#He has pretty long blonde hair come on caldwell please

[rooolt]

Caldwell saying he didn’t think Zirk is that attractive killing biting gnashing he’s so hot to me

[adventsys]

Star, the Mousy Musician

Basics:

Name: Aurora Von Brandt

Aliases: Star (preferred), Starr, Aura (also preferred, but conflicts with Sirius)

Race: Mousefolk

Gender: Cisgender female

Pronouns: She/her/hers, (may begin using squeak/squeaks/squeakself in the near future)

System Roles: Host, Motivator

Sign Emote: 🐭🎸 | :mouse::guitar:

System Join Date: 2020 - 01 - 11 (January 11th, 2020)

System Celebration Date: 02 - 05

Background:

Origin: (accidental) tulpamancy; possibly technically an introject

Bio: Originally an original character created by Storm, for their TTRPG project in its more infantile stages, two or so years ago (May 2019). She was accidentally created alongside Sylvie, Maya, and Onyx, where Sylvie was the only intentional creation of the four.

Canon Bio: Canonically, Star’s mother died while she was in middle school (jr. high) in a car crash, and during her late teens, her father went to jail for tax fraud, leaving her alone in their apartment for the foreseeable future until he returns. At the same time, she is going to school— the reason why her father committed tax fraud— for a Bachelor’s of Science in Mechanical Engineering and a dual minor in both classical art and robotics. She plans to go to grad school to get a Master’s degree, but she is unsure what her financial situation will be by the time she gets her Bachelor’s degree. She currently has a job designing and building factory robots for a living, which she got fairly recently, but only after interning since her first year of college. Additionally, she plays guitar, bass, and violin, and has released three albums, an EP, and five singles to the internet, amassing a small crowd of a couple thousand fans. In her hometown, she plays weekend gigs at bars and clubs, and sometimes holiday gigs at parks, primarily for some extra cash, but also for fun and spreading her name. Finally, canonically, she is afraid of cats.

Canon Abilities: Eye of Space, which allows her to measure distance, mass, sizes, density, etc. all with a glance, down to the atom. Metallokinesis, which allows her to control any metal at will, but the denser, less pure, or more radioactive a metal is, the more difficult it can be to control.

Elaborated Basics:

“Canon” Age: 23

Apparent Age: 19

“Physical” Age: 19 to 21

Mental Age: 19 probably

System Age: 1 year, 8 months (as of post)

Dating:

Romantic Orientation: Sapphic panromantic

Sexual Orientation: Sapphic demisexual

Intra-system partners: (Check call sheet)

Exo-system partners: Eden of FARAWAY Bunch (gf)

Acknowledged Crushes: None

Attracted to: fellow extranths/anthros, herbivorous animals, fellow mice; friendly people; “cuteness” and “prettiness” (rather than “beauty” or “handsomeness”); chess lovers, music lovers, and roleplayers; cheese enthusiasts.

Additional Notes: Polyfidelitous, but not as active as Charlotte; in a strictly monogamous relationship currently.

Boundaries:

DNI: All the system DNIs (they’re mine, after all), but also...

DMs: Ask for Discord, Tumblr OK.

Mentions / Pings: Try not to, but OK.

PDA: No.

Flirting: No, my girlfriend would like for me to stay monogamous externally.

Compliments / Platonic Affection: Always welcome. Love me some head pats.

System Outing: Tumblr OK.

LGBTQ+ Outing: Tumblr and Discord OK.

Venting: Discord DMs only, but try to vent towards Storm please, I’m fragile.

Personality:

Summary: Chirpy and fanatical; loves tinkering, machinery, and robotics, and canonically it’s her job. She’s a bit obsessed with rock music, too. Aurora is someone who likes to make things fun for everyone, and make everyone smile, even at the expense of her own schedule, but she doesn’t mind. She feels that, whatever she can do, can always be done eventually. And when it comes to romance, it’s easy to flirt with her, but hard to convince her of something. Can be a little fragile and sensitive at times, so be kind to her.

Likes: chess, food (cheese primarily), video games, roleplay, writing, rock music, indie music, alternative music, MCR (and I’m proud of it), guitars, Green Day.

Dislikes: tapioca pudding, tomatoes, selfish people, horror.

Extra Notes: She diverges from her canon slightly: she is not afraid of cats anymore, due to the presence of Sirius.

Appearance:

[Attachment IDs:

Art not owned by us, drawn by Pollo-chan on FurAffinity (original OC for the commission is named Esel Caldwell and also not owned by us); an image of a white-furred, feminine-presenting mouse anthro with long, straight blonde hair, against a plain white background. She is wearing a white button-down blouse under a black high-waisted skirt with shoulder straps, brown translucent stockings, and brown hiking boots. Her right hand is up grabbing the teal-green beret on her head, while her left hand is mostly obscured to her left side, behind her.

Picrew by Eefoj; primarily a navy blue background with a large central white square. A blonde-haired, feminine-presenting, white-furred, mouse anthro wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants. Her feet are bare; she is plantigrade. Her legs are spread; her left leg is arched upwards with her foot planted on the floor, while her right leg is parallel with the floor. Her left hand is placed on the floor behind her, supporting her, while her right hand is idle on the lap of her right leg.

/end IDs]

[gifted-burnout-archive]

Vices (Part Five)

Word Count: 3.0K+

Author’s Note: Look, I am know that using gifs of Spencer Reid looking fine as fuck with his long locks and facial hair is probably why you clicked on this story in the first place, but joke’s on you because I knew you’d do it before you did. What I’m saying is I have watched so much criminal minds I think I’m now apart of the BAU. Enjoy this chapter, prepare for an escalation with the next one.

Warning: Honestly, nothing too triggering in this one. Enjoy not being mentally scarred!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary:  As Dr Reid reaches three years sober, a case comes to the BAU that his old vice Dilaudid plays a key role in – the only witness to the murders is a young woman who abuses the drug to forget. Can Spencer break through to her and catch their killer before he strikes again?

Read ‘Vices (Part One)’ here, ‘Vices (Part Two)’ here, ‘Vices (Part Three)’ here, and ‘Vices (Part Four)’ here. Explore the Masterlist here.

Part Six is up now! Read it here.

--

Over the course of the following twelve hours, Y/N was kept under constant surveillance by the BAU and LAPD. It was a safety precaution, just until they caught the Cali Slasher, but Y/N found the constant company rather comforting. It took her mind away from the cravings, experiencing a normal life for the first time in years. It was like, just for that twelve hours or so, like she wasn’t who she was.

Rossi took over from Morgan, spending the evening with Y/N, teaching her how to make pasta from scratch, paired with a delicious grape soda, upon Reid’s request. The last thing the doctor wanted was for Y/N to find a new dependency. Then, Garcia spent the night, and when Y/N couldn’t sleep the pair watched Audrey Hepburn movies. They both fell asleep halfway through Funny Face, waking to the sound of the doorbell at 6 am, Garcia greeting Hotch at the door in fuzzy pink pyjamas and her hair still in curlers.

“Penelope.” Hotch greeted, walking into the house’s foyer, looking over at Y/N, who was tidying up from their night of cinema. “They need you back at the precinct, contacting old neighbours and relatives of past victims.” He said quietly, and Garcia excused herself to go get ready, leaving Hotch and Y/N alone.

“Would you like something to drink?” Y/N spoke first, making her last trip to the kitchen, and placing the last of the dishes into the dishwasher before turning it on.

“I brought us both breakfast. It’s in the car.” Hotch responded, silence filling the air again. The pair couldn’t manage to look at one another directly, and only when Garcia was about to leave did Hotch speak up once more, excusing himself to fetch the aforementioned breakfast.

“Take care, my love.” Garcia pulled Y/N into a tight hug, the younger woman left a little unsure by the action before hugging back. It felt nice, such a level of intimacy, of compassion. Like the BAU actually cared about her.

Garcia disappeared to the waiting car, Hotch coming back in with two cups of coffee and a small bag of pastries, setting them on the kitchen counter.

“I want to say sorry.” He spoke up, rather out of the blue, causing Y/N to look over. “On behalf of the BAU and LAPD… Had we caught the man who did this to you sooner, you would have never been in this situation to begin with.”

“Are you going to catch him this time?” Y/N asked after a moment of thought, the BAU unit chief looking up to meet her eyes for the first time in twelve years.

“Yes.”

“Then there is nothing to apologise for.” Y/N said decidedly. “I’m going to change.” She added on, looking down at her pyjamas and slippers.

“I’ll warm up the croissants.” Hotch offered, and with a nod from the young woman his team were trying so desperately to redeem, Hotch made himself busy in the kitchen, and Y/N headed to the bedroom, the first time in years a smile settling onto her face with little intention of moving anytime soon.

Meanwhile, at LAPD Headquarters, JJ, Prentiss, Morgan and Rossi were interviewing relatives of previous victims, looking for connections between the murdered girls and Y/N, while Garcia and Reid were trying to narrow a multi-county search. The team was in full swing, Rossi relaying any possible leads to Hotch via text.

By 2pm, Hotch switched out with Detective Caldwell and Officer Gomez, the pair taking the few belongings Y/N had managed to keep with them. Hotch gathered the team after a morning of interviews, looking to share on what they got from the relatives and neighbours. So many grieving souls, hoping for closure no one was certain would come, but it seemed that Hotch, after spending a few hours with Y/N, had received the boost in drive needed to close the case once and for all, much like the rest of the team had.

“Garcia.” Hotch said, alerting the tech analyst to begin the presentation. All the responses that the team had compiled that morning and early afternoon had been filtered into an algorithm set up by the tech savvy blonde genius, looking for key phrases, words used excessively to describe the teen girls who met a horrid fate, a chart coming up on the screen.

“Ok, so, from all the statements made by relatives, I gathered key words, finding that all the girls were most commonly described as ‘beautiful, ‘kind’, and ‘funny’, which does nothing to narrow down our search.” Garcia sighed, but Reid seemed intrigued by the word bubble on screen.

“Garcia, of the 12 girls, were there any similarities in schools? Look specifically at Y/N and Rachel Durham?” Reid asked, and Garcia pulled out her laptop, tapping away for a few moments.

“Within our comfort zone, the twelve girls are split across three different high schools: South Pasadena, Franklin and White Hill.” Garcia stated. “Rachel Durham and Y/N attended different high schools.”

“Could you tell me what the most commonly used words were to describe the last three victims from twelve years ago?” Reid asked again, the team intrigued to see where he was going with this. Again, Garica tapped away, the image on the screen changing.

“This time it’s ‘smart, ‘beautiful’, and ‘bright’.” Garcia concluded.

“Do we still have the families out there of Rachel and Lesley?” Reid asked, JJ nodding, heading out to collect the aunt of Rachel Durham and the close family friends of Lesley Bradshaw.

“Elise Durham, Frank and Martha Hold, this is the BAU. Dr Reid has some questions to ask you about Lesley and Rachel, please take a seat.” JJ introduced the team, the three adults sitting down, rather intimidated by the FBI agents surrounding them.

“Mrs Durham, Mr and Mrs Hold, you both described Rachel and Lesley in very similar ways, may I ask why you talked so much about the intelligence of the girls?” Reid asked, the three looking at the young agent for a moment before Elise spoke up.

“Our Rachel was a very bright young woman. Took after my brother, wanted to go into Sciences. She received extra work through the school for computer science, part of the robotics club.” Elise explained, tearing up. Morgan was quick to hand over a tissue.

“Lesley was similar, but her focus was biology…” Frank explained, looking at Elise with a mixture of shock and confusion. “She was part of a program for it, wanted to become a doctor, discover vaccines. She talked about it all the time.”

“When you say program, what do you mean?” Hotch asked, arms folded.

“Well, she was very excited about getting into it, it happened about a month before she passed… Some university program that the local schools helped to run.” Frank explained, and Prentiss nodded.

“Thank you so much for staying.” She said, opening the door for them to file out.

“Will this help find the man who did this?” Elise asked before she left, and Emily smiled.

“We hope so.” Once the door had shut, Reid glanced over at Garcia.

“Twelve years ago, Caltech launched a brand new program to encourage girls into STEM careers. University professors would tutor participants on weekends, as well as assign them AP level school work, with the hope being that participants would get some sort of scholarship to Caltech once they graduated high school.” Garcia sighed. “All three high schools in the comfort zone were a part of the program…”

“So, our unsub is a university professor?” Morgan asked, and Reid grabbed his coat.

“Only one way to find out. I would suggest you all head over to Caltech, I’ll talk to Y/N.”

“Reid,” Hotch called out, stopping the doctor for a moment, “Keep your phone on.”

“I’ll see you soon.” Reid replied, rushing out the door to jump in an SUV, speeding towards the safehouse.

--

“Caldwell, Gomez, Knowles will be needing you. We think we have a lead.” Y/N heard a familiar voice at the door, followed by the sounds of Caldwell and Gomez rushing out to the awaiting car, and finally the front door closing. She had been in the middle of tidying up a board game Gomez had convinced her and Caldwell to play, looking up as Dr Spencer Reid rounded the corner.

“Everything ok?” She asked, placing the game back on the shelf it had been brought from, looking back at the doctor, who took a moment to catch his breath. When he didn’t respond right away, Y/N walked over to him, placing a shaky hand on his arm. “Dr Reid, you’re scaring me a little.”

“Y/N, what subject did you do exceedingly well in at school?” Spencer asked, moving her to sit down on the couch. Y/N raised an eyebrow at the question, confused by why he asked, but decided to indulge him.

“I… I was really good at maths. Took AP level classes in my freshman year.” She responded.

“Were those AP level classes part of a program based at Caltech?” Reid asked again, and Y/N let out a happy laugh.

“Yeah, it was a Women in STEM program the university just began to run.” She stopped for a moment, her eyebrows furrowing, her smile fading, and a voice yelling in the back of her head began:

Don’t go any further. Forget instead.

Y/N pulled her feet onto the couch, beginning to scratch at them over her slippers.

“Why… Why do you ask, Pretty Boy?” Her voice wavered, and Reid’s face turned to one of concern, of pity, of worry.

“Y/N, there was a professor in the program who took interest in you. Tutored you…” Spencer said softly, placing his hand on top of hers. “Who was he?”

With a single question, years of denial and illusion were shattered.

Memories Y/N had repressed of her weekends at Caltech, of family dinners with her tutor, of his smile, his voice, his eyes. Those green eyes that haunted her nightmares had been the same ones so invested in her future, in her. Six months of her life spent getting to know the man, of learning under him, of preparing for her future with his help, it was all overshadowed by a truth Y/N had fought so hard to forget, so desperately to rid herself of.

“Dr Adrian Black…” She whispered, staring into space as a single tear rolled down her cheek. With a name, Reid jumped up from the couch, dialling Garcia’s number.

“Garcia, I need you to find all the information you can on Doctor Adrian Black, he’s a professor at Caltech. I think he’s our unsub.” Reid said quickly, hanging up the phone for a photo to appear a few moments later on his screen. “Y/N, is this him?” He asked the shocked girl, now curled up on the couch. “Y/N.” He said again, placing his hand on top of hers, bringing her back down to earth. Y/N looked over, her eyes taking a moment to adjust before finally focusing on the picture displayed on Dr Reid’s phone.

The picture of her rapist. Of her parents’ killer. A picture of the man who had ruined her life, sparkling green eyes and all.

“It’s him.” 

With confirmation, Reid phoned back Garcia, calling for an APB to be put out on the doctor, and for as many officers that could be spared to be sent to Caltech. The bastard lived on campus.

There were few things that made Reid sick to his stomach, but the more he looked at the photo, the more he came to realise that he had met the unsub before. In fact, they had worked together.

During Spencer’s six year span at Caltech, from the ages of 13 to 19, he had worked alongside some of the greatest minds in the US to obtain his doctorates in Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering. It was undeniable that Reid was a genius, the young man working beside men and women twice his age. Men like Doctor Adrian Black, who asked Reid to co-write one of his Mathematics lectures when Reid was 19.

The same year Black was raping and murdering girls.

The same year Black raped Y/N and murdered her parents.

There were few things that made Reid sick to his stomach, but looking at the sole survivor of a man he assisted all those years ago, it made the young doctor nauseous.

“... Reid?” Spencer snapped back to reality as Y/N called on him, the young woman looking concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Sorry, what was your question?” He asked, and Y/N let out a sweet giggle. In spite of everything, Y/N had managed to giggle at the FBI Agent’s faux pas, surprising both parties.

“I was just asking if you need to be with your team?” She said once more, stood on the far side of the kitchen, pulling out a few items that were what Reid could only assume would create dinner.

“What? No, not a chance.” Reid stood up from the couch, heading over to the kitchen, examining the ingredients: dried pasta, onions, tomatoes, bacon. It was more than obvious that Rossi had been there the night before.

“I mean, you solved the case.” Y/N pointed out, hesitating for a moment before lifting the knife into her hand and beginning to chop the tomatoes.

“I think Hotch knows best to keep me here… I don’t really know what I’d do if I came face to face with… Him.” The last word dripped off Spencer’s tongue with such malice it caused Y/N to look up.

“You don’t seem like the murdering type, Pretty Boy.” She commented, pausing her food preparation to look up at him, to try and profile the profiler. 

“I’m not… But when men like him do things like that…” Reid started, his fists clenched in anger, only to loosen upon a hand settling gently on his wrist.

“They face justice…” She reminded him. “Now, Pretty Boy, why don’t you chop up an onion for us while I put the pasta on to boil?” She suggested, turning her back to him and beginning to busy herself at the stove, boiling a pot of water and adding in half a bag of penne pasta. Reid watched her for a moment, quite in awe of her calm demeanour, before following instruction, beginning to chop the last of the tomatoes and the onion into small slices.

The pair worked together without much talk shared, and as Reid stirred together the last ingredients of the sauce, Y/N set the dining room table for two, taking a moment to glance out the window onto the lamplit street. She had never really felt safe in homes like this after what happened, but for the first time, Y/N didn’t feel the need to close the curtains and hide away; didn’t feel a need to triple check all the doors were locked, all the windows bolted. It was, of course, due to the BAU finally being on their way to catch Dr Black, but in that house, she smiled as her feeling of security walked through the archway, two plates of pasta in his hands, a smile on his face.

“Rossi’s recipes are unbeatable.” Reid stated, setting down the two plates before pulling out a chair for Y/N. She sat down, and only once she was comfortable did Spencer take his own seat.

“I’ll need to pester him for more. I don’t think I’ve even cracked the surface.” She smiled, the pair taking a moment before turning back to their food and beginning to eat. Y/N’s appetite had been all over the place, and while a part of her would refuse, she was hungry, and she wanted to eat. Dr Reid had even made a conscious effort to serve her a smaller portion of food, with the hopes being she would be able to eat it all.

About halfway through dinner, Y/N looked up from her plate, glad she had managed to eat a fair amount of her meal, and took a moment to look at the doctor, who was eating so quickly she wouldn’t be surprised if he had simply forgotten to eat before then that day.

“Dr Reid.” Y/N grabbed his attention, Reid taking a moment to swallow and wipe his mouth with a serviette.

“Please, call me Spencer.” He insisted, and Y/N smiled.

“Spencer... “ Y/N corrected herself, causing the doctor to smile. “There’s something that’s been bugging me for the past few days, I was hoping you could provide an answer.”

“With an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187, I can give it my best shot.” Reid said with a grin.

“What are you a doctor in?”

“Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering.”

“Then how is it you know so much about Dilaudid?” Y/N asked, the pair locking eyes as Spencer thought over his answer. He wasn’t quite sure what to say, instead reaching up and pulling his new good luck token from his shirt pocket. And while he was, indeed, too clever to believe in luck coming from a piece of engraved metal, everything about holding it just felt right. He placed it on the table and slid it over to Y/N, who picked the token up with curiosity.

“3 months?” She asked, and Reid shook his head.

“3 years…”

“Congratulations.” She smiled, flipping the coin over through her fingers, just like Spencer did, before handing it back.

“Take it.” Reid blurted, his eyes going wide as he said it, Y/N’s expression copying his own. But after a moment, he knew he meant the words, and continued. “When I… When I first started going to meetings, one of my bosses’ gave me his one year chip… Take it as a celebration of 3 days, you can give it back to me when you hit 3 years as well.” He urged, taking her hands in his own and closing them around the cool metal coin.

“You’re sure I’ll get there?” Y/N seemed wary, but Reid nodded, moving his hands back to his cutlery, continuing to eat his dinner. Y/N smiled, taking another moment to look over the coin before setting it beside her, picking up her fork and making an active effort to finish the food they had prepared together.

--

Tags: @alliyjane @gia-kerks @thatsonezesty13 @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @bethanyb1110 @mjloveskids666 @studentdying3267 @rottenearly @spencerreidisdaddy @ladyravenclaw @britishspidey @random-thoughts-003 @sungieeeeeee @darlingg77 @perverted-guardian-angel @lapietadi @nagaindcsiar @lotties-journey-abroad

[hdgaywriting]

Eighth Year - Drarry Fic Part 2

Draco Malfoy sneered and said "Potter" in the same chilling voice as always. Harry looked Draco up and down, noticing the long, lean lines of his body. The surprise of running into his longtime nemesis made Harry stumble dumbly, and he needed a minute to recuperate.

"Malfoy," Harry replied, mustering up all the menace he could. Hostility had always come between the two boys, but it felt magnified now that Malfoy's father was in prison, and Harry knew that Draco blamed him. But Harry knew what it felt like to be without a father (or a mother) and somewhere deep down he almost felt sorry for Draco. Harry still very much blamed Mr. Malfoy for ending up in Azkaban, but he felt bad that Draco had to suffer because of it. For the first time since he knew Malfoy, he had a moment of realization: they both lost in the Battle of Hogwarts.

"Are you going to move?" Draco asked, his gray eyes aflame. Harry started to shift his body against the wall of the small corridor, making room for Draco to pass. Draco scoffed and took a step forward, only to be stopped by Harry's arm suddenly placed in front of his chest, blocking the way.

"Malfoy..." he started. He swallowed his pride and decided to try to meet Draco halfway. What was there to fight about now? "Draco," he said. Saying his nemesis' first name felt sacrilegious. He noticed Draco pull his chin in towards his chest, clearly surprised. "Have a good year..." Harry finished and moved aside.

"Whatever," Draco mumbled as he shoved himself forward. Harry didn't know what to make of his reaction, but the important thing was that he tried. What he really wanted to tell the blonde boy was that he saw how much he was hurting. Harry would never say he was sorry for taking a part in the war, but he understood that Draco's life couldn't be easy right now. In fact, he almost wanted to say he was happy that Draco was returning. With all the changes sure to come this year, having his age-old rival to pull pranks on sparked a bit of joy.

By the time Harry returned to his cabin, he had reminded himself of just how vile Malfoy could be. He smiled to himself remembering their third year when he'd had the privilege to see Hermione sock him in the nose. She knocked that grimy smile right off his alabaster face.

The next time Harry opened his eyes they were pulling up to Hogwarts. He quickly changed into his robes. The students were filing off the train, some clearly excited, and others clearly worried. A loud booming voice carried over the crowd. Harry looked up to see Hagrid's large, shiny face. He grabbed Ginny's hand and immediately started pushing through the crowd to see his friend.

"Harry!" Hagrid exclaimed when their eyes met. "Harry, it's s'good to see ya!" the half-giant boomed. Large tears started to run down his face as Harry ran to hug him.

"Hagrid! We've done it, we've made it back to Hogwarts!" was all he could say. Hagrid was really the beginning of Harry's wizarding experience, and it felt right that he was the first person to greet him.

"Blimey, Harry, I didn't even know you was comin' back to Hogwarts." A pang of guilt rang through Harry. He really had forgotten to tell Hagrid about his return. Harry spent a large part of his time repressing anything related to Hogwarts or Voldemort since the Battle of Hogwarts. He was diligent about recovering.

"Yeah, sorry about that, Hagrid," Harry apologized. "It just slipped my mind. I've been focused on, er, other things. Giving Hogwarts a bit of a rest..."

"Oh, don' worry 'bout me, Harry. Jus' try to have a good year." And with that, Hagrid gave them a final wink and turned back to directing the first years.

"Harry, Ginny, come on!" he heard Hermione yell. The couple walked back to Ron and Hermione. He quickly told them about running into Hagrid, and the four of them entered the front doors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

After getting settled in the Great Hall, all the students were restlessly awaiting the beginning of the sorting ceremony. First years were huddled up at the front, while the older students arranged themselves at their house tables. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were seated towards the front, but not too close. Hermione had made a comment earlier about protecting Harry. She was worried he'd be bothered by everyone, and bombarded with questions. What Harry was focused on at present was a nasty comment made by a Ravenclaw walking between the isles.

"All the Gryffindors sit there with a chip on their shoulder, as if we all didn't fight in that bloody battle. Every house participated, but the Gryffindors are the ones who take credit."

It was an older girl. Maybe a sixth year? Harry hadn't known her personally, but her pudgy face and clear glasses were familiar. "Oh, don't listen to them, Harry" Hermione said. He hadn't realized she'd caught the comment, too.

"I just don't want to be reminded of it all the time," Harry said. He looked down and fiddled with the scarlet table runner. Ron thumped his back, but didn't say anything. Ginny was too busy talking to her friends to have heard the comment. Something about the way Ginny was eating up the socialization and eyes on her rubbed him the wrong way. Over the summer, she had told Harry that maybe he should start feeling flattered by all of it. After all, he was the Chosen One, and he had lived. She acted as if defeating Voldemort was his claim to fame, rather than his life-or-death task. Ginny, who was pure and strong, refused to give anymore of her tears towards Voldemort's doings.

"Attention, students" McGonagall said. "We are about to begin the sorting ceremony, if you could please give your attention to the Sorting Hat, we may start at once."

The raggedy hat was placed on the same stool as always. What began as a flat, boring hat suddenly revealed its face. After what sounded like it clearing its throat (if hats even had throats?) it began:

Our Hogwarts kin

We will begin

To sort our youngest friends;

For I am the Sorting Hat,

I put your worries to an end.

This castle is historic

Its people are heroic,

What once was a site of blood that spilled

Has again become re-built.

Four houses stood to fight for us

And in the end, we won.

Four houses stand before all ye

So let's find where you belong.

Will you be in Hufflepuff,

The diligent, happy lot?

Their loyalty and work ethic

Make them a great spot.

Or will you be in Ravenclaw,

With the brightest wizard's you ever saw?

Their intelligence and cleverness

Sets them up for success.

Still there are more options,

More houses you may belong.

Like Slytherin, the snake-eyed stars,

Whose cunning minds make them strong.

Pure in blood and powerful,

This house is surely never dull.

Lastly we have Gryffindor,

The house of wit and strength.

Their bravery is unmatched

They've saved this castle's fate.

Once again, I will sort ye

To the house that you belong.

I read your mind, so rest assured

I couldn't sort you wrong.

The castle erupted into applause at the Sorting Hat's song. Ron and Harry were whooping as loud as they could while Hermione and Ginny laughed and yelled themselves.

"Accult, Amelia" McGonagall said once the hall quieted. A small girl walked forward. She sat happily on the stool and the headmistress placed the hat on her head.

"Hmmm," the hat said quietly. "Ought to be... RAVENCLAW!" The hall again burst out in cheers, mostly coming from the Ravenclaw table.

"Shame," Ginny said. She smiled at Harry and winked.

McGonagall went through several more names. So far, Gryffindor added Alvin, Patrick, Beau, Alivia, Bunson, Eliza, and Caldwell, Jensen to their house. The eleven year olds were swimming in their robes but seemed ecstatic to be here. One of them, Eliza Bunson, kept stealing glances at Harry. It made him awkward so he angled his body more towards his friends.

"Mate, look at the professor's table," Ron said, motioning with his hand. Harry looked up and scanned. He saw many familiar faces, and quite a few new ones. Professor Slughorn was still up there. Harry supposed he was to teach potions. He saw a professor he didn't recognize at all, sitting where Professor Mcgonagall used to sit. Could this be the new Head of Gryffindor House? Now that he thought about it, Slytherin House needed a new head as well. The students were about to meet the new Defense against the Dark Arts and Transformation teachers, he thought.

The woman in Professor McGonagall's old spot was very pretty. She had straight, very shiny black hair and a soft angelic face. Harry couldn't help but wonder if she was even old enough to teach here. She had bright blue eyes that contrasted her hair, and her skin was olive and warm.

A boring looking man was in Professor Severus Snape's old spot. It hurt Harry too much to look where Snape should have been, so he didn't get a good look. All he knew was that the new guy had dirty blonde hair and a stain on his cloak. He had wire glasses that made his eyes seem over large as well.

Once the last student, Zillia, Makenna was sorted into Slytherin, McGonagall made her way to the podium again. She made a candid speech about the spirit of progress and the essence of magic that Harry tuned out most of. He was sure it was good though, judging by everyone else's reactions and the atmosphere he felt. He even saw the Hogwarts ghosts and Peeves the Poltergeist nod their heads in respect and agreement. What caught his attention was McGonagall's voice saying it was time for "introductions in an age of new beginning."

"Miss Penelope Hart," she said, motioning to the pretty witch. "Our new professor of Magical Combat and Defense, which was formerly known as Defense against the Dark Arts, as well as Head of my own house, Gryfinndor." She paused for claps and cheers from the Gryfinndor table before continuing. "Professor Hart has studied at the Academy of Magical Defense in Colombia, and interned with the Department of Strategic Magical Combat in the Magical Congress of the United States of America before she went on to shadow magical professors at Ilvermorny school. She moved to London a few years ago and we're lucky to have her." McGonagall's face was glowing, like she personally plucked the needle out of a metaphorical haystack.

Professor Hart stood up and looked over the crowd of students. "Come to me with any questions," she said. Her voice was warm and soft. "I travel a lot, I go back and forth from here to London to see my wife. And yes, I did attend Hogwarts as a little girl. I didn't graduate here, but I spent years 1-3 here before moving to Colombia with my family. I have lots of experience and would love to talk to you."

"Yes, of course. We're very excited for you, Miss Hart." McGonagall said again, smiling. "Next, let's welcome Professor Noah Hobb, head of Slytherin House, and our new Transfiguration Expert." The lines around her mouth were tight, Harry noticed. He never thought McGonagall would give up being the Transfiguration teacher, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and McGonagall was the perfect replacement for Dumbledore. She went from being interim Headmistress to a permanent installment a few weeks after the Battle.

She continued, "Mr. Hobb is a Hogwarts graduate, published in peer-reviewed magical journals, and has a book on Transfiguration in the 21st Century.

The man awkwardly raised a hand then sat down, not paying much attention to the hall of students ogling him. Not too long after, the tables filled with a feast to top all feasts. Harry had never seen so many options, even at Hogwarts. He and Ron immediately started grabbing at the goodies in front of them. This food tasted like home. It seemed that every Hogwarts students was gorging themselves until they were left in a sleepy, stuffed coma.

When the students started filing out, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a handful of other eighth year students (including Draco Malfoy) waited back for the headmistress to show them their new home. Draco was all alone, walking by himself on the staircases and across the halls. His minions, Crabbe and Goyle, were gone. Goyle died in the Battle of Hogwarts, trying to hurt Harry and stop him from getting the horcrux in the room of requirement. Vincent Crabbe simply hadn't returned, Harry later learned. He was sick of school, which Harry thought odd, considering he never actually participated in classes. Pansy Parkinson was Draco's last friend, but even she was nowhere to be found.

When they reached a lavish corridor, McGonagall turned to them and said "pair off. You're adults, we feel you can decide amongst yourselves who to live with. The rooms are suite style, so there's a bedroom with two beds connected to a bathroom that will be shared with another bedroom with two beds. A lobby and living area are available as well." Pair off, Harry thought. Ron looked at him awkwardly. Harry didn't want to be responsible for making Ron choose between his best friend and his girlfriend. But he wouldn't know who else to live with. His second pick would be Hermione, and she was going to be with Ron! If only Ginny had been the same year as him, then she could be his roommate.

"Go on," Harry said to them, trying to come off as genuine. "I'll get the neighboring suite with whoever..." he looked around. Dean and Seamus paired off. Neville wasn't here, Luna was younger than Harry as well. Everybody else had cowered away from or bullied Harry his whole life. He hesitated too long, because before he knew it, only one git was left.

Draco Malfoy had anxiously looked around when the headmistress told them to pair off. Draco hadn't any friends, and he sure as hell wasn't going to make any new ones. This year his mother forced him to return to Hogwarts. She told him that it's his best shot. "Nobody will want to hire a Malfoy anymore, so don't give them more reason by not having a proper education." He needed that Hogwarts degree. He argued, saying his talent could speak for itself, but when Narcissa Malfoy looked at him and said "Draco, we've lost everything. My sister. Your father. Everything. Please, just don't make it worse" he realized how bad his situation actually was.

He had walked over to a meager looking boy and asked if they could room. The boy shook his head no without even giving an explanation. Nobody wants to be friends with a traitor... Draco thought. Hadn't they known he risked his life to save Harry? Just to give Hogwarts a fighting chance? He crossed lines, in the end. Papers slandered the Malfoy name all summer, framing Lucius as a traitor (fair enough) and Narcissa and Draco as cowards for leaving the Battle. The press even went as far as applauding the Malfoy family for losing his aunt Bellatrix. He never really liked her, but still...

After swallowing his pride and being rejected by a fellow eighth year, he shoved his pale fists in his pockets and waited for whoever was left. Unfortunately for Draco, the only one left was the absolute last person he wanted to room with.

"Oh, my..." McGonagall said when she realized the unfortunate luck. "Is there any last-minute changes you'd like to make." Her eyes flitted around the crowd as she tried to gently remedy the situation. Of course, nobody wanted to switch. Harry Potter was practically a bad luck charm, and everyone was pretty sure Draco Malfoy would trade your organs for cursed objects. Draco thought about Harry's attempt at kindness on the Hogwarts Express earlier. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. After all, there was a reason that Draco risked his life for Harry. Maybe Potter wouldn't be so insufferable this year. Nobody should have any more reason to call him the Chosen One, which really got under Draco's skin.

Harry on the other hand was thinking of different maneuvers to get out of it. If he talked to McGonagall she'd say nothing could be done... he couldn't stow away in Ron and Hermione's room all the time, but he could most of the time. He just couldn't bear to think of rooming with Draco flipping Malfoy for his final year at Hogwarts. Draco was a constant reminder of all the bad things the boys had been through. But then again, Harry supposed that meant Draco was the one person who could relate the most...

_____________________________________

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Tag list: @carrameli @devilrising

[katesofheaven]

Caldwell Academy chapter 26

previous chapter    chapter one

tw: angst

~

Phil stares at the ceiling, hands fidgeting as his clock flips to 2:12. His neck hurts. His eyes are dry and start to water but he doesn’t blink. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t blinked in two hours. Instead he studies the plaster above him, the little bumps, the long shadows they cast in the blue glow of the alarm clock.

He listens.

He listens for the other side of the door, there’s no one there, he listens to the air coming in from the heating duct, he listens to Chris’s dream as he shifts in his sleeping bag on the floor. He’s dreaming about running. He runs faster and faster until he’s flying, and Phil stops listening at that point because he doesn’t need another secret to keep.

He appreciates Chris sleeping in here sometimes. In the past few weeks, Chris and PJ have mostly moved into the same room, but often switch off sleeping in Phil’s because they think he’s lonely. He’s not lonely.

Dan left.

Phil expected this from the beginning. Everyone leaves eventually.

He was hoping that Dan would stick around longer than he had, but when he thinks about it, he would rather have it be all at once with no explanation, than over time, with wandering thoughts and mumbled denials and extended silences. He knew that Dan had meant to keep his promises when he made them. He just hadn’t kept them; Phil can’t blame him for that. Promises are tricky.

He doesn’t know why Dan left, but it’s better this way. He’s been hearing people’s reasons for their actions, their convoluted justifications, his whole life. Nothing is a mystery. This is his first unanswered question and it’s a new feeling.

His arm extends out, fingers running over the cold fabric of his bed sheet as Chris shifts again in his sleep. There was a time, not too long ago, when Phil’s bed was always warm. A few weeks ago, the whole world was warm, even though it was January. Phil’s head was filled with good thoughts and his heart didn’t bear its usual weight, and Dan felt the same way. He knows he did, because he could hear him.

Dan was happy.

So why did he leave?

Phil knows for a fact that Dan was content. If he had lied about that, Phil would’ve heard the truth. But he left anyway. The only explanation that Phil can think of, in his weeks of analysis, is that he just wasn't enough for him. Dan was happy, but Phil didn’t make him happy enough to stay.

If his father had had a different son, Phil feels certain he would have fought harder to stay alive. What promise could he have possibly seen in his friendless, schizophrenic embarrassment of a son? Phil’s problem is that he makes it very easy for people to leave. He’s never been remarkable by any means. He knows this.

He just wishes he couldn’t hear other people think so, too.

When he was accepted to Caldwell, he was sitting on his bed.

He had gotten home late from school, his mum didn’t ask why, and he was sitting cross-legged on the bed, dabbing at a bloody nose. He was contemplating going down for dinner when he heard a knock at the front door, and annoyed thoughts from his mother— and then a new mind, one he hadn’t heard before. It was excited. It was thinking about him. His eyes widened and he listened harder—it didn’t sound angry. He wasn’t in trouble.

He dabbed harder at his nose, not wanting it to still be dripping if the stranger came in. He didn’t want to answer the question they would ask. He heard footsteps on the stairs and he tilted his head back and began to pray. His door opened.

“There’s someone here who says you got into some school, is there a reason you didn’t tell me about this before now? What the hell is wrong with your nose?” His mother said in one breath. He looked at her over his fist, holding the bundle of tissues to his nose as he thought.

“I fell.”

“I swear, there is no one clumsier than you.” She turned to the person behind her, a beautiful woman with curly hair, dark skin, and a magnificent, gleaming smile. “He’s in there.” She walked past the woman and down the stairs without a glance back.

The woman beamed. “Hi, Phil!”

He looked at her blankly.

“I’m Evangeline, you can call me Evie.” She’s American.

She waited for him to respond but he said nothing, so she closed the door behind her and pointed to the bed questioningly. Phil nodded and she sat down. He leant back again; his nose was still bleeding.

“Phil, I’m here because you’ve been accepted to Caldwell Academy. Now, I hear you thinking—well, not really, that’s your job—What’s Caldwell Academy, Evie? I’m glad you asked! Caldwell is a comprehensive…”

She kept talking but Phil stopped listening. That’s your job?

She knows.

Evie stopped talking and glanced at him. “Do you have any questions?”

His eyes bored into her and she sat in silence. He listened.

“How do you know about me?”

She smiled. “We’ve known since you were four years old.”

That doesn’t answer my question.

“So… did you say… you can teach me how to control it?”

“Yes, exactly. Caldwell is an elite—“

“I want you to get rid of it.”

She paused. “What?”

Chris lets out a particularly loud snort and Phil starts, pulled out of his memory. Chris then turns over on the floor and goes back to sleeping peacefully.

For the first week or so, Phil texted him.

Hey, you okay? I was the one who knocked you out, i’m sorry. I hope you’re feeling better. xx

Hey i’m really sorry. Where are you?

Dan, i’ve been looking everywhere, where are you? x

Where the hell are you?

Hey, it’s okay, nobody’s mad at you. I miss you, class was weird today.

I want you to be okay. please call me

I love you.

Okay.

Phil stopped texting him. He was probably being annoying.

His stomach growls. He glances over at Chris to make sure he’s asleep before tiptoeing to the heavy door and inching it open, slipping through to the fluorescent corridor outside.

He makes the trek to the kitchen and beelines to the cereal cupboard, pouring some in a bowl and bypassing the milk, sitting on one of the cushy barstools. He doesn’t want to, but as he munches he remembers the first conversation he and Dan had, in this room, at this time of night. He wants to stop thinking about it.

He takes another small handful of cereal and leans back in his chair, swiveling around to the door—

Someone is quickly retreating, her back is to him, she has short, blonde hair and a slight frame. A muted pink tee shirt and thin arms. He stands up, alarmed, but she’s out of sight—he runs to the door and looks down the hallway but there’s no one. He listens hard but can’t hear anyone except his dreaming classmates, far away on the other side of the gymnasium.

He hadn’t heard her approach.

He hadn’t heard her at all.

next chapter

[jemimori-blog]

Let’s see where this leads us...

 I haven’t come up with a title yet, but I am pretty sure that it’ll come to me once I get this ball rolling. 

CHAPTER ONE

Sera Woods sat in the cozy cafe, drinking a cup of coffee, as she waited for her two best friends to come. People were walking in and out, sitting at tables, conversing or just minding their own business as they looked at their laptops or phones. Soft jazz played in the background, adding to the calming atmosphere of the place. 

The cafe was called “Marina’s Coffee and Lounge”. It was a local hot spot in Laguna Beach since it turned into a twenty one and over lounge after eight. There was no specific dress code at night, but everyone knew to dress classy. The cafe was rather large with regular tables as well as couches. The bar was in the shape of a circle, towards the back of the cafe. Two of the four walls was made of glass, and the atmosphere was set by the dim lights hanging from the ceiling. 

Sera looked down at her watch and took a sip of her coffee. When she looked back up towards the entrance, her two friends walked in. Sera lifted her hand up and waved. Her friends looked over at her and walked towards her. 

Morgan Bass, Camila Dominguez, and Sera had all been friends since they were seven. They were all actually from a small city called Shelby that sat outside of Houston. 

When they had graduated from high school, all three of them packed their bags and headed to UCLA where they graduated with a Bachelor’s degree. It had been three years since then.

Even though they were all best friends, they all had different personalities and interests. Morgan was a surgical nurse for Kingsley-Hope Hospital, whereas Camila was a Location Scout for TV productions. 

Sera was an executive assistant for Henry Clark, an operations manager for Caldwell Holdings Enterprise. She loved her job and she loved her boss. 

Morgan lifted her hand and waved for the waiter to come over. She rested her head on her hand and looked up towards the waiter with a soft smile and sparkling eyes. With her other hand, she pushed her long blonde hair behind her shoulder and let out a soft sigh. 

“W-What can I get you?” The waiter stammered as he fidgeted with the pen and notepad in his hands. 

“A dirty chai, iced, and,” Morgan looked over at Camila and smiled, “a cafe au lait please.”

The waiter nodded and turned around quickly, bumping into another waiter. 

“Wow, Morgan. Way to go on scaring the boy.” Camila teased.

Morgan just looked at them and flashed her perfectly white teeth quickly changed her expression into a scowl. “I was being…polite. Anyway, did you-”

“You flirt with anyone that breathes!” Sera interjected as Morgan tried to change the subject. “He’s so young!”

“And what, I’m old?” Morgan looked appalled as she gasped and covered her mouth with one hand and with the other, she placed on her chest as if it were to stop her “beating” heart. The three looked at each other and began to laugh. 

“He looks like he might be a college student. Maybe twenty.” Sera looked over at the waiter. She squinted her eyes, acting as if she could see him better that way. “Oh, look at that butt…”

As if on cue, all three faced the object that Sera was identifying. It wasn’t the twenty something nervous waiter. It was actually a man in a suit who had his back turned to them. 

Morgan frowned and exhaled. “False alarm ladies. It’s Adrian.” 

Camila let out a huge laugh. “How is it you know my brother’s backside better than me?”

Adrian turned his head as soon as he recognized his sister’s laugh. Sera noticed the siblings’ making eye contact. She knew he wouldn’t be surprised to see the three of them together. Adrian used to joke that the three of them were practically joined to the hip. He made his way over to them and sat at the last empty seat at the table. 

“Hey Cami.” Adrian said, leaning over and kissing her cheek. 

“I thought you were going to be at D.C for the week.” Morgan said as she leaned in her chair. 

Sera mentally sighed. 

Before Adrian could respond, the waiter came with the drinks. He smiled down at Morgan with a lot more confidence he had shown earlier. He placed the two drinks on the table and cleared his throat. 

“So, maybe if you aren’t busy later on-”

“She is.” Sera and Camila said at the same time.

Morgan raised an eyebrow at them. Sera just shrugged.

“I’m sorry. I’m busy all week. But thanks for the drinks.” Morgan gave him her winning smile. 

“I’ll take an Americano.” Adrian said as he began shaking his head. 

The waiter looked at all of them and sighed. He nodded and turned back to the bar. 

“That was smooth.” Adrian said, sarcastically. 

Sera agreed. “Morgan loves giving men false hope.”

Morgan began to respond, but Camila spoke first. “Morgan is right. Why aren’t you in D.C.”

Sera had known Adrian for as long as she’d known Camila. The only difference was that Adrian wasn’t around much growing up. He was eight years older than them. By the time they reached ten years old, Adrian was off to college. Adrian was a FBI agent, stationed in the Los Angeles field office. Adrian, like Camila, had dark brown hair and light brown eyes. He was about a foot taller than her though. He was a couple inches over six feet tall and had an intimidating figure. And just like Camila, he tanned nicely under the hot Californian sun. 

Ever since Sera and her two friends moved out to California, Adrian was a lot more interesting to spend their time. When they first moved there seven years ago, he had taken them everywhere. And like a good, protective brother, he made sure no idiot had sticky hands with Camila. 

“Seminar ended early. I’m actually going to swing by the office later to pick up my partner. We have to…check something out.” Adrian said as he leaned back in his chair. 

The waiter came and placed the cup in front of Adrian. Sera watched as Adrian tucked his tie into the middle of his button up shirt. 

“Partner? I didn’t know you swing that way.” Morgan scoffed as she took a sip of her drink.

Both Sera and Camila looked at Morgan. 

“What the hell, Morgan.” Camila frowned. 

“Oh, it’s okay. She just has a stick shoved up her ass.” Adrian smirked.

“Wow, real cool you guys.” Camila shook her head.

Sera didn’t say anything. She had her suspicions on why Morgan was acting that way towards Adrian. 

“Well, whatever…So, do you guys want to see something?” Morgan asked, with a mischievous smile.

Sera and Camila both looked at their friend, waiting to see what she was going to show them. 

Morgan pulled out her cellphone, did a little movement, and then put the cellphone on the table. 

Camila grabbed it before Sera. Sera watched as Camila’s eyes scanned over the screen. She gasped loudly.

“What is it? Give me the phone, Cami.” Sera leaned over the table and tried to grab the phone. 

Camila pulled the phone away and leaned away from the table as she finished reading. 

Sera jumped out of her seat and ran over to Camila’s side. 

It was then that she read the top text. 

“Alice DuVant is pregnant?!” Sera gasped.

“Who cares.” Adrian said, enjoying his cup of coffee.

“Who cares? Alice DuVant is basically the princess of Shelby! Don’t you remember that her father is none other than James DuVant?! He owns practically all of Shelby!” Camila spoke so loudly that others began looking towards them. 

“She’s not even married!” Sera added in loud whisper. 

“Plenty of people get pregnant before marriage.” Adrian said, looking as if the news didn’t faze him. 

“Not in Shelby!” Sera, Camila, and Morgan said at the same time. 

“Is she getting married?” Sera asked Morgan.

“Yup. And guess who is the lucky guy?” Morgan asked, crossing her arms and looking smug. 

Sera and Camila leaned across the table, waiting for Morgan to speak.

“Gael Dominguez.” Morgan finally said. 

Adrian almost choked on his coffee.

“What?!” Camila yelled. 

This time, everyone in the cafe looked towards them. Some even gave them a nasty “be quiet” face.

“Are you talking about my sweet, sweet cousin?” Camila asked. “How did they even meet? He lives in San Antonio! And why haven’t we heard of anything? Who is your source?”

“Well, I have a very reliable source. Lily is the one texting me. Apparently she is so upset since she had a thing for Gael. Everyone knows Gael. He goes to visit your parents almost every month. According to Lily, no one else knows she’s pregnant. He’s already proposed as well.” Morgan said. 

“I can’t believe Alice’s own sister ratted her out.” Sera shook her head. She let out a dry laugh. “Morgan, I think you should change your career to gossip journalism.”

Before Morgan could respond, Adrian’s phone rang. 

“Hey man, how are you?” Adrian spoke into the phone. There was a long pause. “No kidding! Wow, congratulations.”

Camila’s eyes widened. She worded “Gael” to Adrian. He nodded. 

Adrian shook his head a and made agreeing comments. “Next month? No I should be free…wait, really? Yeah, definitely.”

There was another long pause. 

Sera and her two friends leaned towards Adrian, waiting in anticipation. 

“I’d love to be your best man. Sure…and hey, thanks for calling. I’ll see you there.”

With that, he hung up. 

Camila burst out into laughter. Sera and Morgan couldn’t help but join in the laughter. 

“Hey, I’d love to stay and chat but I’ve got work to do.” Adrian said. He leaned over and kissed Camila on the cheek. 

“See you later, Adrian.” Sera said. 

“See ya.” Morgan waved as she looked down at her phone. 

They waited for Adrian to leave before they spoke again. 

“Looks like you’ll be related to royalty.” Morgan smirked. 

“Yeah?” Camila joked.

“Watch, we’re not even going to be invited. 

A week later, all three of them received an invitation to the Wedding of Gael Dominguez and Alice Lynn DuVant.

THANKS FOR READING!!!!