their moment, before genuinely supporting each other, and helping the other with transition. Ena is perfect with fashion..(and is fine dressing both feminine and masculine) and hair, and deliberately did not trade names with Akito. Same journey as Akito but flipped (if femme knew when young, if masc then Mizuki helped). Came out to N25 when Mafuyu did, and got a blahaj from mizuki immediately. Has a flag (perfectly ironed unlike Akito) and the siblings both have a blahaj (and will often steal each others) considered they/them but hasn't made a decision (basically Idk)

Mizuki akiyama: ... Do I even need to say? Transfemme, she/they, only out to Rui and An in the beginning (and family), but will eventually come out to friends (N25 when comfortable and Ichika when star asks genuinely). Obviously great fashion, hair, came out during middle school, not public at all. Has an army of Blahaj, and a very wrinkled flag. Weirdly enough I don't have much to say, but that's because it's all kinda obvious.

N25 all fit most trans hc's, apart from Mizuki. If you Headcanon Mizuki as cis or transmasc then honestly? Block me, I'm normally fine with other headcanons but this one is just like kinda non-negotiable. Nb or femme Mizuki or bust. Sorry for getting a bit rude but yeah.

Anyway... Rin and Len are both trans, one is masc and one is femme, one lies and one tells the truth, if you cannot figure out which then they won't let you pass (/silly) but yeah they're twins and trans

Luka, Meiko, and Kaito are all transfemme, and Miku entirely depends on who created the Sekai.

Anyway hopefully this is alright Mod Mizuki! And of course anyone can jump into my ask box and talk about it.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 1

Warnings: None, readers under the age of 18 can read this since it is all fluff.

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

.❤️.

𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖚𝖕 to the small house and let myself in, not bothering to lock the door behind me. Dad would be home soon. I treaded into the kitchen and got myself grapes out of the fridge before running up the stairs into my bedroom. I set my backpack down by my desk and threw myself down on my bed, a feeling of elation filling me. School was officially out.

My bedroom was rather small, but large enough for a bed, bookshelves, a nightstand, a dresser, and a desk. The walls were a light pink and covered with posters of famous Quidditch players and a few Muggle singers (I especially fancied the Beatles). My bed had purple covers and two stuffed animals- a wolf and a cat. The furniture was all white, a small pink phonograph box sitting on the nightstand next to the bed.

There was also a window on the right side of the room, near the foot of the bed, parallel with the door. If I looked out it, I could see into the neighbors back garden. There was a calendar over the desk where I had marked the days off till my birthday. . . and to my first day back to school.

This upcoming school year, I wouldn't be starting seventh grade like all of my friends. Instead, I would be going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. True, I haven't gotten my letter yet, but my dad said I will eventually get one because my birth parents had gone. Not to mention, he had said, that had I showed signs of uncontrolled magic when I was younger.

I suppose he was talking about the time when I turned the principals' jacket from black to bright yellow just by looking at her during a teacher-parent conference. It was an accident though and no one knew what had happened except dad. Actually, dad was quite humored by the accident. Or maybe he was thinking about the time I had breathed underwater for four minutes. I'm not entirely sure.

Of course, my Dad wasn't really my biological dad, he was my adopted dad. My real Dad-and mum- were murdered eleven years ago. Well, almost eleven years. If I'm being technical, it was 10 years and eight months. They were murdered on October 31, which has always kinda killed Halloween for me.

I also have a twin brother who I've never met. His name is Harry Potter. He lives with my Mum's sister, my Aunt. Apparently she's a Muggle. I feel bad for him. He's also extremely famous in our world. He survived being killed by Lord Voldemort. I probably would've been killed, Dad says, If my parents hadn't hidden me.

My Dad is a Werewolf by the name of Remus Lupin. That has caused some significant differences in my life compared to other wizards and witches kids (at least, I would assume considering I've never actually met a magical kid- though I've seen them at Diagon Alley). On full moons ever since I arrived at his house, he's had to set up sleepovers or fake appointments or out of town trips so that the neighbor or one of my friends parents would let me sleep over. But I don't mind, I love him. Honestly, I couldn't be happier.

The way I got to my Dads house is still a bit of a mystery, put together in bits and pieces. My dad assumes that his old friend Sirius Black might've dropped me off. There was a letter from him explaining to Lupin that I was a secret, that my parents didn't want anyone to know that I existed, not even Dumbledore. That was something huge because Dumbledore was one of the greatest wizards of all time.

However, my dad doesn't know who dropped me off. He wasn't even home when I arrived on his doorstep. He had been in the north of the country on business for the Order. (That's the secret organization he worked for to try and take down Lord Voldemort).

Our elderly next door neighbor had seen me when she was setting the milk jugs out and she took me in when she found out Dad wasn't home. I'm just glad that she didn't read any of the letters. Even better, she didn't look at any of the pictures because that would've freaked her out- they moved, unlike Muggle photos which were stationary.

When Remus-Dad- came back, she took me out to see him with my bag and stuff, and told him where she had found me. He never had a chance to ask Sirius about it because by this time, he was in Azkaban.

I won't go into all the nitty gritty details because most people have heard about notorious killer Sirius Black. But, there's some part of me that thinks he may be innocent. I don't know why I believe that, but I do. It's something that I feel in my heart. But all the evidence points at him, so my feeling must be wrong. But I don't think I am. My feelings have never been wrong before.

Anyways, so where was I? Oh right, my father put me in a Muggle school when I was five. This was so I could learn Muggle classes like math and science and history. Actually, unlike most other kids, I find such classes fascinating. But it's not normal for magical kids to go through Muggle school. My father did it because he is a Werewolf.

See, he can't get many jobs in the Wizarding world because our people don't like Werewolves. I don't understand that, but perhaps that's because I'm biased as I've grown up with him and I love him. However, he can sometimes get jobs in the Muggle world because they aren't superstitious and because most jobs don't require him to work at full moon.

My greatest wish is to discover a cure for Werewolves (I'm sure I'll have to create it). I want to help Lupin. I think that's what my real father, James Potter, would have wanted me to do. After all, that's what friends and family do, right? They help each other.

Alright, so its the last day of sixth grade and I 'graduated' with all A's. It wasn't that big of a surprise, I study quite hard for all of my classes since I'm in the highest level classes possible. Plus, it's only sixth grade and rather simple.

My dad was still at work right now. At the moment, he was teaching classes for the ministry. There weren't many people in the class but it was our only source of income so we had to deal with it. I didn't know what the classes were about. It was probably defense classes because that was what dad was good at. I did know that the classes ended soon. They were only being held for a certain amount of time.

But enough about our problems. I would rather talk about the good things in our life. Like the fact that I get to meet Harry this year at Hogwarts! Since we're twins, we will end up going the same year which is super exciting! I know that our Aunt doesn't know I exist so I'm sure she couldn't have told Harry about me, but I have pictures of my mum and dad so I'll be able to prove to Harry that I'm his sister. It's in a locket necklace that I was wearing when I arrived at Lupin's house.

It's a silver necklace in the shape of a heart. It's just a little smaller than a lime and it opens. On either side of the inside are pictures of my mum and dad. My Dad has brown hair and brown eyes and he's wearing glasses. He's wearing a blue buttoned down shirt. He has a smile that lights up the world. He's holding baby me. On the other side is my Mum. She has red-brown hair and green eyes. Lupin says I look like her but I think I look more like James. I wear glasses and my hair is only red in the sunshine. Plus, my eyes are brown, not green. Perhaps I would look more like mum if I didn't wear my glasses. And if I had green eyes.

Sometimes I don't wear glasses because I only really need them for my left eye which at 16/20 vision while my right eye is 20/20.

Mum is holding Harry in the photo. He's got a chubby baby face and he's laughing about something funny. He has black hair just like our father and it's sticking out in every direction. He waves his fist in the air sometimes. We are all smiling.

Lupin has pictures of James in the house that I look at sometimes. There's also a wedding picture of James and Lily. Lupin had been there- but he was very camera shy. But, I'm content with the way things are.

The doorbell rang and I snapped the locket closed. Only Muggles rang the doorbell. Wizards, if any came- which most didn't- knocked. Dad would've just walked through the door.

I bounded down the stairs and opened the door.

"ELIZABETH!" My best friend Trang threw her arms around me. "Guess what!"

"Uhm, no idea." I said, hugging her back. "Come in?"

Trang came in through the door and I closed it behind me. "so what's up?" I asked again but I really didn't need to prompt her.

"I-got-accepted-to-Cincinnati-Hills-Christian-Academy-for-seventh-through-twelfth-grade!!! I told you I was going to test into different boarding schools right?"

I ran back her words in slow motion. Ah, okay, yeah. She had been talking about it nonstop but I didn't comment on this particular aspect.

"Where is this Cincinnati Hills-"

"Oh we call it CHCA for short." She said, grinning. "And obviously it's in Cincinnati."

I racked my brain. I was good with countries and capitals, not so much cities. "Er- what country is that in?"

"America."

My mind went blank. Then I said, "AMERICA! WHAT!"

"I know right! I can't believe it." Trang was practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

I sat down on the couch, feeling just slightly overwhelmed. "So it's a boarding school, correct?"

"No, I have to stay with an American family. It's called having a host family. Sometimes its a trade. Like if they had a daughter who wanted to come here to Britain, then we would trade."

"Do they have a daughter?" I asked, interested.

Trang laughed, "Trying to replace me?"

I laughed too. "Of course not." I winked at her. I wouldn't even be here to meet the hypothetical girl.

She grinned. "No, they were a childless couple but they lived near CHCA and they wanted to host me so I'm grateful."

"Imagine their American accents." I said, trying not to laugh.

She laughed.

We talked for another couple of hours until Dad came home through the door.

"Hey girls." He closed the door lightly behind him.

I looked up at him and my forehead creased in worry. He didn't look happy, though he had a light smile on his face. I stood up and Trang did too.

He smiled at Trang, "Are you staying for dinner?"

Crap, dinner. I closed my eyes, frustrated with myself.

"No, mum wants me home at five unfortunately." Trang said.

I looked at the clock "It's five twenty."

"Oh no." Trang said. She threw her arms around me and I hugged her back quickly. She rushed out the door, saying a quick good-bye to Lupin, and the door clicked behind her. I hurried to the kitchen.

I opened the refrigerator door. I needed to get a job this summer, something small hopefully. That way I could help bring in some money, even if it was Muggle money. Lets see, If 1 Galleon is the equivalent of £5.00, then I would have to make £5.00 to equal one wizarding coin. I bit my lip.

"Elizabeth?"

"Yeah Dad?" I asked, my voice going up an octave because I wasn't supposed to be thinking about getting a job.

"Are you okay? You seemed a little out of it when I came home." He set his battered leather briefcase on the chair.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to make dinner because I was talking to Trang." I said, my face still in the refrigerator door. There- I could cook the leftover chicken with rice and greenbeans and maybe potatoes if we still had any. Not that I liked potatoes but I'd already screwed up not having dinner ready.

Lupin laughed. "I'll go get changed and I'll be down in a moment."

"Okay." I said, pulling the chicken out and putting it on the counter. The refrigerator door swung closed and made a light click. I checked the calendar on the wall. Next week was full moon. I sighed. No wonder he was feeling so down. Unless it had to do with the Ministry classes. . . was this week the last week? No, I had thought they ended in August.

I put the chicken in the pan and put the lid on it. The rice went into another pan and the greenbeans in one next to that. I searched the kitchen for potatoes. We had a couple left. I washed it and cut off the yucky parts and put it in the microwave for six minutes.

As all of that was cooking, I grabbed my notebook out from underneath a box that Dad never moved. I grabbed my pen and opened up the book. I flipped to the back pages where I kept my job ideas.

I was only ten, almost eleven, so not many places hired. Actually, almost none. I could work at the pool in the snack bar. I would make £7 an hour. That wasn't a lot. If you thought about it, it was really like a Galleon a hour. If I worked a full 5 hours a day I would make £35. If I managed to work every day except Sunday, I could make £245. That would put me at around 49 Galleons.

I stared at the numbers on the page. Only 49 Galleons? I put the book down and flipped the chicken over.

But that was 49 Galleons a week, right? So in a month I would have. . .196 Galleons? How much were our bills? We lived in a Muggle house so we had to pay them in Muggle money, right? Or did the Ministry interfere and we had to pay in Wizarding Gold? I chewed on my bottom lip. It was all so overwhelming. I didn't have enough information and if I started questioning dad about bills he'd get suspicious.

I heard footsteps on the stairs and I flipped the book open to a new page with nothing on it and started jotting down a grocery list.

Once dinner was ready, I slipped the book back under the box and brought dinner out to Dad and a smaller plate for myself.

He looked at me, "You're not eating much anymore."

"I ate something else when I came home as well." I said. Technically, it was true, I'd had some grapes.

We ate in silence for a bit and then he said, "I have some bad news."

I bit my lip again. At this rate, I was going to make it bleed.

"The Ministry has stopped the classes a few weeks early." Dad said. So I was right, the classes were suppose to end in August.

"Of course." I said bitterly. "Stupid Ministry and their prejudices."

He smiled sadly. "I think you're the one who's a bit biased, don't you think? We are very dangerous creatures."

I scowled. He put a hand on my head and I leaned forward. He kissed my forehead and I felt that everything was going to be okay. We'd figure it out. He was my father after all. And he would always be around to take care of me.

⬅️ ➡️

[bandcampfun2021]

When it comes to the first Halloween 1978 and its immediate sequel Halloween II 1981, the two films are great on their own right. Halloween II (1981) actually ends in a way where it doesn't need any timeline films to continue the story of Michael Myers.

Seriously, after watching the disaster that was Halloween Ends (2022) and how Michael was basically pushed to the sidelines in favor of Corey, it's made me appreciate Halloween II (1981) much more. Even more so, each timeline starts out with a great first film--Halloween 4, H20, and Halloween 2018. And yet, each timeline torpedoes both the second and third films into something unrecognizable.

When it comes to Halloween II (1981), it manages to pick up perfectly where the first film left off and perfectly highlights what miscommunication can do to people, seeing what happened to Ben Tramer. The fact that it takes place in a hospital with dark shadows and lighting also scores massive points with me. The whole time Michael was in the hospital, I felt goosebumps and even was on the edge of my seat as he entered the NICU with a bunch of newborn infants.

Now, when it comes to the twist of the film, in all honesty, I find the twist not to be as bad as people think. I find it much more scarier than anything else.

If you think about it, by the morning of October 31st, 1981, Laurie Strode was just a normal everyday teenager, concerned with her babysitting duties and frequently exasperated and amused by the antics of her friends Lynda and Annie. In her mind, everything is perfect--she has a good job as a babysitter, she has two best friends, her life is going normal...

However, by the time midnight rolls around, Laurie goes through some serious trauma: hearing her friends making concerning noises and finding out what's happened to them and the fact she couldn't protect them...

Then, this mysterious masked man shows up behind her, wielding a knife, and she has to fight for her life. Someone she probably thought would never happen, given how peaceful the neighborhood was.

Now, let's go to Halloween II (1981), just hours after her nightmare began...

Within hours of her nightmare first beginning, she has to go through being in the hospital by herself, and her parents can't even be there because the news of her attack is still very new. It's likely very possible that both Morgan and Pamela Strode likely didn't get word of the attack until the phone-lines had been repaired.

While at the hospital, she finds out the identity of her attacker and completely panics, her mind going a million miles in each direction.

Finally succumbing to her exhaustion, this is where I think her repressed memories come int9 play.

The first thing I want to know is, "Who tells this to a child? I'm not your mother?" That's not the way to tell a child, especially one with a family history like Laurie's, that they're adopted. For me, this somewhat implies that the relationship between Laurie and her adoptive mother was strained at the very least before the events of Halloween 1978.

For those who don't know, the Halloween Chaos comics does shed some insight about what happened to the Myers parents after October 31st, 1963, and it is nothing short of heartbreaking: as a result of Michael's trial, Donald Myers starts drinking heavily while Edith Myers sinks into a depression. It doesn't take long for Donald Myers to ban any mention of Michael. Something that's also somewhat overlooked is that Laurie was only two years old when she lost her sister Judith Myers.

Not wanting to listen to her husband, Edith Myers does end up taking little three-year-old Cynthia (this was Laurie's birth name before the Strode family legally changed it) to see Michael at Smith's Grove on a few occasions. This is my interpretation, but I do believe the reason Edith took her to see Michael is because deep down, the poor woman was hoping that seeing his youngest sister would help bring back the little boy Michael once was.

Not only does bringing her to see Michael not succeed, but one day, little Cynthia babbles about Michael in front of Donald. This man proceeds to beat little Cynthia/Laurie (who's only three at most) until she stops talking. This is when I believe little Laurie started repressing her memories of her biological family due to her father beating her, her mother's depression, and being emotionally neglected at just two/three years old.

With this backstory in mind, this twist becomes more heartbreaking if you think about it. In just a span of few hours, Laurie goes from a normal teenage girl to someone with a dark family history she was completely unprepared for, someone whose name isn't even Laurie, someone whose brother hurt her in more ways than her adoptive family's secrets ever could...

And as if things couldn't get worse, Laurie is given no time to mentally process this reveal and the knowledge that her whole life has been a lie because her life is immediately in danger once more.

Even more so, when Michael comes after her in the boiler room, when Laurie calls out his name, it's full of confusion and hurt, almost as if she can't understand why. Why is her brother hurting her?

So, while some may find Halloween II (1981) a bit underwhelming, I think it's a pretty good sequel to the original Halloween 1978 film on its own right and concludes the story in a satisfying way that doesn't even need the other timeline films to be satisfied.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

this was supposed to be on kanato's bday but here goes nothing~ and yes this is dedicated to @hgug255

BONUS CHAP: hidden in a maze, wrapped around petals (Diabolik Lovers x Game of Thrones AU)

pairing: kanato x maya (my oc) [note: I used Maya's real first name here since it fits the au more]

STORY MASTERLIST

King's Landing has been in a festive mode because of the triplets' name days, and what way to celebrate their birth by rejoicing in their glorious feats and proudly speaking of their prowess as Karlheinz's sons?

How ridiculous, Kanato thought sitting by the staircase and watching how these people bark a laugh every now and then and make merry to one another. They did not come for our birthday. They came for the honor of their house and the blessing of our father.

It wasn't anything new for him, to be honest. After all, the three of them never delighted in these occasions. While their parents would force them to greet their guests and exchange a few pleasantries, they would still go on their way to avoid these events as much as possible. And thankfully, Kanato can hide by the staircase to just observe people.

Ever since he got his powers, he's seen everyone's past and future, which caused him anxiety and dread. Hence, he resolved it by sitting in one corner, minding his own business so he could hear no one.

Kanato sighed, his eyes bored, clutching Teddy to his chest and wishing the party would just end so he can lock himself up in his room and take a rest from all these things happening lately around him.

Parties.

War.

Mind games.

Peace treaties.

Deaths.

I've had enough.

"K-Kanato-sama," a feminine voice squeaked in fright, fully aware that the middle triplet was someone you should never bother during events like this.

He sighed in frustration, glaring at the poor maid. Why can't anyone just leave him alone? "What is it?"

"S-Someone left a note for you," the maid explained, handing the piece of paper to him. "S-S-She said you need to read it immediately."

Kanato narrowed his eyes at that, snatching the paper from the maid as she frantically left before he raised hell. Sighing, he unfolded the paper and read the contents, only to be surprised at what he read:

"Meet me at the garden.

- Mariya."

And so he left Teddy by the pillar and rushed towards the castle's garden maze, confused and enthusiastic at the fact that his fiancee decided to meet him in secret. Truth be told, the Feinze clan is notorious for its strict wedding traditions. During the long period of engagement, the bride wasn't allowed to meet the groom outside the Feinze castle premises until they get married. After all, the clan believes that the gods will punish those who defy these traditions.

Hence, Kanato spent his time going back and forth to meet Mariya. They would even go as far as to send each other letters, especially whenever he's travelling somewhere away from King's Landing.

Furthermore, the groom was not allowed to see the face of the bride until the wedding day. That's why whenever he visits her, there would be a silhouette partition separating them from each other.

And to think she went all the way here from the Highgardens to see me. She must be out of her mind, he thought turning on each and every corner of the garden maze to search for any sign of a smaller girl with long hair and pale skin (this was based on how his advisors described her).

Kanato was running out of patience, cursing to himself as to why Mariya made him run all the way here... until he finally saw her.

She was dressed in their usual Eastern gown and robes, her black hair decorated with red camellia ornaments as it flows down her back. There was a crest of the Feinze house on her belt, probably to make him recognize her in one glance. Nonetheless, Mariya was the epitome of a delicate mysterious lady from the Highgardens, donning a mask on her eyes so she would still retain the secret of her identity to Kanato.

Kanato panted for air, trying to catch his breath as he asked, "Why?"

"I..." she started, her cheeks blushing as she tried to find the words, "I wanted to see you—"

"No," he hissed, waving a dismissive hand. He walked towards her, his face inching closer to see the girl behind the mask as she tried to hide it. "I'm well aware of that fact. I wanted to know why."

"'W-Why?'"

"Why did you defy your house to meet me?" he clarified. "Your house is adamant about following the principles of the God of the Light. Yet, here you are sneaking out to meet me," then he muttered the last words, "and on my name day, nonetheless."

There was a momentary silence before she gained the confidence to speak.

"Your letter," she mentioned, remembering how the words seemed so sad and lonely when she read it. "I received your letter about your name day, and you told me no one has ever come for you and your brothers' name days just to see you."

Kanato's eyes widened in realization. A few days ago, he informed her he wouldn't be visiting her for a while because the House Sakamaki is preparing for their 18th name day, and this event was important because it's their second coming-of-age ceremony after joining the war 10 years ago.

And to think she defied her house—and even the gods—just to see me.

Kanato sighed in frustration. This girl will be the death of me. Then he shrugged. Well, she's already here now. Might as well make the most of it.

"Since you're here, I suppose a reward should be in order," he said, forcing himself to look indifferently even though he was quite happy that someone came specifically for him on his birthday. "I'll give you anything you want for today."

Mariya's red eyes widened in astonishment, seemingly anticipating this moment. "Really?"

"Well, hurry up or I'll change my mind."

Mariya thought for a moment since this was a once-in-a-lifetime request. After all, Kanato wasn't the type of person to let people get close easily. He's always wary of them no matter how nice they are.

After a few minutes, Mariya has now determined the reward she wanted from him, inching her face towards him as her eyes closed, sharp inhale of breath, and then time stopped. Everything was a blur as she laid her lips on top of his, quick like a feather brushing his skin. To say Kanato was surprised is an understatement. He was completely frozen at the gesture.

What in heavens—

Mariya pulled away as fast as she could, embarrassed and blushing at the fact that she made the first move. And she was aware it was unbecoming for a princess like her. After all, she is supposed to be wooed, not to woo a boy who is still thinking about a woman he was previously engaged with.

Kanato clicked his tongue in response, the fleeting kiss still reeling in his mind. "Why did you kiss me?" he asked, sounding a bit annoyed even though he wasn't, not even in the slightest.

"Because... you told me you'll give me anything I want today," she reasoned out like it was plain day.

"But you gave me a kiss, remember?"

"It might look like that, but the point is, you gave me a chance."

He raised a brow at that. "A chance for what?"

"I wanted to have a chance to convey my feelings for you," she started to explain. "I know your mind and heart still belongs to Lady Krestenne," her heart felt like a hard lump at that, "but I wanted you to know that someone attended your name day because they have sworn affection for you, not because you bear your house's name."

There was sincerity and clarity in her words, taking Kanato in a trance of realization.

She embodied the meaning of her name.

True love.

Ah, no wonder why. It fits her perfectly.

"I-Is that okay? Or... was it too forward of me?" Mariya started to panic, thinking things would not end well, and her engagement with the middle triplet might get called off. "I'm so—"

"... enough."

"Eh?"

He stared through her deeply, snaking an arm around her waist and placing one hand on her cheek. She was startled at the contact that she instantly held on his shoulders (soon, she will scold herself for this lack of tact).

"It's not enough."

And he kissed her deeply, memorizing her taste and how their lips molded against each other. His tongue would tease her every now and then, savoring the sweet moment of this bliss they call "love." Kanato knew this was the thing he had wanted for so long.

True, he used to go after Krestenne as she was his first bethroted. But that was then, and this is now. Now is when he was kissing the life out of Mariya.

But Mariya wasn't as experienced as him, trying to regain her breathing, but every time she would pull away, Kanato will just keep coming back for her taste.

More.

His arms are now around her waist as she tangles her fingers in his hair.

MORE.

His lips move down from her lips to her chin, peppering her skin with kisses until his breath ghosted her neck.

MORE.

And ever slowly, Mariya felt his fingers trying to undo the ribbons of her belt, which compelled her to gently push him away and prevent things from going further. There was a dazed and confused look on his face, questioning her motives.

"I... I wanted this as much as you do," she clarified, composing herself despite being a blushing mess. "But... I think this is not the right time."

Kanato was about to retort a childish spat until he finally understood what she meant.

Her family must be looking for her now.

He sighed in frustration. "I'll be visiting you again after a few days."

She nodded, gently taking his hand in hers as she kissed his cheek. "I hope you enjoyed your name day today."

"Oh, Kanato-kun, there you are!" Laito greeted from their shared study room. It has become a habit of the triplets to gather there, especially during big events. "But where have you been though?"

Ayato looked annoyed though, observing as the middle triplet walked towards them like he had done nothing wrong. There was something weird because Ayato saw Teddy by the pillar earlier and Kanato returned from the opposite direction of the hallway.

"The old hag was pissed though, looking everywhere for you so you can grant the guests a song," he informed. "You're lucky 'cause Gramps had to cover for ya."

"Ayato-kun's right, Kanato-kun," Laito chided, looking mischievous as usual so he can get information about his previous whereabouts. "You should thank old Gramps there or you might be in trouble."

"There's no need to worry. I just went somewhere to talk to someone," Kanato explained, not bothering to fill any missing details lest he wanted other people to find out about him and Mariya breaking the strict wedding rules.

"'Someone?'" Laito repeated, aware that their brother is not someone who makes friends that easily. "Is that person a friend?"

Ayato chuckled. "Don't tell me you went out your way here just to get your gift?"

Kanato smirked at him, hugging Teddy close to his chest. "I did."

Both brothers were surprised at that. "Did you like the gift? Laito asked.

Kanato nodded in delight. "Very, very much."

[featherfrond]

clangen time - block the tag bc im addicted

welcome to WyrmClan!

Living in the tunnels of a huge mountain are these tenacious and smart cats.

Our leader:

Curlystar wasn't the cat who started the clan: that honour belongs to Flipstar, who gave Curlyclaw her new name: Curlystar, giving her the gift of leadership through the darkest times. She'll need it, the Clan is currently in the grip of a famine, with only two warriors, the Clan is barely skating through. She's determined to lead her Clan safely out through the other side of this famine.

Our deputy:

Owlspeckle was born and bred in WyrmClan, and she knows the danger the Clan is currently in. Desperate to prove herself to Curlystar, and to herself, she's quietly plotting her next move.

Our cleric:

Asternettle is worried about how the Clan is going to pull through this famine, but she has faith that StarClan will help them. How? She's not quite sure, but she remains hopeful.

Warriors:

Briarears was desperate to become deputy, but he's begrudgingly accepted that until Curlystar's death, he'll be allocated to the role of helpful senior warrior. He's jealous of Owlspeckle's status as deputy, and is already plotting to get on her good side should she *mysteriously* become a leader overnight.

Ramblingpatch is uncertain about her role in the Clan, and is slightly suspicious of Briarears. The way he talks about Curlystar puts her on edge. However, she's pushed her fears to the side for the sake of her apprentice, who she's already very close to.

Apprentices:

Minkpaw is keenly aware of the shambling status of her Clan. Close friends with both Ramblingpatch and Fallenpaw, she gets all the gossip. Regardless, she's determined to protect her Clan to the best of her ability.

Fallenpaw is a bit more relaxed. He doesn't mind what pronouns get used for zem, or how close Ramblingpatch and Asternettle are. They're very close to Minkpaw, and know how easily she gets passionate about something. Sometimes, she feeds Minkpaw fake gossip, just for fun.

Kits:

Boragekit's parents died when his was very young: his mother of blood loss after giving birth, and his father of starvation after giving his prey to Boragekit. He doesn't remember his father very well, just that he was very kind, and had very soft fur. He's mostly being raised by Ramblingpatch and Asternettle at the moment.

That's WyrmClan! I'll probably make posts every 12 moons, or longer if nothing happens! :]

[sakurarisen]

εїз

Send εїз for an unimplemented HC!

Shayan is a major target for Shinra's researchers, regardless of OG or Remake verses. As the son of a SOLDIER, his genetics are something of a mystery to them; he lacks the checks and balances SOLDIERs have at a genetic level, and while he retains much of Zack's abilities granted to him through the program, albeit on a weaker level, Shayan's had them since birth and didn't need the mako infusions his father had to make them happen. He drew mako to him before his birth naturally, just like Zack draws mako to himself, and used to to aid in his growth - But that doesn't mean Shayan has it easy, either.

He's quicker than most kids his age, and physically stronger. He's lighter on his feet and a natural if you put a play weapon in his hand. He even has the bright, sky blue eyes of SOLDIER - But he's also prone to mako poisoning as he lacks the internal limits his father does, tending to draw in residual mako in his surroundings and quickly falling ill if not caught fast enough. He isn't quite on the same level as a SOLDIER when it comes to strength and speed, but he's certainly more so than other kids, and quick to learn, but not to fully comprehend - further affected by the fact he is just a 4 year old child. Just what other details lie in his genetics are unknown, but it's something his parents are keeping a close eye on - Especially since Zack and Sera know all too well how researchers in Shinra would likely kill to get their hands on him and pick him apart, which is a major reason behind Sera's escape from Midgar with him after his birth.

This isn't exactly unimplemented right now so much as it just hasn't really come up in threads? Canon has shown us children of SOLDIER members before, but as far as I'm aware, they also drop context and hints that they were already born and even small children at minimum by the time their parent joined up. Again, as far as I'm personally aware, there's no records in canon of any children born to a SOLDIER after undergoing the mako infusion process to become one - Which makes me (and @honorisen ) wonder if A. SOLDIER are rendered infertile, if not so closely so it would take a miracle to have children at all, and B. if there have even been children of SOLDIER... And just what that would mean for the child, considering one parent would be, technically, genetically mutated to some degree.

Never mind what this would mean to Shinra; if a SOLDIER had a child like that, with no recorded instances of it happening before... It's Shinra. A kid like that would probably carry some key information to their research, and they've snatched up people for less. Shayan would have been a high priority target I'm sure, especially given his relation to Zack, but not quite enough to actively hunt him down - Doubly so when he had backup within the company in the form of my Kunsel to throw them off his trail, and Cissnei as a mysterious benefactor (Rebirth nonwithstanding at this point XD). There's enough in place to throw Shinra off Shayan's trail and keep him covered and protected, but not enough to make him not a target, especially since it's because of Shayan's birth Shinra raided Sera and Zack's home a year after he went missing under the guise of 'your paperwork was forged' - They wanted both Shayan and Sera, and it had nothing to do with her paperwork being forged by Kunsel.

Again, not really unimplemented so much as I haven't had a chance to bring it up yet, with only a few nods between myself and @honorisen before, this, but yep - Shayan is a high-value target of Shinra's, but not one important enough they have to chase him down Right Now. Sera and Zack are totally ready to give their all to protect him from anything either way. <3

[empty-pizza]

thoughts on harrow the ninth chapter fourteen and fifteen

God, in this story, gets at a lot of things I find really interesting about immortal characters. Or at least, immortal characters as I want them to be portrayed — people who are just immortal. Not booming voices from the heavens. What happens when you live forever, but still talk and think like a normal person? If your indefinitely extended duration leads not to becoming a slow-talking sage, but just, being a normal person who's lived that long.

I have to wonder how much it's performative and how much it's natural. Does he cling to normal conversation, silly little jokes, or is it what he defaults to? Does he enjoy the effect that has, that their god speaks like a regular man, or does he do it because he wants no effect?

He's going to die. Will we mourn, or cheer? There's different ways to play this. He could be a decent man all along. He could be the worst one of them all. It makes me very curious.

The fact that the book keeps giving me things like that to think about is why I'm still enjoying it, because man, I'm 30% in and it feels like I'm at where the book should have started. All the setup before this is very justified and I can see it leading to great things, but Harrow finally feels like Harrow again and is interacting with what's around her in the way that works for a story.

I think this is the first confirmation I'm actually getting about there just, being other populated planets around. I like that; start as fantasy, pull back and show yeah there's people all over. God's kinda being a dick by saying BOE is an acronym and not saying what it stands for, though. There's a lot of implied history going on, if the cult was seeking out God's gang before God even knew about them. I enjoy when big information is dropped very casually. When it's not something God treats as a big secret (at least, not to his lyctors) but still naturally something Harrow wouldn't have known before.

lol big g knows her parents are dead. cat's out of the bag and schrodinger killed it. but he still didn't know the details of harrow's birth. i love secrets being revealed.

these are good conversations and all. i just want to see more movement, still. i want to see harrow push toward a goal.

i do not think harrow should tell him about going in the tomb though. i think he'd probably kill her. also, hmm, blood of eden. sure sounds mysterious.

oh, fifteen's short. let's read that too.

you know, i should have thought of this earlier, but i'm PRETTY sure harrow seeing the body is a new thing, not something that was true in the gideon timeline/memoryzone. maybe. hard to say. harrow never gave gideon the speech about how she's insane. but maybe she wouldn't have considering she hated gideon at the time.

who knows. maybe the body was the one who gave harrow the instructions to do a bunch of fucky shit and write the letters. i wonder if the body's presence was implied in the parts from harrow's perspective at the end of gideon.

this conversation does imply that it is the girl from the tomb, not gideon. i mean, it already basically said that ages ago, i'm just trying to keep an open mind (or coping, if you want to look at it that way). unless harrow's perceptions are really fucked up. the "she asked me not to tell you" definitely has some implications.

[proloser-spiral]

an idea i've had for a while. umineko spoilers. gotta be at least past episode 7 tea party for it to even make sense. I was gonna write a fic but... idk i feel like i just gotta get the idea out there before i explode because every time i try and write it properly i give up.

Basically, a universe where Lion survives that starts almost identically to what we know of the 1/2,578,917 they come from; after the funeral for Beatrice, the parents are challenged by Kinzo to solve the epitaph riddle. However, for some reason in this fragment (let's call it 1/5,153,834) Lion returns to the mansion while the parents are still in the middle of solving it, probably just forgetting something from their room, and decides to stay and help. Like before, they all solve it together and go to the Golden Land together, now with Lion in tow.

When things start to go chaotic this time, however, two things happen. For one, the trigger becomes stuck, set to explode. Secondly, in a panic, Lion barricades themself alone in the escape tunnel directly after seeing Natsuhi shot. The door gets stuck and it's impossible for anyone to get in or out either way. From that point, we don't know what happens to anyone else on Rokkenjima, only Lion alone. It's a catbox sealed only by a stubborn door.

Aware of the explosion to come, and with no other choice, Lion heads towards Kuwadorian for safety. There, they're met with the prison their own birth mother was kept in, but with no knowledge of their actual lineage that was only given to them through an invasion from the meta world, they are simply left in this sad and dusty little house left to wonder what it was for and how they could live on Rokkenjima their whole life and not know about it. Maybe there's a photo of Beatrice- either Castiglioni or Ushiromiya -around to give them some idea of who might have lived here, but they would only have context of the confusing funeral their grandfather had put on the previous day to relate it to.

From there, their position resembles that of Eva after the events on Rokkenjima. As the last remaining relative and technically an adult at 19, they are both recipient of whatever fortune Kinzo kept off of the island and made guardian of Ange. And of course, rumours swell as they always do. People question whether Lion was ever 'successor-sama' really, it would make it seem like they were innocent if they were ALWAYS bound to get the fortune, now wouldn't it? And why would a random grandchild get that position? They're not a direct child (from all anyone knows), and they're not even the first born grandchild! So it makes more sense to everyone that 'successor-sama' is a lie to cover up the true motive of inheriting the wealth.

I'm not sure exactly how Lion would be faced with the responsibility of being a parent, after the trauma of losing their own. Plus suddenly going from privately beloved child to the most scrutinised public figure. That and I think they might have a harder time fighting off Ange's other side of the family. They for sure wouldn't be the same kind of bitter as Eva, but it's hard to say exactly who Lion would be through trauma like that without the encouragement of someone like Will and the knowledge of being a shining light for someone else.

If there's blueprint, I'd say they'd reflect a bit more of Sayo at that point. Of course, Sayo was traumatised from a child, and built her whole life around said trauma, where Lion had that idealistic childhood that Sayo dreamt of, and each grew into distinctly different people because of it, but also I think that even with that much nurture there's still some nature that connects the two that could come out in these kinds of moments. So I'd say that perhaps Lion also reaches towards the fictional.

Honestly, if I was trying to tie it around, I could see Lion getting into Van Dine's work. They're mysteries that click in their mind the same way that mysteries clicked for Sayo. Perhaps they could be trying to reframe the tragedy they went through in this lense of a mystery, of there being a culprit and a scheme, of there being a reason, even though they were there and knew that death was ensured by terrible accident. It's them looking back at the tragedy the way Sayo looked forward at it. And, of course, specifically Van Dine because of Mr Willard H. Wright. Maybe Lion conjures him in a similar way that Ange conjures the seven sisters. He's just a personification of their mind based on this writing. It's sad and it's lonely but... they get to be together even in this world.

Anyway, that's the thoughts thanks for reading.

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Pedro Pascal

full name: Javier Delgado

nickname(s) / goes by: Javi

pronouns & gender: Cisman ( He/Him )

sexuality: Heterosexual

birth date: April, 2nd, 1975.

birth place: Santiago, Chile

arrival to merrock: 10 years ago ( 2013 )

housing: Rural Countryside

occupation: Bar Owner

work place: Tumbleweed

family: N/A

relationship status: Single, Divorced ( Early 2000's )

PERSONALITY

Javier is a rather private person, he tries to not talk about the demons that reside in the darkest and deepest corners of his mind, though sometimes with a few glasses of alcohol these will occasionally slip up, he maintains a stoic expression most of the time and is friendly and approachable, may even crack a joke every once in a while but there is always an aura of mystery to him, no one really knows that much about him even though some think they do.

WRITTEN BY: Harls (she/her), gmt+12.

BACKGROUND / BIO

triggering / sensitive content: death, war mention, infidelity, divorce

Santiago, Chile was the place that Javi grew up but it wasn’t the place that he ended up spending most of his days in. The life that was given to Javi was a gift from his parents, who had suffered a lot in their upbringing was what resulted in him being shuffled around a lot as a child, attempting to create a new story and new life with friends before a life event would happen which would cause them to move again. It was always something different, financial issues, a unsafe neighborhood, a growing family. He didn’t like it but he learnt to live with it, after all his mother did tell him to appreciate things no matter how big or small they were. Her words meant so much to him, and clung to her even as a child seeking and navigating the much greater world, which was why when she passed away due to an ongoing medical condition Javier found himself shattered if not broken into a million pieces.

Javi saw many places as a child and the move to America was probably the biggest of them all. With the war going on back home it only made sense for them to seek refuge and safety as well as shelter, he wasn’t an only child which was both a blessing and a curse but being surrounded by his elder sisters might have just been his saving grace giving him advice that he kept close to his chest even throughout high school though admittedly he wasn’t very good at keeping out of trouble, always being put down to the excuse of loosing a parent to the reason why he acted out, though it was more or less his ability to disassociate that got him sent there in the first place.

Having the need to focus on his life at some point after graduation, Javi tried numerous occupations but none were a good fit, the ghost of his high school education following him as he got fired, from not one, not two but four different jobs before his father sat him down and really asked him consider the path of life he was going to take. This was after the marriage and divorce that he had in the early 2000's to a woman he hasn't been in contact with to this day. The story was simple, they met in High School, became the typical 'Sweethearts' that everyone thought they would be, eventually married and attempted that whole life;

The downfall started when things hit a wall, or a lull as some might add it, Ashley Madison was becoming popular at this time and well it wasn't exactly hard to depict what happened. It wasn't exactly something he was proud of and he knew that the separation needed to happen considering there was no love in the relationship anymore but it was this discussion specifically that made him delve into his interests, and educating himself on what it might take to become bar owner, or a business owner in general. He didn't figure that it would take much considering he had business commerce and financial exposure in the electives of school and well he assumed that a lot of it would be learnt on the job anyways.

The move didn't happen right away but it was what brought him to Merrock in the first place, having eyed the vacant ( at the time ) bar called Tumbleweeds, it was a life that he always wanted to live; small town, farm, in the rural country side with a bar of the western aesthetic. It was perfect and and a easy decision to make that hasn't been regretted even to this day. 

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the fics I read and loved this month. A million ♥'s for all the authors who make this fandom a better place ♥

A special shoutout this month goes to the Wordplay Fic Challenge/ @wordplayfics​ and all the fantastic authors who are taking part this year. I'm slowly making my way through all the fics, so check out the collection and also keep an eye on the upcoming prompts. Prompt 6.1: Scramble

The Warmth of Your Body | zanni_scaramouche | omegaverse - full shift werewolves - pack dynamics - violence - blood - injury - magic - slow burn - no smut - 46k Harry's life has been destined by the stars. He is next in line to be pack Luna, mate of the pack's leading alpha, the Soleil. As surrounding packs continue to drop quiet and the threat of chaotic magic grows close, a mysterious Alpha Louis Tomlinson appears just in time to save Harry's life. But can he afford to trust this rogue's intentions are pure in the midst of a war? Harry finds himself caught between destiny and instinct as he battles with his duty to the pack and the immediate connection he feels. Or: historical full shift werewolf packs and Louis looking a little too attractive even when covered in blood.

some things fade (some never do) | we_are_the_same | fantasy - modern setting - magic - friends to lovers - exes to lovers - slow burn - mutual pining - emotional hurt/comfort - long-distance relationship - magical tattoos - 25k Matching tattoos. He’d never thought he’d be the type for tattoos to begin with, let alone matching or magical ones, but once Harry had put the idea in his mind it had never quite managed to disappear. And it had made sense. With their relationship a long distance one, this was simply another way of feeling close to one another. Of knowing where the other was, how they felt. It had made so much sense. Back then. * Three years after their break up, Harry calls.

to change how you see and what you believe | jaerie | mpreg - unplanned pregnancy - pregnancy kink - lactation kink - friends to lovers - 12k Harry and Louis are best friends who just happen to fall into bed with each other sometimes, it's not a big deal. After a drunken night of discussing their kinks, they wake up naked together. They don't remember what happened, but they've done it before and they'll probably do it again, but five months later, a surprise changes everything. or an I didn't know I was pregnant au

Darling, Just Hold My Hand | likelarry | mpreg - cabin fic - fluff - pregnancy kink - previous miscarriage - 10k Louis and Harry decide to spend a week at a skii resort with their families during the Christmas holidays. On Christmas night, Harry goes into labor but the family gets snowed in which forces him to give birth in the cabin in the middle of nowhere. Luckily, his husband is a surgeon who can help.

Hill Country | safetyfilm | farm/ranch - friends with benefits - internalized homophobia - unsupportive family - bittersweet ending - 11k Louis is a farmer. His family gives him hell for it, only because it’s not a nine to five job and he should set a better example for his siblings. When he's invited (scratch that, required) to pay a visit for a will reading, he has to double down on his work chores in advance. But spring break is just around the corner in Austin, which means Harry's free and he really, really wants to hang out.

Here's Your Perfect | brightgolden | omegaverse - arranged marriage - past Louis Tomlinson/OMC - misunderstandings - single parent - mpreg - pining - first time - 54k All finesse tossed aside, Harry yanks the envelope from Miss Eden’s hand. He hears her laugh, bright and cheerful as he tears into the envelope. His eyes skipping over the complimentary paragraph congratulating him for being assigned, settling into the centre of the letter - the name of his future mate. And suddenly, Harry feels there isn’t enough air in this world for him to inhale as he recites the name in his mind. Louis Tomlinson. OR In the world where mates are assigned to everyone and deposited to their door when an agreeable partner is found for them, Alpha Louis has recently been given his. However, he is nothing like the type of alpha that the omega academy prepares Harry for.

Truebonds | jacaranda_bloom | omegaverse - truebonds - professional scenter - nesting - scenting - mpreg - 40k Louis doesn't mind being an omega, most of the time. Modern medicine allows him to suppress almost all of his omega traits, but the one thing it can't suppress is his scenting cycle. Fortunately, that only needs to be dealt with every seven years and he counts himself lucky that he can afford the services of a reputable agency. With his cycle due, he reviews the matched candidates and there's one alpha who fits all of his criteria, S28A. That's pretty much where things start to unravel. Enter Harry Styles, scenter for hire. Or the one where Louis is an omega in need, Harry is an alpha for hire, and destiny presents them with a fate they never saw coming.

Promise in the Sky | Throwthemflowers | High School - friends to lovers - best friends - slow burn - religious guilt - sexual repression - internalized homophobia - implied conversion therapy - suicide attempt - healing - 99k AU in which Harry Styles, a naïve, repressed, socially awkward Midwestern highschooler tries to navigate his fundamentalist evangelical parents and radically progressive older sister. He’s doing an okay job of this until the Tomlinson family starts attending Lakeside Baptist Church and a boy named Louis changes everything. Harry is forced to come to grips with his true self when Louis becomes more than just his best friend; but their relationship opens a can of worms and sends them on the most painful, heartbreaking journey of their young lives. They risk everything and nearly lose, and Harry learns that perhaps only one Bible verse is true: that perfect love casteth out fear.

Box of Rain | indierection | 1970s - boxing - mutual pining - friends to lovers - 26k Louis is definitely not the next Muhammad Ali, just an illegal boxer with no prospects for the future. Harry is a hippie Uni student that in his free time informally works as a ring boy. Somehow he manages to always get tangled on the ropes and at the same time charm the pants off of all the fighters and patrons. They meet in Manchester in 1977 and, even though they don't seem to have much in common, they... Well, they just sort of click, really. - The one with a friendship ruiner game of Monopoly, Harry always ending up in jail for wanting to save the world, Louis face to face with his archenemy and way too many references to 70s music. Also staring Zayn as a brooding anarchist punk rocker, Liam as the nerdiest and nicest boxer in all Britain and Niall as a bookmarker that can easily convince people to bet fortunes, but can't make his friends realise their mutual crush on each other.

[free-pool-trash]

x of swords - george weasley

part one of three

Summary: Growing up as Harry’s neighbor, you always believed that you were completely regular. In an attempt to feel closer to Harry (your best friend) you begin to dabble in the art of divination and, in the process, you uncover magic that you didn’t know you had. (i hate doing summaries this does not sum it up but you get the jist)

Relationships: George Weasley x Reader, platonic!Harry Potter x Reader, platonic!OC x Reader, platonic!Sirius Black x Reader, platonic!Remus Lupin x Reader, platonic!Fred Weasley x Reader, platonic!Nymphadora Tonks x Reader, platonic!Molly Weasley x Reader, platonic!Hermoine Granger x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, fluff, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of death (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 22.9k 

so here it is 😏 i was going to wait until i was completely finished with this to post it but i didn’t wanna rush it and oh my god it’s already so long  😫 I’m moving to Edinburgh in 2 weeks so i won’t be able to write as i have so much to pack so i hope this keeps some of you happy for a while <3 obviously i put a lot of effort into this and spent a lot of time on it so i really hope yall like it and i will personally kiss everyone who comments. likes or reblogs <3

mastelist

Life on Privet Drive was definitely something- something being incredibly boring. Nothing even remotely exciting happened on the street and the company was, to put it simply, miserable.

You’d lived in 5 Privet Drive since birth which, unfortunately for you, meant that your family are extremely close with the Dursleys who live next door. The Dursleys are a family of bigoted, pig-headed bullies. Made up of Petunia, Vernon, Dudley and, in your opinion the only tolerable one, Harry.

From the age of five, Harry had been your only friend on the street and vice versa. Initially, the both of you had bonded over your dislike of Dudley but as the years rolled on Harry and yourself had become virtually inseparable.

It was certainly strange- how close your parents were with Petunia and Vernon. Your mother and father are actually quite lovely, they are the complete opposite of the Dursleys, they’re open minded, kind and extremely friendly. But, you supposed, their friendliness didn’t discriminate from person to person, even if said person forced their orphaned nephew to sleep in the cupboard underneath the stairs.

There was no denying that Harry had been miserable with the Dursleys, who were unfortunately his only remaining family and you supposed you should’ve been happy when your best friend finally got away from them after his 11th birthday.

You’d missed him for the entire school year and you only got a chance to ask where he’d actually gone off to when he’d arrived home for the summer. (You didn’t believe the story Vernon had spun about Harry attending a boarding school for juvenile trouble makers).

“It’s incredible, (Y/n), honestly! I wish you could be there too.” He’d told you when you finally saw him again, after he’d finished his first year in his mysterious boarding school.

“That’s great, Haz, but where exactly is it?” You wondered and Harry only gave you his signature grin.

“Scotland.”

With a heavy sigh you let the subject go, he was clearly happy wherever he was going to school so it didn’t matter where or what it was. As long as he was happy.

By the time his 12th birthday rolled around you’d found the perfect gift for him. You’d made your parents buy you a polaroid camera for him to take away to school, he’d told you so many amazing stories about his school, you wanted to see some of it for yourself so you figured a camera would be the best course of action.

The morning of his birthday, Harry was woken up by the sound of pebbles tapping against his barred up window. The boy looked out to see you waving at him, an excited smile on your face and a neatly wrapped present in your other hand. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face as you beckoned him down with your hand. It was barely dawn but you knew better than to give a present for Harry to either his aunt or uncle because they’d only give it to Dudley, so it was best to get it to him before the rest of his supposed family woke up.

Hogwarts was amazing and Harry was over the moon to have discovered he was a wizard and make so many new friends, but he had missed you- his only friend in the muggle world. Your birthday was only a few weeks after his and he hoped that maybe you’d get a hogwarts letter of your own, obviously that hadn’t happened. Nonetheless he was happy to see you in the summer, he couldn’t shake the thought that Ron and Hermione would have loved to meet you though.

Slowly and quietly, Harry snook down the stairs and out the front door to meet you.

“Happy birthday, Haz!” You whisper-shouted excitedly, pulling the green-eyed boy into your house so he wouldn’t get caught outside when he wasn’t even allowed out of his bedroom.

Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, “I hope you know that you’re still the only person who calls me that.”

“Good,” you said happily, closing the front door behind you. “Anyway, I got you something that you can bring away to school with you!” He rose an eyebrow at you as you pushed the carefully wrapped box into his hands, “Open it,” you instructed. And so he did.

It was very possibly the most expensive gift he’d ever gotten, you (or your parents) usually got Harry presents that couldn’t be stolen by Dudley. For example, your mother had taken to buying Harry his own clothes, seeing as your best friend was a lot taller and thinner than his horrid cousin.

You, on the other hand, would usually make him gifts with sentimental value, something Dudley had absolutely zero interest in. The camera though, you knew would be safe as Harry would be leaving for school again soon enough.

Harry stared dumbfounded at the cardboard box that held the rather large polaroid camera, judging by the image on the box it was a good quality thing, probably expensive. “This is… really nice, (Y/n).”

A bright smile found your lips as you rushed into an animated explanation about why you’d picked a camera as his birthday present this year.

“So you can take lots of pictures of you and your new friends in your new fancy private school and when you come back here you can show them to me!” Harry chuckled and nodded his head, hoping he’d be able to find time to take pictures like you wanted.

“I’ll take pictures of everything. Promise.” He told you, holding out his pinky with a cheeky grin. You linked your pinky with his and nodded gratefully.

“We should christen it,” Harry announced, tearing into the box and he quickly set the camera up before he pointed it at you expectantly. “Well, come on then. I’ve told my school friends all about you, they’re going to want to see what you look like too. So, smile-“ with a disbelieving laugh, you crossed your legs underneath yourself from where you were sitting on the floor across from Harry, and tucked your hair behind your ears before you looked directly at the lense of the camera and gave it the brightest smile you could muster. The camera flashed and the picture slowly revealed itself, it seemed to be good enough to satisfy Harry’s twelve year old self.

He’d shown the polaroid to Hermione first, the bushy haired girl had smiled softly as she held the polaroid gently, “She seems lovely, Harry.”

Harry had nodded his head in agreement, you were lovely. He just hoped Dudley wasn’t terrorising you too much while he was away. His cousin always had somewhat of a crush on you, which Harry knew was ridiculous considering you all but loathed Dudley.

True to his word, Harry had taken plenty of pictures, many were of (non-magic) areas of the Hogwarts campus, many were of his friends; Ron, Hermione, Fred and George Weasley (who had an absolute field day with the muggle contraption), one or two of Hagrid and he even managed to capture a nice one of the owlery. Although you were one of his best friends, sometimes thinking about you while he was in Hogwarts brought his mood down. It reminded him of how much he wished you could’ve shared in his adventures and not to mention how much he missed you, you could hardly send him an owl, what with being a muggle and all, so he only got to spend time with you during the summer months.

Things had changed during his third year, though. When he received a rather shocking, albeit very welcome, letter.

Dear Harry,

I’d like to start by saying: hi, how are you? How’s school? Good? Great. Now that that’s out of the way… when you come home I’m going to KILL you!!! I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you are a wizard! Well, I understand why you didn’t but anyway.

You’re probably wondering how I found all of this out. Long story short, I saw Vernon’s sister floating around your sitting room and then I saw you running out swinging a wand around. I put two and two together. You would not believe how long it took me to figure out how to get in contact with you. I practically had to beg Dudley to tell me how to get this package to you, he eventually told me how in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. It was as horrifying as it sounds, the things I do for you, Haz, honestly. Don’t worry though, you can make it up to me over the summer.

I bought an owl by the way. I’m guessing she found you okay? Look after her for a little while before sending her back will you? She’s just a baby so she can’t do too much long distance travel just yet.The lady I got her from is a witch, she was very kind and knew exactly what I was looking to use an owl for. Her name is Astra (the owl’s not the lady’s)! Isn’t she lovely?

Moving on from that, I felt bad forcing you to send me pictures and getting nothing in return so I have decided to very kindly grace you with my exhilaratingly normal life. You will also find I sent you some of those sweets you like.

Tell Ron and Hermione that I said hi! Oh and Fred and George too! Get into lots of trouble for me ;) I suppose I better stop rambling now, sorry about that I’m just excited (and i might be missing you… just a tiny bit!)

Write back to me soon, if you can! Tell Astra I’m proud of her for making her first delivery! (give her plenty of treats for me yeah?)

I’ll let you get back to your wizardy stuff now, Haz.

Lots of love,

(Y/n) xoxo

P.s. your magical secret is safe with me. promise.

Harry looked up from your letter with a dazed smile, your new little owl was looking at him expectantly, no doubt awaiting her treat, “Good job, Astra. Your owner says she’s very proud of you,” he informed her, handing her a piece of bacon from his breakfast plate and laughed when she hooted happily.

Astra is a gorgeous little tawny, she has brown and white feathers that were fluffy to the touch. Harry could already tell she was well suited to you though, she was friendly as anything with the most curious eyes he’d ever seen.

“Whose it from?” Ron grunted from beside him, munching happily on his huge breakfast.

Harry let out a short laugh, digging into the envelope to pull out the photos and sweets you’d sent, “(Y/n).”

“I thought she didn’t know about you?” Hermione asked from beside Ron, Harry only shrugged.

“She figured it out. She’s quite clever, I think you’d like her Hermione. She says hi by the way.” He answered somewhat distantly, distracted by the pictures you’d sent, all of which had writing on the backs. He paused on one photo, he guessed one of your parents had taken it, you were stood in the woods, surrounded by trees with a huge smile on your face, your eyes were closed and your nose was scrunched up as a very tiny Astra seemed to be nibbling at your ear affectionately.

“I’m sure we’d get along, I admire her determination, really. And she even bought an owl?” The girl questioned, reaching over and petting Astra gently.

Harry’s smile was gentle as Astra hopped onto his shoulder, “Yeah, suppose she did.”

“Alright! I’m gonna say it!” George Weasley exclaimed, plucking the photo of you from Harry’s grasp, he held it between himself and Fred, the older twin had somehow swiped the letter you’d written. “Harry’s girlfriend back home is quite cute, don’t you think, Freddie?” Fred nodded resolutely, pushing the letter into George’s face as he pointed towards a specific line.

“I have to agree and look, Georgie, she told Harry to tell us that she says hi! Ugh, such a darling,” Fred fake swooned and Harry felt his face heat up while George made kissy faces.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Yeah, you had opened Harry up to a whole new world of teasing yet somehow he didn’t mind.

“Oi, do you think she’d like some of our Weasley products?” George asked genuinely, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry shuddered at the thought of you getting a hold of anything that Fred and George had created, because yes, you would like some magical pranking products. You had quite a talent for mischief, only in Harry’s worst nightmares would the Weasley twins ever get their hands on you.

Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Dunno.”

“She single?” Fred asked jokingly and Harry scrunched his face up. He supposed you were single, though, he’d never really pictured you with anyone. He felt quite protective over you, but he supposed he'd like to see you happy with someone he approved of- or alternatively; anyone but Dudley.

“Think so,” Harry told him with another shrug before a cheeky grin spread across his lips, as he focused his attention on the twins who were nudging each other in mock victory, “Why? Should I write home and tell her the esteemed Weasley twins have a crush on her?”

George was the first the speak, he nodded, completely serious and Harry found himself worrying that perhaps one of the Weasley twins would get his hands on you.

“Yes. Absolutely,” Fred snorted and said no more, allowing his younger twin to continue the girl based antics seeing as Fred’s actual crush, Angelina, had started to glare. “In fact, give her my name. Tell her to write to me next time, eh?”

Harry’s eyes widened, oh Merlin, George was serious.

“Oh sod off, would you? The poor girl is a muggle, she’d throw herself off the astronomy tower if she got stuck with either of you prats.” Ron said through a laugh, none of them could deny it was quite funny, even Hermione had to bite back a smile at the chaos your simple letter had caused.

Around two weeks had passed until Astra returned to you, two letters attached to her leg this time.

You greeted her with a warm smile as she landed on the inside of you window, “Welcome home, pretty lady! Did you have a nice trip?” You cooed, patting her feathers and giggling when she nuzzled her head against your fingers. Having a magical owl as a pet was weird, but still, you seemed to be managing her okay.

Astra hooted happily, as if informing you that she did, in fact, have a nice trip. “That’s good! Let me take these letters off and you can have a well deserved rest, I’ve made a nice nest up for you,” you rambled softly as you untied the string that was holding the letters to her leg.

Astra hooted, hopping onto your arm and allowing you to place her on the plush pile of pillows and blankets which she immediately made herself comfortable upon, once again hooting in content when you placed a handful of treats in front of her.

You assumed that both letters were from Harry until you noticed the messy handwriting that covered one of the envelopes, handwriting that definitely didn’t belong to Harry. Besides, never, even in the furthest reaches of your imagination, would your best friend ever refer to you as; “Harry’s Pretty Neighbour”. You set that one to the side for the time being and focused on the letter you knew to actually be from Harry.

Dear (Y/n),

Hi. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a wizard. If it makes you feel better I was actually planning on telling you this summer, but thank you for saving me from that conversation. I miss you too (only a tad). I hope you’re having a good school year so far, it’s been pretty chaotic here but I promise I’ll tell you every single tiny detail when we see each other at the end of May!

Did Astra get home okay? She’s a really lovely owl, she took quite a liking to George who (terrifyingly) has taken quite a liking to you. He’s been badgering me all week for “permission” to write to you, in his words, “just to say hello.” I think you’d actually get along but he and the rest of his family are very magic oriented, I’d be surprised if he didn’t scare you away… the pair of you together would be my worst nightmare. Don’t even get me started on how I’d feel if Fred was in the mix too. I’m tired just thinking about it.

Thank you for the sweets they were lovely, I put a chocolate frog in the envelope for you, it’s a really popular sweet in the wizarding world- don’t freak out when it hops, it’s just a charm the frog isn’t really alive.

I enjoyed the pictures too, I put a few in this letter for you too, the polaroid is running out of film but it should be enough to keep me going until the end of term.

Write to me again soon, I like hearing from you.

Take care,

Harry.

P.S. I’m really sorry you had to kiss Dudley, I’ll do something to make it up to you. Promise.

P.P.S. If George OR Fred manage to write to you PLEASE don’t eat anything they give you.

With a laugh you set the letter down beside you. Curiously, you reached a hand into the ivory envelope and pulled out the peculiarly shaped chocolate box as well as the polaroids. You viewed the photos with a fond smile, Harry always looked so happy, even with whatever chaos was happening around him. Wizard school definitely made your best friend the happiest he’d ever been.

Opening the next letter, which you now guessed judging by Harry’s letter, came from George Weasley, Harry’s friend Ron’s older brother. That was all you knew about him. You let out a gasp once you opened the seal, a small show of tiny fireworks shot out, exploding in balls of reds and oranges across your bedroom before they disappeared as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Slightly frazzled, yet amazed, you cautiously plucked the letter from the envelope and began reading.

Hello, Harry’s Pretty Neighbour.

I hope you enjoyed the show, hopefully it didn’t startle you too much… I’m not exactly sure what muggles are used to… if it did scare you I’m sorry.

Anyway, just wanted to say hi. Promised Harry I wouldn’t spook you, he’s quite protective of you, you know. It’s very sweet.

I don’t blame him, though. If I had a friend as pretty as you I’d be protective too ;)

Don’t break my heart, write back?

Yours truly,

George Weasley x

And that had been the start of it. Two years had passed since you’d discovered the wizarding world and it seemed as though things had simultaneously gotten worse and better. As it turns out, your lifelong best friend was some sort of prophetic hero in the wizard community and on top of that it seemed that there was a war brewing that he would be expected to lead.

Of course, you were completely useless as you don’t possess the ability to perform magic which also means you're at risk of being hate crimed by some classist, wizard, blood supremacists? You weren’t sure. But Harry was worried.

You’d been writing back and forth to a few of Harry’s Hogwarts friends (your friends now too) for a long while now, you’d even gotten a chance to finally meet them when you’d gone with the Dursleys to collect Harry from King’s Cross Station.

You got along best with Hermione seeing as she was raised similarly to yourself and Harry. However, of all of Harry’s school mates, you liked George the most. Everyone could have predicted it really, you’d been writing to each other constantly and the second you’d clapped eyes on each other in the flesh he’d broken out in a run to crush you in a hug. Harry had groaned at the sight of the pair of you, smiling widely at each other, seeming to slot together perfectly. He had to laugh about it now though, if things went well with Ginny he supposed you’d probably end up being his sister-in-law, assuming his predictions of George falling completely in love with you were correct (they were, he knew).

All air of laughter or wizard/muggle romances was gone at the moment however. You and Harry sat alongside each other, your hand holding his loosely between the swings you were sat on, he’d be going into his 5th year at Hogwarts soon, he’d yet to recover from the last. He’d made a friend only for that friend to be killed right in front of him. He’d almost been murdered himself for God’s sake.

“If you don’t feel safe, Haz… maybe, I don’t know? Don’t go back?” You suggested weakly, knowing he’d never do such a thing. As you expected, Harry shook his head and looked at you solemnly.

“Can’t. Not now that he’s back.” With a sigh you squeezed his hand.

“They should be paying you for this, you know,” Harry chuckled then, squeezing your hand in return.

“I’m doing this for you too. To keep you safe.” He admitted and you sighed miserably.

“I wish I could be of more help.” Harry scoffed, his green eyes shining with pure disbelief as he stared at you.

“More help? (Y/n) you must be joking…” he trailed off as you shook your head, you weren’t joking, you hated that you couldn’t help Harry through this, for once you knew there was nothing you could do to improve the situation in any way that would make an impact, “Oi. Look at me,” Harry demanded, no trace of the usual awkward sarcasm to be heard when he spoke.

You let your eyes meet his again and watched how they seemed to soften when he took in how utterly defenceless you looked, “If it hadn’t been for you, the first ten years of my life would’ve been an even worse hell than they already were. You were the only good thing and you’re still the only good thing about being back in this place.”

He watched sadly as your eyes fell to the floor again, “Besides, the sooner we get this mess with Voldemort sorted out, the sooner you and George Weasley can navigate the whole muggle/wizard romance thing.”

At his statement you barked out a laugh and Harry let himself smile too, “Shut up, Potter. S’not like that.”

Harry laughed then too, “Oh it is so like that, (N/n).”

“It so isn’t.” You grumbled, but your little smile confirmed to Harry that it absolutely was like that.

“Okay. Fine, please then do tell, what is going on between you and the infamous George Weasley?” Harry challenged, revelling in the way your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He let out a low chuckle when you shrugged shyly and kicked the stones beneath your feet.

“I don’t know… We write to each other a lot, and I think he’s really interesting and funny and sweet and of course I think he’s fit. But, I don’t know,” you bit your lip as Harry listened to you, he found it quite endearing. “I just don’t see how it would work. I like him, yeah, but…” Harry scoffed again as you trailed off. He hated seeing you feeling so insecure, Harry was clueless about a lot of things, but he knew exactly how much his best friend was worth- more than all the gold in Gringott’s.

“Ok as your best mate, and as someone who is very close with the Weasley family, I’m telling you that he’s mad about you. All he ever does is ask me about you, Fred is completely sick of him. He’s even told Molly about you, which is truly a commitment believe me,” Harry started, growing more content with the more bashful you became, “And didn’t he write to you just before the Yule Ball to tell you that he was going with Katie Bell as a friend but he wanted to tell you just incase you heard it from someone else and he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea?” Finally, you were back to fighting a smile.

“Yeah he did.”

“Well there you go. But seriously he hasn’t dated or even so much as looked at anyone else since he met you. Which I’ll be honest is super annoying for me but you deserve someone who thinks you hung the stars in the sky.”

A mock gasp left your lips and you released his hand to place it over your chest in faux hurt, “You mean to tell me you don’t think I hung the stars in the sky? I’m hurt, Harry. I think I’ll have to rat you out to Mrs. Weasley.”

Harry laughed but the lighthearted atmosphere didn’t last long before Dudley had shown up with his little gang of bullies, all of whom made fun of Harry’s nightmares.

It was then things had taken a turn for the worst, the sky turned black and storm clouds completely blocked out the previously scorching sun. You looked to Harry for answers but he seemed to be seeing something that you couldn’t, all you knew was that it had become unbearably cold, a feeling of misery making a home in your bones as Harry rushed to pull you to your feet.

“Run! Come on!” He shouted, clutching your hand tightly in his and sprinting through the neighbourhood until you, Harry and Dudley found yourselves struggling to catch a breath in a graffiti covered tunnel.

A terrified yelp left your throat as what you’d been running from revealed itself to you.

Several floating, cloaked shadowy figures swooped into the tunnel on both sides, their hands decaying and boney, their presence leaving you with the feeling that you’d never know positively ever again.

Harry had effectively used his body to cage you against the wall of the tunnel, his back pressed firmly against your chest, your own back pressed to the cold concrete wall, his wand was at the ready as the creatures approached rapidly.

“Don’t look at them.” Harry instructed, protecting you first as you watched in horror as one of the creatures seemed to be ripping Dudley’s essence straight out of his body.

It only took Harry a few painfully long seconds to take care of the creature in front of the pair of you, you’d wished you’d taken his advice and buried your head in his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the monstrous creatures before you, yet, you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Dudley.

The rest happened in a blur, Harry had yet to let go of your hand as it (and your entire body) shook violently. Demontors broke even the strongest of wizards, Harry knew that as a muggle who’d never seen a magical creature, other than an owl, you’d react negatively.

“If it makes you feel any better, I used to faint every time I saw a dementor.” You nodded numbly, giving Dudley a side glance of concern while he mumbled incoherently to himself.

“Is he alright?” You questioned meekly, voice shaking. You were still freezing and the all too familiar feeling of uselessness didn’t do anything to help you regain your inner warmth.

Harry nodded, “He will be.”

“The ministry will be after my head for using magic outside of school,” he told you after a few minutes, squeezing your hand lightly for the umpteenth time, “So I’m gonna have to go away for a while. Probably tonight. Eat some chocolate, it should stop the shaking.” He told you, you hadn’t even noticed you’d reached Privet Drive.

“And they won’t-“ your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes filled with fear, “The dementors. They won’t come back, will they?”

Harry shook his head, “No. But come on, we should get you inside before the ministry shows up and tries to obliviate you.” His final words came out as more of a mumble than an actual sentence as he passed a bumbling Dudley over to Petunia and Vernon before steering you down your own driveway.

“You better not have broken her too, boy!” You vaguely registered Vernon’s voice shouting in your and Harry’s direction.

Your parents were away on holiday at the moment, in Spain. They’d wanted you to come but you hadn’t wanted to miss Harry’s visit, so when you shakily managed to open the door the house was completely dark, you weren’t sure at what point night had fallen.

Harry closed the door behind himself and made his way into your kitchen, the boy rifled through your sweet press before his hand finally settled on what he was looking for. A triumphant sort of yell left his lips as he pulled a bar of chocolate out of the cupboard.

While Harry tossed the bar onto the counter and busied himself with boiling the kettle, you stood in the hallway still, completely rigid.

“Come on, (Y/n). Sit down.” He urged gently, not turning around. Wordlessly, you fully entered the kitchen and slid into a chair facing Harry.

“Don’t you have better things to be doing than making me tea?” You wondered, setting your hands on the table and fidgeting with your icy fingers. Obviously, you appreciated Harry’s fussing but with the way he was talking about the ministry earlier you were sure he had more important things to worry about.

Harry only faced you once he was finished making your tea. He carried the hot cup and the previously discarded bar of chocolate over to you, he placed them both on the table before giving you a hard look, “I’m looking after you first. I’ll deal with everything else later.”

“I used to be the one who took care of you.” You said through a sigh, taking a sip of the hot tea and slumping against your seat as you began to heat up on the inside again.

Harry let out a low chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”

“I liked it better the other way.” You complained, munching on a square of chocolate.

“Trust me, so did I,” Harry groaned, standing up and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry though, (N/n). Have a sneaking feeling that you’ll be looking after me again soon enough.”

You patted the hand he had clamped on your shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you, though, for looking after me.”

“Course. I better go. I don’t want you getting roped into anything else tonight,” he said with a sad smile and you nodded in understanding, “We probably won’t see each other for a while but I’ll write. Is Astra back from Cecilia's yet?” Celillia is the witch you’d gotten Astra from in the first place, the pair of you had kept in touch and she’d recently offered to try and teach you some basic divination skills, she claimed that, “Being a wizard isn’t exactly a requirement” and you desperately needed something, anything, to make you feel more connected to your friends in the wizarding world. You supposed you’d need to plan a trip to her cottage soon, after tonight you definitely needed some of her wisdom.

“No, not yet. She flew straight there from the burrow so I suppose she’s probably resting,” you informed him distantly, still clutching his hand, “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

Harry squeezed your shoulder and let out a deep breath, “I’ll try my best. Promise,” with that he lifted his hand from your shoulder and extended his pinky to you, you gladly linked it with your own. Harry noted, very gratefully, that the warmth had now returned to your hands and you’d stopped shaking so violently.

“Send me a letter once Astra gets back, alright? I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on over on my side.” You agreed before walking Harry to the door, hugging him tightly and watching as he approached the Dursley’s front door.

As predicted, Harry, George, Hermione and Cecillia had let you know that the wizarding world was crumbling fast. Admittedly you were worried about your wizard friends, but Cecillia had done a great job of keeping you distracted by keeping you buried under heaps of divination books, tarot cards and crystal guidebooks. As it turns out, though, you had quite the talent for making accurate detailed predictions.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were descended from a powerful seer,” she’d written to you in awe after you’d managed to predict exactly how a date of hers would go without missing a single detail.

Reading tarot cards quickly became one of your favourite hobbies to indulge in when you weren’t in school. You’d made the mistake of telling George about it in a recent letter, Harry already knew and he also knew that there was no point telling you that he didn’t have a heap of faith in divination. George however was having a field day with the new information.

The older boy teased you at every chance he got, but it was all in good fun as in every letter he sent, you’d find a page that he’d ripped out of his own divination book, the pages would be crinkled and have messy notes scribbled along the margins, with explanations over words that he knew you wouldn’t understand as a muggle. They were actually really helpful. Aside from all the teasing he found it quite endearing that you were trying to get familiar with some form of magic. Even if it was a form of magic wizards tended to ridicule.

He’d been quite worried about you, Harry told him about the dementors and how you’d been quite shaken up after your encounter with them. He’d written to you on a weekly basis, constantly checking in on you, making absolutely sure that no more dementors paid you a visit. He and Harry both kept you up to date with the constant and seemingly never ending rules being imposed upon them by their new headmaster, or headmistress; Delores Umbridge. George also disclosed to you all about his and Fred’s plan to leave Hogwarts and pursue their lifelong dream of opening a joke shop. You had nothing but faith in the twins, really. Your complete faith in them hadn’t stopped you from sending George a handful of crystals that you believed would help his and his shop’s success. He’d teased you relentlessly in each letter since he’d received your package containing citrine, tiger’s eye, amazonite, aventurine and smokey quartz. What he hadn’t mentioned since receiving your little gifts, is that he’d been carrying the five crystals around in their little orange mesh drawstring bag in his pocket everywhere he went. He had to give credit where credit is due and, to be fair to you and your holistic ways, he hadn’t run into any serious obstacles since he started carrying the gems around.

November through June had brought forth a plethora of unfortunate events. You were practically swimming in school work which left you with no time to write to Harry, or even practice tarot. As well as that, you’d been having nightmares, although Cecillia had warned that these dreams could hold some sort of prophesies within them, you highly doubted that though, you weren’t a wizard, only a muggle. Whether prophetic or not, the nightmares plagued you, keeping you up at night or waking you at all hours of the morning.

On one particular morning, you’d awoken with a gasp. Sweat coated your face, soaked your pillow cases and caused your legs to stick to your blankets in a way not even the June heat could've caused. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, tears welled in your eyes, and your body shook as violently as it had the night you’d come face to face with the dementors of Azkaban. The unadulterated fear coursing through your bloodstream suggested that perhaps this bad dream had been something more than simply that.

As fast as you could manage in your panicked state, you dragged your body out of bed and stumbled towards your light switch, flicking it on before haphazardly ripping a sheet out of the refill pad on your desk, grabbing a pen and beginning to scribble down the dream that you could only describe as a warning.

Your laboured breaths stirred Astra from her slumber, the tawny hooted tiredly, hopping out of her cage and fluttering over to your shoulder, settling there as you wrote.

Harry,

I hope this letter reaches you in time. I might sound completely mad but something terrible may be about to happen. I’ve been having these horrific dreams over the last few months, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry but Cecillia suspects they’re premonitions and I’m terrified she may be right. I’ve just woken up, it’s around 2am and if I’m lucky, Astra should get this letter to you before 6am…

Onto the dream, you were there and you were asleep, I was standing by your bed, it was a four-poster sort of thing, the room was decorated in mostly red and gold. You woke up panicked, you looked completely overwhelmed and you began shouting about your Godfather Sirius, about how he was in trouble… From then on I watched the day play out. You, Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, a boy with brown hair I’ve never met, I think you called him Neville in my dream, and a blonde girl- Luna I think you called her, you all went to the ministry to rescue Sirius and find some kind of prophecy. Harry you have to listen to me, you mustn’t go, it’s a trick, Voldemort planted it in your head and if you go you’ll only put Sirius in harm’s way. But, knowing you, you’re gonna go anyway… so here’s my advice: keep your eyes open for the witch Bellatrix. Keep Sirius away from the veil and please please please, be careful.

I’m heading to Cecillia’s cottage for the day and maybe even the next couple of days, send Astra there when you find time to write back.

I hope I’m wrong but if I’m not; good luck, Harry. I love you and if you don’t look after yourself the dark lord will be the least of your worries.

Lots of love,

Y/n.

Folding up the letter and placing it in a stray envelope, you addressed it and gently tied it to your loyal owl’s leg. “I’m gonna need you to go as fast as you can to get this to Harry, okay Astra?” She hooted with what you guessed to be determination before she set off, out into the night. Thankfully for you, now that your owl was occupied, you knew Cecillia owned a telephone so you’d have no problems contacting her. While writing to Harry, you’d left out a few details about the dream. You conveniently forget to mention that you’d watched his only remaining family member killed at the hand’s of Bellatrix, it had looked so terrifyingly real that your mind couldn’t have possibly conjured it up all by itself. You also failed to mention hearing Harry’s agonising scream as Sirius fell, the noise was nearly deafening. Seeing Sirius, a man you’d only seen in pictures, die and watching your best friend mourn for him was, well, traumatising. There was no way you’d get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night, so, you quietly tiptoed downstairs and made a call.

The line rang three times before Cecillia’s voice sounded, chirpy as ever despite the late hour, “Hello?”

“Sorry to call so late,” was all you managed, your voice although shaky was immediately identified by the much older witch.

You could nearly see the soft smile on her youthful face as she spoke, “Ah, Y/n my darling, no worries at all! How is my favourite student doing at half two in the morning?”

“Not well, I’ve had another vision. I think you might’ve been right about the dreams being prophetic,” you told her, willing your voice not to crack as the image of your bad dreams crept into your mind once again.

Cecillia let out a gentle hum, “Shall I apparate over? You don’t sound in the highest of spirits, darling.”

“Yes please,” you answered simply and within seconds Cecillia was standing before you, a worried furrow in her brow and her ashy brown hair disheveled from apparating to you in such a hurry. How could she not? You were, after all, her protégé.

“Oh, darling. You look terribly shaken up, come, come, let’s get you some water,” she fretted, guiding you to your kitchen, magically flicking on the light with her wand and filling up a glass of water, with a few flicks of her wrist the glass had floated over to your usual seat at the table, meanwhile Cecillia had stirred you into the wooden chair adjacent the glass.

Wordlessly, the witch peeled your damp hair away from your face and secured it back with a crocodile clip shaped like a huge golden bumble bee, it’s wings adorned with glittering gems. The bee sat comfortably in your hair as Cecillia finally sat down beside you, she made herself comfortable on the kitchen chair, crossing one leg over the other, resting her elbow on the table and using it to prop her cheek up. Her wide green eyes stared at you sympathetically, watching intently as you sipped your water.

“I’m assuming your loyal familiar is sleeping soundly?” She wondered, referring to Astra. You shook your head, simultaneously swallowing a gulp of water before responding verbally.

“I sent her with a letter to Harry, it was more of a warning really,” Cecillia nodded her head, signalling you to go on, “I dreamt of Harry and his friends going to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius Black, but it was a trap. When they got there they were ambushed by dark wizards and Sirius well he…” you trailed off, eyes growing distant and unfocused when the sight of the man being murdered reentered your mind’s eye. A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present.

“This one was far worse than the others then?”

You nodded, “It didn’t feel like a dream, cecillia. It was like I was actually standing there but I couldn’t do anything to help though… as per usual,” you muttered bitterly, receiving a harsh squeeze to your shoulder in response.

Cecillia fixed you with a maternal glare, “None of that! You potentially saved a life tonight. And, as I effortlessly predicted since the moment I met you, you’ve got the magical gift of sight,” her hard look melted into something more forgiving as she spoke, “You’re much more than just a muggle. You may have been an extremely late bloomer, but, you’re a witch and a seer at that. A peculiar case indeed, although in the wizarding world stranger things have happened,” the old witch told you proudly, eyes shining with glee as your own filled with confusion.

“How do we know the dream will even come true?” You questioned.

Cecillia simply shrugged and offered you a cheeky grin, “I trust your feelings, darling.”

True to your initial feeling, you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you found out whether or not your dream had come to fruition. Cecillia remained by your side throughout the night, eventually the sun had risen and your parents descended down the stairs, neither of them were surprised to see Cecillia sitting at the kitchen table. They saw her as an odd woman, very kind and perfectly lovely, but odd. You’d told them that she owned an animal sanctuary and that you’d been volunteering with her, it wasn’t too far fetched really, she had given you an owl after all, not to mention the amount of cats that hung around her cottage.

She explained to your parents that she needed your help at ‘the sanctuary’ for the next few days and that she’d drop you home once the work was finished. It hadn’t been a problem, so you traveled to Cecillia’s cottage after getting dressed and packing an overnight bag (full to the brim with tarot decks and only some clothes).

It was nearly 8 in the evening when Cecillia sauntered into her living room, where you were sitting, sporting a knowing grin, she held a piece of parchment in one hand and an unopened envelope in the other.

Jovially, she plopped herself down beside you, obviously doing her very best to contain a huge grin from forming on her face. Wordlessly, she placed the envelope on your lap with a mere, “For you.”

On the envelope you could tell by the handwriting that it had come from Harry. This was definitely a make or break moment for you. The contents of this letter would either confirm that you did in fact have magic, or, they would be responsible for causing you to experience a seismic amount of embarrassment. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tore the envelope open, freeing the letter and daring to read what was inside.

Dear Y/n,

Your dream was right. And that advice you gave about keeping an eye on Sirius? It saved his life. I suppose I’m mostly writing to say thank you. I’ve got some updates for you too: firstly, it’s finally been confirmed that Voldemort is back so my name is cleared. Secondly, it turns out that Remus and Cecillia are old friends, she contacted him earlier today about your vision and he and Sirius haven’t shut up about how impressive it is. I have a feeling you might be hearing from them soon, The Order now more than ever is in need of a secret weapon and genuine seers are hard to come by. I hate to involve you in this, it’ll probably be dangerous and you know I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. But having said that, I’m glad we’re in this together now.

Astra got here in good time, by the way, she landed on my window just after I woke up from my vision of Sirius, it was actually quite freaky. I’m taking good care of her so don’t worry, she should be back to you at some point tomorrow.

Hermoine and Ron say hi too. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from George soon, seeing as he and Fred are in the Order… On that note I better get going.

Thank you again for the warning.

See you soon,

Love, Harry.

A bemused smile spread across your lips as you scanned the page, thankful to have finally made a significant difference in Harry’s life. Cecillia was grinning like a cheshire cat beside you, pride shimmering in her emerald eyes. She bumped her arm against yours playfully when you let the letter fall to your lap, “An old friend of mine will be stopping by in a short while. It seems he’d like to get you trained up in some defence against the dark arts.” She told you, still grinning.

“Defence against the dark arts?” You wondered out loud, you were sure you’d heard Harry mention those words to you before, however, the memories were fuzzy.

“Magic to keep you safe from darker magic, the likes of which the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters rely,” she explained darkly. Just then, a loud bang erupted from her open stone fireplace, a bubble of green dissipated as two men stepped less than gracefully onto Cecillia’s faux-fur rug. You recognised them both from your vision. They were Sirius Black and, if you were to take an educated guess, Remus Lupin.

Cecillia wasted no time before she was giddily jumping from her seat to greet the pair who had just appeared in her sitting room.

“Remus! Oh, how wonderful to see you!” She all but squealed, pulling the tall man into a hug and ruffling his already messy hair.

He reciprocated the hug with a gentle chuckle, “It’s nice to see you again, Cece. It’s been far too long,” he pulled away and the pair of them shared a fond smile before simultaneously looking to Sirius. “I trust you remember Sirius?” Lupin asked, almost rhetorically.

Sirius let out a booming laugh at that, “She could never forget me, now could you, Cece?” Cecillia rolled her eyes, and with a look of endearment nearly tackled Sirius into an embrace.

Seeing the woman who was essentially your magical mentor so overjoyed was lovely, Cecillia was jolly at the best of times but you’d never seen her quite like this. Her happiness added to your sense of helpfulness, Sirius Black was obviously important to more than just Harry, if the smile on the free-spirited witches face was anything to go by. Although you were ecstatic for the three witches and wizards before you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were imposing on an intimate reunion.

Awkwardly you cleared your throat, successfully bringing the trio’s attention onto you as you stood by the sofa, smiling unsurely. If it was even possible, all three of their smiles broadened when their gazes landed on you.

“Am I right in assuming that this is my guardian angel?” Sirius asked, separating from Cecillia.

Cecillia nodded, filled with pride, “And isn’t she just the loveliest guardian angel you’ve ever seen?” She gushed, half seriously.

You offered Sirius a bashful smile, along with a nod of greeting, “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” you told him.

His grin stayed fixed in place but he raised a single eyebrow in confusion, “Glad? And yet you’ve never met me before now…” his tone was laced with inquisition, as if he wanted to figure out what ulterior motive you could possibly have for caring about a stranger you’d only ever seen in a dream.

It didn’t take a seer or a psychic to see what Sirius was after, so you simply answered him truthfully, “No, we’ve never met, but you’re still a person, I watched that woman kill you, it was horrible, nobody deserves that. As well as that; I know how much you mean to Harry and what sort of best friend would I be if I didn’t try to help him keep his last family member safe?” Sirius nodded approvingly at your reply, looking between Remus and Cecillia.

“She remind you of anyone?” The black haired man asked in a low chuckle, Remus snickered and Cecillia bit back a grin.

The witch made her way back to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, jostling you ever so slightly when she noticed your vaguely worried expression, “Don’t worry, darling, you just remind us of one of our most treasured school friends, I promise I will tell you all about it later. But for now, I believe Sirius was about to thank you for saving his life?” She prompted, waiting expectantly.

Sirius cleared his throat and straightened his posture before outstretching his arm, offering you his hand which you took firmly in your own. His voice was steady, strong and genuine when he spoke, “I am truly thankful for what you did for not only me but Harry today. I’m extremely proud of my godson for aligning himself with such a strong, powerful and wonderfully loyal young lady.”

“How sweet,” Cecillia cooed, before guiding you to the kitchen, “Come now, boys, kettles on- we have a lot to discuss!” She called over her shoulder.

There certainly had been a lot to discuss. The Order of the Phoenix thought having a seer at their disposal would be extremely beneficial in the upcoming war, the issue was; you are not yet of age and some members of the group didn’t wish to involve a child in their battle. Sirius, Remus and Cecillia made it abundantly clear that if you desired to join the Order, you were more than welcome but you would be welcomed under certain conditions. Those conditions being that your membership be kept under wraps and not disclosed to any muggles, meaning your parents.

“To keep them safe and to give you an escape route if things get too messy, even with the level of magic you’ll have gained by the time the war is in full swing, as a muggle born you’ll most likely need to flee quickly,” Remus explained, though it didn’t make much sense.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to run if my parents knew what we were running from? They’re open minded people, I’m sure they’d understand,” you attempted to reason, the trio but exchanged yet another loaded look with each other.

Cecillia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “We have a contingency plan in place, darling. Nothing you need to worry about for right now,” she reassured, easing your nerves a tad. “You trust me don’t you?” She followed up, her tone slightly stonier, more serious. You nodded your head certainly in response, there was no doubt about it; you trusted the witch with your life. “Then,” she began again, a somewhat chastising look on her face, “Trust that I will not allow a single hair on your head to be harmed.” This rule also extended to wizards not in the Order, which meant that when in the magical world, you were to air on the side of extreme caution.

Relating to that, another condition was that, at all times in the magical world, you were to be accompanied by an of age member of the Order. According to Sirius, who your were growing to like more by the second, he was going to arrange for a member of the Order to bring you to Diagon Alley in the morning to get you a wand. The prospect of having a wand of your own was terribly exciting, once again though, you found yourself wondering if you had it in you to properly wield one, or wield one at all for that matter. You were too exhausted to fret for too long, so the thoughts about magic levels and your own capabilities were only fleeting. Once all of the serious chat dissipated into friendly chatter, you managed to slip away from the table at which you were all sat. Making your way back to the sitting room, you tucked yourself into the corner seat of Cecillia’s old and very comfortable sofa, pulled your knees against your chest, wrapped your arms around them and rested your cheek against your knee. Slowly and deeply, you began to breathe in and out, fiddling with the amazonite bracelet that adorned your wrist in order to quell your ever growing anxiety. For a few sweet minutes you indulged in the calm silence, meditating peacefully in your comfy seat until a soft knock sounded from the doorway. When your eyes fluttered open they were met with the image of Sirius Black, leaning casually against the frame of the door, a hand plunged deep into his trouser pocket and another flipping a stray tarot card between his fingers. His eyes were focused on yours as he spoke, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

You shook your head and patted the seat beside you, “‘Course not, come sit.”

The man chuckled but obliged, settling in the spot beside you and offering you the card he’d previously been fiddling with.

“The ten of swords,” you identified easily, “I assume you’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed if this card found its way to you.”

Sirius hummed, “CeCe tells me that you’ve a penchant for card reading. I was rubbish at divination back at Hogwarts, only took it because I thought it’d be easy but I could never get my head around it,” he reminisced, an airy laugh slipping from his lips.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who were you all talking about earlier when you asked if I reminded Cecilia and Remus of anyone?” He let out a deep sigh before fixing you with a soft smile.

“An old school friend of ours, she was more than a friend to me, but that’s a story for another time,” he started, staring out into the empty space before him a melancholy grin on his lips, “She was fiercely loyal to her friends, if she wanted to help there was absolutely nothing that would stop her from doing so. I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I heard today and the way in which you’ve been described to me by Harry; I can see her in you,” he finished, bumping his shoulder with yours and forcing a happy smile onto your lips which mirrored Sirius’.

“What’s her name?” You asked.

“Her name was Marlene,” Sirius answered.

Your heart dropped with his use of past tense, “Was?”

Sirius bowed his head slightly and began to twist the rings that adorned his slender fingers, “She was killed during the first war,” he told you, making eye contact once again, a grave expression on his face as he continued, “I saw your apprehension earlier when we brought up the topic of secrecy, but you must understand that during the first war we lost so many who were dear to us, keeping you in our back pocket will ensure that you aren’t harmed in the face of this war, if any dark wizards hear so much of a whisper of a muggleborn seer they will stop at nothing to eliminate you,” he paused for a brief second, never breaking eye contact, the gravity of the situation heavy on your chest your fingers absentmindedly found your amazonite bracelet once again. Your movements were halted when Sirius placed his large hand over yours, squeezing it warmly while staring at you determinedly, “You saved my life today, Y/n. So believe me when I tell you that I will stop at nothing to keep you safe,” he promised and you squeezed his hand in return.

“I know,” he smiled as he watched your eyes return to the ten of swords and your grin broadened with the sort of mischief he’d only ever seen in four people; James Potter, Marlene McKinnon and Fred and George Weasley. “I have a prediction for you.”

Sirius entertained you fondly, a mischievous air that reminded him of when he was your age surrounding the pair of you, “By all means, do tell.”

“I predict,” you paused for emphasis, “that we are going to be very good friends.”

Sirius let out a booming laugh of which the volume he couldn’t control, “That is a prediction I truly hope will come to fruition.”

“Oh no, this is a duo that spells trouble,” Cecillia giggled to Remus as they entered the sitting room.

Remus looked between you and Sirius with a grin, “With a mentor like you, Cece, I’m not surprised Y/n has a taste for mischief,” the ruffled wizard teased, receiving a gentle elbow to the ribs from your mentor.

“Oi, if you’re going to blame my beloved girl’s mischief on anyone you better blame it on a certain Weasley twin,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and causing the boys to smile giddily like teenagers.

Sirius bumped your shoulder again, this time with a faux-scandalised smile, “A Weasley twin, eh? Come on then, which one?” You blushed heavily and cleared your throat in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassment filling your being.

“He’s just a friend!”

“Mhm. A friend that sends her annotated pages from his divination text book,” Cecillia sang and Sirius snickered.

“Whichever one it is must be quite taken with you if you made him actually crack open a textbook.”

“Annotations are quite intimate,” Remus half teased although you could see he believed what he’d just said, “I bet it’s George,” he directed the bet at Sirius who carefully observed the way you bit your lip and bashfully looked towards the wooden floor.

“I think you’re right, moony. Now!” He stood suddenly and pointed a finger at Remus expectantly, “We best get going and arrange Y/n’s accomplice for tomorrow’s field trip,” he wiggled his eyebrows before turning his head to face you again, he shot you a wink and you couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left your mouth at his lighthearted antics.

Remus gave Cecillia a one armed hug, “we’ll be seeing you both tomorrow then, it was lovely to meet you, Y/n, perhaps next time Sirius will allow me to get a word in,” he chuckled and Sirius responded by throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“I better get off, this husband of mine is growing jealous,” he told you in a teasingly hushed whisper.

Your eyes widened and you looked between the two men, “You two are married?”

A love struck smile took over both of their faces which immediately gave you your answer. “We’re engaged,” Sirius clarified before pulling you into a proper hug, “Get a good night's sleep, we’ll be sending an order member to collect you early tomorrow morning so you can be in and out of Olivander’s before a crowd can build,” he told you while giving you an affectionate squeeze, you could’ve laughed when you realised that it felt like you’d known Sirius forever but you also could’ve cried when you relived the image of him losing his life and realised that just because it was over and prevented didn't mean it hadn’t still transpired in your mind’s eye, you didn’t let that show on your face though.

“I’ll make sure I’m well rested,” you promised.

With that, Sirius bid Cecillia goodbye, and he and Remus left the way they’d came.

The rest of the night had been spent with Cecillia telling you story after story about her school days and the trouble she’d caused with Sirius, Remus, James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents, and another boy who she only referred to as “the rat”. Though the tone of the stories were completely lighthearted, they weighed on your chest with a sense of such tragedy. A huge majority of their friends were killed young because of the war, a war that was now waging once again. It led you to wonder who’d be lost to this one, if perhaps you’d be on the list of names that Harry or Cecillia or George would speak about fondly with a dense undertone of sorrow in the years after the second war had long since been won. It was a risk you were willing to take though, the notion of fighting for a deserving cause filled you with a sense of purpose, a purpose you’d been searching for for years. More than that, you felt important. You were needed. An asset. You would actually be of some help.

True to your word, you’d been getting a good night’s rest. The bed in Cecillia’s spare room was the comfiest thing you’d ever come across, though, as you began to stir from your deep slumber you couldn’t recall the empty side of the double bed being quite so dipped.

Slowly and begrudgingly, you cracked your eyes open to see Cecillia smiling tiredly at you in the light of dawn, “Morning, darling. Sorry about the early start, I’ve made you some tea,” she greeted quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the early morning. She held two ceramic mugs, one in each hand and passed you the steaming cup that was hand painted green, keeping the brown one for herself. Tiredly, you patted the spot beside you and pulled the quilt to the side, inviting the witch into the warm bed. She happily slid in, pulling the quilt over her and chuckling quietly when you dropped your head onto her robed shoulder and began to sip the tea she’d made. Cecillia rested her head against yours and sipped on her own tea.

“Are you excited for today?” She asked and you hummed.

“I’m having mixed emotions,” you stated, “I’m excited to see everything, but I’m sort of nervous that I won’t have enough magic to even get a wand,” Comfort spread through your chest when Cecillia pressed her lips to the crown of your head.

“The wonderful thing about wands, lovely, is that the wand picks the wizard,” she began, “so whatever wand you end up with will accentuate the level of magic inside you. Its power will grow as yours does and you’ll soon come to realise that you couldn’t imagine wielding anything else,” her voice was wistful and her eyes shined with wonder as she recalled how it felt to bond to a wand.

“What do you think mine will be like?” You wondered, excitement awakening in you thanks to Cecillia’s encouraging words.

The witch took an exaggerated slurp of her tea before answering, “Something curious,” was all she said.

“Insightful,” you murmured and she shrugged unapologetically, her chaotic energy exuding now that she’d started to wake up fully. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half six, your chaperone should be arriving at seven and Olivander’s opens at eight,” she told you before shimmying out of bed, you whined in the absence of your head rest. “You better get dressed. Wear something nice, rumour has it that your tag along is quite the eligible bachelor,” she wiggled her eyebrows and all but floated out of the spare room. It was practically your room by now though, over the years since you’d gotten Astra and met Cecillia you’d stayed in the room on countless occasions. Cecillia embodied something that was something between a second mother, a spiritual mentor, a teasing older sister and a slightly kooky aunt.

“Oh? So do you reckon I should brush my hair then?” You jokingly called out after her only to receive a harsh scoff.

“Absolutely not! Don’t be desperate!” You barked out a laugh at her response, shaking your head and getting ready for the day ahead.

You were just about finished getting ready when a familiar bang sounded from the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself one last look over in the mirror, happy with the outfit you’d chosen, you made your way towards the sitting room to come face to face with your surprise chaperone for the day.

When you shuffled into the sitting room, a smile immediately stretched across your lips upon seeing who had been appointed to stick by your side for the day, “George!” His name left your mouth in a squeal that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so excited to see him. It’d been upwards of a year since the last time you’d seen George in the flesh and although you’d seen each other in photos and written to each other at a rate that was almost excessive, the prospect of spending time together in person was, for lack of a better word; magical.

George drew his attention away from the framed pictures that lined Cecillia’s fireplace to see you standing in the doorway, looking as bright as the newly risen sun and sporting a smile that he couldn’t quite put into words how it made him feel. It only took a second before his own cheek splitting smile grew on his face, and with it left his hopes of impressing you with his cool and collected attitude. You hadn’t given him too much time to dwell on his ruined cool guy facade as you all but threw yourself into his arms. The red head let out an endearing laugh, catching you in his toned arms, wrapping them tightly around your torso. A scarlet blush rising on his ears when he felt your smile against his neck. “Hello to you too,” he chuckled against your ear and you pulled back enough to look at him, your arms still secure around his shoulders.

“Sorry,” you started, the smile that still adorned your lips telling him that you weren’t all that sorry at all, “Hi,” you greeted, bashfully pulling your arms away from him.

The sitting room was quiet for a moment as the pair of you only stared at each other, would it be too much to tell him that you’ve missed him? You didn’t want to come on too strong after such a long time apart, you’d already tackled him into a hug within the first five seconds, but with that came your next internal question of; did you really want to keep this boy on his toes?

George, having already discarded his notion of acting nonchalant with you, bet you to the punch. He rubbed the back of his neck and flicked his gaze to the floor before bringing it back to you, “I’ve missed you.”

A giggle left your lips before you could think about choking it down, you nodded your head, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Sorry I haven’t written, Astra is still with Harry.”

George gave you a grin, “No worries, darling. Heard you’ve been a very busy little psychic lately.”

Darling, you mused internally, the nickname echoing through your head and causing your heart to somersault in a way you’d never really felt before.

“Oh how sweet,” Cecillia sang from the doorway, a wicked grin on her face as she took in the two hopeless blushing messes, staring doe-eyed at each other in the middle of her living room. “I hate to break up the reunion, my dears, but the pair of you really should get going,” she instructed, strutting up to you and holding a cloth pouch in your direction, “Sirius left you some spending money, it’s different than the money you usually use but I’m sure George will have no problem helping you out,” Cecillia shot the boy a wink and he nodded, once again growing bashful.

“Now,” she grew serious, directing her words at George and making him slightly intimidated with her strong eye contact, “You are to be extremely careful. You are not to mention that Y/n is a seer and you are not to draw any attention to the fact that she is a muggleborn, if Mr. Olivander asks, she’s a half-blood who's been living in the states and that’s why she doesn’t have a wand,” you wore a confused expression, George nodded in complete understanding, “Did Sirius give you the list?”

George nodded once again, pulling a folded piece of parchment out of the back pocket of his slightly baggy denim jeans, “May I take a look?” Cecillia asked, already snatching the parchment from George’s long fingers and unfolding the sheet and reading it aloud, “Alright! A wand… seriously? He used a whole page of parchment just to write one thing?” She grumbled, stomping over to the nearest side table, leaning down and began to scribble on the parchment. You looked to George as she wrote, “Why do you have to say I’m from the States?” You asked quietly and George leaned down slightly to be closer to your ear.

“Witches and wizards in America don’t get wands until they’re of age, we get them here when we’re eleven,” just as he was finished offering his explanation, Cecillia walked back over, a hard look on her face that you weren’t used to seeing, though it seemed that the look was reserved for George.

Silently she handed him the parchment before looking to you, hard look dissolving back into her usual playful expression, “Have fun, lovely.” She then turned to George again, apparently having had enough of trying to intimidate the poor boy, she shot him a smile, “You’ll be taking the floo to Diagon Alley, my fireplace is big enough to take the both of you at once,” she handed George a pouch of what looked like green powder, “George knows what to do, now, not to sound like a broken record but do stay safe and have fun,” she finished, ushering the pair of you into her fireplace. You couldn’t lie, it was quite strange, you supposed you should get used to things coming across as strange, you were about to be exposed to the magical wizarding world for the first time after all. In the fireplace, you stood shoulder to shoulder with George, noticing the nervous look on your face, he slid his hand into yours gently. When you looked at him, he kept his face focused on his feet, “Ready, Y/n?” Taking a deep breath you nodded shakily.

“Ready, George.”

At your words, George slammed the green powder onto the ground and shouted, “Diagon Alley!”

You were sure you were going to be sick. Whatever the powder was, it had you spinning at a pace you didn’t know was possible, you had screwed your eyes shut and you were almost certain that you could feel yourself physically moving. It was only when George tugged on your hand that you opened your eyes to see that your surroundings had actually changed. “It’s horrible the first time, but you get used to it,” George said, pulling you by your still intertwined hands onto the cobbled street. The dizziness died down after only a few seconds out in the fresh air, the added sensation of George’s thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand seemed to do the trick in settling you completely as you took in the street ahead of you. It was dazzling, really. A long cobbled street, lined with shops that looked like they were plucked straight out of a fairytale. As planned, the streets were fairly empty in the early morning as George led you down the path towards the shop where you’d hopefully get your wand. The name “Olivanders” was written above both windows of the dark shop, the words “makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.” were to be seen just above the door. Excitement had completely overridden your nerves and you practically skipped towards the door, George followed casually behind you, his hands tucked into his pockets and a fond smile on his lips.

“I suppose you’re excited then?” He asked teasingly and you didn’t bother trying to hide your obvious childlike wonder as you waited for him to catch up with you.

“It probably seems silly to you, but this morning Cecillia told me all about when she got her wand and it sounded so wonderful,” you told him, smiling when he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“I don’t think it’s silly, I still get giddy thinking about the time Fred and I got wands of our own,” he pushed the door open and motioned for you to step inside, slowly you walked into the empty shop. It was dark and somewhat dingy but there was something very mystically inclining about it, you could feel the energy and it was utterly exhilarating.

“Wow,” you breathed out, spinning where you stood, gazing at the boxes upon boxes that lined the shelves.

Only a minute passed before an old man stumbled to the front of the shop, smiling at the pair of you from behind the counter, “Ah, Mr. Weasley, it’s good to see you, it’s been some time. What can I do for you this morning? I see you’ve brought a friend,” the older wizard greeted and you smiled in response.

“I’m looking for a wand. I’ve been living in the states for the past few years but I just moved home,” you lied easily, George couldn’t help but smirk, what he’d give to have had you around for some of his and Fred’s pranks at Hogwarts.

The old man nodded in understanding, his eyes scanned you, his eyes were scrutinising and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, “Interesting. One moment please,” he said, murmuring to himself as he searched the isles for what he was looking for. A small “aha” sounded from within the isles, he was back in front of you within seconds, an open rectangular box in his hand. It was absolutely gorgeous, it resembled a raw tree branch, wood spiralling up its expanse until it stopped at the top, cutting off in a jagged, dull edge. He must’ve noticed how your jaw dropped, how could he not? He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you since you’d wandered into his shop. He was an old wizard, but he wasn’t naive, he was well aware you weren’t returning from America, he could sense an energy in you that he hadn’t come in contact with in a long time. “Curious, isn’t it?” He prompted you, causing you to let out an airy laugh. Cecillia was going to tease you big time when you got back to her cabin.

“It’s lovely, what is it?” He offered you the box expectantly and you hesitantly picked up the wand with as much care as you possibly could. It was cool against your skin and was heavier than you’d imagined it would be.

“Thirteen inch, oak; cut from the base of a tree, which at the time, was almost six hundred years old,” he explained, watching happily as you ran your fingers along the wands several ridges,”With a phoenix feather core, quite a rare piece indeed. Unfortunately, this particular wand has been extremely difficult to match to a witch. But something tells me that you might be just the witch for the job,” he held your gaze and you once again got the feeling that he knew something he shouldn’t, “Go on, then. Give it a wave,” he prompted and you looked to George for further encouragement. George laughed at your lost expression, pulling his own wand out and pointing it towards the now empty box on the counter, “Like this, love,” he demonstrated, moving his wrist in a semi-circle motion, making the box levitate off the counter.

Another pet name. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach in favour of clearing your throat, squaring your shoulders and pointing your wand at the same box George had just made float, which was now settled back against the counter. Imitating the boy beside you, you moved your wrist in a swift semi-circle. Suddenly, a golden light poured from the tip of the wand and warm air surrounded you, gently blowing your hair back and forcing a laugh of disbelief to leave your lips. George stood wide eyed beside you, his lips parted slightly. He was amazed really, he went through five wands before he found the one that fit him, yet you’d found yours on the first try, and he had to admit; you looked glorious doing it.

After paying for your wand, you exited the shop, looking around George’s side at the list he was holding. From what you could make out, Cecillia had added a number of items to the originally very short list; 1) a wand, 2) a pendulum (crystal of the ladies choice), 3) crystals: labradorite, lapis lazuli & azurite, 4) mugwort, 5) new tarot deck (again, whatever she wants Sirius can afford it ;)).

“Suppose our next stop is the divination shop,” George said, mostly to himself but gave you a mischievous smile, “If we hurry up and get our shopping done fast we could probably get a butterbeer in before we rejoin the rest of the Order,” he sang, grazing his hand against yours as you walked side by side.

“Beer? You seriously want to drink beer at half eight in the morning?” You asked him, your eyebrow raised and he replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against his side and once again leaning his head down so his lips were level with your eye.

“No, you git,” he began with a laugh, “It’s not really beer, it’s pretty sweet; most wizards love it.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, “Sounds nice,” you told him absently, preoccupied with all the intriguing shops that surrounded you. George’s arm remained wrapped around your shoulder as you strolled further into Diagon Alley, seemingly uninterested in his offer for a butterbeer. The pair of you got what you needed from the shop and, since it hadn’t taken long, you decided to take George up on his drinks offer. You noticed that he seemed a little bit crestfallen since your noncommittal answer earlier.

“Hey,” you said, bumping your arm against his.

“Hello,” he replied, returning the gesture.

“So… d’you wanna go get one of those beer things that you were talking about earlier?” You asked nervously, your lip between your teeth. For all you knew, asking someone to grab a butterbeer in the wizarding world was the muggle equivalent to proposing.

George flashed you a grin that was almost childlike, it was mesmerising, so sweet and pure and you almost wished you’d brought your camera to take a picture of it. “I thought you’d never ask.”

With a giggle you let him grab your hand and lead you excitedly towards a building that had “The Leaky Cauldron” written above the door. When you got inside, George led you to a small round table with two chairs and you both sat down opposite each other. As casually as you could, you rested your elbow against the table and let your cheek rest against your fist, for a solid few minutes, while George ordered, you curiously looked around the pub until your gaze finally rested on George who was already looking at you with a soft smile, “Having fun?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You nodded your head, “Mhm, are you? I’m sure getting up at the crack of dawn to take me shopping isn’t something someone like you would usually like to do for fun,” you said, becoming slightly self conscious when you realised that he probably wasn’t enjoying the morning as much as you were. This was all normal for him, you’d nearly forgotten.

George gave you a perplexed look, “Course I’m having fun, love. But, what do you mean someone like me?”

You shrugged, once again pushing down the butterflies that arose in your stomach from the pet name, “I dunno, you’re just- you’re mischievous and fun and… I don’t know, shopping for stuff with me doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d want to do. I just hope Sirius didn’t force you into it,” you admitted shyly, smiling gratefully at the waiter when he placed the mugs of golden liquid on the table.

George chewed on his bottom lip for a second before he shook his head, “He didn’t force me. I sort of, well, I sort of forced him to let me take you. He wanted Professor Lupin to do it but I…” he let out an exaggerated sigh before giving you a smile, “I wanted to spend time with you,” he confessed sweetly, watching happily as a smile formed on your lips and you tried to hide it in the rim of your butterbeer. He laughed when your face lit up once the liquid hit your lips, “Like it?”

“This stuff is amazing,” you almost shouted, taking another large sip from the drink, “No wonder you all love it so much.”

George snickered, “Just in case it wasn’t clear; I’m having a lot of fun with you,” he said all too casually, taking a sip of his drink.

“Where to now?” You wondered, after you’d finished your drinks and set off back towards the floo network.

George shot you a cheeky look and wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m taking you back to headquarters.”

“Sounds ominous,” you commented, following him into the fireplace, nervously.

“D’you want a tip?” George asked out of the blue and you looked up at him expectantly, nodding. “The dizziness isn’t as bad if you keep your eyes open,” he whispered, taking your hand once again and throwing down the same green powder from earlier and shouting a new location that you hadn’t heard before. You cringed as the world began to spin, listening to George’s advice hadn’t helped much as the transportation was just as awful as it had been the first time. Unbeknownst to you, you were squeezing George’s hand like your life depended on it, George’s thumb had resumed brushing circles around your hand in response, the harsh squeezing didn’t bother him at all, not when it was you doing the squeezing. Just like earlier, George led you out of the fireplace and into the unfamiliar sitting room. Though the room was completely unfamiliar it was full of faces you immediately recognised, one face in particular standing out above all the rest.

In a second you’d dropped not only George’s hand, but all of your shopping bags to the floor carelessly and hurled yourself towards the boy who had already begun rushing towards you the second he caught sight of you appearing in the fireplace. Your bodies collided with so much force that you nearly sent each other tumbling to the ground, laughter sounded from both of you as you swayed the other, almost roughly, the way you always did when reuniting after an extended period of time.

“Glad to see you in one piece, Harry,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips, opting not to call him Haz in front of all of his wizard friends lest they tease him, not to mention you’d become quite possessive of the nickname, you wouldn’t be too pleased if anyone else started adopting it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“Yeah, you too,” his smile was as wide as could be when he shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” You teased, jokingly taking his cheek between your thumb and your pointer, giving the skin between them a gentle squeeze. Harry swatted your hand away with a low chuckle and unraveled his arms from around you.

“Alright, you two, if you’re ready we have some matters we need to discuss with our newest member,” Sirius’ voice sounded from behind you, a knowing look on his face as he watched Harry sneakily pinch your arm in retaliation. He had to fight the urge he felt to reminisce on his old school days; when he’d purposely annoy James, Remus or Peter and receive the exact same mockingly vengeful look that you’d just given Harry.

“I’ll bring your things to the kitchen,” George announced, reminding you of his presence before he walked rather quickly out of the room, bags clutched in his hands.

Harry snorted out a laugh when Sirius followed George out of the room, leaving the both of you alone. Harry wiggled his eyebrows and did his best to make his voice take on a sultry tone, “he’s bringing your things to the kitchen.”

“Shut your mouth, Potter,” you replied, pinching his cheek for the second time and tossing your arm around his shoulder, him doing the same as he led you to what you assumed was the kitchen.

“Do I have your permission to open my mouth to tell you something,” Harry asked lightly, stopping so you were both standing outside a closed wooden door.

“I’ll allow it,” you answered, smiling softly at your best friend.

Harry grinned, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Haz,” the boy groaned at the name but made no further comment, he pushed the wooden door open and walked inside.

The room held a long table where many adults were sat, chatting in hushed whispers when you entered the room, some of whom you recognised and some you didn’t. Mrs. Weasley was fluttering about the table, filling people’s tea cups before she spotted you. The woman, who you’d only ever met briefly at King’s Cross station one year, rushed over to you and greeted you warmly, “Hello, dear! Come, come sit down!” She ushered you to a vacant chair beside George and across from Fred, Harry took the seat on your other side. “I trust you got everything you needed from Diagon Alley? I hope that son of mine didn’t cause any trouble for you,” you gave her a friendly smile and shook your head.

“Yes, we were able to find what we needed and George was very helpful,” Mrs. Weasley, seemingly satisfied with your answer, offered a gentle smile to you and George. She then pushed a cup of tea towards you before sitting down herself.

Beneath the table George bumped his knee lightly against yours, but didn’t break from his conversation with his twin as he left his knee pressed against yours. You didn’t draw attention to it either, simply letting your knee relax against his as the witches and wizards at the long table grew quiet in favour of staring at you wordlessly.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the news of the seer we’ve acquired,” Sirius’ commanding voice broke the silence as he stood up from his chair, and placed his palms against the table, “I’ve brought her here today so that we may discuss proceedings to ensure her safety.”

“Yes,” a toneless drawl, drawn out nasally from the end of the table drew your attention to a black haired man at the opposite end of the table, “and what of Mr. Potter’s presence?” He asked, almost menacingly. Right off the bat, you didn’t like the greasy haired man. He was rigid and his face sported a permanent snarl and from across the table you could already tell; he wasn’t on your side.

“She’s my best friend, I’m here to make sure she’s not going to be put in any unnecessary danger,” Harry told the man shortly, in a tone that he’d more than likely perfected after having spoken to the man previously.

“As touching as that may be,” the older man snarled, “you are not a member of the Order.”

“Oh, enough, Serverus,” Sirius scoffed, pulling his hand down his face in exasperation before he let his eyes settle on Harry, “Perhaps you should wait upstairs for now. We’ll let you know of any significant updates.”

“I’ll tell you everything later, promise,” you whispered quietly, linking his pinky with yours beneath the table before he stropily took his leave.

“As I was saying,” Sirius spared Severus a glare and continued, “As we know, Yn is an unregistered wizard with an unregistered wand, meaning she won’t be on the radar of The Ministry of Magic. On the downside of this, seeing as her power manifested late, she is also untrained.”

All gazes fell to you once more, only Remus’ eyes were staring softly, crinkled at the edges from the smile on his lips, “I’ll be tutoring her in Defence Against the Dark Arts over the summer. She’ll catch up quickly, no doubt,” you smiled gratefully at him from your spot, relaxing a bit knowing that you’d actually be learning how to defend yourself the wizard way.

“I suppose I will be tasked with teaching the art of Occlumency? A seer with an easily accessible mind is hardly an asset,” Severus drawled. You didn’t have a clue what occlumency was, in all honesty, but you kept your mouth shut in favour of asking Remus when the meeting was over.

The meeting soon drew to a close, the older Order members slinking to one end of the table to arrange the schedule for your glorified summer school while you, Fred and George snuck away to find Harry. You found him sitting against the headboard of a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, “How’d it go?”

“Take a guess, mate, Snape had a right sour look on his face the whole time,” Fred answered, sitting on the bed across from Harry’s. George sat beside him and you made your way to sit with Harry.

“Ah, so that was the infamous professor Snape?” All three boys nodded, looks of exhaustion on their faces, “I don’t trust him. Something is very off about him,” you spoke thoughtfully and the boys nodded in agreement once again.

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him,” George said, his brows furrowed.

Fred snorted and clapped his twin roughly on the shoulder, “Getting a bit jealous are you, Georgie?” Harry laughed along with Fred while you blushed lightly and George felt heat rising up the nape of his neck.

“Sod off,” he muttered, but made no attempt to deny that he was slightly jealous of all the alone time his old evil potions professor would be getting with the girl he was harbouring feelings for.

The afternoon quickly turned into the evening and before long you were gathering your things and preparing to return to Cecillia’s. Harry would be heading back to the Dursley’s later that night, much to his dismay. You told him you’d be back on Privet Drive at some point the next morning since Cecillia would be dropping you home, as she promised your parents, so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone for too long.

That summer came and went in a bit of a blur. Two days in each week were spent learning how to protect yourself against the dark arts with Remus. He’s an amazing teacher, that couldn’t be disputed. In the space of only two months he had you duelling like you’d been doing it since the day you were born. Of course, you were thrilled to be bonding with your wand and developing (according to Remus) a very impressive skill for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But, on top of that, the shared conversations and exchanging of stories over hefty mugs of hot chocolate with the werewolf had been a huge highlight of your summer, and had caused the two of you to grow exponentially closer.

September was nearing and with it came a stiff breeze that prompted the hair on your arms to stand alert as you waited by the bus stop, the one just down the road from your house. Today was to be an important lesson with Remus, he hadn’t told you what the lesson would entail, but he had said that it was a charm that was “of the utmost importance”.

Although June, July and August were technically your summer holidays, you’d barely had a second to rest. You were, at this point, running on fumes and sheer will power. Extensively using magic was bound to wear you out, however, getting a good night’s rest after a gruelling training session had become something of a luxury for you. Visions of the future and retellings of past torments plagued your dreams and allowed you no time to rest. One vision in particular had been reoccurring, it arrived every night for the past two weeks, taunting you. The autumn chill that dripped down your spine reminded you of the premonition, having your hairs standing due to fright, rather than cold. It was always the same, no details ever shifted or warped and, unfortunately, the experience never grew any less harrowing. The warning that the vision brought about weighed on you heavily and followed you around like a stray cat. Images of a cold, desolate, blue-hued cellar lived behind your eyes, the phantom feeling of freezing metal shackles weighed on your wrists painfully and the undiluted terror combined with the indescribable agony brought about by the unfamiliar wand shoved against your throat had you forcing yourself to stay awake until you physically couldn’t anymore, each and every night. Nobody knew about the vision, you didn’t want to worry them, though, you knew that your distress was beginning to become visible; dark bags were prominent beneath your eyes, Harry had watched you fall asleep in the middle of the day, often on his shoulder, almost everyday that week and Remus could tell by the sluggish movements of your wand that your mind was elsewhere.

A few minutes passed before your bus arrived, the journey to Grimmauld Place was quite long but you couldn’t seem to warm up to floo travel, so going on a regular bus was the better option. When the red double decker pulled up, you greeted the driver with a smile and paid for your ticket. You made your way up to the second story and sat right at the front. The bus, as it normally tended to be, was empty. Resting your head against the window, you let your eyes slip shut, the noises of tree branches brushing against the speeding windows lulling you into a, hopefully, peaceful sleep.

Thankfully when you woke up, no visions lingered. You woke up just in time too as the bus was rounding up to your stop. As usual, Remus waited for you at the bus stop, his hands shoved deep in his tattered jacket pockets and a gentle smile on his lips.

Still groggy from your nap, when you exited the bus you greeted Remus with a tired wave.

“Dare I say you haven’t been sleeping well, dear?” He said gently, walking alongside you towards the house.

You thought about it for a second, perhaps telling someone wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “I’ve just, well, I’ve been having this nightmare,” you started, growing nervous just thinking about it.

“Nightmare or vision?” He pressed as you walked into the house.

Guilt creeped into your chest upon seeing the clear worry on his face, “I think it’s a vision.”

Remus nodded quietly, placing his hand on the small of your back and pushing you in the direction of the living room. He gave you a warm smile, when you sat down on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it over your lap. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we can discuss this,” he suggested.

“I thought you had an important lesson for today?” He only shook his head, smiling lightly.

He made his way to the door wordlessly and returned within two minutes with two big, steaming mugs in his hands. Remus handed you a mug and sat down beside you on the sofa, accepting your invitation to pull the blanket over his lap too.

“Now tell me; what has been going on in that wonderful mind of yours?”

You took in a deep breath, staring into the hot chocolate and avoiding his understanding gaze, “It happened for the first time around two weeks ago. I thought that it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like a dream but I thought that if I kept telling myself it was I would start to believe it,” you started, taking a sip of your drink before going back to staring at it, “But it kept coming back. Every night for the last two weeks. I haven’t been able to sleep, I’ve been too scared to,” your voice was small as you made the confession. You hated that the feeling of helplessness was beginning to wash over you yet again.

“What happens in this vision?” At his question, you placed your cup on the floor and turned to face him fully, turning on the sofa and pulling your knees up to your chest.

“It’s always the same. I wake up and the first thing I know is that I’m absolutely freezing. I’m in this cellar-like thing. I’m chained up by my wrists and my feet are barely touching the ground… I can’t see anyone but I can feel-“ your breath hitched and you rushed the swipe the tears that were falling away from your cheeks, “I can feel a wand against my throat, it’s pressing hard. There’s a whisper, it’s quiet and ghostly and I can barely make it out but I hear them say; crucio.”

Remus’ eyes widened in horror.

“Then I feel nothing but agonising pain and then I wake up,” Remus’ eyebrows furrowed.

“You’ve had this same vision every night?” You nodded.

“I know I should have said something but I didn’t want anyone to worry,” it was then that Remus grabbed your hands and looked at you with a sense of urgency you didn’t know he could possess.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” his eyes were wild and his hands shook lightly as they held yours, “You-Know-Who is back. There are already reports of certain Wizards going missing and none of us have any doubt that it’s his doing. And although I- we- care for you a great deal, it would serve us all well to remember that you’re a detrimental piece in this war. If he catches wind of you, he’ll stop at nothing to take you from us,” your heart was now running at the speed of a hummingbird. “We have a plan in place to keep you safe, I fear we may have to implement it sooner than planned.”

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Order of the Phoenix, all of whom looked grave. Cecillia sat to your right while Nymphadora Tonks occupied the seat to your left. You had the pink haired auror to thank for your duelling capabilities, as well as Remus of course. Her presence was comforting, she made it a point to shoot you a wink every time she caught your eyes looking more fearful than usual.

“Our original plan will need to be tweaked, I ran into Narcissa Malfoy in Diagon Alley and she very plainly insinuated that I was a person of interest in the death eating community,” Cecillia informed the table, a, for lack of a better word, bitchy tone laced in her voice. She’d told you many of her Hogwarts stories, you could recall her telling you that she and the woman she’d mentioned, Narcissa, had once been good friends until around their fourth year. She hadn’t told you what exactly had happened, only that it had been messy.

“What was the original plan?” You asked, growing frustrated with the Order’s lack of communication skills.

Thankfully, being one of the younger members of the group, Tonks understood your frustrations and spoke up on behalf of the group, regardless of whether they were ready for you to know or not; she understood that it was your life they were coordinating.

“We talked about relocating you to CeCe’s. We also, and far more pressingly, planned on erasing all traces of you from both the muggle and wizard world. Which would mean using a memory charm on your family and friends in the muggle world,” Tonks explained, eyes locked on yours while everyone else in the room glared daggers at the purple haired girl.

“Yes. Though we also planned on telling you this information with a far more delicate approach,” Snapped Molly Weasley from the end of the table, causing Fred, who sat to her left, to roll his eyes.

“She’s been riddled with visions of being ruthlessly tortured with an unforgivable curse for the past two weeks. I think the time for delicacy is long passed,” the older of the two twins practically scoffed. George nodded in agreement.

“Besides,” he set his gaze on you, eyes genuine and unwavering as he spoke, “she’s strong enough to handle the truth. It’s time you all stopped acting like she isn’t.”

The table fell silent. His words hung in the air as many of the adults hung their heads.

“By memory charm I’m assuming you mean obliviate?” You broke the silence, if you could you hoped to start an open conversation with the experienced witches and wizards that surrounded you.

“Yes. They’re completely reversible and once the war is over I’ll restore all of the memories.” Cecillia said.

“We know it’s a huge ask, dear, but it’s our best chance at keeping you out of that wretched creature’s hands,” Molly attempted to soothe both you and herself when she pictured what it would like to be in your shoes, how she’d feel if she had no other choice but to be forgotten by the thing she valued the most; her family. Molly Weasley had never been very good at hiding her maternal instincts, over the summer that fact had become glaringly obvious to you. You and Harry had laughed about how the children of Privet Drive had a special place in her heart.

“I understand,” you told her sadly, chewing on the inside of your lip, “I’m guessing by the atmosphere in the room that I won’t be home to say goodbye before you wipe their memories,” you shifted yours eyes from person to person, stopping when Cecillia took your hand firmly in hers.

Her lips were downturned and her eyes filled with guilt, she shook her head mournfully, “I’m afraid we can’t risk it, my darling. Even being here places you in danger at the moment.”

“Where will she go then? If CeCe’s place isn’t an option we’ll have to find a safe house,” Sirius sounded and, simultaneously, both Fred and George stood up, shoulder to shoulder with very professional expressions on their faces.

“We may be able to help with that, actually. George, if you would,” Fred started, nodding to his twin who straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out over so slightly.

“Thank you, Fred. As you know, we have a property for Weasley Wizard Wheezes secured and we’ll be living in the flat above where the shop will be,” everyone at the table, including yourself, stared at the twins in confusion, not quite sure where they were going with their little pitch until Fred took over again.

“And that flat has three bedrooms,” he said, a smirk growing on his thin lips.

George spoke again, “Which means there’s one for me and one for Fred.”

“Which means there’s one spare,” Fred grinned wickedly.

Tonks let out an impressed laugh once the penny finally dropped, “We apparate her in and nobody would ever know a thing. Nobody other than those of us in the room know that Y/n is a friend of the Weasley’s, plus us visiting the joke shop wouldn’t raise any suspicion. I have to give it to them, it’s a great idea,”

“And one of the two of us will always be within shouting distance if anything happens,” George added, somewhat pleadingly.

Sirius looked across the table at you, “Y/n, it’s up to you. Whatever you decide will be final, we won’t interfere,” he promised sincerely. It was an easy decision, but still, it weighed heavily on your chest. In all honesty, you weren’t worried about your location, staying with the twins would surely be a light and fun time amidst all the doom and gloom. Your worry was that you would, once again, be handing over your control. Sirius dressed it up as though it was your choice, but you knew that this was probably their best option and in reality you really had no other choice than to move in with Fred and George.

“Sounds good to me,” you whispered halfheartedly, eyes dropping to stare at your lap as your teeth pulled anxiously at the skin of your lips.

“So it’s settled then,” Remus said, “Y/n will go with Fred and George tonight.”

Abruptly, you pushed your chair away from the table and stood up. Sparing nobody a glance, you left the room as quickly as you possibly could, before the lump in your throat could choke you or the tears that pooled in your eyes spilled like water through a broken dam. George made a move to rise from his seat only for Remus to stop him by placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Give her a moment.”

You found yourself locked in the second story bathroom, sitting in the bath. Your legs hung out over the side of the tub while your head was tilted back against the black tiled wall. As hard as you tried to prevent them, tears were streaming down the expense of your cheeks, neck and beneath the neckline of your shirt. The minutes ticked by yet your chest continued to rise and fall rapidly due to the sobs that shook it, your breath uneven. Visions of brutal torture were bad enough when you were in your own home, in your own warm bed, with your parents just a room away and ready to make you a hot cup of tea after you woke up screaming. Now, the visions would without a doubt continue to plague you, unlike before though, you wouldn’t be waking up in a familiar setting, nor would you fall asleep in the comfort of your own mattress, when you woke up screaming so loud that your throat grew raw, your comfort would rely on two seventeen year old boys who seldom took things seriously. It’s not that you didn’t trust them, no, you trusted them with your life- you are trusting them with your life, it’s just that there was already a lot going on in your mind at the moment, moving in with your crush and his identical twin brother isn’t exactly your idea of a nerve killer.

A knock against the bathroom door pulled you from your thoughts. You rushed to wipe your tears with your sleeves, sniffling, “Come in,” you choked out. Cursing your voice for breaking when you spoke.

Remus’ head poked through the door, his body following soon after. Even in an atmosphere as dense as this one, a sense of gentle calm always followed Remus wherever he went. Clumsily, the werewolf slid into the bath beside you with a low “oof” sound, mimicking your position with his much longer legs dangling closer to the wooden floor than your own.

“CeCe has gone to collect your things for you and get Harry, then, I believe, perform the spell,” he eyed you cautiously, hyper aware of your glassy eyes and puffy face. When your eyes widened and you whipped your face towards him, his stomach twisted into knots, he hated seeing you like this. He could sympathise with your feelings. When James and Lily were killed, and Sirius went to Azkaban and even when Peter was presumed dead, Remus had been left with a vicious frustration fuelled by his belief that he was utterly powerless in his own life. He could see in your eyes that that same notion was starting to creep up on you too.

“Already?” You gasped out, pulse rising again, a slight panic setting in. “It won’t hurt them will it? The spell?” You fretted, looking pleadingly to the man beside you.

He shook his head, tenderly taking your hand and placing it against his clothed chest, his beating heart present against the palm of your shaking hand. “I promise you that they won’t feel a thing. They will go on living an exciting life, travelling, seeing the world safely while you’re away. When this is all over we’ll place their memories of you back in their minds and it will be as though you were never gone.” Your teeth found the inside of your cheek again, gnawing relentlessly at the skin as you failed miserably to hold back a fresh set of tears. Remus squeezed the hand he held against his chest. “Let it out, Y/n. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered, heart sinking lower when your bottom lip quivered and you let a rasped sob leave your body. With a deep sigh, Remus used the hand he was already holding as leverage to pull you into him, wasting no time he enveloped you in his arms, holding you securely as you cried against his chest. Admittedly, it felt good to let it out, Remus’ hand rubbed soothing circles against your heaving back and eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you calmed down, your tear ducts all dried out.

Remus held you in his arms for a while longer, even though you’d stopped crying, he could feel your body as it continued to shake. “I can’t promise you it will all be okay, but I can assure you that myself and Sirius, and everyone else for that matter, will be there for you at the drop of a hat; whatever you need,” he spoke against your hair.

“Whatever I need?” You echoed, the pit in your stomach ever growing.

“Of course,” he confirmed.

Remus startled slightly when you suddenly tore yourself away from him. As best you could in your awkward position, you turned to face him and grabbed his hands with as much urgency as he had done with yours. “I need you to do something for me,” Remus furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded his head anyway.

“If anything happens to me… Don’t make them remember,” you instructed, maybe the request would’ve seemed radical if you had said it to anyone else, but you knew that Remus had experienced losses like no one else you knew, perhaps Harry came close but even his shortcomings couldn’t compare to Remus’. “It’d only cause them pain. If I die and they’re happily living none the wiser, leave them be, please,” the man let out a heavy sigh and took a moment to take you in. Your eyes were hard yet pleading, they left him no room to negotiate and he understood perfectly where you were coming from.

“Alright,” he agreed before raising his eyebrow and readjusting himself to get a better look at you, “However you should know; no matter what may come of this war, none of us will forget about you. In such a short time you’ve given us so much… you gave Harry his first friendship, a friendship that he cherishes more than anything in the world, I might add. You saved Sirius from death, my fiancé and Harry’s godfather. Mentoring you has given Cecillia a new lease of life and Molly Weasley one more child to knit jumpers for at Christmas,” he took a brief pause then went on, “For the sake of saving time I won’t even begin to tell you what you mean to the twins. My point is;” there was a melancholic type of smile on his face when he paused again, as if he was imagining what it would be like to remember you fondly if you did in fact die for the cause, “What you’re asking is incredibly selfless. And while your mother and father may not remember how wonderful you are, we all will.” Remus chuckled lowly when you shuffled your way back into his arms, squeezing his middle tightly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and delicately pressed his lips to the top of your head. You held so much love in your heart for the man who was currently cradling you in his arms. You debated telling him, you weren’t sure if it was entirely appropriate but after the speech he’d just given you couldn’t have cared less, “Remus?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you murmured, looking up at him innocently.

He offered you a toothy smile and breathed out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” With a content nod, you rested your head back against his chest, enjoying his soothing heartbeats against your ear. A melodic hum rumbled against your cheek, a quiet giggle left your mouth when you recognised the melody to the song he was humming. The tune of “Rhiannon” by Fleetwood Mac floated through the bathroom bringing a genuine smile to your lips. The werewolf’s humming was interrupted by another knock against the bathroom door, whoever was knocking didn’t wait for a response before entering the room. Sirius stepped in and quietly shut the door behind him. He didn’t question you and Remus' position in the bath but simply slid into the tub on the other side of you, sandwiching you between himself and Remus. The black haired man let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the tiles.

“The mother hens downstairs are worrying up a storm,” he said in exasperation, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tonks so riled up about someone’s safety. I tasked Molly with making you some hot chocolate to keep her occupied”

“Maybe I should go back down…” you muttered halfheartedly, begrudgingly peeling yourself away from Remus’ warm body.

Sirius gave you an apologetic look, “I held them off for as long as I could.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, bumping your shoulder to his, making him chuckle. After pulling yourself out of the bath, rather clumsily, you took a second to check yourself over in the mirror.

“You’re glowing, darling,” Sirius all but sang from behind you and you couldn’t stop the slight snort that escaped you.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“If you don’t believe me go on downstairs and ask George what he thinks,” Sirius teased, wiggling his eyebrows and receiving a light shove from his fiancé who couldn’t hide his grin.

“Leave her alone, love,” he chastised weakly, “You look perfectly fine, Y/n. Go downstairs and get something to drink, you need to rehydrate.” A bittersweet smile broke out on your lips, his fatherly tone simultaneously soothed you and left you yearning for what you were in the process of losing. Trying not to dwell on the sad fact, you left the bathroom and slowly descended the stairs.

As you assumed, the second you stepped back into the kitchen, Molly began to fret over you as if her life depended on it. Sipping on the hot chocolate she’d given you, you were reminded of how desperately tired you were. All the crying hadn’t helped ease the heaviness in your eyes either. Every bone in your body felt heavy for that matter, you were struggling to even hold your head up.

“You can lean against my shoulder if you’d like,” George’s voice broke you from your hazed state, you’d completely forgotten he was sitting beside you despite his leg that was pressed against yours beneath the table. You gave him a sleepy but grateful smile, as subtly as you could you scooched closer to the ginger and slotted yourself against his side, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “Will you keep me awake until Harry and Cecillia get here?” You requested in a slurred murmur, your eyes fluttering between open and shut.

“Of course,” was all he said, he looked down at you adoringly, smiling like an idiot when you nuzzled into his shoulder, your nose rubbing against his neck. Try as he might, George couldn’t pull his eyes away from your drowsy face. “What do you propose we do?”

You shrugged your shoulders lightly, “Just talk.”

“How would you like your new room decorated?” He asked quietly, his head tilted down while he spoke to you, so you could hear him and so he wouldn’t ruin the lulled bubble you’d managed to obtain between you by talking too loudly. A sweet smile grew on your face, a smile that all but knocked all the breath out of George’s lungs when you angled your head to make eye contact.

“Can I have a double bed?” George snorted at your question and shook his head no.

“Nothing smaller than a king. What else?”

You pretended to ponder for a moment, “Can we paint it?” The ginger nodded, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“If you want to,” he started, almost sounding nervous, “We could paint it together?” Even in your sleep deprived state you hadn’t missed the vulnerability in his voice, it was the same vulnerability that you’d noticed when he’d asked you to go get a butterbeer with him a couple of months ago.

“I’d love that,” you told him, your answer causing his lips to twist into a pleased smile, “How do you feel about the colour green?”

Immediately, his smile dropped and he let out a disgusted scoff, “Green is a Slytherin colour.”

“You keep forgetting that I don’t get the whole house sorty thing,” you reminded him, not happy with his reasoning for hating your favourite colour. “Besides, I love green, it’s my favourite colour.” You told him truthfully. Not content with his disgruntled facial expression you began to defend your preference, “A lot of beautiful things are green; you’ve got grass, trees, emeralds- did you know that emeralds are really useful for enhancing psychic abilities? It also evokes clarity of thought,” you rambled, willing yourself to be quiet when you registered George’s fond expression.

The look of endearment aimed at you brought butterflies to life in your stomach, effectively waking you up somewhat.

“Do you have any emerald?” He asked, you assumed he was only feigning interest, you didn’t know that he could’ve listened to you go on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.

“No, not yet. I should probably get some though.” You said through a yawn. Your breath against his neck made him giggle, it was pure and unsuspecting but you took note of it. Everything about George Weasley felt like sunshine to you, his laugh filled your chest with warmth whenever you heard it, his eyes found yours like a lighthouse, guiding your lost mind back to the present each time your gazes connected. His voice, like his laugh, warmed you up when you were cold, giving you a reason to stay awake when you’d rather just slip away. In conjunction with the sun, even if you couldn’t physically see him, you never doubted that he was always there. As well as all of that, like your favourite tarot card; The Sun, he signified good things, hope that hard times will end with you on top, contentment and happiness. While your thoughts consisted of George’s similarities to the sun, his were consumed with the, in his mind, overwhelmingly cheesily romantic notion that you were the moon and the stars, he would’ve cringed if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe it. Everything that made the night sky magnificent was reflected in you. Like the stars, you were mysterious and captivating. Nothing seemed to compare to your glow or beauty, if you were to ask him what he preferred; you or the night sky on a clear night, he’d happily ignore a blank, starless sky in favour of simply staring at you as you went on tangent after tangent about crystals or tarot cards.

The pair of you were pulled from your musings when Harry rushed through the kitchen door looking unmistakably heartbroken, ever the empath when it came to his best friend, Harry’s heart sank the moment he laid eyes on your form, limp against George’s side. The second you saw him you all but ripped yourself from George’s side and the older redhead felt a surge of irrational jealousy begin to build in his chest at how fast you left his hold in favour of the chosen one. He knew it was ridiculous, he’d heard the way each of you respectively talked about each other, at this point you were practically siblings. But he supposed it was rational to be jealous when you liked someone the way he liked you.

Quickly, you crossed the room to Harry who had his arms already outstretched. He knew you were emotionally exhausted when you didn’t bear hug him. You meekly slid your arms beneath his open zip-up hoodie, tucked your head beneath his chin and didn’t say a word. “I shouldn’t bother asking if you’re okay then,” Harry muttered to himself, leaning his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his lanky arms around your frame.

“Did Cecillia remember to bring Astra?” You asked, it was all you wanted to know about the night’s events.

“She’s in her cage in the living room, darling,” Cecilia said, walking into the room looking guilty.

“C’mon, let’s go have a chat,” Harry suggested, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs to his unofficial room. Once inside the room you sat down on the edge of the bed, the blue duvet softly creasing beneath you. Harry plopped himself down beside you and offered you a gesture that was always saved for when either of you felt the other was on the edge of something dangerous. Your hands rested against your lap and he deftly slid his pinky over yours, intertwining your two littlest fingers. It was such a familiar experience; he’d done it when your grandparents died, when you’d cried over failed exams that you worked hard for, and in turn, you did it for him when he’d felt as though he had no place in the world, when he’d open up about his parents and when Cedric died and the ministry dragged his name through the mud you’d find your pinky tangled with his almost every night after he’d sneak over to your place after another nightmare or panic attack. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “Not tonight. I don’t want to cry anymore,” you croaked out, looking straight ahead of you at the grey painted wall.

“I understand,” he said, sighing and dropping his head onto your shoulder, “Let’s talk about something else then.”

“Like what, Haz?”

Harry snorted out a chuckle, “Like the way George looked like he wanted to hex me when you left him to come to me,” he teased, a smug lilt to his voice.

“He wasn’t teasing me, perhaps I’ll go back to him,” you grumbled, ignoring Harry’s childish giggles.

“Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smacked his arm lightly with your free hand, doing a bad job of containing giggles of your own. “Don’t worry, since he’s going to be your new roommate there will be plenty of time for “oh George I’m so sleepy, please hold me until I fall asleep”,” you let out a cackle at Harry’s terrible impression of your voice, laying your cheek against his wild hair.

“That is so not what was going on, Haz,” you defended with a tiny smile.

Harry let out an airy, disbelieving chuckle, “Then what was going on?”

“He just said I could lean on him until you and Cecillia arrived and we just started chatting about how I wanna decorate my room,” you explained truthfully and Harry nodded.

“Riveting,” he mumbled sarcastically. Despite his snarky comment, the boy removed his head from your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “Jokes aside, I’m glad you’re staying with him, I know he’ll look after you for me,” you rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

“I don’t need to be looked after,” you reminded him, looking up at him with a chastising smile.

He rolled his eyes right back at you, jostling you slightly in his arms, “No. But you like to be.”

You threw your head back in laughter, “Yeah, I suppose I do.” You did. You quite like both doting on people and being doted on, you’d grown up in an affectionate family so it was no wonder really.

“It’s getting late. We should get you settled into your new home,” Harry announced, pulling himself and you up from the bed, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you look terrible. You need sleep.”

“Thank you, Harry. Just what every girl wants to hear before moving in with her crush,” you joked, gently hitting your hip against his.

The kitchen was quiet when you returned, it seemed everyone had grown tired from the dramatic events of the evening.

“Ready to go then?” Fred asked, his coat already on and a handful of your bags in his hands.

“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

After saying goodbye to everyone you, Fred and George traveled to their apartment by floo, to your dismay. The apartment was bare as they’d only just moved in but you could see it had lots of potential for becoming a cozy home for the twins.

As your first night in your new residence began, your aching eyes and tired mind didn’t leave you with any time to dwell on current events, the second your head made contact with the pillow you were out like a light. A dreamless slumber welcomed you for a while until your peace was broken by the all too familiar nightmare.

The first thing you recognised was the burn coming from your wrists. Shackles adorned them and effectively held your hands high above your head, stretching them uncomfortably. Goosebumps painted the expanse of your arms and legs, due to the freezing temperature in the nondescript cellar. A feeling of hopelessness planted firmly in your chest, the feeling only hightening when the familiar echo of footsteps, heavy and loud, drifted from the corridor outside of your field of vision. You knew who was approaching, you’ve lived this before, and so, you held your lip between your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut. The face of the dark wizard who always brought about your intense suffering was, for the most part, completely fuzzy, unrecognisable, featureless and bone-chillingly terrifying. You’d learned over the last two weeks of having this vision that it was less harrowing if you closed your eyes.

“I’ll ask you once more,” The voice was distorted, like it was being heard through a weedy radio, ominously unplaceable, “Where is he?”

You held no control over your voice, as was the norm during visions, as you felt and heard yourself reply, “I’ll tell you once more; I’d sooner die then sell him to you.” You felt your teeth gritting and your jaw clenching while you spoke. Jaw only tightening when the pointed tip of the wizard’s wand stabbed unforgivingly against the column of your neck.

“And die you will, my dear. But not yet-“ your eyes sealed themselves shut and you did your best to shake yourself out of the vision before what you knew was coming took place, as usual, your attempts were fruitless, “-Crucio.” Just like that your body was consumed by pain, the likes of which you’d never imagined possible, until you couldn’t even register yourself screaming anymore.

You bolted upright, clutching at the sheets of your new bed. Laboured breaths left your mouth and you aimlessly gripped at your neck, where the wand had been pressed, and let the tears spill freely. Momentarily disoriented, you’d forgotten where you were. Deep, heavy bursts of air left your mouth as you hastily scurried out of bed and towards the door. Somewhat aimlessly, you gravitated to the door across the hall. A yellow hue seeped from under the frame into the otherwise dark hallway. Light flooded the hall once you managed to fumble the handle down and pull the door ajar, a discombobulated ginger greeting you with half lidded eyes, obviously having been dozing off before you disturbed his peace.

“Sorry,” you rasped once your peace of mind returned to you and you realised where you were. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t have been standing numbly in his doorway, your feet seemed to be rooted in place, you couldn’t have walked away if you wanted to.

“S’alright,” George called out to you softly, sitting up in his bed, his back against the headboard. “You can come in, you know.”

Shutting the door behind you, you nervously shuffled into the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed. George’s eyes roamed your face and he took notice of your still somewhat panicked expression, he drew his covers to the side and patted the empty space by his side. Something that always intrigued you was people’s preferred side of the bed, some people gravitated towards the left while others were more biased towards the right, but George Weasley? He slept right in the middle. The twin slept with a huge number of pillows, to the point where it was almost laughable, many of which you could only guess he’d smuggled from the Burrow.

Far too wound up to save face, you slid into his bed and didn’t shy away when he guided you into his side and tucked you tenderly beneath his lean arm. His embrace offered a greatly appreciated warmth as the chill of the dank dungeon always lingered long after the vision itself was over.

“What’re you doing up so late?” You asked, your voice gravelly. As you spoke, George effortlessly shuffled your body and his down so that your backs were resting on the mattress and not the headboard. Your head found it’s home against George’s shoulder and your hair was being tentatively twirled between his fingers.

“It’s our first night actually sleeping here. I couldn’t get to sleep,” he explained, his voice low and laced with fatigue. “I’m not really used to having my own room. It’s strange not hearing Freddie snoring or breathing.”

“I get that,” you whispered, “it’s quite comforting knowing for certain that someone is there with you.”

George nodded then. His eyes were glued to your face and he hadn’t even registered his own thought process before his lips were pressing delicately against your forehead. Today had appeared to be the day for laying all your cards out on the table, yourself and George hadn’t danced around your feelings for each other half as much as you usually did when you’d be in each other’s presence. Neither of you had the energy anymore, besides, if today’s events proved anything it was that; things were getting seriously messy as the war built momentum and it was clear that time was something that could very well be running out.

“Yeah,” he regarded you carefully, a little grin growing on his lips, “It is.”

A comfortable silence overtook the room. George’s twirling of your hair never ceased, every now and then his fingers would ghost over your shoulder and you’d catch yourself smiling against the cotton of his shirt as your eyes grew tired enough that they were close to falling shut.

Just as you were working up the motivation to lift yourself up and trudge back to your own bed, George spoke, “You can sleep here if you want, with me,” there was that innocent vulnerability again. There was never an ulterior motive when it came to him, he did things purely for the sake of making others happy, if he felt he could make a difference he simply needed to. Especially when it came to you, he realised.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, daring to peek up at him.

“Course not. I could use some company anyway.” He reassured you, his lips returning to your forehead, only this time the action held far more intention. “You don’t snore do you, love?”

You snorted out a giggle, looking up at the ginger cheekily, mischief dripping from your little grin that forced George’s heart to stutter rather violently and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. “No. But I drool.”

George’s face contorted, his nose scrunching up adorably in disgust, “Do you really?”

“Suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” You teased and he sighed deeply, his disgruntled expression melting into a soft, adoring smile.

“I should’ve expected this, I knew you couldn’t have been completely perfect,” he said, mockingly sorrowful.

You scoffed, pushing his chest lightly, “You’re doing a lot of sweet talking tonight, Mr. Weasley,” you told him and he shrugged innocently.

“Just wanted to see you smiling again, darling.”

“Yeah, well, you’re doing a good job,” you assured him, the bashful yet tired smile that stretched your lips as you gazed up at him proved that you meant what you’d just said. “I like it by the way, the sweet talking.”

At your words, a huge, shit eating smirk grew on the boy’s freckled face. He managed to rearrange your bodies so that you were still tucked under his arm but you were now facing each other at eye level. “I knew it,” he proclaimed cockily.

You raised a challenging eyebrow, biting back a smirk, “Oh did you?”

George nodded pridefully, “‘Course I did. You see, I’m a little bit psychic,” his words forced a booming laugh from your lips, your cheeks hurting from the smile he’d orchestrated.

You shook your head, smile never dulling as you let out a chastising whisper, “oh sod off.”

“I love your smile,” he said suddenly, his eyes widened in horror when he realised he’d uttered the words out loud. The world could’ve stopped in that moment and you wouldn’t have noticed, all you could take in was George’s face, his eyes searching yours for something.

Carefully, you slid from hand from his chest to his red, blushing face. You cupped his cheek gently, moving your thumb against his cheek bone, almost swooning where you lay when he nuzzled against your touch. Working up some Gryffindor courage, George mimicked your movement, removing his arm from around your shoulder and bringing his palm to rest against the curve of your jaw.

As you stared at each other, you weighed up the pros and cons of telling him that you were completely head over heels for him. Your decision, apparently taking far too long, was made for you when George tugged you impossibly closer to him.

“I wasn’t going to tell you… you’ve had so much going on I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, brown eyes boring into your soul.

“Tell me what?”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for every possible outcome that may spring once the words on the tip of his tongue are spoken aloud, “That I love you.”

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.1

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

ch.2

Beautiful artwork was created by @starstruck-loner​! THANK YOU SO MUCH SWEETIE I LOVE IT!!!

~~~~~~~~~~

Snow freckled the chilly January day lightly, like powdered sugar over a freshly baked pastry, sticking to each layer effortlessly and creating a blanket that completely covered the woods and the cabin nested between the trees. The atmosphere was still and stiff, like frozen icicles that were not going to start dripping any time soon. The air was bitter and unwelcoming, which was probably why no living thing was outside today. Today was the perfect day to burrow and sleep and keep warm with your own body heat.

A crack through space-time cut through the air. The crushing of tiny ice particles followed as two twelve-year-olds ran, one chasing the other, as the time-tape was heating up and buzzing. “This thing is getting hotter! Hot! Hot, hot, hot!” Mabel attempted to save her palms from burns by bouncing the tiny machine between her hands.

“What are you doing?!” Dipper demanded as Mabel bounced the tape-measure too hard and her twin reached a hand to catch it. He managed to catch it perfectly, like an athlete catching a baseball, and then was gone in a flash of baby-blue lightning.

Mabel’s eyes widened in sheer panic and she held her arms as a gust of wind blew and nearly froze her to her core. It felt like her skin was being pricked by mean sewing needles. She looked around wildly for her brother, for him to come back to this time and place immediately, because surely he would use the time machine to come back, but seconds ticked by and she was still alone.

Puffs of smoke decorated the wintry scene as she held her shivering body and looked at the shack. It wasn’t as colorful and welcoming and loud as the shack Mabel remembered, but she made herself consider that it was because there was no big sign or tourist-y things, and it was winter. Then a light turned on, the hall if Mabel remembered her summer home correctly, and the door opened.

The hope that Mabel had in her chest of seeing her great-uncle was gone, and replaced with fear and confusion. This man looked very much like Stan, though much younger, quite chubby and youthful, wearing a black t-shirt and blue plaid pajama-pants. He had the same face as a young-Stan, but with a more pink than orange nose, a cleft chin, fluffier hair that reminded Mabel of her’s when it was short, and different glasses. 

Mabel didn’t know what to do or how to react or how to feel. People change a lot when they age, sure, but this much? It was possible this person wasn’t Stan, but who else would look so similar to him and live in this house? Maybe this is the guy who lived here before Stan, and they just happen to look very similar. This is Gravity Falls, and though she and Dipper were still new to the town, it was a weird place where something like this could happen.

It also came to Mabel how odd the situation was for the man: a little girl was standing in a sweater and skirt outside his house in the winter. Would he try to send her home? She had no home to go to. She didn’t know what year this was, but if it was a time Stan didn’t live here, it must have been way before she was born, maybe even before her parents met. She was stranded.

But the man looked at her sympathetically and he seemed kind and worried. He grabbed a trenchcoat and called gently, “Hello. Are you okay?”

Mabel bit her lip. His voice was definitely not Grunkle Stan’s. A gust of wind made her shiver and her teeth chatter, and the man stepped into some slippers and walked up to her, draping the trenchcoat over her shoulders. “There there, that’s a very nice sweater, but it doesn’t seem to be keeping you warm, is it?”

“N-No.” Mabel shivered. “I… I used breathable yarn for…” She stopped. She was going to say how she used breathable yarn for the warm California weather, but she decided not to.

“You used?” The man repeated, rubbing her shoulders to try to make the trenchcoat work faster. “You made this?”

Mabel saw his excited grin and she smiled nervously. “Y-Yeah. I knit sweaters.”

The man bent his knees in front of her and studied her sweater. She held out an arm so he could see and his brown eyes sparkled. “That’s very impressive! I love sweaters!”

Mabel gasped happily. “C-C-Can I m-make you one?!”

The man looked taken back, but chuckled and stood. “Of course, but first let’s get you warm. How does hot chocolate sound?”

“Y-Yes, p-p-please.” Mabel shivered, and allowed the man to walk her into the house.

It was scaringly like the Mystery Shack, but so much was different. It was the same layout, the same house, but there was so much that was different. A coat rack stood by the door, holding a white lab coat with black rubber gloves in the pocket, some safety goggles like the ones in Mabel’s science classes, and Stan’s fez. Mabel stared at it. Well, okay it probably wasn’t Stan’s fez, but it was a maroon fez with a golden fish and a black tassle. 

There was a wood-burning stove alive in the living room, with a small box full of wood by it and a tiny stool. Instead of Grunkle Stan’s armchair, there was a red-velvet couch, a large writing desk, and the room was decorated with books, desks, papers, and jars and experiments. It was all strange, but warm and cozy with the fire going.

Mabel smiled as the man pulled out the tiny stool and gestured for her to sit by the stove. She obeyed and the coat was removed from her shoulders, but quickly replaced with a dark-green blanket.

“There, do you mind warming up here while I make your hot chocolate?” He asked, draping his trenchcoat over his arm.

Mabel shook her head and held her cold hands in front of the stove. “Thank you.”

The man smiled. “You’re welcome.” And he turned and left for where Mabel knew the kitchen was.

Sitting alone and feeling better as her body was getting warm, Mabel thought it all over. This man was clearly not her Grunkle Stan, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t nice or couldn’t help her. Any minute Dipper was going to come back for her, but until then she had to stay where she was. That’s what grown-ups told her to do if she was ever lost. Stay where you are until you’re found.

By the time Mabel was very comfortable, the man returned with two mugs of steaming hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, and handed one to the girl. “Here you are, my dear.”

“Thank you, sir.” Mabel sipped and hummed in delight as the man sat on the floor next to her.

“You’re very welcome.” He sipped his drink and added, “Now then, I have to ask, what were you doing out there? Did you get lost?”

Mabel’s face dropped and she nodded. “Uh, huh.”

“Hm, very well. That can easily happen when playing on a snow day.” The man said with a smile. “Why don’t I call our parents and we can arrange to have you back home safe?”

Mabel swallowed nervously. She bit her lip, looking down at her mug. She didn’t know what to say to that.

The man looked at her and noticed how scared she was. “Is something wrong?”

Mabel looked up at him, was met with a kind face, and whimpered, “I can’t call them.”

The man smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure you won’t get into too much trouble. Maybe a little, but it’s for the best to call them so we can get you home soon.”

Mabel shook her head and squeezed her stinging eyes shut. “They’re… not around.”

The man’s face dropped as Mabel scrubbed at her eyes. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”

Mabel only replied with a sniff and she sipped her hot chocolate.

“Is there someone I can call for you?” The man asked. “I’m sure there’s someone out there worried about you.”

Mabel bit her lip. “M-My brother… He’s still out there…”

“Is he lost, too?”

Mabel shrugged.

“Well,” The man held his cleft chin in thought. “I’m sure he’s out there looking for you. Perhaps then you should wait here until he comes here, and then we can send you to your guardian.”

“It’s just us.” Mabel muttered. “Just us.”

The man smiled. Mabel hoped he believed her brother was much older than her, or at least old enough to take care of her. That way she wasn’t really lying, just letting this man believe what he wanted to believe. Nothing wrong with that. “Okay. Still, you may stay here until he finds you.”

Mabel sniffed and wiped her nose with her sweater sleeve. “Thank you, sir.”

“Please, call me Ford.” He said and held out a hand to her.

Mabel smiled and shook his hand. “I’m Mabel.”

“Mabel, huh? That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks.” She looked down at their hands and her eyes widened. One, two, three, four, five, s-...

Ford pulled his hand free, his cheeks reddening as he sipped his hot chocolate, but Mabel was grinning at him happily and she gasped with joy, “You have six fingers?!”

Ford blinked at her, reminding Mabel of a startled owl, and he cleared his throat. “Um, y-yes. It’s a birth defect.”

“Nuh, huh! It’s cool! Can I see, please?” Mabel sat her mug on the floor by her feet.

The researcher didn’t like people staring at his hands, but this young girl wanted to look, it appears, in admiration, so Ford hesitantly gave her his hands and she held them lovingly, her eyes sparkling like stars.

“Wow! That’s neat! No wonder your hand shake was so friendly! It’s a whole finger friendlier than normal!” Mabel was then reminded that Dipper’s journal had a six-fingered hand on it.

The girl’s eyes widened as she wondered if she was meeting Dipper’s idol. It was possible. The journal Dipper had dated it in the 80s, and Dipper said that the author mysteriously disappeared. As exciting as it was to meet the Author of the Journals, all it did was put Mabel more at ease. If anyone can help her, he can.

Ford laughed and gave her hands a soft squeeze. “I like you! You’re weird.”

Mabel grinned, distracted from her thoughts and grateful for it. “I like you, too, Ford!”

[mistresspandorawritesthings]

We All Lived Two Lives Back Then.

Let's talk about the old days of the internet. The days when dial up was literally the only option. When it was the Wild West or the Frontier and it was strange and frightening. When social media wasn't a thing, when it was chat rooms and message boards and AIM, or MSNmessenger if you were fancy. When you had to type in both the http:// AND the www. to get where you were going.

Yeah, the late 1900s (which is a phrase that automatically makes anyone with a birth year starting with a 1 feel like Rip Van Winkle waking up).

Back then, the internet was full of predators. That cool kid you're talking to in a chat room who is just like you? Is actually a 40 year old pedophile looking for prey. Never ever ever answer when someone asks you "a/s/l?" If a website requires your location, just give the continent you're on, or lie. Never ever give out your real name. Never say where you go to school. Don't say what grade you're in. Be mysterious. Be secretive. Secretive = safe. Why, just last week, we were told, some teenager met the person they were "online dating" and he was lying about his age and murdered her, do you want to be next???

Because back then, the only time the internet was in the news was when something horrible happened, so the worst humanity had to offer was always in the forefront of our minds. And they were all online.

Now, we can see this as hyperbole, that idea that "everyone" is dangerous. No, most people aren't, and they weren't then. But we erred on the side of caution back then.

Then came Facebook and their culture of accountability. Zuck and his idea that everyone should be open and honest and forthcoming online. And for whatever stupid reason, we bought into it. For some reason we decided as a species that we wanted to know every thought everyone we have ever known ever had. For some reason, we thought that if we were using our real identities, the bad guys would too. Besides! If you don't use your real name, how will people you know find you??

😑 How indeed. Suddenly, the focus of being online ceased being, "Be as anonymous as you can" and morphed into "people finding you is a good thing." Talk about a 180.

Are we surprised then, that the threat of being stalked and doxxed is so real and frightening?

We were told in the time of the telecommunications equivalent of the horse and cart that what is online is online forever. When did we stop reminding ourselves that? When did parents stop telling their kids about this? And it's all connected too, more so now than ever. We have too many things to login to to have a separate identity at every single one. We forget to disallow sites to collect and use our location data. We think "sure if someone knows this email address, they can use it to find me here."

What we should be thinking is, "Oh shit, if someone knows this email address they can use it to find me here 😳."

Back in the day, we guarded our fandom personas from our real lives, FIERCELY. Because, omg, if someone I know IRL finds my grocities, I will DIE and this is not an exaggeration. But also, Omg if n00beater69 finds me on my family MySpace, he'll tell my mom I rec'd lemons.

And no one wants their mom to know about the lemons.

We all lived two lives. And it was normal.

Now, it's not healthy to live in a constant state of paranoia and distrust and fear. But just because you're NOT paranoid doesn't mean a monster isn't waiting to eat your face.

All this to say, Auntie Pan has some well-intended advice based on a lot of experience.

Live two lives. It's okay. Protect yourselves and your families by being secretive and mysterious.

Use a pseudonym and don't give out your real name. I'd answer to Pan in public if someone called me that. I'd probably still look up if I heard someone call me by my first fandom alias.

Use a separate email address for your fandom activity. Do NOT use your school or work email for this. If masked marauders aren't watching you, your organization IS. This also puts your at greater risk of doxxing. (BTW, you should also know your organization's social media policy, because they still apply when you're off the clock or not in class.)

Check your privacy and security settings for ALL of your social media accounts. Tumblr, Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, YouTube, AO3, Pillowfort, freaking pornhub. Lock that shit down.

Use a VPN. Put one on your phone and your computers and your tablets.

And trust your gut. If someone is asking you a lot of personal questions, assume they're dangerous. That's not being rude, that's being safe. Auntie Pan says you can and SHOULD leave a situation if you feel uncomfortable.