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bluefox-den · 3 years

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Okay okay okay so I haven’t had the energy to really write for a while but I want to get the big reveal about the whole Stormheart family drama out there so I’m just gonna do bullet points and someday I’ll go back and write the whole thing up nicely. Starting from many years ago, with what the pack already knew:

Marion Stormheart’s first litter, with her mate Rowan, was quite big. The pack was excited to have so many new pups. However, they were born in early Autumn, not the best time to be raising pups that young.

Later in the season, Marion caught the influenza. She and her five pups were quarantined to the healer’s den. Rowan chose to stay with them. Marion recovered quickly, but several of the pups as well as Rowan all fell ill.

One by one, four of the pups died. There was nothing anyone could do to save them. Rowan held out for several months, but he too passed away from the influenza shortly before the surviving pup reached adolescence, dying alone without getting to know his daughter.

Marion named the pup North, for Rowan’s former surname Northwind. From that day on, Marion insisted that North follow in her father’s footsteps, replace his spot on the hunting team, and never do anything that Marion disapproved of. Naturally, this did not go over well.

North and Marion fought constantly, until North eventually ran away. She was found by Alma, the head scout at the time, who took her on as an apprentice and defended her from Marion. In retaliation, Marion cut North out of her life completely, ignoring her existence.

Marion eventually took a new mate, Night, and they had a litter of three pups together. North was not allowed to spend time with Night or meet the pups.

Two of the pups died under mysterious circumstances shortly after their birth. One was found by North, having been trampled by caribou quite far from camp, and the other was found with a bite wound appearing to be from another wolf. Marion accused North, and while there wasn’t enough proof to convince the pack to drive her off, she became an outcast.

The surviving pup was named Sortia, and Marion never seemed to leave her side. Sortia was rarely allowed out of the den as a pup, and Marion always seemed to treat her wonderfully when anyone else, especially North, was around, but it was clear to everyone that Marion was not a good mother.

Upon reaching adolescence, Marion did allow Sortia to choose her own path, perhaps in hope of avoiding another situation like what had happened with North. Sortia was apprenticed to the pack’s herbalist, and from that point on, avoided Marion, Night, and North.

Marion eventually passed away, dying alone after having driven off any of her former friends or family. It was a relief for the whole pack, really.

Night left shortly after his mate’s death. He was later found dead, appearing to have drowned in a stream at the pack’s border. Further examination revealed a bite wound in his throat.

North was absent from the camp for a period of time around the time of Night’s death, though this was not an unusual occurrence as she chose to avoid the pack often. She returned with a litter of her own, four healthy pups. Sortia, as the resident herbalist, was forced to finally face North in order to check on the pups. North’s first words to Sortia were “I did not kill your littermates”.

Shortly after, North was accused of murdering Night. She denied the accusations, and was once again permitted to stay in the pack, but her pups were taken to be raised by the pupsitters instead.

But here’s where things get interesting:

The reason North was accused of murdering those first two pups: She reported finding the body of the first one, which meant she was definitely at the scene of the crime at one point, and the other pup’s bite wound could have been from anyone but North had the clearest motive (jealousy about her mother having a second litter that was receiving better treatment).

However, it was Honey and Fisher who first noticed something was suspicious. As part of Fisher’s training to become leader, he visited several neighboring packs with Honey, one of which was near the scene of the first pup’s death. An older wolf in that pack mentioned recognizing the scent of the Lostwood pack from two wolves that had been there years before. From the descriptions she gave of their appearances, one sounded like North, and the other sounded like Marion, who she claimed she had seen carrying a pup.

Fisher mentioned this to Sortia, which got her wondering. Had Marion been the one to take her own pup so far from the den and leave it? Could she have set the pup down briefly to fight off a predator or something? But as a stalker, Marion would have been well aware of the signs that the location was one frequently traveled by caribou, and would be dangerous.

Breeze, a former loner who joined the pack shortly after the murders, mentioned seeing Marion heading back from that direction very early one morning, which would have been long before North was up and out of the den.

Marion was actually the wolf who led Breeze into the camp when she joined, having run into her not far away from the dens. This was on the same day that the second dead pup was discovered with the bite wound, found just outside of camp. Breeze was definitely not involved in the killing, as the white fur around her muzzle would have clearly shown any blood.

If this newly uncovered information is correct, it places Marion at or near the scene of both murders, around the time they happened.

Now, fast forward several years, to Night’s death. He was found dead in a stream, while North was absent from camp, though her absence could be explained by her leaving to have her pups away from the scrutiny of her packmates. However, the bite wound in Night’s neck and North’s history of potential murders made the pack suspicious.

The den that North gave birth in was found, not far from where Night’s body was. She had left the pack shortly before he did.

I still don’t have completely figured out HOW exactly all of this was solved by Sortia, but in conclusion:

The grief of losing most of her first mate and litter, and later losing North in a different way, made Marion extra determined to ensure that one pup in her second litter survived and didn’t leave her.

This drove Marion to murder two of her own pups, ensuring that the remaining one would receive all of the attention and care from both her and the pupsitters.

Afraid of what would happen if the pack found out, and that her new mate would leave her, she had to let someone else be blamed.

She took one pup far from the pack, leaving it on a path traveled frequently by large hooved prey, and then scared a herd in that direction. Her hope was that it would seem like a natural, unsurprising death, but the pack was suspicious. However, with her being the mother, no one suspected her, and it was easy to turn their suspicion towards North.

After a few days, when the pack was sufficiently suspicious of North, all Marion had to do was kill the other pup and leave it nearby. Since it was so close to the camp, it was hard to tell which scent on the pup’s body was the killer and which were just from wolves nearby, so no one noticed that North’s scent wasn’t particularly strong.

She then raised the remaining pup, Sortia, who was guaranteed to survive as the pack was now extra cautious and nearly everyone was keeping an eye on her. Night was never very involved as a father, and he and Marion didn’t truly love each other, but she had already lost one mate and she refused to let another leave.

No one in the pack would let North near Sortia, for fear that she would finish the job they thought she’d started, which worked out well for Marion as it prevented them from bonding, and Sortia from learning the truth.

Marion’s overprotectiveness and performative kindness eventually drove Sortia away from her, and Marion eventually died alone.

As for Night’s death, he and North left the pack around the same time, him leaving for good and North just leaving temporarily when she realized she was going to have pups. Just after the pups were born, they ran into each other. It did not go well.

Night found North’s temporary den while she was out hunting, and took the very young pups, in an attempt to get revenge for what he thought North had done to his own pups.

When North found them, he confronted her about the murders, lunging at her.

She tried to explain, but he would not accept that it was Marion that had killed them, and continued fighting her. He nearly managed to kill her, but she got her jaws around his throat and clamped down, killing him only to save herself and her pups.

She left his body in the stream, hoping that it and his dark fur would help to hide the bite marks and make it look like he had simply drowned.

The entire pack now knows the truth about what happened, and while North still doesn’t have a great relationship with any of them, she is no longer seen as a killer. Her daughter Raven has also been fully accepted into the pack.

#wolvden #the lostwood pack #Stormheart family drama #wrote this at midnight and did not proofread lol idk if it makes sense #but here ya go

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abraxos-is-toothless · 4 years

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The Beauty That Is She

Started this a few weeks back but never finished so I decided I would:) It will be in about 4/5 parts? Maybe a few more if I feel as though it needs it.

This will be about Fenrys and an Original character, but the character’s name came from the books:)

Full Masterlist.

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Fenrys was feeling the most relaxed today than he had in weeks, they had all been run ragged with meeting after meeting, everyone wanting to see his Queen about requests for this and requests for that. He loved his Queen he truly did, she’d saved his life. She gave him a home and a family. But damn it if he didn’t want to strangle her sometimes for making him sit through the boring shit every day. Fenrys was glad they finally had a short break from it all since today it was the twins’ twentieth year of life, and he had only been given one order from Rowan this morning. Search all the rutting nooks and crannies of the castle to find his mischievous son. Connall –Aelin had asked him the day their son was born if he’d allow her to name him after his brother, he’d cried (not that he would ever admit that) and said he’d be honoured- was only seventeen and looked exactly like his father but had the same fiery and devious personality as his mother. They could often be seen plotting together in the corner and then be a new plank played on his elder sisters a few days later. The twins –Nehemia and Evalin- always got revenge after going to their father for new ideas.

Connall was meant to be testing his magic with Rowan while the girls trained with their Uncle Aedion, however he would never go the first time you asked and eventually you would have to drag him out to the courtyard, but luckily for Fenrys he knew all of the boys hiding spots. He found him sitting in front of the window of the corridor leading to the Great Hall with his nose buried in a book; Dorian brought him a new one every time he had to visit for boring royal business. “Con? You know it’s your turn to train with your father, the sooner you do it the sooner you can go back to your books.” Once those pine green eyes met his gaze and the boy let out a very audible sigh he chuckled lightly- he was too much like his mother for his own good.

“I’ll never be able to live up to the power he holds so what does it matter if I train or not?”

They had this argument every time and Fenrys’ answer was always the same, “It doesn’t matter if you hold the same power that Rowan does, your parents just want you to learn so you have multiple things to fall back on if you ever get put into harm's way.” Con finally put his book down and agreed to go train as long as he would come and help him too. He said yes, as he always had to each of the kids since the day they were born.

Once they had both stepped out into the courtyard you could hear Aedion’s deep laughter and a war cry from one of the girls from not being able to get the upper hand on him yet. As they got closer Fenrys noticed that his Queen was sitting up in one of the trees, smirking as she watched her girls trying to figure out where they were going wrong. Rowan was stood off to the side with his arms crossed over his chest and a calculating look on his face, and Lysandra was reprimanding her husband whilst rubbing a hand across her swollen belly asking him to ease up on them for a few minutes and as for the girls, they were throwing insults back and forth blaming each other for their screw up. Nehemia was her mother through and through. Looked like her, sassed like her and had even inherited the power of fire. Not a lot of course, but she and Aelin trained with it as much as they could, the Queen knowing from experience what happens when you don’t. Evalin was different from any of them. She looked like Rowan, most likely because of the hair, but she had Aelin’s eyes. Her powers were extraordinary too, being able to bring forth her father's ice and wind, yet she too could master fire.

Rowan had been almost out of his wits when they had realised what she could do, having witnessed Aelin’s power almost destroy her several times. It had taken Lorcan and himself what had felt like days to reassure him that she would be fine, that all three of them would teach her how to stay in control and Aelin would teach her how to disperse little increments, as not to be overloaded by it.

“Rowan, I’ve found your devil spawn, he’s all yours.” With a wink at the boy in question he shoved him by the shoulder towards the magic lecture that awaited him and walked over to lean against the tree that Aelin was currently sat in. Looking up at her he asked “How’re they doing today?” Dragging her eyes from the girls to focus on him she said, “Mia just wants to throw herself head first into the chaos but Lin keeps trying to tell her about the strategies that you taught her.” He grinned then and turned back towards the sparring blondes muttering ‘That’s my girl.’ Eva -the name only he was allowed to call her; she said it was because people always chose ‘Lin’ or ‘Eve’ but he was the first to use ‘Eva’- had always been the sensible one, using that beautiful brain of hers constantly to break down each sparring scenario they were given and trying to find the weak spots of each opponent she was given. Mia on the other hand had inherited her mother’s stubbornness and seemed to favour the teachings of Lorcan whenever he came for training; kill first and ask questions later. Gods, someone needed to start keeping a closer eye on the two of them on Lorcan’s day for lessons. Maybe Elide could chaperone for a change. Lady Lochan despised watching her husband train, so she always says, yet the two would disappear the minute he stopped. But she was the only one that was able to keep him in check, so he would suffer with the scent of the two of them, if only to stop Mia from becoming a terrifying mix of Death and Fire.

After a few hours had passed, Fenrys was watching Connall throw shard after shard of ice for his father to dodge when Eva caught his eye from across the yard and he watched her pull a manoeuvre he’d taught her a few days ago on a clueless Aedion, making him laugh. She turned towards him then, but he froze suddenly as turquoise eyes locked with his. There was a sudden tug on his soul that left him breathless and made his senses feel heightened. She had felt it too it seemed because her sword arm had fallen limp at her side, however the distraction cost her, when Aedion’s blade managed to slice across Eva’s shoulder. He watched her cry out and drop to her knees yet he couldn’t hear anything past the blood rushing in his ears but from the vibrations in his chest he knew he was growling. All eyes were flicking between the wounded female on the floor and him; Rowan had stopped just short of his daughter when he heard Fenrys. He couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that Eva was hurt and bleeding and that there was a voice in the back of his head that would not stop shouting at him, over and over.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Of all the people fate had to choose for him, it gave him someone that was very much off limits. Rowan fucking Whitehorn’s daughter. Oh he was so very, very dead. Everything had come back to him now and he could still hear himself growling when he said “Whitehorn. Do. Not. Move.” The threat was stupid of course because that was her god’s damned father, but she was hurt, she was bleeding and Rowan was incredibly close to her and nearly cutting her from his line of sight.

He knew that Rowan knew then, when he caught him scenting the air and turned to look at him but simply stated, “Do not assume to think you have some claim on her because of what has just been revealed, she hasn’t even accepted you yet. She has no idea what this means.”

Aelin had come down from the tree now and was steadily walking towards them, eyes only for her daughter. Eva looked to her mother when she was close enough to kneel at her side and, voice laced with confusion, asking, “What’s happening? What haven’t I accepted? I don’t understand.” Every instinct was screaming at him to go to her, to soothe her and tell her everything was going to be alright, however, as he dared to lift his foot to do just that, Rowan was blocking his path in an instant.

“Please. Please just let me go to her. You know how this feels, just. Please.” There was a hand placed on his shoulder then, as a comfort or a restraint he wasn’t sure.

“Not until she understands.”

Connall was now on the ground by his sister helping her to heal faster with his magic. Mia was looking at them all with confusion and curiosity. Aedion and Lys seemed to be torn between leaving to give them privacy and staying to provide some sort of back up just in case. Not they needed to; he’d never, ever, put her in danger.

“Lin,” Aelin was saying, “I need you to listen to me carefully okay?” A nod for her mother but her eyes were focused on him. “Do you remember the story I told you about when Manon and I fought?”

“You said that when you were trying to get away again, Manon’s friend Asterin shot an arrow that was aimed for you but daddy jumped in front of it.” Eva’s words were a little slow and shaky, probably trying to recall as much of the story as she could. He tried taking another step, growling again when Rowan tightened the grip on his shoulder. He watched as her eyes went wide, and there was a slight twitch of her hand, as if she too wanted to reach out for him.

“And then what did I tell you about that moment?”

Eva’s brows furrowed and he wanted to press his thumb into the spot, smoothing it away. She was beautiful, truly, no matter what she was doing and he wanted to tell her, wanted to breathe the words against her lips, neck, her stomach, and then lower. The last few years, he hadn’t stopped noticing her beauty, and it was difficult at first. She had always been Rowan’s daughter but now, now he didn’t care. Now he just wanted, wanted, wanted.

“You said that you had screamed because in that moment you had felt...you had...he was...” Her eyes widened and her head whipped towards her mother, her breathing ragged and the scent of her filling the air. She was a mix of pine and jasmine, a mix of her parents, and it was the most intoxicating scent. He breathed in deeply as his eyes fluttered for a moment, letting it calm him.

Suddenly, Eva was standing, legs a little wobbly as she walked over to him and tapping Rowan’s arm, silently asking him to move. His brother hesitated but relented and stepped back, taking Aelin’s hand in his own as they watched their daughter. She was right in front of him now, head tilted back to actually look at him and that voice in his mind returned.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His breath caught in his throat when she lifted one of her hands and stroked from his temple to his jaw, then cupping his cheek gently in her palm. Fenrys let out and unsteady breath and his heart soared when she whispered into the space between them;

“You’re my mate.”

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I’ll probably make a little personality thing on each of the kids at some point, just to go into more depth. If you want to be in the tags for this then just let me know!!:))

Tags: @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares @fancyclodpaintercookie @empress-sei @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @tswaney17 @queen-of-glass @thesirenwashere @awkward-avocado-s @b00kworm @http-itsrebecca @eatmysandwiches @poisonous00 @flowersinvegas @julemmaes @mu-si-ca-l @spyofthenightcourt @sis-it-dont-add-up @mad-madeline-ace @df3ndyr @jesstargaryenqueen @notyournymphetish @nightcourtcinnamonroll @acourtofmarauders @rhyswhitethorn @booknerdproblems

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alice-beaumont-ravenclaw · 4 years

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CMDN

A/N #1: So I got a request on my main blog to write a fic using “Fluff #12 and Misc #16 (or both!!)” from this list by @honeyboychangbin a week or two ago. Now, writing a regular fic takes time (way more time than a musical fic), and I obviously had to come up with something using one or both of those sentence starters. I went for both. This fic is actually actually part of my “A Week at Penny’s” series (Part 1 | Part 2). Also, two songs kinda inspired me while I was writing: “LDN” by Lily Allen and “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” by Cyndi Lauper.

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After the traumatic night they had experienced, Alice, Rowan, and Penny woke up with bags under their eyes. Ben and Tonks were already with the rest of Penny’s family eating breakfast.

“Took you long enough to wake up,” said Tonks between two bites of her toast.

“Wonder why,” replied Penny as she glared at Tonks along with the other two girls.

“Oh… Right…” replied Tonks, flustered, as she remembered what had happened the previous night.

“I had a very weird dream last night,” said Ben, eating his cereal, as the other girls took their seat around the table. “Filch had the body of a teenage girl…”

“Keep telling yourself it was a dream,” muttered Penny, still glaring at Tonks, who had taken a page from the newspaper to hide behind.

“What?” asked Ben, turning to Penny.

“Nothing, nothing,” said Alice before Penny could reply. “Anyway, what are the plans for today?”

“I don’t know… Maybe we could visit a neighbourhood in London?” suggested Penny.

“You don’t say! I thought we would visit a neighbourhood in Glasgow,” said Tonks, her mouth full of bread and jam.

“You could use the Floo powder if you want to,” offered Penny’s mother.

“It’s ok, Mum. Nymphadora was just being sarcastic,” said Penny, smirking as she noticed Tonks scowling.

“Ok, dear. Well, I’m off to do some shopping with Beatrice. See you this evening,” said Penny’s mother as she left the flat with Beatrice.

“So, where should we go?” asked Penny.

“What about the British Museum?” suggested Rowan. “I’ve always wanted to see the Rosetta Stone!”

“Oh, please, no! Not a stuffy museum. We do enough learning during our time at Hogwarts, I just want to have some fun during the summer!” exclaimed Tonks.

“Come on, Rowan, there’s gotta be a neighbourhood in London you want to see?” asked Alice to her best friend. “And don’t say the neighbourhood of the British Museum,” added Alice as she noticed Rowan was about to say something before closing her mouth again.

“What about Camden? I heard it’s really edgy and there are loads of vintage clothes available that are dirt cheap!” suggested Tonks.

“Camden? I don’t know… Not really the safest area in London,” replied Ben.

“Camden? The British Museum is in the Borough of Camden,” chimed in Rowan.

“Yeah, but I think Tonks meant Camden Town, not the entire borough. The British Museum is in Bloomsbury,” explained Alice. “I think Camden Town would be fun. It would give me a reason to wear the Doc Martens Andre gave me for my birthday. I can’t really see myself walking around Chelsea with them.”

“But I heard there are drug dealers hanging outside the station,” said Ben.

“Ben, they won’t force you to buy anything, if they approach you at all,” reassured Penny, patting his hand.

“Not to mention my pink hair will fit right in,” chimed in Tonks, tousling her hair.

“I don’t know…” said Rowan, rubbing her arm as she looked away, worried.

“Awww, come on, Rowan. There are second-hand bookstalls…” said Alice, wiggling her eyebrows.

Rowan’s eyes lit up at the mention of books. “Really? Why didn’t you say that sooner?”

Alice shrugged before looking at all her friends. “So, what do you guys say? Are you ready for a fun day in Camden Town?”

Everyone slowly turned to look at Ben, who looked defeated. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice…”

“That’s the spirit,” exclaimed Tonks, slapping Ben on the back.

Once they were done eating breakfast, the girls went back to Penny’s room to get ready while Ben headed to the bathroom. Rowan and Ben were the first two ready and they waited for the others in the living room.

“What is taking so long?” asked Ben, looking at his watch.

“Well, they were styling Alice’s hair into two buns at the top of her head before I came here, and I did hear Tonks say something about makeup, though Alice didn’t seem too keen…” started saying Rowan before being interrupted by a scream coming from Penny’s bedroom.

“YOU SAID TO BE HONEST! STOP HITTING ME!” they heard Tonks shouting.

Penny popped her head in the living room, her hair in a high half ponytail, looking slightly embarrassed. “Won’t be much longer now. Just need to remove the makeup from Alice’s face…” As she walked away, Rowan heard her mumbling under her breath: “Tonks will definitely not become a makeup artist…”

Ten minutes later, the three girls arrived in the living room, all dressed up for Camden. Penny was wearing a denim miniskirt, with an off-the-shoulder neon top, paired with loose leg warmers and white sneakers. Tonks’ look was going for punk. She was wearing a Queens t-shirt, ripped denim shorts, fishnet stockings, and heavy-duty boots. She was also sporting a heavy dose of dark eyeshadow and black eyeliner. As for Alice, she was wearing a Beatles t-shirt, a slightly ripped pair of denim shorts, her Doc Marten boots in which Minnie Mouse socks were peeking out of. She also had a black and blue oversized checked flannel shirt tied around her waist.

“What the… Tonks, are you going to a costume party?” asked Rowan, staring at her friend.

“What? No! I just want to look like someone who hangs out in Camden all the time.”

“You look more like a tourist trying to pass off as a local,” pointed out Alice.

“And you look like a Sloane Ranger trying to pass off as edgy,” retorted Tonks.

“Ok, you two, we don’t need another argument like with Mario and Cluedo. Let’s get a move on, otherwise, we’ll be in Camden next year,” said Penny as she pushed Alice and Tonks toward the door, followed by Rowan and Ben.

They headed toward Highgate Station. As they waited for the tube on the platform, Tonks took out a little mirror from her pocket and started to frown as she looked at her reflection.

“I think I overdid it on the eyeshadow,” said Tonks.

“You think?” replied Penny, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s not the only thing you overdid,” muttered Alice as she handed Tonks a tissue.

“Thanks,” grumbled Tonks, taking the tissue and trying to rub off the eyeshadow. Unfortunately, she handed up looking more like a raccoon than anything else. “Ugh! If only I could use Scourgify!”

“We are not allowed to use magic outside of school. Remember, we have the Trace,” reminded Rowan.

“More like the Curse if you ask me,” grumbled Tonks as Alice handed her a pair of sunglasses.

“I’m sure there’s a Boots in Camden where we can get our hands on some make-up remover,” said Alice as the train arrived.

“People keep make-up remover in their boots?” asked Tonks, but no one heard her due to the train.

They embarked on the train, and, four stations and some escalators later, found themselves outside Camden Town Station.

“So… Do I ask some random person wearing boots for some makeup remover?” asked Tonks looking around at the passersby.

“What? No! Boots is the name of a store! Really, Tonks, do you think Muggles keep various products in their boots,” said Penny, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t know! I literally just saw one take out a little bag of pills from his boots and handing it to someone,” said Tonks, pointing toward a shady looking man near the station’s entrance.

“Eeek! Drug dealer!” exclaimed Ben before running toward the Boots.

“Tonks! Don’t point!” whispered Alice as she pulled Tonks’ arm down. As she glanced behind her, she noticed the strange man staring at them. “Ok. Everyone, just act normal and let’s walk quickly to Boots.”

Once inside Boots, Alice went to buy makeup remover while Penny was busy reassuring Ben and admonishing Tonks for her behaviour.

“It’s not that it’s a particularly dangerous neighbourhood, but please don’t point at people doing strange stuff. They can be quite unpredictable.”

“I knew we should have gone to the British Museum,” grumbled Rowan.

“It would be much safer,” agreed Ben.

“Penny already said it. Camden isn’t dangerous, but, like anywhere else in London, there are some unsavoury characters that are better left unprovoked,” explained Alice as she was putting her wallet back in her bag. “Now, let’s go out and enjoy our day, okay?” she added as she poured some make-up remover on a tissue and started getting the makeup off of Tonks’ eyes.

Once Tonks didn’t look like a raccoon anymore, they made their way toward Camden Market. Rowan and Alice stopped at a secondhand bookstall, while Tonks made a beeline to a vintage clothing store. Penny looked at the various crafts being sold while Ben stayed close to her. Eventually, they all joined up at the store where Tonks was, as she was still busy trying on clothes. The store’s employee seemed vaguely annoyed by all the clothes piling up in front of her fitting room.

“He’s so gorgeous, I think I’m gonna faint,” whispered Penny to Alice as she looked at the employee with a smile.

“Really?” replied Alice, only briefly glancing at him as she kept looking at clothes flying out of Tonks’ fitting room.

“Too bad there aren’t any guys like that at Hogwarts,” whispered Penny with a gleam in her eyes.

“That’s because they graduated. That guy is old. He’s probably, like, 20?” said Alice before returning her attention to Tonks. “Tonks! Are you going to choose something or are you trying to try every piece of clothing in the store?”

“Oh! I already picked what I want to buy for myself. Now, I’m trying to find some clothes that will traumatize Andre. His reactions anytime someone wears something he considers unfashionable are priceless!” explained Tonks, popping her head from behind the curtain.

Alice looked at her for a moment, remembering all the times Andre had judged her outfits, including the time he threw the September issue of Vogue at her and it landed on her head. “Take your time.”

With that, Tonks took twenty more minutes of trying on clothes, before making her final selection and buying it. Alice and Penny also convinced Ben to buy a t-shirt that looked good on him and Rowan had gone and bought a bagful of books. They then headed off to eat lunch at a fish and chip shop.

After lunch, they explored a bit more of the market and walked down Chalk Farm Road. Alice had placed some of the books Rowan had bought in her Boots bag as it was getting a bit heavy for Rowan to carry everything she had bought. Penny kept an eye on Ben who was very far from his comfort zone. The people he saw in Camden were miles away from what he was used to seeing in his town. Hairs of multiple colours, clothes with holes in them, ostentatious makeup, piercings in places other than ears, tattoos. Tonks looked perfectly normal compared to everything he was seeing. To the local crowd of Camden, Tonks did look like a tourist trying to pass off as local, just like Alice had said. As for Alice, Tonks was right. She mostly looked like a well-to-do girl having a slightly rebellious phase. Unfortunately, said phase wasn’t rebellious enough to let Tonks get a tattoo, as Rowan witnessed Alice dragging Tonks out of a tattoo parlour while she waited for Penny outside a vintage store.

“Awww, come on! I would look so cool with a tattoo!” complained Tonks as Alice pulled her out by the collar.

“You are 14, Nymphadora!”

“Don’t call me that! And I’m sure Tulip would approve!”

“Yeah, because little Miss Dungbomb is a paragon of reasonability… Anyway, can’t you make a tattoo appear on yourself with your whole Metamorphmagus abilities?”

Tonks stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Alice, blinking. Alice stared back for a moment before her eyes widened just as a smile was spreading across Tonks’ face.

“Oh no…”

“Thanks, mate! I never thought of that!” exclaimed Tonks, as she stared at her arm and started to concentrate.

“Wait! Not here! Muggles could see you,” whispered Alice between her clenched teeth as she grabbed Tonks forearm and dragged her inside the vintage store where Penny was.

“Please don’t tell me she plans on buying more clothes,” said Penny as she saw Tonks enter.

“No, I had to get her away from prying eyes while she was trying to give herself a tattoo,” said Alice loud enough for the store clerk to hear. She stared at her. She stared back, suddenly realizing how odd it sounded. “With a Sharpie,” added Alice before letting out a nervous laugh.

The clerk just raised an eyebrow before returning to what she was doing.

“That was a closed one… But how did she get the idea?” whispered Penny.

“Well…” Alice started, looking away.

“Alice…” said Penny, pursing her lips.

“I might have pointed out she didn’t need to go to a tattoo parlour to get a tattoo, her being a Metamorphmagus and all,” whispered Alice.

“Oh, Alice…” started saying Penny, pinching the bridge of her nose, before being interrupted by Tonks who was proudly showing her right wrist.

“Look! I gave myself a tattoo!” she exclaimed, resulting in the store clerk to stare at them again.

“What the… A duck?!” said Alice, too startled to notice the clerk staring.

“Why would you give yourself a duck?” asked Penny, also staring.

“I don’t know… It’s the first thing that came to mind…” grumbled Tonks.

“Woah! You got mad skills with a Sharpie!” exclaimed the store clerk as she looked over Penny’s shoulder.

“GAH!” let out Alice, startled. Merlin, they would be sent to Azkaban for breaking the Statute of Secrecy just because Tonks gave herself a duck tattoo!

“A Sharpie?” asked Tonks, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh. Ummmm… You know, a permanent marker. Sorry, she’s really bad with brand names. Now, Alice, why don’t you take Tonks outside where Rowan is, while I pay for this shirt,” said Penny as she pushed her two friends towards the exit.

“Don’t forget your friend who’s hiding in the fitting room,” said the clerk, pointing at the closed fitting room from which you could see Ben’s sneakers peeking out from under the curtain.

A few moments later, Penny exited the store, holding a small bag as well as Ben’s arm.

“Ok, I think we can call it a day because I don’t think Ben can last any longer,” said Penny, glancing at Ben’s pale face.

“Sounds good to me,” said Alice, letting out a sigh of relief. Watching over Tonks in the Muggle world could be a handful.

They made their way back to Camden Town Station, where the drug dealer from earlier still was. As they passed him, they all avoided eye contact, except for Tonks, who waved at him, showing off her duck tattoo in the process. Once inside the station, they made their way to the platform but had to stop Ben from getting on a train heading in the wrong direction, as he was in such a hurry to leave Camden, he didn’t notice it was heading toward Edgware instead of High Barnet.

When they finally returned to Penny’s flat, Penny and Alice let themselves fall on the couch, looking tired. As Rowan went to drop her books in the bedroom, and Tonks and Ben settled down with Alice and Penny, Penny’s mother inquired about their day as she was preparing dinner in the kitchen. The two London natives looked at each other before saying: “It was… interesting.”

“I got a duck tattoo!” exclaimed Tonks.

Penny’s father looked up from his newspaper in astonishment, staring straight at the tattoo.

---------

A/N #2: First, here’s Alice’s outfit. Second, I feel like the quality of this fic is a bit of a rollercoaster. There were moments where I would be inspired and then, nothing, but the fic was far from being finished. Writing about wizards in the Muggle world is fun, but that story was coming to me in blurbs and music sequences. Oh, and this takes place in during the summer before their 4th year, hence why Ben is scared of everything.

#hphm fanfic #hogwarts mystery fanfic #hphm mc #hogwarts mystery mc #jacob’s sibling #alice beaumont #penny haywood #rowan khanna #nymphadora tonks #ben copper #beatrice haywood #request #camden #london

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wandsandrings · 3 years

Text

HISTORY [KACE PETERSON]

[ Note: Major canon-divergence in year 6. ]

Founders’ Time:

> In the year 993, a brother known as Ruairidh Ìomharach (Roderic Ivory), a first-generation Legilimen, and his younger sister, Èibhlin Ìomharach (Evelyn Ivory), a first-generation Seer, were among the first ever students to attend Hogwarts. The two siblings were taught by all the founders during their time there. They then learned of the Cursed Vaults, and the treasure inside of it.

> The two siblings, blinded by the prospect of mystery, adventure and reward, began to look for the vaults. It was during this time where something began to tamper with the vaults, but the siblings, along with their friends, managed to close the vaults and break the curses placed upon the school.

> However, when the siblings had found the fifth vault, a gigantic monster was released unto the school. It ravaged Hogwarts, seeping the vitality from students and faculty. The siblings, however, learned that they could seal the monster inside of the vault’s pillar, and after a gruelling battle, they did just that. However, the monster was enraged, and placed a curse on the two siblings. The curse made it impossible for the siblings to move on when they died, and forced them to be reborn in every century as completely new people and lock away their memories every time they died. Eventually, after 9 other lives after theirs, Roderic and Evelyn were reborn as Jacob Peterson and Kace Peterson.

Pre Hogwarts:

> When Kace was 6, his brother, Jacob, started Hogwarts. Kace missed his brother, as the two were very close. However, this is the age Kay met some other magical kids to befriend.

> When Kace was 9, though, Jacob became cold and distant towards his family, including his little brother. He ended up running away when Kace was 10.

> Shortly after Jacob running away, Kay lost all of his friends due to the rumours surrounding the family. Kay was so sad he barely went outside and ate his sorrows away.

> Kay got his acceptance letter, though, and later met future housemate and best friend Rowan Khanna.

Years 1 - 5 are very similar to canon-events with minor or moderate canon-divergence, listed below:

> Kay meets and befriends Ben Copper in the Hogwarts Express. (Year 1)

> Kay meets and befriends Penny Haywood, Nymphadora Tonks and Diego Caplan at the sorting ceremony and feast. (Year 1)

> Kay has a vision of a mysterious, unknown voice from a woman. (Year 1)

> Rowan gives Kay a matching friendship ring with the year they met and each other’s name on each other’s rings to commemorate their friendship. (Year 2)

> He takes Ben, Bill and Rowan into the vault. (Year 2)

> Kay’s boggart is Death-Eater Jacob. (Year 3)

> Kay finds out he is a Seer. (Year 5)

> He has a vision of the dragon in the vault and his arm being coated in fire. (Year 5)

> He gets into the vault after remembering the past when he opened the vault as Evelyn. He didn’t know it was the past, however. (Year 5)

6th Year:

> Kay’s visions start becoming more vivid and more common.

> At some point, Kay has a vision of Rowan being struck down in the Forbidden Forest. He starts deliberately avoiding Rowan, going as far as to try and sabotage their own friendship so Rowan no longer wants to talk to him. However, he didn’t succeed, as Rowan still followed him into the Forbidden Forest.

> Rowan gets struck with a lethal spell from Rakepick. However, he is saved, but falls into a coma. Kay feels extremely guilty and spends every day in the Hospital Wing.

> At some point, he has an argument with Dumbledore and tries to run away. However, Talbott stops him and convinces Kay to stay at Hogwarts.

> Kay begins to meet up with Jacob more and more, both to re-connect with him and learn from him.

> At some point, Rowan woke up. He confessed that he heard Kace apologise to him, and that he accepts and reveals that he knew what Kace’s goal and his fate were, but he says he just couldn’t bear the feeling of not knowing if his best friend’s death was going to be announced if he didn’t follow Kace. Nevertheless, they became fast friends again, and even found out about their mutual crush, but for their sake, decided to wait until the vaults were dealt with and until they had more time to start a proper relationship.

> Kay, Jacob, Merula, and Ben go into the lake vault whilst Diego, Chiara, Talbott, Badeea, Tonks, Tulip, Barnaby and Rowan stay outside of the lake making sure that R doesn’t try to get into the lake. However, the four are attacked by Rakepick who was already at the vault before their exit caves in. They are unable to disparate due to being too close to Hogwarts.

> Here, the group find a mirror at one end of the vault, with the rim having Old English carved into it. Kay recognises some words from the mirror, but doesn’t know why or how. He suddenly feels dizzy and sick, like his brain was tumbling down a mountain. After composing himself, though, he tells the others that the mirror only shows the truth with it’s favourite reflections. Merula and Ben note that they cannot see themselves in the mirror, and it only reflects exactly what is around them. This is when Jacob and Kace see that they also cannot see themselves, but they can see that the reflection of their surroundings is different.

> The two try to figure out just what is going on before Jacob falls through the mirror. Kace freaks out and tries to follow his brother, and he, too, falls through into the mirror’s world. They find out, however, Merula or Ben cannot follow them.

> There, they find a small book upon the fine silk, and looking beyond the altar, they can see the chains and lock on the large, cathedral-like doors that was in their world was in much better shape. This seems to be the vault back when it was recently made.

> The two brothers retrieve the book before they return to their world through the mirror. The four find their way out of the vault through a secret passage-way they manage to find with Aparecium. They end up at the boat-house again.

> The four explain what happened in the vault before they open the book. Inside, there is a plethora of information about the vaults, such as speculations when they were built, why the curses existed, what the purpose of them was, and more. It seemed to be a diary of sorts, which belonged to Roderic Ivory and Evelyn Ivory, and the diary then talked about the sunken vault’s monster. The diary spoke of how Roderic and Evelyn used the vault to seal the monster away, but they were then cursed by the monster to be reborn and have their memories locked away. Then it spoke about their precautions for the future, such as how they had made a lock only opened by an enchanted sword, but thought this book was way too dangerous, so they made a magic mirror that would allow only them entrance into its world before sealing the book away there.

> The two brothers were extremely confused by this, since they were able to go into the mirror, before they realised that the mirror responds to one’s soul, not their physical reflection. They further realised that, as unlikely as it is, they are the siblings of the diary. It explained why they were a Legilimen and Seer without there ever having been one in the family, why they could remember words from very old or forgotten languages, why they were always called wise as children... and why only they could get into the vaults. This obviously shook them up, but they decided they didn’t have time to talk about it. Jacob entrusted Kace with the book, and they enchanted it so only they could open the book and read what’s inside, before the Circle of Khanna and Jacob parted ways.

7th Year:

[ Note that most of this is TBA, since year 7 has not released yet. ]

> At some point during the year, Jacob and Kace go search for the sword from the diary. However, when they retrieve the sword, it got stolen by R and taken back to the lake to open the vault. Once the brothers returned, however, the monster was already freed and was proceeding towards the school. The two brothers go to find the sword and find that the whole vault has been destroyed and submerged. They manage to find the sword, which Jacob wields before they return to Hogwarts to fight the beast.

> During the fight, Jacob is injured heavily, leaving Kace to finish fighting the monster. Kay grabs the sword before he and the Circle Of Khanna manage to slow down the monster enough for him to kill it. The monster erupts into light, blinding everyone for a few seconds, and Kay is found on the ground, the sword plunged into the dirt.

> Kay wakes up with Jacob in limbo. There, they meet a woman with dark skin and hair. She introduces herself as Cedar, and explains that the two siblings are in limbo because their soul is no longer forced to be reborn over and over, and that the curse placed on them was broken, and so was the one placed on Hogwarts. When asked why she knows this and how she knows them, she responds that she made a promise to Evelyn to watch over her and Roderic’s lives, so she can always answer any questions that will one day come her way. She then gives them the choice to move on or to continue living. The two brothers choose to continue living.

> They wake up in the training grounds surrounded by the Circle Of Khanna and the rest of Hogwarts. The brothers announce that the curses have been broken, and the monster was dead. Everyone cheers and there is a lot of celebrations.

> Over the rest of the year, the brothers and the Circle of Khanna make headlines in the papers, receive awards from the Ministry and even get their own chocolate frog cards for their bravery, heroism and legendary tale. Kay completes his NEWTs and graduates Hogwarts, and Jacob moves away to continue being a Curse-Breaker in other countries. Kay and Rowan officially begin a relationship during this time.

Post-Graduation:

> After graduating, Kay comes to work in The Three Broomsticks as a server and, later, a cook. He also purchases a cottage in Hogsmeade. Rowan later comes to live with him in 1993.

Order of the Phoenix / 2nd Wizarding War:

> In 1995, Kay leaves The Three Broomsticks to help his mother and father make their way to America to escape the surge of Death-Eaters. He then moves to Khanna Farms to stay with Rowan, who moved back to be with his family.

> Kay meets up with his brother, Jacob, who has decided to come back and fight when he heard of a possible war.

> Kay proposes to Rowan in 1996, who accepts his proposal. The two get married without having an official wedding due to the war.

> He, Rowan and Jacob all fought in the Battle Of Hogwarts and survived.

Post-War:

> After the war, Rowan and Kace go back to live in Hogsmeade while helping to rebuild Hogwarts. During this time, Rowan takes up the position for H.o.M. teacher when Hogwarts re-opens in September.

> They find out of a Muggleborn boy whose family had been killed by muggles and whose magic was making it hard for him to be adopted. The two apply to adopt the boy, called Maple, and meet him at the orphanage with some Ministry obliviators, who, after Maple is adopted, make the workers at the children’s home forget he ever existed and erased his records form the Muggle orphanage to protect the statute of secrecy.

> The family slowly build up a bond between themselves, even adopting a stray crup for Maple, and soon they become close. This is when Kay realises he wants to devote himself to make sure that Maple doesn’t end up having a life of obsession like he did, which lead to him lacking a good school-life to look back on.

> When Maple is set to become a student in 2000, Kay applies to be a D.A.D.A. teacher and gets the job, so he can teach students how to defend themselves in various situations, using experiences from his past. He is known as a strict, no-nonsense teacher, who is also very respectable and knowledgeable.

Old Age & Death:

...

#kay peterson

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fiinalgiirls · 4 years

Text

GENERAL INFORMATION.

FULL NAME - genevieve sloane channing NICKNAMES - neve GENDER / PRONOUNS - she/her DATE OF BIRTH - february 12, 1988 PLACE OF BIRTH - portland, oregon CITIZENSHIP / ETHNICITY - united states american; irish, scottish, welsh RELIGION - atheist / agnostic SOCIOECONOMIC STATUS / POLITICAL AFFILIATION - grew up very low socioeconomic status in ne portland, before the gentrification, but is now considered middle class due to her nurse’s salary. she’s liberal. MARITAL STATUS - single ( previously engaged ). SEXUAL & ROMANTIC ORIENTATION - bisexual, leaning more towards an attraction to men. EDUCATION / OCCUPATION - bachelor’s of science in nursing; emergency nurse LANGUAGES - english, spanish, and a few small phrases pertaining to medical emergencies in vietnamese and russian.

FAMILY INFORMATION.

PARENTS - doug and paula channing, both deceased. SIBLINGS - none OFFSPRING - none PETS / OTHER - robocop ( a black and white siberian husky ). i’d also like her to get a cat at some point ! give me this plot point !! NOTABLE EXTENDED FAMILY - none

PHYSICAL INFORMATION.

FACECLAIM - adelaide kane HAIR COLOR / EYE COLOR - brown / brown HEIGHT / BUILD - 5′3″ / slight, athletic TATTOOS / PIERCINGS - nostril piercing, small tattoo on anterior right forearm. DISTINGUISHABLE FEATURES - a scar above her left ear that goes into her hairline approximately three inches, bold, full brows. freckles. usually has bruised knees.

MEDICAL INFORMATION.

MEDICAL HISTORY - laceration to left temporoparietal area, sprained ankle, fractured collar bone, well-controlled asthma. KNOWN ALLERGIES - penicillin, watermelon VISUAL IMPAIRMENT / HEARING IMPAIRMENT - nearsighted, but usually uses contacts; tinnitus. NICOTINE USE / DRUG USE / ALCOHOL USE - occasional alcohol use, former smoker ( has had an errant cigarette on occasion ), drug use as a teenager.

PERSONALITY.

TRAITS - compassionate, resilient, tenacious ; self-righteous, cynical, aloof TROPES - nerves of steel, canine companion, good is not soft, deadpan snarker. TEMPERAMENT - melancholic ALIGNMENT - chaotic good CELTIC TREE ZODIAC - rowan, the thinker MBTI - infj HOGWARTS HOUSE - ravenclaw VICE / VIRTUE - pride ; liberality LIKES / DISLIKES: animals, reading, running and weight lifting, not having to share her popcorn, take-out, breakfast for dinner, leather / denim jackets, white sneakers, fresh cut flowers, solitude, people who think about others, / medical dramas, arrogance, science deniers, bok choy, people who talk to her at the gym or when she has headphones on, movie remakes, passive aggression. QUOTE: ❝take a body, dump it, drive. take a body, maybe your own, and dump it gently. all your dead, unfinished selves and dump them gently. take only what you need. ❞

FAVORITES.

FOOD - curry. DRINK - coffee. PIZZA TOPPING - pineapple ( yes, she’s that bitch ), but with olives, mushrooms, tomatoes, and tabasco. COLOR - earth tones, grey, black and white. MUSIC - synth, hip hop, indie. BOOKS - horror, true crime, historical philosophy of science and medicine. MOVIES - the thing, nightbreed, notorious CURSE WORD - fuck, goddamn it. SCENTS - lavender, vanilla, chocolate.

BIOGRAPHY,

trigger/content warnings: murder, death, graphic violence, mental health, postpartum depression, suicide, cancer, drug mention, parent death, medical, euthanasia mention, stalking, guns

THE FOG CREEPS IN ; GIRLHOOD IS A GRAVEYARD

genevieve channing is born on a cold, grey february sometime around midnight to douglas and paula channing while the heavy oregon fog kisses the modest concrete jungle of portland oregon like a phantom. paula gives her a big name, telling the nurses with heady confidence that she’ll be famous one day, and it’s the biggest gift she ever gives her. baby genevieve is in her arms so often, she hardly touches a cradle, but it’s not long until douglas feels an uneasiness creeping in.

paula is bohemian silk skirts and crushed velvet. she grows restless being trapped in the plain, modest home in northeast. she is a woman that is easy to fall in love with—not meant to sit at home idly with a collicy baby, where she finds herself in tears more than ever. douglas returns from work to find baby genevieve screaming unattended in her crib while paula cries in the backyard with an ashtray full of cigarettes. she tells him she’s worried she’ll crash the car one day on the way to the grocery store with them both inside. douglas digs his teeth into his bottom lip and tries not to cry. he squeezes her hand and tells her she needs to go to therapy. what he really wants to tell her is that their baby needs her. he leaves paula outside and spends the afternoon tidying the house with genevieve swaddled against his chest. it’s a warm feeling.

it’s not long after that paula starts disappearing for periods of time and douglas learns she can’t be trusted to watch after the baby on her own. when she calls from downtown in tears, hyperverbal and desperate, he picks her up in his old chevy truck and brings her home. she agrees to see a doctor and for awhile, they figure out how to live again. some days are even as sweet as the rhubarb pies she starts to make again.

there are only two ways neve later remembers her mother, and the first is lovely–paula is picnics and shakespeare in the parks. she’s dried roses in the window and salmon tacos with mango salsa. she is whirlwind adventures and laughter. she teaches neve to make wishes on stray eyelashes, blowing them into the wind like dandelion seeds. on the good days, paula’s eyes are filled with stars. on the bad days, they are left black as the night sky while she cries the constellations down her cheeks. occasionally, she is cruel. mostly, she is absent.

by the third grade, neve expects this. douglas has never been much of a cook–save hamburger patties with canned green beans and a baked potato. she cooks their dinners from recipes she learns from her grandmas and helps around the house. most nights she’s home alone until the grumbling sound of the chevy breaks through the dark and signals her father’s return. eventually, she stops missing her mother from the everyday–it’s only when the other kids talk about their moms that she feels the pang of loss and wonders where she is. some nights neve finds herself sitting in her bedroom window pulling out eyelashes just to have something left to wish on. some of paula’s friends overdose on heroin or get murdered in the nights when neve is sleeping; she stays up late and hopes that her vigil will keep a distant mother safe.

there aren’t many trees on their street–unlike some of the other neighborhoods. the big weeping birch in their backyard that drives her father crazy as he rakes leaves every fall is neve’s pride and joy. there is comfort in the shade its branches cast every summer. at night it makes her lonely as it blocks the silhouette of the waxing moon. on lazy summer days when her father leaves for work, neve sits with her back curved against its rough trunk and reads the day away.

on a cool april afternoon, just after preparing a plate of cherry poptarts with a thin layer of butter on top of the frosting ( much to her father’s chagrin ), neve ventures out to the modest yard to sit under her tree. the familiar crushed blue velvet of her mother’s favorite dress catches her off guard and she drops her breakfast onto the unkempt lawn as her mind makes sense of the unnatural height of its hem as paula swings–marking the time of neve’s pounding heartbeat. the butter solidifies as it cools in the dirt, the heel of neve’s hand-me-down airwalk sneakers mashing her breakfast. the cherry filling sticks to the sole like bubblegum; she’ll never eat them again, but she can’t help but recall that her mom always preferred the maple and brown sugar.

THE ODDS ARE STACKED AGAINST HER ; A GIRL LEARNS TO COUNT CARDS

portland in the eighties and nineties is less portlandia and more drugstore cowboy. a lot of kids from other neighborhoods don’t go downtown. the ones that do have an air of palpable grit. neve takes the max, rides her skateboard in the dark. douglas has cautioned her a hundred thousand times, but paula’s death has instilled such a great fear of losing his daughter that he lets her get away with more than he knows he probably should. he fears paula’s ghost will someday possess her and she’ll wander off into the ether. most days he insists that the only parts of paula he sees in his cherished daughter are the good ones–neve holds onto the corporeal world with claws. it’s only on the worst nights–paula’s specter cooling the sheets of his bed in the dark–that he wakes up with the fear his daughter is gone.

douglas’s new wife, rosie, does her best to pit them against one another, but sometimes–she’s not so bad, neve thinks. it’s nice to have a mother figure in the house again even if she falls short most days. sometimes she thinks that maybe they could learn to love each other. if nothing else, she’s sure she owes a bit of gratitude to the woman; the nights of her father’s haunting sobs have become fewer and farther between. it isn’t until douglas begins receiving late notices on utilities that he begins to grow suspicious. rosie is quick to throw neve under the bus–a young girl like that? she’s probably stealing their money to spend on drugs and CDs at sam goody. douglas has never bet on anyone like he bets on his daughter; rosie’s gambling debts are news to them both.

the fallout of the relationship leaves douglas and neve in dire financial straits. the father is heartbroken–another love lost, he blames himself for always choosing the wrong lady luck. despite their financial ruin, left in rosie’s wake, douglas has a hard time getting out of bed most days and blows through what little sick time he has available to him. school takes a back burner and neve barely attends it at all–favoring her time on finding work ( legitimate and illegitimate ) to help keep their small family afloat. she attends class when it’s profitable and waits tables or washes dishes when she can. it’s still not enough.

a few kids turn neve onto small crimes to turn a profit. they ride the max to the suburbs and crash parties–stealing pills out of medicine cabinets and turning them over for profit. calculus wasn’t worth a good goddamn, but distribution teaches skills. it’s hard not to get caught up in petty thefts and the occasional break-ins. neve and her friends find it easy to justify in the spirit of class war. a pin on her denim jacket reads ‘eat the rich’ and it doesn’t sound so bad. portland is a cannibal and it eats its children.

neve is a cat with nine lives and despite her friends being caught by the long arm of the law or the stronger arm of revenge, she evades detection. even such cats live with a fear of death, and as consequence catches up to members of the small circle she runs with, neve knows she is living on borrowed time. sooner or later, she knows, her luck will run bone dry.

SPRING RETURNS TO PORTLAND ; THE FROST CLINGS TO FRAGILE BONES

neve dropping out of high school is a wake up call for douglas. he sees farther than she does and knows that she deserves a better life than the one he’s scrounged together for her. most days, he blames himself for a life that could have been; some kids like her wore neatly pressed dresses and folded over lace socks on picture day. some kids had piano lessons and summer camps. there’s a lot of insight in hindsight, but neve staunchly opposes his masochistic remorse and becomes determined to prove him wrong. it takes her a couple years of working to figure out what she wants to do–a girl baptised in her mother’s blood is born with the kind of heart that takes on too much. she is meant for saving lives and carrying the world on her shoulders like atlas himself.

it takes time, but as douglas gets their house in order and starts working again. neve is able to start up at portland community college. she takes up a work study job and works a steady flow of odd jobs on the side to support herself. lady luck shines her fortune on the pair for the first time in forever to make up for the steady losses they’ve sustained over the years. life isn’t lavender and gardenias, but somehow waking up becomes little and less painful each day. some days neve wakes up and forgets that she can’t breathe. most days she spends her gratitude in the heap of debt the world owes her–waiting for the other shoe to drop.

the rebirth of their family is a hearty soil; both channings flourish as if made anew. the dew drops that cling to garden spider webs in their window signal the looming anniversary of a mother’s misty breath and neve learns not to fall apart. douglas works hard to do right by her and make up for the years of never knowing what to do and waffling between what is best and what is desirable. he is a man that longs for dreams–feet barely brushing the earth like her mother’s did on that day–but he is learning to make dreams work too. his dreams take root around his daughter once more; he builds them around her and builds her up with them.

the highschool dropout graduates her community college adn bridge program and she can hardly believe it when she’s accepted to ohsu for her bsn. there are no college diplomas with the channing name hanging on walls with peeling wallpaper or tucked away in trunks with paula’s things. douglas has saved his money for months to get her the right graduation gift and neve laughs, downplaying that it’s not a real graduation, but still walks in the ceremony at his insistence.

she returns home to the small party of friends she’ll start to grow apart from when she gets tired of the jeers about how she thinks she’s ‘too good for them’ now. neighborhoods like hers don’t always love to watch you grow if it means you’ll leave them. they’ll still blow up her phone for medical advice, but the invitations dry up like the drought of portland natives in southeast. for now, it’s a pleasant barbecue. the highlight of the evening comes in the small bundle of inky fur that douglas proudly produces after neve’s second burger. peering out from his strong arms are the brown eyes of a young siberian husky. douglas begs her to name the pup murphy over robocop, but loses easily–a hearty chuckle on his lips. they are bonded instantly–girl and dog–robocop becomes neve’s second most stalwart companion next to her father.

nursing school is hard, but it’s not impossible and it is full of new kinds of joys. she makes new friends and they eat lunch from the thai foodcart—nestled within the pod of south waterfront—and lay on the quad drinking smoothies and complaining about the next pharmacology exam. nose in a book and a drink in her hand at happy hour down at cha cha cha !, neve attracts the attention of pa student shane stone. he knows a nursing school classmate of hers from high school and is quickly incorporated to their study groups with a couple of his friends. he is tall with dark hair and kind eyes and just the sort of person a girl dreams of falling in love with. he spends little time worrying about things like rent and bus passes. it’s not even the end of the semester before study dates evolve into movie dates. there’s an entire world between them, but somehow the pair build a bridge.

DEATH RATTLES AND DYING BREATH ; THE GIRL’S OTHER SHOE DROPS

as neve focuses on school, douglas seems to be making steps to keep himself around longer. they go for long walks with robocop around the neighborhood. southeast portland is becoming a different neighborhood and the cost of living is high. restaurants crop up with around the block waits and family friends are forced to move to grayer pastures. it seems, to the channings, that it’s the end of an era. with neve spending most of her time at shane’s apartment on south waterfront, douglas’ weight loss is hardly noticed–everyone assumes it is merely the byproduct of increased activity. it isn’t until his stature becomes gaunt that neve starts to worry.

shane holds neve close when she finally breaks down–sneaking into the single bathroom of the clinic to let her fall apart the way he knows she can’t do in the open. like a wild animal, the girl he loves hides herself away when she feels death’s acrid breath on her neck. he doesn’t know what loss is and he certainly can’t relate to what she’s been through. douglas’ diagnosis is like watching the noose tighten around her mother’s neck all over again. her throat is dry like she’s choking on the fibers of that same rope; the world has a foggy edge—hollow like street lights illuminating an empty suburban neighborhood on a clear, dark night. everything is wooden; everything feels like a dollhouse.

it’s hard to keep up on her studies, but somehow neve muscles through. shane gives up his idyllic apartment and moves into their modest southeast home to help out. he makes a lighthearted joke about finally being a real portlander and moving so near the trendy, revitalized mississippi neighborhood and neve drops and breaks her coffee mug on the unfinished wood floor of the kitchen. it’s just another reminder that he doesn’t belong in her world any more than she does in his. it doesn’t sting as bad as the ink on his mother’s checks that she cashes to keep her father comfortable on his deathbed while she learns to be a better caretaker. life ebbs and flows, but douglas’ drains away until she hardly recognizes the sinewy, pale hands that hold hers so strongly for a man that can’t sit up by himself any longer. she curses her mother once more for leaving and twice for never having been there in the first place.

death isn’t slow or peaceful like the woman from her father’s church will lie about at the funeral. his death rattle lasts for hours and the bellows of his chest quake with weary breath. part of her wishes that the hospice nurse had started an iv on him and a sick, hidden part of her wishes it because a sweet dose of morphine would’ve ended it all sooner for him. she wonders silently if that would do more to ease his pain or hers? he hasn’t been conscious in two days. shane sits with her at the side of his bed with rapt attention and as his breathing slows, neve crawls into the hospice bed next to him. the next several months are a blur and a father misses his only daughter’s graduation. neve is barely present there herself.

shane insists that she’s not an orphan–his parents fly in from denver and treat her like one of their own. it guilts her that she can’t help but resent them for the simple virtue of living while her own father is reduced to a cold dust. she wears his ashes around her neck in a pendant from the funeral home and spreads the rest in every beautiful place she can find. some of them spill into her purse during a hike with robo and shane and she breaks down in tears. there are so many small things that make her sick or numb. a multitude of tiny memories that weigh as much as planets; isn’t dust what helped create the milky way? even around the stone family she feels alone. maybe especially around the stones.

HACKLES RAISED, A GIRL LEARNS THE DANGERS OF BEING FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE

the emergency department attracts all kinds of people in myriad dire straits. people come in at the end of their ropes–infections ignored too long, stabbings and shootings, a broken bone from slipping off the slide, and sometimes when they feel like they can’t live any longer. evan does not fit into any of these categories when he comes in. among the myriad failings of the medical system, lack of access and use of primary care is one of the larger contributions to higher emergency department volumes and evan is another data point in a sea of statistics. he comes back to neve’s room with a sly grin plastered on his face and states that he’s new to the area and can’t get into a new primary care for a few months. his daily asthma inhaler is out and he needs to renew the prescription and get a referral to a clinic.

there’s nothing on the surface that identifies this man as a threat. he’s almost charming and he’s nontoxic appearing–a nice easy patient in a sea of sick people is sometimes a great relief. they make some small talk and it’s the usual stuff she chats about with patients: ‘where’re you from?’ ‘where did you go to school?’ he expresses an interest in nursing and she recommends the program she attended at the hospital she now works. there’s almost a tension there, and when he makes a casual comment about the tan line on her finger she tells him that she doesn’t wear her engagement ring at work because it can tear the gloves. that’s only half right. maybe he can sense the rest of the truth; she’ll wonder that later when she pieces together every scrap of something she can use to blame it on herself.

he sends her a message on facebook, which makes her lips curl downwards in uncertainty. even that isn’t entirely alarming. it opens up reminding her that he’s knew to the area, and that he’s interested in the nursing program she went to. it’s a surprise, but he makes mention of a girlfriend’s wifi and he even asks how shane is doing. he loves her dog and mentions wanting one himself. sure, it’s a little weird–unconventional–but neve has always been interested in helping others find nursing and agrees to meet him for coffee to discuss the program. when they meet, she sees the mistake inherit in it before she even opens the cafe door. he’s disheveled and hyperverbal when he speaks to her and she can barely get a word in edge wise. between the gift he’s brought her and the intensity of his stare, she wonders how she could have read him so wrong. it’s then that he drops the bomb that makes her stomach sink into the trench it detonates in–will they take him in the nursing program with a record? she doesn’t ask, but he provides the details anyway. death threats to some girl he barely knew that wouldn’t leave him alone, he paints the canvas well, but she can read between the lines. evan stevens is dangerous and his lethal eye is trained on her.

she makes an excuse to leave–the first of many excuses, the illusion of being unavailable, unattainable. it’s the advice she’s given to women before, but never had to follow. those words offered to women in distress seem so trite now, so hollow. there is so much fear in cutting ties slowly–the strategic approach to keep an impulsive person like that from escalating. she wishes she could take those clinical offerings of textbook wisdom back from those women and hold their hands. she wonders how many of them still live. he starts blowing up her phone constantly. he comments on all her social media. all day and all night. if she doesn’t respond, he threatens suicide. some days he asks if she’s working and says he brought her lunch. if she says she’s sick, he asks for her address to bring her tom yum takeout from the restaurant she’s posted about on instagram. everything makes her sick now.

A FINAL GIRL IS FORGED ALONE ; THERE IS NO SUBVERTING FATE

god, it’s hard to speak about. she can’t even let the words reach her tongue, lips and teeth to birth them. they shrivel and die in her throat, festering there until she swallows them and they rest in her stomach like great stones. she wonders if evan will cut her stomach open like a wolf and find the rocks there. that’s not how the story goes; she tells herself so many versions as she lies awake in the dark afraid to sleep.

when she finally tells her friends–a smattering of girls and guys from nursing school, the er, and her neighborhood–the response is like the knife she dreams about in her gut. she shows some of the girls at her work his picture, worried that he’ll come in asking about her. she’s chided by these friends, “he’s actually pretty cute, florence nightingale” they joke. “it must be flattering to have the attention.” even shane suspected that there’s some indulgence on her part. that maybe she likes trying to fix people who are broken so much that she gets some sick reward from the experience. he doesn’t speak the words, but neve is fluent in shane stone. he says it in his eyes, the downcurve of his lips, the tense way he sighs when her phone dings over and over again during date nights.

on a cold night in december, neve works on meal prepping alone in the kitchen. evan has been out of town helping his mother remodel her kitchen and neve feels like she can finally breathe in the space he’s left behind. turning on the wireless speaker, she tries to pair her phone to play music as loud as the thin walls of her father’s modest northeast portland home will allow and instead hears, in the cold, robotic voice ‘pairing with neve’s iphone and evan’s iphone.’ robocop doesn’t even lift his head in suspicion the whole night. she calls 911, but they find neither hide nor hair of him. in the morning, neve nails the windows shut and buys a gun–a smith & wesson .357 snub nose revolver. the weight of it is heavy in her hands and she buys a membership to a gun range, calling into work and practicing until shane returns. she doesn’t tell him about the gun and she stops telling him how bad things have gotten with evan. the click of his tongue and disapproval in his eyes is more dooming than a death sentence and she can’t bear to bring further disappointment. neve channing is a strong woman–a smart woman. things like this don’t happen to women like her.

somehow, evan is everywhere and he knows all her secret places as if he exists as an extension of her. maybe he even believes he is–sending her voice messages about how they’re connected. they are the same; they are foils of one another. he send her a picture of his ouroboros tattoo from a new number after she finally blocks him. ‘we are the same.’ he is an all-consuming, devouring force, but she is not a serpent’s tail. he is moloch–besmeared with blood, the great, horrid king–but she is not a child and she will not be sacrificed for sins she has not committed. he has not right and there’s only one way she can see this ending as the days grow longer. like life itself begins, this too will end in blood.

LOVE IS A HARD KNIFE ; A GIRL CAN’T STOMACH AMBROSIA

there is a consequence to every action and every inaction. every little thing she chooses not to tell shane fester and boils. the late nights at work and the new passcode on her phone seem more to shane like cheating than a worsening of some creep’s obsession. she hasn’t even mentioned evan to him since the trees started blooming again. when he elects to cheer her up and bring her lunch during a shift she traded so she could practice at the gun range, his suspicions deepen and while she sleeps that morning, he rifles through her work bag and finds alongside her locked cell phone the cold steel of a secret that he cannot abide by.

it’s not his fault either and she means that from the bottom of her heart. every kindness from the stones feels like another debt and neve can’t help but let the resentment fester in the tasteful diamond on her finger. when she looks upon his face now all she can see is death and it’s the world’s cruelest joke, because she’s the one with cemetery dirt underneath her fingernails. she can’t tell which of the two of them she resents more and they both deserve lives where ghosts stay buried and the dead don’t whisper malcontent in her ears while she struggles to fall asleep. nightmares are her own warm milk; she’s sick of the cold metal of a gun as she moves it from her night stand to her purse each morning. she’s tired of being made to feel like she had a stake in any of this.

it’s not the kindest way to leave a man, but she’s not sure she’s ready to face him again after all that’s happened. she leaves her house keys with her cousin paloma and packs up shane’s stuff. paloma has just started nursing school and can use neve’s father’s old house to sublet. the rent’s free and she’s always been gentle hearted. neve can’t think of anyone better to care for her father’s old house. with dear john letters to both shane and the hospital, neve takes robocop and enough of her things to fit into her subaru forester. it’s not goodbye. it’s never goodbye, she thinks as she hugs paloma on the modest porch. it still feels so permanent, but neve tells herself that big decisions always do. she yearns to discover who she is outside of grief and fear and love. a daughter cannot bloom in her parents’ shadows and she is suffocating underneath the gentle love of the mourning glory.

on the road without a real plan–because if she doesn’t know where she’s going, then neither does evan–neve signs on for a travel nursing company. the first assignment she considers is salem hospital an hour south and it’s a great department, but it’s too close to home. he’ll find her there easily. st. charles in bend isn’t far enough away either. it doesn’t feel like enough of a difference and none of them do until she’s cruising down the interstate through blythe, california and she sees a listing for a level one trauma center in tuscon, arizona. it feels like it could be the right place to burn and be born again.

A GIRL AND HER DOG; SOMETIMES PEACE IS ITS OWN KIND OF PRISON

the cool steel of the snub nose .357 revolver lies buried beneath her registration and owner’s manual in the glove compartment. she wonders briefly as she pulls out her sunglasses and slips a salty french fry into her mouth. the car stereo fades in and out along the southbound highway, switching between some smooth-talking radio host and the tinny crooning of buddy holly. it makes her think of her father, and she blinks back tears–plugging in her iphone to switch to a tune that doesn’t bring back such painful memories. robocop whines in the backseat and neve discovers that her maps aren’t loading any longer, the gps unable to locate their vehicle.

there’s no sense in pulling over and pulling out the map of arizona she purchased from a disinterested teen in the first gas station she’d come across in the state. there’s only two days before the job starts and, according to her recruiter, they’d already moved the orientation up a day, cutting her time to adjust to her new ( temporary ) place before work in half. taking a long drink of coffee–now as cold as her french fries–she blinks hard to keep awake and just when she thinks she’ll have to pull over and sleep in her car huddled close to robocop’s warm, furry body.

neve passes a hospital on the outskirts of town–lit up all pretty against the dark desert sky. it looks nice enough and the longer she drives, the more she considers that her recruiter might’ve told her they were full up in tuscon. maybe that was why they moved the date up for orientation afterall. in the dark august night, most of the businesses are closed and the lights in the mobile home park neve passes are off. the first place she sees open is bj’s food mart and she stops to get a fresh cup of coffee and stretch her legs. she learns inside that amen county is always hiring and leaves with a smile on her lips.

neve has spent nine peaceful months in boot hill. the gun no longer lives shoved into the bottom of her work bag or nestled into the glove compartment of her subaru. now it spends its days in solitude in the coffin-like drawer of her bedside table. evan will never find this place, she is almost sure of it. he might be looking for her, but he’s not looking for boot hill. some evenings on her long strolls to work, she smiles and closes her eyes–listening to the soothing sounds of the town.

soon enough, neve is sure there really was no travel assignment to reach. or, if there had been, she can’t remember where it’s at. instead, she takes some time to enjoy the small town and the anonymity she feels there. she’s not even living out of the silk bonnet hotel anymore. she hadn’t seen boot hill on any map during her road trip and, if that’s universal, her past can’t find her without a destination to set its sights on. there is more than great comfort in that. by the end of her first month, she can’t imagine living anywhere else.

the emergency department is not the bustling trauma center she was used to, but there is an appeal to the autonomy rural medicine offers an experienced nurse. hell, in some places the doctors only come in if you call them. neve can’t exactly remember the application and interview process anymore. it seems like there are so many things that have become mysteries and she can’t find herself caring enough to investigate them long enough to follow an actual lead. it seems like she’s always worked there–an instantaneous sensation of home. she couldn’t even leave if she wanted to.

#neve.#⚕ ━━━ VISAGE ჻ neve channing.#⚕ ━━━ CHARACTER STUDY ჻ neve channing.#⚕ ━━━ AESTHETIC ჻ neve channing.#⚕ ━━━ SOUNDTRACK ჻ neve channing.#⚕ ━━━ THREADS ჻ neve channing.#⚕ ━━━ CONNECTIONS ჻ neve channing.#⚕ ━━━ WANTED ჻ neve channing.#⚕ ━━━ RESOURCES ჻ neve channing.#⚕ ━━━ WARDROBE ჻ neve channing.

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aroacehogwarts · 6 years

Note

could hufflepuff mod write about demiromantic pansexual trans boy lily and biromantic demisexual trans girl james raising harry together? (i'm not sure what james and lily would change their names to, but i think jamie would work for james!)

I’m glad people (or maybe just one of you =p ) are enjoying these types of stories!

(Trans people aren’t required to change their names, and if they do, it doesn’t have to be close to their deadname. I know that makes things easier in fandom so we know who is who but for the sake of representing this, I chose the name Noah for Lily, who I feel would like the softer qualities of both names, though in Rowling-verse, it’s pretty likely she would choose some sort of floral-inspired name for her middle name, like maybe Ash, Basil, Sage, or Rowan.)

Noah thought it all a little flowery and dramatic, but he truly did love Jamie, and what was wrong with indulging your significant other every now and then? With a flick of his wand, he finished conjuring the last of the flowers to decorate the Potter’s backyard. With a deep breath, he brushed his suit off, felt in the pocket to ensure the ring was there, and situated himself in the middle of the arrangement he’d conjured. In just a few minutes, Sirius, Remus, and Peter would all return to the Potter’s House, where Euphemia would insist on inviting them all in for some tea. Jamie would protest that they’d just gone out for food, but Peter would claim he was still hungry and Remus would shrug like ‘who can argue with your mum?’, then Sirius would drag them all in and flash Jamie a grin. Because the two were so close, the grin would give Jamie her first flutters that something was up. When Euphemia said it was such a nice night that they should gather in the backyard for tea, Jamie would know before she stepped outside what -

Noah smiled at his beloved. He was certain his hands were shaking.

Jamie shook her head and tried to back inside, but an excitable Sirius gave her a rough push towards Jamie. “N-now?” she asked, stumbling towards Noah.

Noah knelt to one knee, presenting the ring to Jaime. He did his best to block out Euphemia, Fleamont, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Marlene, and Alice (the last two of which had been hiding inside in waiting), gathered and grinning back near the house.

“You know better than anyone how rough a start we had, Jamie,” he started, the words tumbling out too low and fast to hide just how nervous he was, “but you should also know better than anyone else what we’ve been through and just how much I love you. I don’t know how long it will be, but I want to spend every last second of our life together. Will you marry me? Potter?”

And then, as if she’d been stuck in slow motion, Jamie rushed the rest of the way to him, bending to pull him up and kiss him, deeply, desperately. “Yeah, of course, No’! Dammit, put that ring on me now.”

Noah laughed as he slid the ring on Jamie’s finger as their friends and family came out to hug and celebrate with them.

Jamie had thought she was the only trans person at Hogwarts. What a silly thought that had been. In fifth year, everything began changing, and that’s when she bit the jinx and came out and moved into a dorm that seemed oddly lonely compared to where she’d slept her first few years.

In the week that followed her coming out (which was in true, spectacular Marauder’s style thanks to her amazing friends), Professor Flitwick gave her five points for good spellwork when she was distracted and goofing off in class, Professor McGonagall asked her to come to her office and treated her to some biscuits, no less than 17 students (spanning all four Houses, no less) thanked her or high fived her for “you know what you did”, and the student he’d been voraciously pursuing since first year offered his (hers at the time) hand and said “things have been quieting down between us for a while now. What do you say to officially starting offer?” It wasn’t until a year later that Noah came out and switched dorms, but that moment had meant everything to Jamie.

“That’s actually called asexuality,” Remus nonchalantly remarked, taking his third homemade chocolate chip cookie of the night.

“Hm?” Jamie distractedly asked, Noah’s legs in her lap as she played with his hair, simply adoring his new haircut.

“What you just described. Well, technically, asexual spectrum - and more specifically, demisexuality. You know. You only romanticaly liking Noah until long after you two became friends and started dating.”

“Wait, what?” Noah said, slapping Jamie’s hands away. He looked very intensely at Remus and Jamie took that as a sign to pay attention.

Remus sighed. “Was that a please-repeat-what-you-said-for-a-third-time-what?”

An annoyed look crossed Noah’s face and he pushed hard down on Jamie’s shoulder in order to stand. The movement was awkward thanks to the eight month old baby growing inside of him. “Remus,” he started, Jamie quickly shifting to help push her husband up to standing all the way, “I am super pregnant, which is making me incredibly uncomfortable. I’ve been holding what is probably my 50th pee of the day for the past half hour, trying to block out your loud-as-Merlin’s-balls-slapping-together cookie crunching, and my ankles are just throbbing. I am also getting more and more dysphoric by the day, so much so that I’m not sure how I’m going to survive another month of this, no matter how much I want this little one, and I was having what was the most intimate time with my partner since this pregnancy began and you and the other’s refused to let us have any time alone. So yeah, when I ask you to actually explain what you’ve barely hinted at twice, I am really asking you to explain.”

Jamie ducked her face below the couch to try and smother out the giggles. She actually heard Moony’s gulp as he set down the cookie and tried to placate Noah with a surrendering hand gesture. Face smoothed over, Jamie peeked up over the couch.

And that’s when Remus gave them a thorough and informative explanation on asexuality and the asexual spectrum. Noah finally took a break to pee, and when he returned, Remus finished by talking about aromanticism. Then, seemingly for good measure, offered to talk about other identities, such polysexual, polyromantic, and nonbinary identities.

Jamie thought that Remus could have shared this information with them much sooner. She immediately pegged herself as demisexual, finally clicking into place what her sexuality was. Not just bisexual but bi and demisexual. For once, she did her thinking quietly, as Noah murmured. “Demiromantic. Oooooh.”

“Hey!” Jamie said. “Does that make us demi buddies?”

Noah rolled his eyes, but laughed. “Demi multisexual buddies,” he smiled. Noah was pansexual. Seems like Remus’ lecture had done the best job of distracting Noah from his dysphoria yet, as her husband looked more comfortable - if he could be called comfortable at this point - than he had in months.

“Hey, how long’ve you been sitting on all that, Moony?” Noah had been the one to teach them (well, Remus, who had then shared it with the rest of the Marauders) about things like gay and bi and pan (Remus was bi while Sirius was gay, they’d eventually realized), so it was interesting now for Remus to be on the sharing side and Noah the learning side.

“Erm… a couple years now. A while after Noah helped me realize I was bi, I got curious. Were these muggle-only terms? Did we have our own terms that had been created? Were there other possibilities, other identities? How common have these been throughout history? So I started doing some research.”

Noah, who was closer to Remus than Jamie, swatted at him. “And you never shared? Rude,” he teased, though he was clearly exasperated.

“Sorry.” Remus lifted his hand to his neck and rubbed at it. “Things, ah, happened… between us. And it… didn’t seem important after that.”

Oh, Jamie realized. Sirius using Remus and almost getting Severus killed. Yeah. That… had been a terrible year. Things still hadn’t exactly returned to normal, even now.

“You talking earlier. For some reason, it just made that pop back in my head.”

“Harry,” Noah said, smiling down at his precious new baby, finally revealing his name choice to Jamie. They’d both decided to just pick their favorite names and decide which order they should go in after the baby was born. They didn’t do anything like pick a name for either a boy or girl. They just picked their favorites. Harry: a new name for a new member of their family.

Jamie squeezed his shoulder and looked down upon her child, unable to stop grinning. “James,” she revealed.

Noah looked up at her, then smiled. A name of their past, which also served as a nod to Jamie’s parents. Both had semi-recently lost their parents (Noah’s hadn’t even seen their wedding), though Jamie more recently so and having a lot of trouble moving forward from it.

“Harry James,” Noah whispered.

“James Harry?” Jamie said, but she already knew.

“Harry James,” the new parents said in unison. Harry blinked. Their hearts absolutely melted in cuteness.

“Harry, please, go to sleep,” Jamie begged, rocking the babe for what seemed like hours now.

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been rallying hard recently, especially against their little family and the poor Longbottom’s, now with a beautiful baby of their own. Just a couple weeks ago, Dumbledore himself had come to Jamie and Noah and insisted they and Harry were in grave danger and needed to hide. With Dumbledore and Sirius both pushing hard for them to hide and the desire to protect Harry overriding everything else, they’d agreed.

Harry was seemingly less than happy at the arrangement. Or maybe Jamie was projecting.

She loved Noah with all her heart, and she didn’t even understand how her heart beat before Harry had been born, but being locked up inside their house without any of their friends and no news of the outside world was wearing on all of them.

Harry was cradled against Noah’s chest. For once, he was silent, as silent as the tears that rolled down Noah’s face. Jamie herself felt numb. She could be crying. She honestly didn’t know.

Moony looked like shit. Between even more scars thanks to Dumbledore’s work for him and the lack of sleep he’d gotten seemingly singlehandedly trying to organize Sirius’ trail, he was a complete wreck. Jamie’d never seen him look so bad, not even right after a full moon.

“Peter… Wormtail - he… betrayed us?” So much had happened so quickly. How could it have all gone down like this?

“Sirius put things together, realized Peter was going to betray you. Went after them. There was a big duel. Aurors are saying he’s dead, but… you know. Unregistered animagus. Sirius thinks - and I agree - that he’s in the wind.” Aurors had arrested him and tried sending him to jail as a Death Eater, but Remus and Dumbledore had apparently rallied hard last night, immediately after he was arrested, and at least managed to secure him a trial. Jamie hated to think what would have happened if He-Who-Had-Must-Not-Be-Named had gone after them instead of the Longbottom’s. Not just because that would mean their child had been murdered but because then Sirius would be the only one with the knowledge that Peter was the secret-keeper and he’d have no chance even with a trial. As it was, it was only thanks to Remus’ ingenious thought of letting them all communicate through objects charmed with the protean charm in case anything had gone bad that Jamie had known it was time to come out of hiding.

“Alice and Frank?” Noah’s voice cracked. Jamie had known Alice and talked with Frank a few times, but Alice and Noah had been really close, especially after what had happened with Severus.

Moony looked down and shook his head. “Dead,” he said, voice raspy and thin. “Killed protecting Neville.”

Noah shook his head and bent over Harry, kissing the top of his skull and dripping tears on his head.

“Neville?” Jamie asked. Remus had been slowly taking them through everything they’d missed since they’d gone in hiding. Jamie was exhausted and heartbroken. She didn’t want to ask but had to know.

“Scarred. But alive, somehow. I think Dumbledore said something about ancient magicks, but… I wasn’t really listening past Neville surviving and… and defeating Him.”

Jamie shook his head. Neville’s life as a miracle but a miracle she didn’t understand.

“Who-” Noah looked up again, “is he going to?” Jamie understood in that instant that Noah would volunteer them to adopt Neville if their family situation was like hers and Noah’s. And Jamie would absolutely go along with it.

“Grandmother, I believe.” Remus rubbed at his eyes and stifled a yawn.

“Here,” Jamie got up on instinct, her mother’s blood running through her veins. “When was the last time you slept? Borrow our bed. Trust me, we understand exhaustion. Get some sleep.”

Remus looked at Noah for confirmation, but he was done. He held Harry close and stared at the table. Jamie gently led her friend to bed. She had so many more questions, but then, didn’t they all?

“NOAH, NOOOAAAH!” Jamie screamed, too excited to control her volume, even though she knew it could scare Harry.

“What!?” Noah rushed into their living room, and Jamie felt bad for scaring him.

She danced, jumping from foot to foot, and pointed at Harry. “He’s walking; he’s walking!”

Indeed, on chubby legs, little Harry had pulled himself up on his legs and was toddling his fourth step towards his mum.

The worry immediately melted away from Noah’s face as he gracefully sank to his knees and held his arms out. Not to specifically reach for Harry, though that’s what it looked like. Feeling as though she was positively glowing, Jamie followed suit, bending down to the floor and holding her arms art. “That’s right, my little fawn, come to mommy!”

Giggles burst forth out of Harry as he sped up and fell into Jamie’s arms. Jamie laughed and picked him up, holding up towards the ceiling. “That was amazing, little fawn!”

Noah’s one arm snaked around Jamie’s waist as the other reached up to grab at Harry’s hand. He clutched Noah’s hand back, happily kicking his legs, glad to have made his parents happy.

“Sirius is going to kick himself for missing this!”

Noah kissed her cheek. “I bet winning that money from you and Remus will help him get over it, though.”

Jamie lowered Harry to her chest. “What?” she sputtered. “I don’t-”

Noah laughed and leaned towards Harry to kiss him on the cheek too. Harry clapped. “You think I don’t know when you bet on our son with your friends.” Noah shook his head and lightly slapped Jamie on the butt. “You should know me better than that by now, dear.”

Jamie laughed, relaxing. She kissed Harry’s forehead and was rewarded with more giggling and clapping. “Let’s see how far you can walk,” she said proudly, gently placing Harry back on the ground.

Noah returned to the other side of the room, lighting up. “Yes, that’s right. Can you walk all the way over here, Harry?”

Merlin, oh Merlin, it looked bad! “C’mere, Harry,” Noah said, heart pounding furiously. “Let me see.” His five year old son sobbed, big ol’ gator tears that, for once, Noah was frightened by. “Just let me see it, okay?”

“Ow, ow, oooow,” Harry cried, not lifting his hands from his knee, though even through the hands, Noah could see the blood.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jamie said, coming to a rest behind Harry instead of hovering over Noah. “Oh, I’m so sorry, just let dad have a look, okay.”

“Noo, hurts!” Harry hiccuped.

“Here,” Noah said. “Breathe with me, Harry. Look, breathe in… Okay, out. When you breathe out, take your hands off, okay? It’ll help it not hurt.”

Jamie combed her fingers through her kid’s thick, wild hair, as wild as her own. “And when you let go, you can hold my hand and squeeze it as hard as you want, okay?”

Harry nodded, already sniffling.

“Breathe in… Ready? And out…” Noah gently lifted Harry’s hands from his knee. Jamie reached in, taking Harry’s small hands in her own. He immediately started squeezing tight, sucking in a breath of air through a wavering lip. Jamie kissed the top of his head.

Noah’s eyes crinkled and tightened. Nearly immediately after, Harry’s grip relaxed and he dropped Jamie’s hand to pull at his knee, eyes wide in amazement. Noah’s expression relaxed. “See, all better, right?”

“Mommy!” Harry said, already forgetting he was supposed to be appearing pathetic. With another wordless spell, Noah cleaned their son up, taking the blood of his - and Jamie’s - hands as well. After another moment’s inspection, Harry grew bored and stood up by putting his hands on the ground, sticking his butt in the air, and then straightening up. Jamie laughed.

Harry ran back to the toy broom he’d fallen off of only moments later. The floating spell had deactivated as soon as Harry had rolled off, and it started up again as Harry put his hand over it and the broom jumped into his hand. “Again, again! I wanna ride more!” He bounced on his feet, looking expectantly at Noah and Jamie, trying to decide who’d be most likely to let him back on the broom.

Noah shook his head but didn’t dissent. With a whoop, Jamie leaped up and went to help Harry back on the broom, though she did flick the hover down lower so if Harry fell again, it wouldn’t be from so high. When it was clear Harry had his balance back, Jamie went to stand by Noah. She gave her a friendly elbow. “Did you see that? He’s a natural,” she grinned.

“You mean he doesn’t know when to quit,” Noah deadpanned, but Jamie knew she wasn’t angry.

Of course they’d brought Harry to Diagon Alley before, but there was something special about bringing your kid to Diagon Alley to go shopping for their first year of school.

They’d gotten Harry’s robes, books, and wand (holly with dragon core, slightly springy). They’d run into Hagrid at Madam Malkin’s and had a friendly reunion, introducing Harry to the groundskeeper. The two had immediately hit it off. Hagrid, unfortunately, couldn’t spend much time chatting, as he’d gotten Dumbledore to convince Augusta Longbottom to let him pick up Neville’s supplies. Apparently Augusta didn’t let the boy out much in order to avoid all the attention he would draw. Hagrid promised Harry they’d see each other again soon, though, and hustled off to his next stop.

The three of them were currently at Eeylops Owl Emporium waiting for Harry to pick out an owl before they finished up by celebrating at Florean’s, where Remus and Sirius were waiting for them. Usually so decisive and quick to form an opinion, this was the longest either Noah or Jamie could remember him putting hard thought into something. (Then again, he was 11, so that was allowed.) They’d started at Magical Menagerie, where Harry had spent most his time eyeing the various snakes. When they’d realized Harry was likely to go for one of them instead of an owl, as they’d intended, they’d gently pushed him towards Eeylops, saying they should be sure to get a good look around everywhere they could.

Harry had lingered for a while over a large, snowy owl, who’d hooted softly and nipped at him. He’d also spent some time with a young burrowing owl who seemed playful, almost playing a game of hide-and-seek with Harry, who’d laughed and poked a finger in the cage and had to be reminded that wasn’t okay here.

“He’s taking this rather seriously, isn’t he?” the amused clerk commented.

Noah grinned, and Jamie nodded, happy to make some smalltalk as she continued to watch Harry. So far, nothing seemed to have piqued his interest as much as the snakes. Jamie whispered as such to the clerk, trying not to be overheard by Harry who, she and Noah hoped might forget if he stared at the owls for long enough. The clerk coughed to cover up their laughter, then addressed Harry.

“You know, Harry, it can help to talk to them. Just introduce yourself. See which of them speak to you.”

In true, confident 11-year-old fashion, Harry waved her off with a hand. “Owls don’t talk like us.”

Noah pinched the top of his nose with his fingers. The clerk simply smiled. “No, they can’t speak to us like humans speak to each other. But if you take good care of your pet, it can become your familiar. That means forming a bond with it. Your familiar can understand you when no one else does, and you may find that you understand your familiar more than just as a pet. To be able to do that, though, you need to know that you can have good communication. If you say hi to one of these owls, and you don’t feel like it’s listening, then it may not be the pet or familiar for you. But if you feel like it could understand you, that’s a good sign.” The clerk’s eye twinkled.

Harry stared at the clerk, head tilted to the side, deep in thought. He looked over at Jamie, who nodded and smiled encouragingly. Finally, he looked at Noah, who had that serious look on his face that Harry knew meant something was somehow important to his dad. That broke it. Harry smiled and started babbling away to the owls.

“Hi, owl! Hi, owl! Hi, owl!” he went around waving at several owls. “We have a cat, you know. Dad says owls and cats don’t always get along together. Do any of you feel brave enough to face our cat? I want someone who will be friends with my cat, can you do that?” Harry wandered through the cages, taking the clerk’s words to heart.

Noah looked over at the clerk, raising an eyebrow in question. The clerk winked. “Just wait,” she said. “Any minute now.”

When they looked back, Harry was standing in front of the cage of a gorgeous barred owl without a nameplate. “This one!” he said brightly, turning to them all. Jamie was sure her grin matched the one on Noah’s face. No snake for them today. That was good. To be honest, Jamie was the tiniest bit frightened of snakes. She was pretty sure Noah’s worries were more along the lines of feeding the thing, since snakes weren’t allowed at Hogwarts as pets.

An owl heavier, they finally headed off to Florean’s. All Harry’s supplies, except his wand, which Jamie made room for in her own wand holster, were stuffed in a bottomless bag, which they had Harry carrying across his back. Noah held the owl’s cage, promptly named Owlbert (which Jamie loved and knew Sirius and even Remus would get a kick out of, too), in one hand and Jamie’s hand in the other. Harry walked - nearly skipped - in front of them, leading the way.

Jamie squeezed Noah’s hand. “Calla’s pretty old. Think she’ll survive the shock of us bringing an owl into the house.”

“Don’t even joke. This owl better prepare itself.”

Jamie laughed and felt Noah’s thumb rub over the back of her hand. Noah loved that cat. Jamie wasn’t sure if they’d ever be able to get another cat again if Calla died.

“Aww,” Jamie said, leaning her head to rest on Noah’s shoulder as they read Harry’s letter together. “His first crush!”

“Maybe.” Harry’s own description was confused on how he was feeling. “Did we prepare him well enough?” Noah worried.

Jamie laughed. “For what?”

“I don’t know…” Noah lifted a hand to twirl it in the air a few times. “To understand how he’s feeling. I know it was a long time ago, Jamie, but do you remember how confused and lost you felt before you knew bi was a thing? Heck before you knew about demisexuality?”

Jamie immediately quieted. Honestly, she hadn’t remembered. It had been a long time. Were they really that old?

“Coming in!” Sirius bellowed from the fireplace, already inside. Jamie laughed, thankful for her friend breaking the awkward silence.

“In here!” Jamie shouted.

Two sets of footprints announced that Remus was with Sirius a moment before they entered the kitchen. “Wazzat?”

“Letter from Harry,” Noah said, handing it over. Harry loved and trusted his Uncles. They were basically extra parents to him. He knew and expected that all letters home would go to Moony and Padfoot, too - often left them special messages in his letters.

“Aww,” Remus smiled.

“His first crush,” Sirius finished. “How exciting. Third year, though. Does that seem sorta late to any of you?”

Noah shrugged. “Not to me.”

They all stared at the letter. Then Jamie laughed and clapped Noah on the back. “He might take after you, then, No’!”

Noah smiled and looked down, but Jamie saw the worry roiling underneath. She knew they’d spend the rest of the day crafting a letter back to Harry. None of them minded, though. Harry was pretty much the center of all their worlds. And with all the trouble he got into at school, this was a mild problem in comparison. One they could actually help solve.

When they’d finished crafting, they put their heads together and worked on modifying a howler to calmly and lovingly give their messages to Harry. He deserved to at least be able to hear their voices for this, if they couldn’t be there to answer his questions in person.

This was worse than the first time. The first time, they were scared for Harry, but they could fight for him. He was theirs to protect and look over. This time, Harry was nearly as old as they had been and facing He-Who-Had-Must-Not-Be-Named’s presence at Hogwarts since first year. He was old enough to make a choice, and he had. Right after they’d all returned from the mess of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour’s wedding. Although Ron and Harry were schoolmates and pals, Harry wasn’t a close enough friend of Ron’s to warrant an invite to his brother’s wedding. All Order members had basically become family of Molly and Arthur Weasley’s, though. The attack had come after the ceremony. Neville (who was closer with Ron than Harry), Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna had all disappeared as the attack started.

A terrified and ferocious Jamie and Noah had found an ashen-faced Harry sandwiched between Remus and Sirius, wand still held out in defense. They’d rushed to Harry’s side, checking for injuries. Remus quietly told them that Harry had done great, been holding his own before Remus and Sirius made it over to him. When they’d finally gotten him to talk, he’d only whispered, “Ginny”. Turns out, their son had been flirting with the youngest Weasley for the past year, and they’d been secretly toying with the idea of a relationship. Harry had seen it when her group had disapparated (or, more likely, Hermione apparated them all away - genius recognizes genius and the Marauders and Noah continued to be stunned by Harry’s stories of her successes, even secondhand told).

Even though returning to Hogwarts meant going to school under a Death Eater, Harry had stood proudly before the four of them and declared, “I don’t care. I’m going back. Other students won’t have a choice. Me and the others, we have to be there for them.”

Jamie steeled her heart and didn’t let her face react. She was sure Noah’s, Sirius’, and Remus’ were much the same. Proud and steely. Worried. Wishing they hadn’t raised such an independent, compassionate Gryffindor. Noah nodded, but it was Jamie who stood and wrapped Harry in a hug. “You give ‘em hell from the inside. Your dad and uncles and I will give them hell from out here.”

Harry gave a half-laugh, half-sigh. Slowly, Noah, Remus, and Sirius stood to join them. Sirius ruffled Harry’s hair. “Always stand up for yourself, Harry.”

It was Noah’s plea that broke the dam, though. “Come back to us, Harry.” His voice broke as he said it.

The night that they sent Harry back off to Hogwarts, the station full of tight-lipped, crying, gray-faced families, Noah and Jamie laid in bed, limbs completely entangled and periodically crying. They didn’t sleep a wink. They rose to Sirius lying awake on the couch and Remus starting coffee for them all. The house was oddly silent. Noah and Jamie, and likely Remus and Sirius as well, felt more resolved and determined than ever. It was time to finally see the end of this damn war.

The Battle of Hogwarts, like all battles, had its downtimes, in which time moved too slowly and things were too clear. During the action periods, everything moved too fast, but at least there was no time to wonder or see who all had died. Jamie and Noah had managed to stick by each other’s side, but they hadn’t seen Harry since the Order initially confronted Headmaster Severus. Sometime after that, Remus and Sirius had been assigned to protect different sides of the castle as them, as well.

When they knew Neville was marching off to the forest to die for them all, they did find Augusta and do what they could to be with her. She’d screamed, a harsh, broken sound, then broken down in tears that she staunchly ignored as she paced back and forth.

It wasn’t until the Battle was over and bodies were being dragged into the Great Hall that Jamie and Noah saw any of their family again. “Merlin, no,” Jamie had whispered, spotting him first, and dashed in between students and families and staff alike. Noah saw what she was headed to a second later and broke into a run after her.

Kingsley Shacklebolt and Minerva McGonagall were carrying an all too familiar body. Minerva caught sight of Jamie and Noah headed toward’s them. Her stony expression fell for an instant, and she said something to Kingsley. They changed course and laid Remus Lupin on the ground.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Jamie was saying as she skidded to a stop, kneeling before Remus’ body. Her hands ran over his face, his neck, his wrist, trying to somehow pass some of her life into him. Noah hovered over his wife, the fear clear on his face. Minerva put a hand on Noah’s shoulder, then Jamie’s, then left them. The tears had come, and Jamie couldn’t stop them. Noah looked frantically around him. Please, please don’t have let them all died.

From across the hall, Noah spotted Sirius’ iconic hair. Almost in slow motion, Sirius turned and made eye contact with Noah. He shook his head, at first unable to move, then walked stiffly towards them, as if forcing himself to come and see who had died. When he was close enough to ID Remus, he roared and fell to his knees where he was, still several feet away. The Hall was a place of grief and mourning for the moment. His roar of heartbreak had hardly been the first and no one bothered looking at him or telling him to shush. Unmoving, unable to join Jamie or Noah over one of his best pals, he looked up to Noah. “Harry,” he mouthed. A question. An order. Noah didn’t know, but he couldn’t look at Remus any longer. Hoping that Jamie would understand his plan, he turned and walked out of the hall. He had to find his child. He had to find Harry.

They all should have helped move and recover bodies, but none of them could. Noah walked past the Weasley’s, bent over the body of one of theirs, past Augusta practically smothering Neville as Luna, smothered by her own father, seemed to be working to get them both a little air. He walked past bodies of children who looked too young to have been allowed to stay and fight. He walked past the bodies of elves, only being grieved by other elves for the moment. He walked past groups of people working to move chunks of stone and make sure no one was underneath.

Noah walked what seemed the whole of Hogwarts, barely taking stock of its immense damage, unable to process all the death he passed. Finally, he stopped and turned to the portraits. Most in this hall were empty - many characters were running around the castle pointing out where they thought they’d seen bodies get buried, while others were simply visiting friends, mourning just the same as everyone else. An old wizard with a long, gray beard and a blue hat and a young woman in a pale, yellow dress were present, though.

“My son,” he tried, “my son, Harry Potter. Do you know him? Have you seen him?” The woman sadly shook her head no. Noah could no longer take it. He made his way back to the Great Hall, hoping Harry, still alive, would have made his way back there by now.

Noah passed Minerva on his way back into the Hall. She grabbed his arm. “Your son needs you,” she said, pointing him roughly outside the castle’s entrance. Noah didn’t bother to ask for details, simply rushed out of castle, desperate to see Harry alive.

There he was. Brown skin, black hair, taller than Noah by a couple inches now, breathing hard and staring up at the sky. Noah didn’t break stride. “Harry!” he called. Harry, face ashy and dirty and covered in blood and all tear-streaked, turned towards him. “Harry,” he said, enveloping his child in his arms. Alive. Harry was alive. Noah breathed in his scent, one head firmly on his back and the other over the back of his head as Harry fiercely returned his hug, bent down to fold into his dad.

“Uncle Moony is dead,” Harry said, voice muffled.

“I know, little fawn,” Noah said, “I know.”

When Harry was able to straighten again, Noah asked if he’d been seen by his mom or Sirius. When he said no, Noah managed to convince him to come inside. Bringing his son to the body of his dead uncle felt like torture, but Jamie and Sirius needed to know Harry was alive, and Harry needed to hug them just as much as he’d needed to hug Noah.

“Any idea what Harry’s news is?” Sirius asked, in lieu of saying hello.

Noah shook his head. “Come on in, Sirius,” he teased. Harry was now 23. At this age, calling a meeting to talk to his parents couldn’t be that many things. Maybe he was sick with a serious illness or was announcing a surprise engagement to a secret partner or even was here to tell Jamie and Noah and Sirius they were too old to be living by themselves anymore. Though only 44, Noah felt much older than that. Had ever since the end of the war five years ago. Political and social recovery and improvement was a long, slow road.

“I’m betting he lost his temper, lost his job, and wants to move back in with us!” Jamie yelled from the living room.

“Jamie!” Noah admonished.

Sirius laughed and stepped inside. “Yeah, have some faith in your kid, Leaps! I bet it’s a promotion.”

Noah rolled his eyes as he followed Sirius into the living room. Sirius and Jamie had long since stopped hiding their betting over Harry from Noah. “You’re just saying that because Jamie’s had to do with Harry’s job.”

Sirius shrugged. “So what do you think, then, if you’re so smart?”

Noah shrugged back. “I think Harry has a right to reveal what he wants to talk about himself.”

“No fun,” Jamie teased, sticking her tongue out.

“What’s no fun?” Harry’s head asked, appearing in the fireplace.

“You!” Jamie teased again. “Get in here, already.”

Harry’s laughter was cut short as his head pulled away and he appeared in a flash of green a moment later.

“Ten galleons,” Sirius whispered to Jamie, and they shook hands.

Harry rolled his bright green eyes, looking startlingly like Noah in that moment.

“So what’s the news, kiddo?” Jamie asked. Noah joined her and Sirius on the couch, giving Harry the stage.

He took a deep breath. “Well, mum, dad. I’m… like you. I finally figured out why I’ve felt… different all these years. I’m agender. I don’t really identify with any gender. I feel more like I… don’t have one. I’m also grayromantic. My romantic attraction is both really low and fluctuates. And… I think I might also be bi, but I’m not really positive yet.”

“Oh, Harry!” Jamie jumped up to hug him, planting a big kiss on his cheek as well.

“That’s not quite all. I, well, I kinda like being called your son, and I like the name Harry, but I want to start using they, them pronouns instead of he, him.”

“Of course, Harry!” Noah beamed, coming in to hug Jamie and Harry together.

“Proud of you, squirt,” Sirius said, coming in to hug Noah, Jamie, and Harry all together. “You know, we all know how hard coming out can be.”

“And how hard figuring out how you feel is,” Noah added.

“You know you’re my favorite kid, yeah?” Jamie asked.

Harry laughed, squirming out of the group hug. “Yeah, yeah,” they said. “So did you make lunch? I’m starving?”

Noah laughed as Jamie playfully shook their shoulder. “That’s my son!” she said. “Knows what’s most important. Of course we made lunch.”

Sirius’ stomach growled.

“Sometimes I think you all only show up here for the food,” Noah sniffed. Sirius grinned and threw an arm over his shoulder.

“Nah, the food’s just a bonus. I enjoy the company most of all.”

“Me too,” Harry said as Jamie copied Sirius and threw her arm over Harry’s shoulder.

“Well, I am just here for the food,” she said. “I can’t believe it took you two decades to figure it out.”

They all laughed. Jamie and Noah shared cooking duties, of course. Noah stuck an arm out behind him. Jamie and Harry both grabbed it and gave it a good squeeze.

“Thanks for being so chill about me being agender,” Harry said once they’d all sat down with full plates, “and grayro and possibly bi. Seamus and Dean finally got engaged and told their families. Dean’s family took it pretty well, if a bit stiffly, but I guess there was some name calling in the Finnigan household.”

Sirius, who was sitting closest to Harry, reached over to put a supportive hand on their shoulder. “We’d never treat you like that, our little fawn all grown up.”

“Never,” Noah and Jamie echoed. And they all meant it.

~Hufflepuff Mod

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newtcloud · 6 years

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I’ve noticed some people seemed interested in my TawnyFeather + kits AU, and I have some news for you, it’s actually part of a much larger AU/fix I think about occasionally.

I do work with a traditionalist (more info) worldview, I list the original names the first time the cat is mentioned. Some cats are slightly genetically changed, I mention the changes as well. (I want to make family trees, one day maybe) I talk from Clan to Clan here, and it’s a lot and a little disorganized haha

Hope you enjoy reading my thoughts!

Windclan

For starters, Mudclaw remains deputy. When Ravenstar (Tallstar, he is black with little white now) is close to dying he calls Mudclaw in for a private meeting. When Mudclaw arrives he sees Crowpaw (he doesn’t receive his name in the mountains, also he has amber eyes) leave and enters. Ravenstar is honest about his fears, and Mudclaw listens critically. He vows to try and keep peace, and earn the other clans’ respect in a less violent way. Ravenstar also tells him to respect what Crowpaw chooses to do, Mudclaw doesn’t understand what Tallstar means with this until Crowpaw says that he needs to leave to sort out his thoughts. He allows it, and prays that he is safe.

Mudclaw becomes Mudstar, with lives (not literal lives, but more in a guidance way, as is more common within traditionalism) for Compassion, Clarity of judgement, Diplomacy, Patience, Love, Wisdom, Endurance, Loyalty, and Understanding of other viewpoints.

Oatwhisker (Onewhisker, brown and white tabby) becomes his deputy, and Starclan shows approval by granting access to the island. The two become good friends.

Windclan and Thunderclan still grow apart, but less so. Mudstar is not hostile, but also asserts their rights to decline help. Firestar is a little saddened, but respects the decision. With time the two clans change that distance to a more casual relationship.

Since Crowpaw is gone, Nightcloud has kits with a loner, Sleetkit (Breezepelt, now a lighter gray) and Antkit (Black molly). They grow up to become Sleetpelt and Antfang, they’re both a little hot-headed but ultimately strong young cats.

Crowpaw returns after several years, changed into a more wise man. He asks Mudstar to be let back, and he accepts after remembering Ravenstar’s words. Crowpaw becomes Crowheart and lives his life without mate/kits.

When Darktail arrives Mudstar is mad that Oatwhisker kept this a secret, but doesn’t have any reason to punish him since he never broke the law. Oatwhisker dies with Darktail, which Mudstar grieved over for the rest of his life. Sedgewhisker succeeds Oatwhisker, and she becomes Sedgestar when Mudstar dies of old age.

Shadowclan

Tawny’s kits are born a lot earlier, and they aren’t really just The Three In Shadowclan for their earlier life. Tawny teaches them about their family in the other clans, and stands up fiercely when other cats try to tell them they’re not Shadowclan.

Rowanclaw is their foster father (he’s trans) and when he has his own litter Tawny + kits help with raising his kits: Redkit/paw/whisker (Redwillow, red and black torbie, predominantly red) and Darkkit/paw/nose (Olivenose, black and red tortie, predominantly black). Tawny and Rowan are close friends, but never mates.

Sol still appears and causes a ruckus, and it’s resolved the same way.

Russetfur retires from her position before she’s killed in battle, she becomes an elder but remains fairly active because she can. Nobody dares to stop her anyway, and her death shakes all the clans. She is succeeded by Tawnypelt.

When Blackstar dies in the floods, Tawnystar succeeds him. She names Rowanclaw deputy.

Tawny’s kits themselves are largely themselves:

Reedtail (Flametail, brownish-red tabby with white) was really sickly as a kit (Tawny didn’t have an ideal pregnancy, with stress from journeying and malnutrition), he often had to stay in the medicine cat den. Littlecloud let him help so he wouldn’t grow bored while he was staying there, when Reedkit was ~7 moons (apprenticed late) he chose to become a medicine cat because he loved the work and wants to help cats as sickly as himself. Littlecloud was very fond of him, and the two were often called “like brothers” by the other medicine cats. He dies from shock after falling in the freezing lake while playing with his foster siblings. Littlecloud was devastated, and mentored no other cats until Mudleaf’s (Puddleshine, brown and white tabby) enthusiasm made him cautiously less stuck in his grief.

Goldenstorm (Dawnpelt, cream and grey calico) was a go-getter, happy to give her opinions and overall quite the troublemaker. She keeps senior warriors on their toes, and Tawny is never surprised to find her at the root of mischief. She has kits later in her life, and is heavily scarred but lives through the Darktail era. She is renamed Scarredpelt, and wears the name with pride.

Heronfur (Tigerheart/star, silver black tabby with white paws and chest) is mostly the same. He’s your average tom, with a penchant for bad ideas. The romance with Dovewing is gone, and he doesn’t become deputy/leader.

Thunderclan

The three are Maplecloud’s (Leafpool, dark, brownish-red ticked tabby) kits, but no-one knows who the other parent is. She steps down as med. cat after she discovers her pregnancy, many cats were skeptic, but her willingness to give up her dreams made them sympathetic. When Cinderpelt dies, she takes up the med. cat duties again.

Foxkit/paw/storm (Jayfeather, red classic tabby), becomes a warrior, his mentor is Brightheart. Maplecloud was overjoyed to see him succeed as a warrior. I personally am not a fan of the whole prophecy in the 3rd and 4th arc, so I scrapped that lol. He’s a cranky warrior that bites off more than he can chew to prove himself, Brightheart helps him accept himself. It’s a long journey, but he is enjoying his life more and more as he grows older.

Emberkit/paw/heart/star (Hollyleaf, black and red tortie), becomes a warrior with a strong belief in the code, highly intelligent and has the qualities of a leader. She is a beloved warrior, deputy and eventual leader. She becomes mates with Smokepelt (Cinderheart, gray and cream and white tabby with a broken leg).

The two have three kits:

Patchfur (Hollytuft, gray and cream lynx point)

Ryestripe (Sorrelstripe, gray and brownish torbie, predominantly brownish)

Ashcloud (Fernsong, grey and white)

Lionkit/paw/claw (Lionblaze, still a fluffy golden tabby), is a strong fighter and the definition of beauty. It was no surprise that he had flings across the borders sometimes. He’s bad at making good choices, and is grateful that Emberheart acts as his brains sometimes. He is the surrogate father of Smokepelt and Emberstar’s kits.

Ashfur doesn’t betray anyone, never had a thing with Squirrel and he dies when he helps Maple and Squirrel save the three in the fire.

Brambleclaw (Reddish-brown tabby) never takes up the position of deputy, Hornetfur (Brackenfur), becomes deputy instead. Bramble gravitates towards an uncle role with Maplecloud’s kits, and is saddened to learn that his attempts towards having kits with Squirrelstorm (Squirrelflight, ticked red tabby, no white) are failing (He’s infertile, they have a loner surrogate around the time of TFA).

Alderkit/paw/pelt (Alderheart, brown tabby with a little white) takes interest in med. cat duties, and succeeds Maplecloud.

Gingerkit/paw/pelt (Sparkpelt, predominantly red torbie with white paws) looks a lot like her grandfather, very excitable.

Pigeonkit/paw/whisker (Dovewing, Gray with odd eyes, deaf and blind on the blue eyed half of her face), has good senses, but ultimately wasn’t meant for he life of a warrior, she becomes a kittypet and still lives near the lake. Foxstorm was her mentor. Her sister visits her occasionally.

Silverkit/paw/claw (Ivypool, silvery gray tabby), was Emberstar’s apprentice when she was a warrior. She’s a good fighter, though at a young age she was often bitter that her sister seemed to get more attention. Emberheart helped her realize her own strength, and she became deputy under Emberstar.

Riverclan

Riverclan was too ignored for me to change much sadly. I still had a few things:

Mothface (Mothwing, golden lynx point) is very close to Maplecloud :) Many jokes are made that Lionclaw looks like her :) ;) Her brother Kitefang (Hawkfrost, brown lynx point) used her to gain power, the two were close and she never hated him after his body and plans were discovered. She doesn’t believe in Starclan still, and is respected. Miststar (Mistystar, ticked gray tabby, Russian Blue green eyes) covers for her lack of belief, and knows she’s valid and a good med. cat.

Riverclan doesn’t let Darktail mess with them, Miststar isn’t leader for long, but still is the oldest living one for a while. Rookstar (Reedwhisker, has green eyes now) succeeds her and his deputy is Minnowtail.

(Also in case my vague smilies are too... vague, Mothface is the mother of the three and loves her children very much despite not seeing them often)

#I don't feel like tagging this...#If you have any questions/I made mistakes don't be afraid to say something.

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souridealist · 6 years

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Slightly belated Yuletide roundup!

WHAT I WROTE:

I had five works in the collection this year, which is a personal best by far: Imperial Radch, the video game Black Closet, "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)", and two for Ursula Vernon's Digger.

Imperial Radch: A Good Friend to Have: Uran and Athoek Station, G, 800 words, no archive warnings apply. A post-canon flashfic about evolving terms of address.

“Why do you still call us Radchaii?” Uran asked, leaning back against the wall. He ran his gloves against the welded seam of the wall next to him, like he was stroking a companion animal or a very close friend. Station couldn’t feel the gesture, either through the wall or through Uran’s hands, but it could see. “It’s been months.”

Brandy: All the Great Wide Sea: Brandy-centric, featuring Brandy/her unnamed lover. G, 600 words, no archive warnings. A short fic about Brandy considering new options.

It wasn’t only men who piled into the bar with a purse full of silver and a head full of tales, either. You got the occasional woman coming along, as tattoo-mottled and shaggy-haired as the men, in ragged trousers and oft-patched shirts. One quiet night Brandy wound up pouring sweet red wine for a woman with three brass rings punched through one ear and the five-thousand-mile swallow tattooed on the back of her hand.

Black Closet: Raise Bid to 31 Pieces of Silver: Rowan/Elsa, T, 1.5K, no archive warnings. A traitorous Rowan turns in an intentionally failed assignment and begins to suspect that Elsa knows her secret.

“You know,” Elsa said. “Mallory’s a good girl, and she can blend in with a crowd all right, but I’ve never had trouble noticing when she comes into a room. She draws the eye.” Mallory was pretty enough, Rowan thought. Bright hair. “But you…” Elsa said, pushing back her chair. “You’re so quiet, when you want to be. It’s a gift.”

Digger: Comparative Theology: Murai, Jhalm, Digger, and Shadowchild. G, 3k, no archive warnings. Four scenes exploring each character's relationship with the divine.

. Later in life, Jhalm revisited the temple and learned of the great wars of attrition that Teshia’s priests fought over the herb beds: the Invasive Plant Debates, the Three Or Possibly Four Basil Varietals, and the Mint Idiot, who planted mint in the ground to run riot over the temple. But as a child he’d always found the gardens peaceful, and he’d loved taking home the sacred packages each worshiper was given, leaves from Teshia’s garden dried over the sacred Hearthflame. He used to press the twists of burlap to his nose and inhale something both delicious and sacred. Once one of the priests caught him at it: Cassandra of the straight gray braids and straight-pressed robes. Jhalm jumped, squeaking, and shoved the herbs into his bag.

Digger: Anything That Talks: Murai and Jhalm, G, 2k, no archive warnings.Jhalm's patrol of the Veiled meets another, more ordinary demon, and Murai and Jhalm have a conversation about authority, the past, and how to be good.

“I eat what I will,” it said, slithering forward. Murai could just see the roots of the trees in its coils. She doubted the little stand of elms would last for very long after this. “I eat the shadows of great and small, of weak and of mighty. Yours, impertinent creature – ah, yours is fascinating, strange and dark and deep. So hard-edged, in such a bright light. You will be…” It moved forward, again – between the flanking arms of the Veiled. “Delicious.”

“I see,” Murai said, stepping easily back. “Captain Jhalm, I believe we should kill this creature, if you will give the order.”

WHAT I RECEIVED:

The Touching of Lips by Prinzenhasserin. Queen's Thief, "Five times Costis wanted to kiss Kamet and one time he did." This is a delightful story about five people making Costis think about how much he wants to kiss Kamet; each scene is a beautifully drawn, distinct sketch, and the payoff is delightful. I wanted Costis/Kamet so badly after Thick as Thieves, and this was lovely to receive.

Antelope Dreams by ambyr. Summer in Orcus, "When she was eleven, Summer thought she was very nearly an adult. At seventeen, she's starting to understand how much she has to learn." This is a glorious postcanon fic about growing up, and living with the legacy of Orcus, and being a well-behaved Good Kid (tm) with a crush on a Bad Kid (tm), and Summer remembering the antelope woman and realizing she's a queer furry. It's perfectly in-tone and beautiful.

AUTHORIAL CHATTERING ON WHAT I WROTE:

Yes, I shall continue to do this. Yes, with all five of them. But under a cut!

A Good Friend to Have: This one was a really interesting experience, because I originally wrote it using she/her pronouns for Uran, since canon does. It wasn't unti coming back to it later that I remembered that Uran is briefly identified as male in Delsig, and that if I was leaving the 'Citizen' honorific as Radchaai, I was 'translating' out of Delsig. And thus shoud use he/him pronouns. I really love the series's use of 'she' as a neutral pronoun, and everything that choice creates, and I was pretty hesitant to step away from it -- but it's also a very central conceit of the story that Uran isn't hearing Radchaai the way a native speaker would hear it. Which means Uran needs to use he/him. Going through and changing that was the most annoyingly fiddly editing task I have ever fucking undertaken, but also... really damn interesting to do! The pronouns were all I changed, and it still shifted my mental image of Uran's body language and physical presence a lot.

This was also published with what was originally its working title, which I don't think I've ever done before; occasionally the right title has come to me by the time I have to save the word document (almost always when the fic is written in one sitting), but this wasn't meant to be final and then I realized I liked it better than anything I could come up with. It's a direct quote from canon: Breq's comment when Uran mentions talking to Station in the second book.

All the Great Wide Sea: The prose is so purple here. I had so much fun writing it. It's a short, open-ended fic written all in a hurry because I thought the collection closed a day sooner than it did, and I basically just threw women sailors, running off to sea to join your man, and Age of Sail tavern imagery together with gleeful abandon. The 'being metamours with the ocean' theme isn't explored as thoroughly as I'd like, but... I couldn't resist adding the tag because I amuse myself too much. I'd never written fic for a song fandom before, even though the existence of it is one of my favorite things about Yuletide before; I'm glad I finally did.

Raise Bid to 31 Pieces of Silver: This title is... a thing. I refused to let mysef name it 'Silver and Hemp,' because this is not a religious fic and for fuck's sake come up with a better reference for a fic about treachery, but, well. I could not, in fact, come up with a better reference. But I did manage to at least include the idea of being tempted out of treachery, and I like the implicit cynicism of the bid thing. Because, you know: Machiavellian secret-police teenagers.

This was a great prompt, and I made a beeline straight for a traitor!Rowan/Elsa worldstate, because that is my favorite route hands down. This is also the first time in I don't know how long that I've used jealousy as a shippy plot device! I don't usually like it, and I don't find it cute in any way; but this isn't meant to be a cute fic, and part of what I love about this fandom is that it's an all-female cast where everyone gets to have a lot of rough edges.

Oh, and I also got to play around with incorporating game mechanics into the story! I fucking love trying to de-abstract game mechanics in a way that doesn't contradict what you actually see. As if you couldn't tell from me regularly sneaking that shit into Dragon Age fic.

Comparative Theology: This was actually my second attempt at my main assignment! I wanted to do a post-canon adventure that involved everyone meeting up while Digger tried to get home, and then everyone having to share anecdotes from their past (since my recipient mentioned liking fic about 'how people get to where they are'), but I just. Could not make it work. I'd had the idea of writing a set of thematically-linked vignettes in the back of my head as a backup, and the idea of linking them specifically by theology clicked just as the deadline started to really intensely loom. And thus! It's a pretty baggage-heavy theme to use, and I did worry about that -- especially in a gift fic -- but, well. The tagline is "A wombat. A dead god. A very peculiar epic." I figured I was probably safe. And one of my favorite things about the comic is what it does with the relationship between the human (or... worshiper of various species) and the divine.

I drew on a bunch of Ursula Vernon's print work as well as the actual comic (though I still got a lot of my own particular High Drama all over the prose, trying to capture the tone of things like the Saltlace sequence in words. The line about the Mint Idiot is in there entirely because I was like 'this voice is drifting way too far back towards just me. QUICK, ADD SOME PLANTS.' The Baba Yaga line is a direct reference to Summer in Orcus too.

I may eventually try and salvage what I had of my original attempt. I hewed closer to canon tones, I think, and I had some good fucking Jabberworck dialogue.

Anything That Talks: This one is secretly my baby. I was surprised to find myself really interested in Jhalm on later read-throughs, because I wasn't the first time; but it turned out I wanted to poke at him. And I really wanted to poke at Murai's decision to be his leash, and at what that might look like, and how she would choose to do it. Twisty power dymanics! The power actually lying with the person with less outward authority! Using one's own weakness as a source of strength! Very rigid people needing to bend or die, and what that costs! MY SHIT. (And I didn't actually realize that last was, in fact, something I keep revisiting until this moment, but hm. This sure is the third fic on that theme I've posted since November.)

Something I absolutely did not do intentionally during this fic and then noticed in the editing: I don't reference color anywhere in this fic other than 'cold white-glowing eyes.' Perils of writing for a black-and-white comic! (I didn't do that in either 'Comparative Theology' or my false start; fic isn't canon, text isn't a comic, and you've got to use the medium you're working with. But I left it alone for this one; I liked it.)

#yuletide #yuletide 2017 #digger #imperial radch #black closet #brandy (you're a fine girl)#queen's thief #summer in orcus #otp: the cup was overturned; the wine spilled #fanfic #it all goes around

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fiinalgiirls-aa · 5 years

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GENERAL INFORMATION.

FAMILY INFORMATION.

PHYSICAL INFORMATION.

MEDICAL INFORMATION.

PERSONALITY.

TRAITS - ( + ) compassionate, resilient, tenacious, ; ( - ) self-righteous, cynical, aloof TROPES - nerves of steel, canine companion, good is not soft, deadpan snarker. TEMPERAMENT - melancholic ALIGNMENT - chaotic good CELTIC TREE ZODIAC - rowan, the thinker MBTI - infj HOGWARTS HOUSE - ravenclaw VICE / VIRTUE - pride ; liberality LIKES / DISLIKES: animals, reading, running and weight lifting, not having to share her popcorn, take-out, breakfast for dinner, leather / denim jackets, white sneakers, fresh cut flowers, solitude, people who think about others, / medical dramas, arrogance, science deniers, bok choy, people who talk to her at the gym or when she has headphones on, movie remakes, passive aggression. QUOTE: ❝take a body, dump it, drive. take a body, maybe your own, and dump it gently. all your dead, unfinished selves and dump them gently. take only what you need. ❞

FAVORITES.

BIOGRAPHY.

trigger warnings: murder, death, graphic violence, mental health, postpartum depression, suicide, cancer, drug mention, parent death, medical, euthanasia mention, stalking, guns

THE FOG CREEPS IN ; GIRLHOOD IS A GRAVEYARD

THE ODDS ARE STACKED AGAINST HER ; A GIRL LEARNS TO COUNT CARDS

SPRING RETURNS TO PORTLAND ; THE FROST CLINGS TO FRAGILE BONES

DEATH RATTLES AND DYING BREATH ; THE GIRL’S OTHER SHOE DROPS

HACKLES RAISED, A GIRL LEARNS THE DANGERS OF BEING FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE

A FINAL GIRL IS FORGED ALONE ; THERE IS NO SUBVERTING FATE

LOVE IS A HARD KNIFE ; A GIRL CAN’T STOMACH AMBROSIA

A GIRL AND HER DOG; SOMETIMES PEACE IS ITS OWN KIND OF PRISON

#neve bio #i'm trying to post bios with links without driving myself crazy #or having huge long posts that drive Y'ALL crazy

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Noughts + Crosses: Why You Should Watch This Afrofuturist Alternate History Romance

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

Long before writer Malorie Blackman conceived of the story of the Doctor and her companions meeting civil rights hero Rosa Parks in Doctor Who’s “Rosa,” she imagined another alternate version of history and racism. Noughts + Crosses, the BBC and Mammoth Screen-produced series based on Blackman’s bestselling U.K. YA book series of the same name, is making its U.S. debut on Peacock Friday, and it’s likely already on many a hardcore Whovian’s radar. However, for the rest of the American viewing public, this may be the first time you’re hearing of Noughts + Crosses. Or not. Last week, Peacock dropped a not-great U.S. trailer for the show, causing some controversy on social media, and alienating some of the audience most likely to watch this show. Here’s why Black viewers and science fiction dystopia fans should consider giving Noughts + Crosses a chance…

What Is Noughts & Crosses?

First published in the UK in 2001, and in the U.S. in 2005, Noughts & Crosses tells the story of a dystopian alternate reality version of the U.K. (here, called Albion). In the Noughts & Crosses universe, people of African descent are called “Crosses” and people of European descent are called “Noughts.” The Crosses control the government and use the legal and economic system to oppress the Noughts. The main character of the novel series is Sephy Hadley (Masali Baduza, in the series), a Cross who is in a relationship with Callum McGregor (Jack Rowan), a Nought. Through this relationship, she begins to realize that the society she lives in is hell for those who don’t look like her. The story continues across five books, as the characters fight to end the institutionalized racism in Albion.

As a long time follower of British television and a Carribbean-American wanting more Black representation, Noughts + Crosses first appeared on my radar almost two years ago after the first press release. It is incredibly rare to see adaptations of Black British writers on U.K. TV, and even rarer still to see Black talent both behind and in front of the camera. (Black writers Lydia Adetunji and Nathaniel Price and Black biracial writer Rachel De-lahay worked on the series, though the head writer was originally white writer Toby Whithouse, who ended up leaving before the end of the season because he wasn’t “clicking with the material,” according to Variety.) I quickly found the book series used online and was blown away by the complexity of the narrative. Afterwards, I wished I had been able to read the series as a kid or teenager because I would have found characters who mirrored me and could have helped me as I was struggling with my identity. I watched the U.K. airing of the Noughts + Crosses series online in March, and had an even more visceral reaction to the story after seeing the adaptation bring the characters to life.

Blackman wrote the series at a time when white stories such as the Harry Potter series and other books dominated the YA market, both in the U.K. and in the U.S. With Noughts & Crosses, Millennial and Gen Z Black and POC British kids finally had heroes that looked like themselves. Later books in the series depict the struggle of growing up biracial in a society that refuses to accept your identity. Blackman’s novels outside of the series continued to depict Black kids and teens front and center in U.K. YA fiction. Although recent series The Hunger Games, Divergent, and The Maze Runner made dystopian YA fiction popular, these stories presented societies which were dominated by white European/American cultural aesthetics. Black characters in these stories, such as Rue from The Hunger Games, were often reduced to serving the plot points of white or white-coded characters. And, when the most popular of YA dystopia series got a big-screen adaptation, the few characters who were described as Black or POC in the books were often whitewashed by film casting.

The show’s target audience in the U.K. was the now-adults or teenagers who read the books in school as kids or tweens. However, for whatever reason, the Noughts & Crosses books series never had the same popularity in the U.S., which means Peacock can’t bank on the same nostalgia or existing audience knowledge as the BBC could. Most prospective American audiences, including Black viewers and/or dystopian fiction fans who might like this series, are learning about Noughts + Crosses for the first time through Peacock’s marketing. This is a problem because the recently released Peacock trailer for Noughts + Crosses misrepresents the complexity of this series in some unfortunate ways.

Breaking Down The Noughts + Crosses Peacock Trailer Reaction

Peacock dropped the the U.S. version of the Noughts + Crosses trailer last week, and it was picked up and promoted on Black media sites like Roc Nation. The promo immediately garnered criticism in a way that the U.K. promo, released earlier this year in the lead up to the series’ U.K. premiere back in March, did not. Although the Peacock trailer uses many of the same clips and stills as the UK trailer does, overall, it presents a much more plot-driven view of Noughts + Crosses, which doesn’t give justice to the series’ complex, Afrofuturist worldbuilding an thematic nuance.

Featuring more upbeat music than the U.K. trailer, and the title card “What if Africa colonized Europe?,” the U.S. trailer invited some to question why everyone was speaking English (instead of a fictional or existing African language). Others challenged the Eurocentric styling of the show. The overly-simplistic “What if Africa colonized Europe?” tagline caused hundreds of potential Black to express their displeasure with the promo, as many people believe African civilizations would not have replicated the cruelty of colonization and chattel slavery. While these critiques are valid and logical, and may be especially heightened concerns for anyone who is unfamiliar with the source material, some criticism actively questioned Blackman’s creative choices in ways that misunderstands her intention, which is to encourage readers and (eventually, with the TV adaptation) viewers to question learned and subconscious racial bias.

Observing the negative reaction on social media over the Peacock trailer, there are parallels to the controversies over Netflix’s Les Mignonnes/Cuties. Both are pieces of visual media representing parts of the global Black Diaspora. Both suffered when U.S. networks created sensationalist promotional material and removed the cultural context necessary to ease questions and concerns from American audiences. Although viewers should definitely hold American studios accountable for distorting the work of Black creatives, at the same time, American audiences also cannot place unfair expectations on Black creatives from the international diaspora to reflect African-American culture in media that is primarily targeted towards representing their community of origin. The Black Diaspora is multi-faceted and global. Some creators choose to adapt their stories to Black American history and culture, others don’t, and that isn’t necessarily an expression of bias or ignorance. We don’t expect U.K. police procedurals on Amazon Prime to reflect American culture; we should view Black-centric genre stories like Noughts + Crosses through the same cross-cultural lens.

Why You Should Give Noughts + Crosses a Chance

From the Peacock trailer, Noughts + Crosses may look like an uninspired and overly simplistic narrative exercise in racial role reversal, but, while this isn’t a perfect series, there is a lot to champion and appreciate about this series. Although the framing of Albion society might make viewers believe all of the Cross characters are villains and all the Noughts heroes, there is much more nuance to the plot. The series’ presentation of power dynamics blends the institutional and the personal. There are Cross characters complicit with the government and others who are trying to carve out their own way in life. While some eventually question their role in society, they never reject their Black culture. On the Nought side, Callum and the other Nought characters are fully fleshed out and defined by more than just their struggle. Their plot points are often used to facilitate discussions about cultural assimilation, micro-aggressions, and police brutality, but there are also events that flesh out character developments on other fronts. Classic YA literature themes, such as friendship, bullying, and family pressure, are just as important here as the plots dealing with radicalization and passive vs. active resistance of oppression.

As the “+” in the show’s title might suggest, Sephy and Callum’s romance is at the heart of the series. Blackman called Noughts + Crosses “my version of Romeo and Juliet,” and most fans talk about how the Sephy/Callum relationship grows and how much they root for them to stay together throughout the series. During the U.K. airing, there were thousands of tweets about how soft and adorable Sephy and Callum are, a characterization that offsets some of the heavier themes in the show. Albion’s world, of course, brings complications that the average high school romance would never have to go through, but their relationship still has romantic escapist elements are so rarely represented on TV, especially in the form of interracial couples.

Why Noughts + Crosses’ Worldbuilding Matters

At a time when Black audiences are demanding more cultural visibility across media—and the popularity of Afrofuturist media (e.g. stories that explore the intersection of African diaspora culture with technology) continues to grow—the Noughts + Crosses series breaks genre conventions by presenting a distinctly Afrofuturist dystopian society on mainstream television. Previous Afrofuturist works are often designed to create a utopian alternate reality where Black culture is presented in a prideful and optimistic fashion. Because of this, some may interpret an Afrofuturist dystopia as an insult to Black culture, but the point of science and dystopian fiction is to build new worlds while holding up a mirror to our own. Albion isn’t dystopian because of African-inspired culture; it is dystopian because of the government’s failure to treat all of its citizens equally.

The world of Albion is at the heart of the mostly positive U.K. reviews for Noughts + Crosses. The series makes a conscious change from the books by using a more deliberate Afrofuturist approach to scenery and design. Albion in the books was described like modern London and surrounding areas. Blackman said in an interview for the BBC about these changes: “The celebration of African culture in myriad forms gives a different sensibility to what has been on TV before.” Noughts & Crosses was filmed in South Africa, and several cast members are from the country. One of the directors Koby Adom is also Black which is exceedingly rare for UK TV productions. Traditional fashions from the Xhosa and other tribal groups are melded to create an Afrofuturist landscape where the audience can feel in awe of the scenery. Braids, afros, dreads, and colorful headwraps complement dresses and suits adapted from various African cultures.

Past Afrofuturism, the airing of Noughts + Crosses on the BBC spotlighted Black British music, fashions, and experience were front and center on a network that is, more often than not, overwhelmingly white and where Black actors who are visible are often reduced to token roles that strip them of their cultural identities. (Rapper and activist Stormzy, whose music is featured in Doctor Who’s “Arachnids in the U.K.,” even appears as a guest star in one of the later episodes.) This visibility no doubt contributed to the success of the program in the UK.

In July, the BBC announced after UK Black Lives Matter protests a pledge to spend £100 million ($132 million) on racially diverse programming. Noughts + Crosses which completed filming in 2019 is frequently cited in the press as an example for future U.K., which is one of the reasons Black British fans of the series (as well as international fans) are celebrating the show’s release in America: success here would bolster the chances of BBC greenlighting the adaptation of the second book in Blackman’s series, Knife Edge. In an effort to support the show, some U.K. fans even posted explainers to address the Peacock trailer controversy.

Fans are understandably nervous that the U.S. trailer will keep American audiences, who already have a lot to watch on many different platforms, from giving the show a fair shot. As U.S. networks and streaming services are increasingly using U.K. shows to fill programming gaps in every genre, the success of Noughts + Crosses has the potential to influence future license deals for producing racially diverse and cutting edge television. And, as Blackman put it in an interview for the BBC. “What I would like to see are more comedies, thrillers, mysteries, love stories and whodunits that feature black characters in starring roles. There is room for everyone.”

Most Americans, potentially aside from Doctor Who fans and a few Anglophiles such as myself, have no knowledge of Noughts & Crosses, or of Malorie Blackman. If Americans gave Noughts & Crosses a chance, they’re not only in for a dramatic, romantic ride, but are hopefully helping to pave the way for more Black creatives to tell fictional stories inspired by the Black diaspora on both U.K. and U.S. screens.

The post Noughts + Crosses: Why You Should Watch This Afrofuturist Alternate History Romance appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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